#that makes our ride neat and clean for our customers.

[easygocab]

Car Rental in Prayagraj

[gwen-tolios]

Etched in Brass

The shop bells chimed and Jackson looked up from the counter where he’d been polishing machine parts. The woman wore simple pieces that were neat and clean, but a few seasons old. He frowned as he watched her look at the instruments in the window and display cases on the walls. If she could afford any of them, Jackson would eat a boot.

“Hello, sir.”

Jackson placed down the gear and straightened. He rarely got called sir, he was just a shop assistant as his uncle loved to remind him, but he fully planned on taking control of the perceived status of being an experienced occultist.

“Morning, ma’am. How can I assist you?”

“I heard you sell devices that can protect a person or place?”

“Indeed we do.”

She clasped her hands together. Her gloves lacked lace. Still, if Uncle Jonathan knew he didn’t give a customer proper respect, he’d be yelled at.

“What type of protection do you need?”

“I’m cursed and would like it removed.”

Jackson raised an eyebrow. “Can I have more detail?”

“I’m a private vocal instructor, and teach several young ladies in town. However, many of them are getting sick and I believe me, or rather my curse, is the reason why.”

“Ma’am, there are many reasons why someone may get sick-"

“Every single one of my pupils? Ten young ladies across the city?  Whose ailment tends to rapidly decrease in my company?”

Jackson sighed. This was the problem of your family having an occult shop – everyone believed the supernatural was the reason for their troubles. But his uncle had built a reputation – every problem heard. For his uncle to truly teach Jackson how to be an occultist, not just run the shop, he had to uphold the same standards.

Listen. Offer a solution.

Maybe, make a sale. With no guarantee it would work. They couldn’t know the rules every spirit operated by after all!

“I’ll call for tea,” Jackson said, gesturing to a small table in the corner. It’d allow him to watch for other patrons while listening to the tutor's troubles but provided a more proper location to have a conversation than a counter filled with grease, dirty rags, and cuts of metal.

#####

The music tutor was Ms. Emily Farthington, and the more she spoke the more Jackson realized she might truly be cursed. Every young lady she taught developed the same symptoms, and the illness hadn’t spread to the household. More damning, further exposure to Ms. Farthington seemed to increase it's severity.

First, it was a sore throat, which made an appearance halfway through the lesson. The girl would be recovered by the next lesson, only for the singer’s hoarseness to reappear during vocal warmups. The ailment had started to linger for the days between lessons, leading to difficulty breathing, coughs. One student had collapsed as Ms. Farthington knocked on the door to announce her presence.

“One family fired me,” Ms. Farthington said, staring at her empty tea mug. “They feared something about me was making their daughter sick. My perfume, perhaps. Another family informed me that the girl went from struggling to breathe to riding within a week. They then told me that by releasing me from their services, they hoped their daughter could make similar progress."

She stared up at Jackson, tears in her lashes. "I lost my seventh client this morning. If I’m to retain my lodgings, I can’t lose my other three.”

“You feel no illness yourself?” Jackson asked. He racked his mind for which of his uncle's devices might help, but most were preventative. They established wards before a possession or haunting happened.

“None.”

“What about in the past?”

“Oh, I’ve had my share of bad days.”

“Anything like what your students have experienced?”

“I,” she reached for her neck.

“Ms. Farthington?”

“When I was younger, my sister and I came down with a similar illness. The difficulty speaking, then the coughs, having a hard time getting air. The doctor said something had gotten into our lungs. We were sick for over a month, and she succumbed to it.” As she spoke, she rubbed her hand over a spot on her chest.

Jackson watched the movement. It was too close to her neck to be in remembered pain. A charm, thin enough to not cause a bulge? “What are you worrying with?”

Ms. Farthington startled, blushing as she realized what she was doing. “Oh. My sister was a magpie. She would discover small, shiny objects on the street or shop floors and bring them home. When we were sick, she used a brass disk as a worry talisman. It was one of the few treasures our mother found and gave her. I paid a jeweler to etch her likeness and turn the disk into a necklace years ago.”

“Can I see it?”

“I’m afraid there’s rather a few layers between my fingers and the clasp.” She said stiffly.

He coughed into his hands and scrambled to recover. “Right. Well, I believe that disk may have something to do with your curse. I’d like to run an experiment. Can you bring it back later today?”

She rubbed at the same spot, before nodding. “If you think it’ll help. I can’t afford to lose more students.”

“I do.”

“I’ll come by shortly before you close, if amendable. I’d rather this curse lifted sooner than later.”

#####

Jackson twirled the disk in the dim candlelight. Ms. Farthington had given it to him only after he promised not to damage it. He’d also promised to only hold it a single night, the tutor was very attached to the memento of her sister, which meant there was no chance to ask his uncle’s advice.

He rolled the chain in his fingers, watching the disk move. The etching on one side was well done, immortalizing a girl of ten. Her resemblance to Ms. Farthington was similar enough Jackson wondered if they were twins. There were occult connections between twins. Not always, but often. Was the spirit pushing back the veil and gripping the throats of young singers, cursing her sister’s students?

What would she have against the other girls?

He spun the disk in the other direction and watched the candlelight flash off the one-inch circle. It’d been lovingly taken care of, the brass polished to a high sheen.

Uncle Jonathan used bronze frequently; one could tell a lot about spirits based on how the metal took on a polished look.

Brass had few uses, mainly defensive. There were several devices in the shop, full of pendulums and searching rods, that emitted a wave designed to keep spirits away. Brass knuckles were able to knock a possessing spirit out of a man. And in the cellar, the dark chamber where his uncle kept those ghosts and ghouls he had trapped, were pieces of polished brass in locked wooden boxes.

Jackson watched the disk twist. Was the piece of brass a defensive tool or a trap for Ms. Farthington's sister? Now that it wasn't around Ms. Farthington's neck, his test was live. Pity it put Ms. Farthington at risk.

Jackson didn’t have his uncle’s ability with the supernatural, but he was very good at business.

######

When Ms. Farthington failed to show the next morning to claim her memento, Jackson closed up the shop to pay her a visit. She lent a room at a popular boarding house, so it was no matter to hail a carriage and tell the driver where to go.

Jackson had expected two results of his test – either Ms. Farthington would get sick or not. As it turned out, she’d gotten sick quickly. The mistress running the house hesitated to let Jackson see her, but when he mentioned he believed Ms. Farthington cursed and had the means to help, the mistress instructed a maid to take him to the appropriate room.

Watching Ms. Farthington struggle with the same illness her students had caught, he came to two conclusions. One, the disk had not been serving as a trap for the dead sister rather but as protection for Ms. Farthington. Two, the spirit causing problems was going after Ms. Farthington specifically.

Jackson wasn’t a full-fledged occultist. His uncle grudgingly taught him, and he’d never tried understanding a spirit by himself. However, he had witnessed the process multiple times, and the maid peering from the corner had no way of knowing it was his first spiritual diagnosis. With that in mind, he took a deep breath and stepped toward the bed, ignoring the faint smell of sweat.

Jackson pulled out and unwrapped three small bronze instruments, arranging them around Ms. Farthington’s pillow. His uncle had a knack for reading them in seconds, half science, half intuition. Jackson took longer but got answers he was confident in.

The spirit was family. It wanted revenge. The desire had been present for a while, possibly linked to the deceased sister. There was no other reason the memento was strong enough to reflect the curse for so long.

Jackson turned to the maid. “Did someone in Ms. Farthington’s family pass recently?”

She nodded. “Her mother, six months ago.”

“Must not have had a good relationship,” Jackson muttered.

He padded his pockets, wincing. There was a reason his uncle had a bag of supplies ready to go instead of grabbing items before leaving the shop. Jackson hadn’t brought the tools needed to talk to a spirit or any of the blessed items required for banishment.

All he found was a lighter, some tobacco, and the brass disk. He’d have to trap Ms. Farthington’s mother within the visage of her daughter.

Jackson looked around for an oil tray, but the boarding house had traded lamps for electric lights. Instead, he used a tea saucer and the back of a hand mirror as ashtrays, placing them on separate sides of the room. Some herbs produced a smoke that clung to spirits, allowing them to be seen. Tobacco wasn't ideal, but it would suffice. He lit the leaves, lamenting the loss of a good smoke.

Jackson had only seen his uncle trap a spirit a few times. Usually, Jonathan sent a spirit to the world beyond or talked it into leaving – both far easier. He asked the maid to leave, for her protection of course, and felt relieved when she nodded.

If he failed, no one would know and he could blame Ms. Farthington’s death on being there too late. He should have been called early that morning.

Cursing his inability to plan, Jackson hastily went through Ms. Farthington’s vanity. He found a brass hat pin, which would do. Now to herd the spirit into the disk.

Jackson watched the smoke swirl, looking for a spot where it stuck and didn’t flow with the air currents. An ash cluster appeared hovering over Ms. Farthington’s head. Slowly he stepped toward it, brass disk on his outstretched palm. As soon as the disk was under the ash-dusted form, Jackson brought the hat pin down from above as if he were performing an overhand clap.

“Drat,” he said, meeting resistance. He’d managed to condense the spirit, trapping it between the hat pin and disk. Jackson struggled to push the pin down, pressing against the air three inches above his palm.

On a whim, Jackson flipped the charm so the portrait of Ms. Farthington’s sister faced up. The spirit screeched. Jackson strongarmed the spirit into the brass, slamming the hat pin's shaft onto the disk.

At the supernaturally loud ding, Ms. Farthington opened her eyes and gasped.

Jackson quickly arranged his hair and collar before attempting to spread out the smoke.

“You were right, Ms. Farthington.” Jackson picked up the instruments near her head one by one. “You were cursed by your mother. I imagine she was upset your childhood illness took you instead of your sister, and saw a chance to remediate that. You’ll live, and your students are healed. I’ll be taking your etching of your sister though, I had to trap your mother in it.”

Ms. Farthington blinked at him. Jackson tugged on his lapels. “The shop will send you a bill for services.”

He rushed out to the sound of the maid exclaiming in awe at Ms. Farthington’s quick recovery.

Jackson rubbed the brass disk in his pocket. He’d have to show his uncle he was an occultist in his own right, not just an apprentice to mind the shop and polish the inventory.

------------------------

This story is my part of my Roll for Plot series, where I write a story each month based on dice roles. While I'll always share them on Tumblr, you can read then a week early if you subscribe to my Ko-Fi.

[karahalloway]

Ok, first of all....

For this most auspicious occasion, I have prepared some incorrect quotes. A few of them we've seen before but they seemed to fit. Most of them I haven't seen before and a few of them seem custom made for your Harper and Drake!

Enjoy!

Harper: Go fuck yourself. Drake, smugly: Sure, but only if you watch

Drake: I’m in love with you. Harper: We called off the prank war last night at midnight, dork. Drake: I know. Harper: Ah. Okay. Um. Cool. Neat. Very cool. Cool. Cool. Coolcoolcool-

Harper: Look, last night was a mistake. Drake: A sexy mistake. Harper: No, just a regular mistake.

Drake: Harper, I… Drake: I love you! Harper: Not my problem.

Harper: Are you trying to seduce me? Drake: Why, are you seducible?

Drake: As top in this relationship, I think we should- Harper: I can't believe you're pulling rank on me.

Harper: Let’s watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl. Drake: Okay. Harper: And make out during the scary parts. Drake: Th- Drake: The scary parts. Drake: Of Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

Harper: Wait, what's going on? Are we all talking about how hot Drake is? Because Drake is a straight up sexual fox riding a red-hot nuclear bombshell right toward the yowza plaza in the heart of Babe City, Assachusetts, U S A. The last A just stands for more ass.

Drake: Valentine’s day is just a consumerist holiday that holds no real value other than drive people insane buying heart shaped chocolates for their significant others and pos- Harper: I wrote you a poem. Drake, already crying: You did?

Drake: Harper is playing hard to get. Drake: Little do they know, I'm a master at playing hard to get rid of.

Drake: Hey, random question, what are your favorite flowers? Harper: Peonies, why? Drake: Harper: Were you going to get me flowers? Drake: Harper: Drake: ᶦᵗ’ˢ ᵃ ᵖᵒˢˢᶦᵇᶦˡᶦᵗʸ

Drake: I was going to suggest we do Marilyn Monroe and JFK roleplay, but I’d get way too into it. Harper: What- how? Drake: You’d be like “come to bed … Mr. President” and I’d be like, “I need to increase the amount of American military advisors in South Vietnam by a factor of 18.”

Harper: Drake, you do remember when we agreed we were better off as friends, right? Drake, naked in Harper's bed: No, I absolutely do not. Harper, already taking off their clothes: Fuck... Me neither.

Harper: I have feelings for you. Drake: Why? What's wrong with you? Are you sure you're okay?

Harper: What are you in the mood for? Drake: World domination. Harper: That's a bit ambitious. Drake: You are my world. Harper: Aww... Drake: Harper: Drake: Harper: OH.

Drake: We have a problem. Harper: No, YOU have a problem. I have an idiot who keeps making them.

Harper: This date is boring! Drake: This isn't a date. I said I was going to the store. Harper: Then why did you invite me? Drake: I didnt, I specifically said "don't come with me," then you said, "fuck you Drake I'll do whatever I want!

Drake: My crush isn’t picking up on my hints. Harper: What hints have you given them? Drake: Well, I think about them a lot. Drake: And sometimes I even think about talking to them.

Harper: I want to wake up with you every day for the rest of our lives. Drake: I wake up at 4:30 AM every day to train. Harper: I want to see you at some point every day for the rest of our lives.

*Drake comes home absolutely drunk, undresses, and stands in Harper’s bedroom.* Harper: Babe, are you.. coming to bed? Drake: No thank you, I’m sure you’re lovely but I have a girlfriend. Drake: *Lies on the ground and falls asleep* Harper: ...

Drake: Hey, I’m getting in the shower. Wanna help me out? Harper: ...Have you never taken a shower before?

Drake: Talk dirty to me, baby~ Harper: The dishes. Drake: Wh- Harper: They’ve been there for 4 days and it’s your turn to wash them. You still haven’t cleaned them and I have asked you to do so several times.

Harper: Is something burning? Drake, leaning seductively on the counter: Just my desire for you. Harper: Drake, the toaster is literally on fire.

Drake: Stop doing that. Harper: Stop doing what? Drake: Saying things that make me wanna kiss the hell out of you.

Harper: Are we fighting or flirting? Drake: I'm pinning you against a wall with my hand around your neck- Harper: Your point?

Drake: I am so cool. I am an absolute Chad. I am the epitome of coolness and awesomeness— Harper: Hi. Drake: *melts down in a flustered heap of softness*

Harper: Are you ready to commit? Drake: Like, a crime or a relationship?

Second of all, I want to say thank you for being my friend.....

You're an amazing writer, a great friend, and an all-around wonderful human!!!

Hope your day is as wonderful as you!!!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!

Ok, first of all....

Aww thank you for the birthday gifs! They definitely made my morning! 🥰 Love me some Tom Hiddleston... and cake, of course!

For this most auspicious occasion, I have prepared some incorrect quotes. A few of them we've seen before but they seemed to fit. Most of them I haven't seen before and a few of them seem custom made for your Harper and Drake!

Ahhhh!! I love it so much! I honestly forgot about this until you sent me this ask, and I seriously read the whole thing like 6 times and wet my pants each time! They are all amazing, but there are a few that I specifically want to highlight for their sheer brilliance!

Harper: Go fuck yourself. Drake, smugly: Sure, but only if you watch

Might need to use this in a fic bc this is 100% something I can see Drake saying! 🤣

Harper: Are you trying to seduce me? Drake: Why, are you seducible?

Drake: As top in this relationship, I think we should- Harper: I can't believe you're pulling rank on me.

Dead!!! 🤣

Harper: Wait, what's going on? Are we all talking about how hot Drake is? Because Drake is a straight up sexual fox riding a red-hot nuclear bombshell right toward the yowza plaza in the heart of Babe City, Assachusetts, U S A. The last A just stands for more ass.

I mean... yes! 🤣🤣🤣 I rofl'd so hard at this bc not only is it (a) accurate, but also bc (b) the entire sub-theme of ass that permeates this gem is so perfect bc it harks back to Drake's Ass Appreciation!

Drake: Valentine’s day is just a consumerist holiday that holds no real value other than drive people insane buying heart shaped chocolates for their significant others and pos- Harper: I wrote you a poem. Drake, already crying: You did?

Bahahaha! I actually HC this hard, and even had Drake use pretty much this exact answer in one of the OTP Asks I got sent!

Drake: Harper is playing hard to get. Drake: Little do they know, I'm a master at playing hard to get rid of.

I... I can't... 🤣🤣🤣

Harper: Drake, you do remember when we agreed we were better off as friends, right?

Drake, naked in Harper's bed: No, I absolutely do not.

Harper, already taking off their clothes: Fuck... Me neither.

Yes!! 😍🥵🫠

Drake: My crush isn’t picking up on my hints. Harper: What hints have you given them? Drake: Well, I think about them a lot. Drake: And sometimes I even think about talking to them.

Accurate 🤣🤣🤣

*Drake comes home absolutely drunk, undresses, and stands in Harper’s bedroom.* Harper: Babe, are you.. coming to bed? Drake: No thank you, I’m sure you’re lovely but I have a girlfriend. Drake: *Lies on the ground and falls asleep* Harper: ...

🥰

Drake: Stop doing that. Harper: Stop doing what? Drake: Saying things that make me wanna kiss the hell out of you.

Omg it's like they read my stuff 🤣🥰

Harper: Are we fighting or flirting? Drake: I'm pinning you against a wall with my hand around your neck- Harper: Your point? Drake: I am so cool. I am an absolute Chad. I am the epitome of coolness and awesomeness— Harper: Hi. Drake: *melts down in a flustered heap of softness*

And finally, the piece de la resitance...

Drake: I was going to suggest we do Marilyn Monroe and JFK roleplay, but I’d get way too into it. Harper: What- how? Drake: You’d be like “come to bed … Mr. President” and I’d be like, “I need to increase the amount of American military advisors in South Vietnam by a factor of 18.”

I swear to God, I am still laughing at this! 🤣🤣🤣 It's so accurate bc in my head Drake would definitely overcommit to any kind of role play, and I just especially love this specific set-up because of even though Drake loves Harper, he is also a bit of a workaholic, and would 100% feel like he would need to take care of the nation before he can take care of her 😆

Once again, thank you so much for the laughs and the birthday wishes!

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Q: What types of wraps are available in Orlando?

A: In Orlando, we offer a wide range of vehicle wraps to meet various needs and preferences. These include full-color change wraps, which allow you to completely transform the color of your vehicle; custom graphic wraps, perfect for adding unique designs or business branding; and protective wraps that provide an additional layer of protection against scratches, chips, and UV damage while maintaining the vehicle’s original appearance. Our team of experts is available to help you choose the best option for your specific requirements.

Q: Will the wrap damage my vehicle’s paint?

A: No, a professionally installed commercial vehicle wrap will not damage the vehicle’s paint. In fact, it can protect the paint from minor scratches, UV damage, and other environmental factors. The wrap acts as a protective layer, preserving the original paint underneath. When it’s time to remove the wrap, it can be done cleanly without leaving residue or causing harm to the paint, provided the vehicle was in good condition prior to wrapping and the wrap is removed by a professional.

[stockinterior]

"Upholstery Excellence: Elevating Your Driving Experience"

With the quick changes in our society's social and economic structure, textiles are no longer only used for clothes; clothing is merely one use for textiles. Numerous attempts are undertaken to safeguard human life. There are some obscure applications for textiles in opaque technical domains. Among them is automotive textiles. An average family automobile is thought to hold 12 to 14 kg of textiles. Western Europe is the largest automobile-producing region, and it uses fifty thousand tonnes of textiles annually for the automotive sector. Japan and the United States are the third and second-largest markets for automobile textiles. Interior trim, such as carpets, door liners, roofs, and seat cover, uses two-thirds of all textiles. The remainder is distributed among the other automobiles. The world's biggest nonwoven manufacturer estimates that 42% of its sales are tied to the automotive sector.

The process of covering and outfitting a car's seats with a material chosen for comfort, toughness, and style is known as auto seat upholstery. When it comes to auto seat upholstery, there are a few things to consider:

Materials: There is a broad range of options for upholstery materials, such as cloth, leather, vinyl, and synthetic materials. Your car seat's lifetime, appearance, and feel will all be influenced by the material you select.

Design: The colouring, pattern, and texture of the upholstery can have a big impact on how your car's interior looks overall.

Comfort: The upholstery's padding and cushioning might have an impact on how comfortable the seats are. Investing in high-grade foam or other cushioning materials can improve comfort on lengthy rides.

The procedure of auto seat upholstery entails selecting a material and covering the seats in a car. Depending on whether you're hiring a pro to do it for you or doing it yourself, this method may change.

Evaluation and Planning: Before starting any upholstery repair, a specialist will evaluate the state of the current seats. They will search for any harm or problems that require attention.

Material Choice: You will decide on the type of upholstery material—fabric, leather, vinyl, or synthetic materials—as well as the colour and style that best fit your tastes.

Taking Out the Old Upholstery: If there is already upholstery on the seats, it will be taken off. This entails disassembling the seats and cautiously removing the outdated material.

Fixing and Cushioning: To guarantee comfort, any worn-out or torn padding or cushioning in the seats may be replaced or repaired. In this step, fresh foam or cushioning material may be added.

Slicing and Sewing: The selected upholstery fabric is trimmed to properly suit the seats. Expert seamstresses will sew the fabric together to make custom seat covers.

Installation: The seats now have their new upholstery covers on. To achieve a smooth and snug fit, this entails stretching and fastening the material firmly over the seat frames.

Final Touches: To achieve a neat and polished appearance, small details like seams and edges are meticulously completed. Add any necessary fasteners, such as snaps or zippers.

Reassembly: The seats are put back together, and any hardware or other parts that were taken out are replaced.

Inspection and Quality Control: To make sure the upholstery work satisfies requirements for quality and is error-free, a comprehensive inspection is carried out.

Organizing: The interior of the car is cleaned of any leftover pieces or trash from the upholstery procedure.

Last-Minute Presentation: The owner of the car receives the seats, and the interior is restored to its pre-loss state.

To obtain a high-quality outcome, the vehicle seat upholstery process might be intricate and demanding on ability and precision. To guarantee the greatest results, it is frequently advised to have this work completed by a qualified upholstery shop or technician with experience in vehicle upholstery. Although they could take a lot of time and expertise, do-it-yourself upholstery tasks are also feasible.

Stock Interiors is proud to offer the highest quality Auto Seat Upholstery in the market today. Our seat upholstery sets are a high-quality product following the factory pleat design, sewing pattern, and factory attachment points. Includes upholstery, instructions, hog rings, and hog ring pliers. These items require the physical seat to be removed from the vehicle, old upholstery removed, and new upholstery installed. Our seat upholstery is replacement seat upholstery and does not slip on seat cover. We offer many original materials and colors, as well as custom options and leather upgrades. If you cannot find your replacement seat upholstery below, please let us know what you are looking for.

Visit: https://www.stockinteriors.com/make/seatupholstery

[chikucabllp]

Hire local & outstation cabs in Dehradun

We all know Dehradun has developed itself a lot. It is the biggest city in Uttrakhand. It is also famous for a few well-known educational institutions. This city offers beautiful scenic views, good hotels for stay, and some yummiest famous food. Dehradun has a lot to offer for visitors who visit here for weekends or for long vacations. Don’t forget to book the best cab service in Dehradun for both small and extended vacations. This city excels in providing relaxation and calmness to mind and body. Have fun in the mesmerizing city of Dehradun with Chiku Cab.

Why Chiku Cab?

·         Years of experience, make it the best cab booking in Dehradun. With our correct guidance tourists are able to explore the most important corner of the city.

·         Our neat and clean cabs invite many travelers to travel with us. Sanitization takes place before every ride.

·         Trained and licensed drivers with efficient driving skills provide relaxed and tension-free drives to travelers.

·         With 24*7 availability, booking with us becomes easy. One can contact us at any point in time to get answers to all their queries.

·         With GPS inbuilt into all our vehicles, our travelers are completely safe. In fact our drivers too make sure the safety of our customers.

Accept end-moment bookings

No worries, if you have any last-moment plans for weekends or vacations. We do welcome end-moment bookings for last-minute plans or any emergency plans. We can be booked on the same day, even an hour before the trip. It's completely ok with us, we understand that sometimes the situation is not according to ourselves and we have to plan something urgently. We provide the same quality of service for end-moment booking too. Your trip with us will always be full of fun, enjoyment, and safe. Make your trip more exciting with Chiku Cab.

Major tourist attractions

Dehradun is famous for its beautiful mountains and valleys. Dehradun is a small and beautiful city situated in the lap of the Himalayas. If we talk about the tourist places here, then here you will get to see the places full of natural beauty.  Here there are high mountains and there are rivers coming out of the mountains. There are also high waterfalls and dense forests here. The weather here is quite cold and relaxing as compared to the hot and humid weather in other cities. Most tourists visit Dehradun during summer. Here come the top places in Dehradun that you can visit with our taxi service in Dehradun:

1.       Sahastradhara

2.       Robber’s Cave

3.       Dehradun Zoo

4.       Buddha Temple

5.       FRI College

6.       Lachiwala Nature Park

7.       Shikhar Fall

8.       TapkeshwarTemple

[saudisuvrentals]

Trust Our Limousine Service for a Safe and Comfortable Travel Experience

You want to experience comfort and safety throughout your journey. Then we can make it happen with our jeddah limousine service. We have a wide collection of luxury fleets, including SUVs, BMWs, sedans, Sprinters, Coaches, and limousines. All our fleets are neat and clean, and embedded with advanced features. The comfort and safety you will experience in our fleet you will hardly enjoy with others. Therefore, choosing us in Saudi Arabia for seamless travel is your right choice. Our travel service will never disappoint you. 

 We have a fleet for corporate, Airport, Sporting Events, and Tour Sightseeing. We are here to fulfill all kinds of travel requirements of our customers. Along with a luxury fleet, we provide Corporate Chauffeur Services. Not only fleet, but we also offer professionally trained chauffeurs who are well–informed about all the local routes. In case you face any legalities and peculiarities throughout the journey. Then again, our chauffeurs are great at tackling with such situations. Top of all, riding with us means keeping you safe from all the hustle.

First Impression Matters 

Attending a corporate meeting in a luxury limo can boost your first impression. It will be good for timely arrival and work wonders for your impression. Apart from this, we provide Corporate Chauffeur Services. We have a spacious fleet where you can do your any business-related work or even explore the beauty while riding with us. Our fleet has a screen for entertainment. The fleet has all the amenities that make the journey amazing, from water bottles and magazines to a 24*7 wifi facility. Choosing our travel company for the ride in Saudi Arabia is the best choice. 

Easy and Quick Airport Travel Solutions 

 You want a luxury ride from dammam airport to khobar. Then you pick the right transportation company. We have established our airport transfer service near all the Saudi Arabia’s airports. We aim to make every journey of our clients in Saudi Arabia easier and more comfortable. So whether you are looking for luxury limo service for King Khalid international airport or from airport to hotel, choosing our ride will make your journey safe and luxurious. 

One call and our team will provide complete information about our travel services. We have a wide collection of the exclusive fleet. Our premium travel services have made us the best among all our competitors. 

 You wish for a luxurious travel experience in Saudi Arabia. Then choose us. We provide premium travel solutions to all our clients. You can book our jeddah limousine service to fulfill all your travel requirements, from event to corporate travel. We are available for all. Our main objective is to make your journey safe, hassle-free, and amazing in Saudi Arabia. 

[milkybonya]

Butterfly

order 015, anon: large banana milk tea with lychee jelly and pudding for Asahi

Warnings: some angst (injuries, crying mentions) and food mentions

Summary: a coffee shop! enemies to lovers! soulmate!au all in one where Asahi, an expert barista and newbie!y/n's supervisor is easily angered by small mistakes, but ends up falling for his new employee as they begin to hone their craft, and even more so when he discovers the butterfly birthmark at the nape of their neck which matches his own.

*disclaimer! i'm not a barista but am writing using the minimal experience i have acquired after working in a place that makes coffee but isn't as artsy as a coffee shop,, so please forgive any inaccuracies!

[a/n] Alex if u see this LOOK IT'S A COFFEE SHOP AU HHH

After being lucky enough to get hired on the spot at your city's most famous coffee shop, you walk in on your first day, excited to make coffee and serve customers. The day does not greet you well, though, as your already nervous state is worsened when your supervisor and coworker, a dashing young man with black hair parted around his face, gives you a hard time.

Asahi is extremely cold and quiet, only yelling when he speaks to tell the employees to do their job right. He yells at you twice: once for forgetting to clean the steamed milk frother, and another time for when you serve the customers coffee that isn't fresh.

It leaves you feeling jittery to a point where you continue to make mistakes.

"[y/n], finish that order and meet me in the back," Asahi tells you, his voice completely emotionless.

Once you join him in the back, you find him sweeping, his hair falling in his eyes and prickling his nose. As soon as he notices you're there, he puts the broom away, pushing the hair out of his eyes before he turns to face you.

"[y/n], I realize that it's your first day, but you're doing an absolutely terrible job," he says.

"Our work here is more fast paced than you think, and if you can't handle it and keep getting nervous and slipping up, then I don't think we can keep you here."

Your bottom lip begins to tremble hearing the harsh criticism on what is only your first day, but luckily, a coworker who overheard everything steps in.

"Hey, Asahi! Big boss man, calm down. It's only their first day... stop being so hard on them," your coworker says, placing an arm around you.

When you look to see who it was, you discover that it's Junkyu, your bright and happy coworker who always does his job with a smile. Even just seeing him makes you smile, and he smiles back at you, patting your head.

"[y/n] is doing just great, so you can shut up!" Junkyu huffs, dragging you out and back onto the floor.

You may wonder why Junkyu was being so rude to his boss, but Asahi and Junkyu are actually close friends, so it's okay for them to get mad at each other like this.

"Don't listen to Asahi. He's like an old man sometimes," Junkyu says.

"And it's okay to get nervous! I was spilling so many things everywhere on my first day. Just take your time..." Junkyu explains, showing you how to do all the things that you messed up on before.

Asahi watches from the other side of the shop, feeling angry at the sight of Junkyu being so close to you, for some reason. He also thinks... he sees something on the back of your neck that matches his own birthmark, but he shrugs it off, telling himself he's just seeing things.

-

With the worst luck, you continue making mistakes every time Asahi shows up, and he scolds you for it in front of your coworkers and the customers each time. Sometimes, you have to rush to the break room to catch your breath and even cry it out, stare yourself down in the mirror and tell yourself that you're doing a great job.

"You're doing great, [y/n]! Don't worry about Asahi... you're doing great," you say.

Asahi, who is in the back of the shop in search of coffee grinds, overhears your pep talk and smiles to himself, immediately frowning as soon as you step out of the break room and face him, though.

"What are you doing? Get back out there!" he says.

You leave quickly and don't notice Asahi smiling at the way you waddle towards the front.

-

Despite being nervous at the beginning, your barista skills improve rapidly. You're able to master latte art after only a week and a half, creating pretty designs that are different for each customer. Your designs gain popularity and the shop grows busier with people waiting for you to hand them a pretty latte that you've designed.

Asahi still doesn't seem to want to give you praise of any sort, though, as he constantly points out your mistakes.

"It looks good, but does it taste good? You clearly went too heavy on the milk."

Even his your coworkers grow tired of Asahi, and everyone starts calling him angry bird Asahi behind his back with the way his eyebrows are pointed in a frown each time he comes to scold you.

For you, though, it doesn't matter anymore. You've found something you love and are improving in it rapidly, so Asahi's bitter attitude can't harm you anymore.

-

One short-staffed day, you're alone, closing the shop alongside Asahi. The two of you clean up in silence, save for Asahi's hushed hums as he sweeps.

Not noticing a paper bag on the ground, you trip on it and fall on your knees and hands.

Your yelp leaves Asahi rushing over, even though you thought he would just ignore your pain.

"[y/n], what happened?! Are you okay?" he asks, leaning down.

He pauses midway, staring at the back of your exposed neck. His fingers reach out in disbelief to touch what he sees, but he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable and stops himself.

A butterfly birthmark, just like the one on the back of his own neck. A shared butterfly birthmark in the same location: a sign of soulmates.

"I'm okay, I'm okay. I just tripped.

"Y-you're not bleeding or anything, right?" Asahi asks, suddenly breathless.

"Nope, all good!" you say, standing up and feeling confused at Asahi's flustered state.

"Are you okay? Why do you seem so panicked?" you ask.

"I'm... I was just worried that's all," he quickly says, returning to where he was sweeping.

He really found his soulmate despite not believing in the butterfly soulmate thing anyway....

-

Asahi is really weird around you for the next week, not scolding you anymore but just being super quiet and seemingly cautious around you. Everyone is confused as to what happened to angry bird Asahi, and feeling a little worried yourself, you approach him in his office on your break one day.

"Is everything okay, Asahi?"

"Hm? Yeah... why wouldn't it be?"

"I don't know... you just seem more quiet than usual."

Asahi stares at the ground, wondering if he should tell you about your shared birthmarks.

Ah heck, let's just go for it, he thinks to himself.

He swivels around in his hair, turning his back to you and holding up his hair at the back of his head.

"Does this look familiar to you?" he asks, pointing to the birthmark at the nape of his neck.

You gasp, feeling the back of your own neck.

The birthmark looks exactly the same...

"Wha-?"

"I don't know what to do. Because frankly, I don't believe in any of this soulmate crap, but we're really soulmates..." Asahi says.

Your eyes, on the other hand, are sparkling. You've believed in soulmates since the beginning and always wondered who would have the same birthmark as you. It's weird to think that angry bird Asahi is your soulmate, but you don't want to lose this chance.

"What else do we do but go on a date!" you say, hugging his arm out of excitement.

Asahi glares at you and you pull away, clearing your throat.

"Friday after work! Wait for me and we'll go somewhere," you say, excitedly leaving Asahi's office.

He places a hand on his heart, feeling it beat a little faster than usual.

-

Friday, you notice Asahi's hair is looking a little different - all straightened, neat and tidy. Asahi also doesn't fail to notice that you're looking a little fancier than your usual self. Even Junkyu bothers you about it, asking why you look really prim and proper today.

When Asahi's shift ends, he has an hour to kill until yours does, so he spends that time in his office at the back, watching you make pretty drinks with you latte art through the security cameras. He has a full view of your butterfly birthmark and suddenly wonders what it would be like if he was able to kiss it.

Finally as soon as your shift ends, you rush out, forgetting to say goodbye to everyone unlike you usually do, but also forgetting to punch out. Asahi reminds you to do that as soon as you step into his office. The way he smiles when you swing open the door, his teeth peeking out while his eyes hide away, makes you feel like he's happy to see you... though he's just giggling at your mistake.

Once you're punched out and ready to leave, you step out of there and take the bus to an art gallery that you've always wanted to explore. You notice Asahi staring down into your lap as you ride the bus, shyly looking at your hands, fidgeting his own and then looking away. You become the brave one for the both of you and take his hand in yours, smiling at the window when he looks at you.

You take your time looking at the artwork, both of you quietly walking while holding hands. You only talk to ask each other if you're ready to move on to the next piece.

After some time, though, Asahi speaks up and asks you if he can take a photo of you standing in front of a butterfly painting.

"Just keep looking at it and I'll take a photo from the back."

Once he stands behind you, you feel awkward and stiff in front of the camera, and it probably shows, as Asahi asks you to relax.

"Just be like you usually would!"

You try your best and Asahi eventually takes the photo.

"Can I see?" you ask him.

"Later," he says, smiling down at his phone.

On the floor below the gallery, there's a place to grab food and the two of you do just that, gushing about how cool the art in the gallery was and what your favourite pieces were. Asahi tries to imitate this robot statue you saw made of metal, and it makes you laugh so hard that you almost get kicked out.

"Asahi, I never thought you would be this fun," you say.

"Well, at work I do have to be somewhat professional," he says, smiling at you.

"At work you're just a jerk," you mumble, thinking Asahi can't hear you, even though he does.

He decides to stop being so hard on you at work, and actually follows through. Work becomes more enjoyable without angry bird Asahi and with all of the dates you go one with Asahi after work. Eventually, the two of you start to officially date, and Junkyu is shocked to his core.

"H-how did this happen...? And why did no one tell me!" he screeches when he finds out.

-

Asahi presses his lips to the back of your neck in the dark of the room, his lips curving into a smile when he hears your giggle.

"What are you doing, Sahi?"

"Something I've always wanted to do," he says, burying his face into your chest.

It's his turn to giggle as you run your fingers through his hair, tracing his butterfly birthmark with your finger.

[kartikcab]

Tempo Hire For All Occasions With Kartik cab

If you are looking towards adding comfort and luxury to your trip, we have an entire range of luxury tempo traveller in Jaipur our executive fleet that will definitely make your trip not only comfortable but also memorable for a long time. If you need a tempo for airport transfers for your arriving guests, we also offer special customized services for same which will not only add comfort to your guests arrival but will also prove to be more cost effective in comparison to other means available. Our services are completely customizable based on your needs and requirements. We have a wide range of tempoes to match your needs based on your budgets.

Some tips that will help you choose the perfect tempo traveller you need are as follows. The most important when choosing your tempo is the number of people who would need travel arrangements. You need to be precise with the number of people traveling and this will also alter the choice of tempoes available for hire. It is possible to hire multiple small capacity tempoes for a bigger number of guests but it is not economical to hire a huge tempo for a small bunch of guests. Another aspect you also need to consider is the baggage space available in the boot. With a tempo full of people, baggage space can pose a problem and should be considered at the time of booking. The arrival and departure times and the entire duration of the tempo hire also have an impact on the quote you receive for your requirement.

Luxury Tempo Traveller rental Rajasthan for Family Tour

There are many places in Rajasthan that we should explore like blue city Jodhpur, white city Udaipur and city of desert Jaisalmer, rent luxury tempo traveller in Jaipur for Rajasthan tour, if you are travelling with your large group of friends and family then luxury tempo traveller rental in Jaipur is the best option that you can get in Jaipur, Rajasthan. Hire tempo traveller in Jaipur, Rajasthan so that you don’t miss places like Jaisalmer, Sikar, Ajmer, Dausa and Laxmangarh which are few hours away from Jaipur, enjoy your family time with our Tempo Traveller Rental Jaipur,Rajasthan.

Book Tempo Traveller in Jaipur For Airport transfer

Book tempo traveller in Jaipur, Rajasthan for pick up drop and airport transfer, if a large number of group is coming then you can rent luxury tempo traveller for pick drop services, you will get neat and clean tempo traveller with experienced drivers, you will get luxury tempo traveller at your doorstep. You can hire a luxury tempo traveller in Jaipur online for airport transfer at the lowest fare, we will guarantee too that you will experience a safe ride with extra leg space. Don’t worry about delays our luxury tempo traveller service will reach at destination on time.

Luxury Tempo Traveller rental for Same Day Tour

Hire luxury 12 seater tempo traveller in Jaipur, Rajasthan,14 seater tempo traveller and 16 seater tempo traveller for the same day tour like Jaipur Ajmer same day tour, Jaipur Udaipur same day tour, Jaipur Pushkar same day tour, Jaipur Agra same day tour and Jaipur Delhi same day tour. Luxury tempo traveller with multiple seating is best for bigger families travelling together, luxury tempo traveller has spacious interiors, adjustable seats, central television extra legroom and variety of AC and Non AC tempo traveller, Just book it, tempo traveller, at affordable rates.

Contact Us:-

info@kartikcab.com

9783267458

9982110003

CGS-21, NEHRU PLACE, TONK ROAD , 302015

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Do You Tree What I Tree?

Pairing: Peter Parker x Michelle Jones (Spideychelle) Rating: T Word Count: 8730

For @justmattycakes​! Happy holidays!!! Massive thanks to @spiderman-homecomeme for organizing this Spideychelle Secret Santa!

Summary: Home from their various colleges for winter break, MJ and her friends make a day out of going to cut down their own Christmas trees. Being alone in the woods—just her, Peter, and an axe—seems like the perfect opportunity to admit that her feelings for her friend have changed.

“Wine and cider!” Peter announces, jabbing a finger at the car window as they pass a rustic-looking roadside sign.

MJ smirks to herself. His touch will probably leave a smudge on the glass, which Flash will painstakingly wipe clean later. She likes Flash much more now than she did in high school—they all do—but she likes to build up a little vindictiveness towards him in advance, for when he inevitably says or does something douchey.

“Whine inside her, is that what you’d do if you could actually get a girlfriend?” Flash asks immediately. Sweet justification for MJ, though she rolls her eyes.

Flash is driving, but Betty trusts his skill enough to smack his arm from the passenger seat, then turn to smile back at Peter.

“That sounds nice. We should definitely stop on the way back.”

“Yeah,” Ned pipes up. “Maybe they’ll have a fireplace too, where we can thaw our fingers.”

“Babe, I won’t let your fingers get cold.”

“Aw, babe,” he croons, reaching over his girlfriend’s shoulder where she sits in front of him to tangle their fingers together.

“Back to your intense lack of dateability,” Flash persists. MJ swears his original asshole persona comes out so much more whenever he slides behind the wheel of his dad’s Cadillac Escalade. “Are you having a lonely winter, Parker? With only your cold lab bench to keep you warm?”

Next to MJ, Peter sighs and mutters, “Same old Flash.” She thinks he says it only to himself, but he darts a look at her and they share a smile.

“Well, I don’t have your L.A. weather,” he allows, artfully changing topic.

Flash will talk for an hour straight about the numerous perks of attending UCLA, including the constant sunshine, the short-shorts, and the absence of his current listeners. The last they all recognize to be a blatant lie, but they like him enough to let him get away with it. MJ has a special sympathy for Flash in those moments; she’s still growing from the girl she was when they were all at Midtown together, when she found it so much easier to edge away from other people or, when she did interact, to speak defensively, insultingly, and with liberal use of the middle finger. Her communication skills have flourished with not being able to see these people in person every day. She’s actually amazed with how she’s clung to them, certain she’d failed to develop the kind of solid relationships people were supposed to form in high school and that she’d just stagger forward through her fine art degree (PoliSci minor) with a wild hope of connecting to other humans through the doodles that she’s developed into graceful sketches, from sketches to oil paintings with sweep and verve.

The five of them are in their second year at their respective centres of learning now and it feels really nice to gather after living by too-brief text exchanges, missed calls, and videocalls that somebody’s roommate inevitably arrives home in the middle of, loud and invasive. When MJ’s speaking to Ned or Flash, they can push through. They have the boisterousness and, in Ned’s case, natural good nature, to conduct two separate conversations at the same time. Betty prefers to hang up and try at a better time, when they can speak uninterrupted. Peter’s different from all of the above. MJ always sees how he blushes, as though he’s being caught talking to her. It makes her flush in return. There’s no reason for them not to be as close as either of them are with any of the others, but conversations with him make her feel different. Without meaning to, their voices lower and they wander away from whatever topic they start with; on some nights, into the most intimate tracks of their inner lives. She gets why he feels caught to be interrupted because it’s disorienting for her too, being dragged back to the larger world, hearing a voice other than his in her ear. She likes traditional phone calls with him the best because she can lie in bed with her phone pressed to her ear and he doesn’t have to know.

“Are we almost there?” Ned says when Flash pauses in his rhapsodizing of Venice Beach.

MJ, sitting in the middle of the backseat, watches her friend unlock her phone and check the map.

“Yes. Under two miles to go.”

“And we’re super sure about this place?” Ned checks.

“Mhmm. A friend of a friend in my French workshop went last year and got the most spectacular Fraser fir,” Betty assures him. “I saw it at her Christmas party. That’s the one you couldn’t go to because you got the flu, remember?”

“Ugh,” he agrees.

“We passed a tree farm awhile ago,” Peter ventures. “That wasn’t it?”

“Betty told me the owners of that farm own this lot too. It’s cheaper to get your tree here because they don’t tend the lot in the same way,” MJ informs him. She likes the look on his face when he listens. She likes the feel of his leg bumping against hers as they traverse the uneven gravel sideroad.

“Yeah, I think I’ll be making up the cost difference paying for a paint job. I can hear the stone chips!” Flash complains. As if he’s ever paid for so much as a tank of gas.

“It’s an adventure, moron,” she says.

“I wasn’t prepared for stone chips.”

“I told you everything in an email last week, when we were planning this,” Betty calmly reminds him. “We should all be prepared.”

It isn’t visible to her right now, but MJ knows her friend has a shiny, compact saw at her feet, tucked into a neat black case, looking bizarrely like a tennis racket. Her own axe is trapped beneath Peter’s shoe so it doesn’t slide forward under Flash’s seat and slice the soles off his shoes. It’s quite sharp. She made sure.

“Listen,” Flash demands, “I’m the transport. Someone else can take care of the less significant details.”

“That is so fucking dumb,” Peter mumbles.

“What?”

“I said, I hope your feet don’t go numb,” he says more loudly. MJ turns her head, like she’s trying to follow the gentle backwards sweep of falling snow with her eyes when she’s really trying to hide her smile from Flash’s suspicious gaze in the rear-view mirror. “Did you wear waterproof boots and warm socks?”

“Of course. About to make winter my bitch.”

Betty twists to catch MJ’s eye.

“You wanna take this one?”

“Go for it.”

While Betty educates Flash on why that is not an acceptable thing for him to say—not with two of his female friends in the car, or ever—MJ drums her fingers on her knees. Her mittens are piled in her lap for now; despite her natural inclination to insult Flash’s ride, it heats up nicely. Plus, she’s tucked between Peter and Ned. She glances to her right to check on the latter and finds him huffing a warm breath on the window. He traces his finger through the resulting condensation, drawing a heart and writing ‘B+N’ in the middle. MJ glances at Peter and he’s already looking at her.

“So, tree?”

“Yeah,” she says. “I’ve been told to keep it under six feet. A measuring tape and a ladder might’ve been helpful, but there wouldn’t have been anyplace to put the ladder once we got the trees on the roof of this thing.” She smacks the SUV’s ceiling and Flash goes, “HEY!”

“You can just choose a taller one,” Peter suggests, “and then cut it shorter.”

“I feel bad about the waste though. It’s a living thing.”

“I can help you with that.”

“Oh yeah?” MJ’s genuinely curious. She knows May prioritizes Hanukkah customs to keep Peter’s connection to both his ethnoreligious traditions and his lost love ones strong, so she doesn’t know how a Christmas tree fits into that.

“Right before you guys picked me up, May had an idea. She thought it might be nice just to get some pine branches for, like, generic winter decorating and to make the apartment smell good.”

“That’s a really good idea.”

“Yeah. I was gonna grab scraps from where other trees had been cut down, but I can get them off whatever tree you pick instead. Or you can. You have the axe.”

“I’ll give you a turn with it if you help me drag my tree back to the car,” MJ bargains with a smile.

“I can definitely help.”

Of course he can. He could probably carry a dozen trees if he felt like it. Over his head. With all the roots and clumps of frozen earth still attached. But the thought of him hauling the tree back with her rather than for her is something she appreciates. As she nods, she gets the fluttery feeling she’s been experiencing more and more whenever he’s called her this term. Their calls have gotten longer. A younger version of herself would be amazed at the way she can now talk for hours without noticing the time slipping past. And it never feels wasted. Actually, when they aren’t talking, MJ misses Peter. She can’t completely put it into words and so she hasn’t. What she’s done, besides continue to answer every time he calls, is offer him a chance to swing the axe she brought. Romantically, there’s room for improvement.

Their overlapping winter breaks are going to end in another week and she’s scared the calls, as treasured as they’ve become to her, won’t be enough.

“There!” Betty cries. She flings her arm across the dash to point.

“That’s the woods,” Flash says, brushing her off.

“No, that’s the driveway! You’re going to pass it!”

The jarring, inelegant jerk of the wheel as he takes Betty’s directions at the last moment tips Ned into MJ and MJ into Peter. They all groan in discomfort, but Flash seems supremely pleased with himself as he straightens the tires. Off the gravel, their passage between the trees is muffled by the packed snow on the laneway other cars have driven over. There’s a dusting on top as today’s thin flurry continues to fall. As she sits up straight following Flash’s terrible Baby Driver impression, MJ feels Peter’s hand on her back, through her coat, and her face gets hot. Unable to meet his eyes in thanks, she leans towards Ned instead and the two of them stare out at the picturesque scene where low drifts spill over the ground and every pine, spruce, and fir—all dusted in white—looks like the perfect Christmas tree.

“Hats on,” Betty instructs as Flash pulls to a stop next to a pickup truck with a tarp already laid out in its bed, awaiting a tree. “Shoelace check. Gloves and mitts secure.”

“You sound like you’re prepping us to jump out of an airplane,” Flash laughs.

He swings his door open while Betty’s trying to get back into her winterwear checklist with the rest of them, letting in a gust of cold air that disturbs the warmth MJ’s hoarded as well as Betty’s good temper. She reaches across the center console and shoves Flash with both hands, pushing him straight out of the vehicle with a “WHOA!”

Betty’s nonchalant as she flips her mirror down and adjusts the positioning of her pompom hat before stepping out of the SUV herself. Peter and Ned pile out, laughing, and MJ climbs out Peter’s side. Flash is next to the car, brushing himself off.

“I’m going to get sick,” he pouts.

“Say cheese!” Ned encourages, snapping a picture as Betty runs into shot to pose next to her victim, cupping his face between her gloved hands.

“Maybe this’ll make him change his mind about the cider place,” MJ notes to Peter hopefully.

“I feel like we’d be stopping there no matter what,” he muses. “It was either making Flash fear hypothermia or Betty sneaking back to the car first and tampering with his brake line or something.”

“So, which way looks good, babe?” Ned asks his girlfriend.

As she told them, this lot isn’t the manicured family attraction the last place was. There aren’t any employees standing around—easily spotted even as they drove past the tree farm down the road in their orange crossing-guard-style vests—or a map marking which areas are which type of tree. There’s just sort of a main track that’s been tramped down by passing feet leading between trees. It’s easy to see for a ways, but beyond that, the forest grows denser. MJ knows Betty did her homework and can identify tree varieties, and she doesn’t actually care which type she gets. She’s here for the experience, and for the idiot next to her who gives her a thrill every time the nylon sleeves of their winter coats rush against each other.

“Hmm,” Betty says, and strides forward through the narrow entrance. From there, things fan out. She taps her bow saw, now loose, against the side of her leg. “Well, what would everyone like to do?”

“I’m going wherever you are,” Ned vows. She shoots him a soft smile.

“Me too,” Flash decides. “You’ll get us in and out of here fast so we can get warm. Not like Parker, who’ll probably get lost in the first five minutes.”

“What?” Peter asks, insulted. “Will not.”

“Oh yeah? How’s your sense of direction without that robot lady in your head?”

“Karen is not a robot lady, she’s an AI.”

“Same diff.”

“It is not. A robot lady is like what they have on The Jetsons.”

“Whatever. Point is, without your GPS, I don’t trust you.”

“Well,” Peter counters, “we can just look at our phones.”

“Already tried that,” Flash informs him. “I don’t get a signal out here.”

Regardless, the rest of them check.

“That’s alright,” Betty persists, trying to be chipper to maintain group morale, MJ’s sure. “It’s daylight, the snow’s not coming down hard, and nobody’s going off alone. Now, Flash, Ned, and I are going that way.” She points, then glances from MJ to Peter. “Do you guys want to stick with us, or…?”

MJ opens her mouth and looks to Peter, shuffling beside her and doing some sort of best-friend telepathy with Ned, based on the stupid, scrunched up looks on their faces. Is he going to say something? He’ll probably want to stay with Ned. It’ll be weird if she speaks up for both of them. But if she doesn’t, when are they going to talk, just the two of them? Since they’ve all been back in the city, everything’s been done in a group—buying presents for friends and relatives, going skating, getting hot chocolate, attending Flash’s ugly holiday t-shirt party (L.A.-themed, so no sweaters allowed). The woods though. The woods are quiet and friendly and private. Snow muffles sound, fresh air and cold wake her up and fill her lungs until they burn with everything she’d say to Peter if she just had this opportunity. No Ned and Betty hanging back to offer encouraging looks, no Flash to ruin everything with a terribly timed innuendo. MJ just needs Peter. Just her and Peter. Please, dork, she thinks, don’t say Ned.

The words come from her.

“I think Peter and I’ll go that way,” she declares, nodding sharply in a direction that isn’t Betty’s.

“Yeah,” Peter adds.

Oh, thank god, MJ thinks.

“He’s gonna get you lost,” Flash warns. He’s already stamping his feet like he’s freezing to death on the spot, though the cold isn’t that bad with the tree cover. “Then he’ll go nuts in the woods.”

“I have an axe,” MJ reminds him flatly. She glances at Peter. “Bring it.”

Peter snorts a laugh.

“No one will be re-enacting anything that remotely resembles The Shining,” Betty instructs. “Meet back here in, how long, do you think?”

“Depends,” Flash says. “How long should we wait before declaring those two missing and sending out a search party, of which I will not be a member, but will be happy to direct from the comfort of the Escalade with a hot drink in my hand and my feet against the heating vent.”

“Dude, don’t do that,” Ned pleads. “You’ll make the whole car smell like your feet.”

“My ride, my rules.”

“Should we just…?” Peter asks MJ. She nods.

“Let’s go.”

“Ok, um, an hour!” Betty decides.

Peter gives her a thumbs up and the two of them follow the path as it diverges, then cut away again, wading through ankle-deep snow where no other tree-hunter has walked today. The sound of Flash goading the other two fades. MJ stops for a minute and turns to watch them march into the trees. She takes a deep breath in and out.

“You good?” Peter asks.

“Yeah.” She hefts the axe onto her shoulder to look more lumberjack-esque (and so she doesn’t slice it into her calf as she walks). “Come on.”

Despite promises to share, she refuses to surrender the tool any sooner than she must. Soon enough, she’s huffing, face passing through damp clouds of her own breath and chilling her flushed cheeks and frozen nose. Balancing her temperature out here is a tricky thing; as long as they keep moving, as they are, she stays warm, but with Peter crunching along in the snow beside her, she’s too warm. MJ bites her mitt between her teeth and unzips her coat a little to let the brisk air circulate around the back of her sweaty neck.

“You’re not gonna catch cold?” Peter asks solicitously.

She shakes her head.

“Ok,” he says, “but it’d be just like you to get sick and say nothing about it while Flash complains all the way home that he is sick when nothing’s wrong with him.”

“The only thing he’s suffering through is his body’s natural rejection of us. He spent too many years thinking he was better than we are just to end up right here, hacking down Christmas trees together.”

“Probably caroling,” Peter guesses.

“Probably. He claims his favourite holiday song is the instrumental version of ‘Carol of the Bells,’ but that has to be a lie.”

“My money’s on something super cheesy.”

“Mine too,” MJ agrees with a grin.

Gradually, she slows, taking in the pine trees around them. Her guesstimation is that some of these go up to ten or twelve feet, but there are shorter options tucked in between. Younger, or those that maybe didn’t get as much light as they grew. She wipes the back of her mittened hand across her forehead, pushing her slipping fleece headband back where it’s been sliding forward.

“So,” she asks, “any of this look good to you?”

She lowers her gaze to find Peter hastily averting his from her face.

“That one?” he says, pointing to a tree at random.

“Peter, that one’s longer than Flash’s SUV.”

“Oh. Right. Um, ok…”

Focusing now, she watches his upturned face and the serious expression that sinks into it, the way snow’s been sinking into her hair. Maybe Betty was right about wearing a hat, though Betty’s hair is also significantly flatter than hers and thus more conducive to hat-wearing. Well, it’ll be fine. They aren’t stranded or anything and the snow’s not getting to them as much as it was when they had to walk across the clearing to reach this stand of trees. They’re sheltered here. As MJ hoped, it’s quiet.

Instead of asking Peter how much of his remaining holiday he’d like to spend with her, or how he feels when she forces him to hang up the phone first (he must notice), or why, exactly, he was so quick to agree to go off into the woods with her when he could just as easily have insisted they all stay together, she criticizes the first tree he takes genuine interest in.

“Crooked.”

“Too dense.”

“Too sparse.”

“Weird empty area.”

“I swear to god, something moved in there, Peter. I do not want a fucking National Lampoon Christmas, ok? My mom will freak out if I bring a live squirrel into our home.”

He’s laughing at her when they finally spot one that looks pretty good: shorter but not squat, full but with soft, long needles rather than nasty ones bent on treating them both to non-consensual acupuncture if they stand too close. It doesn’t look sickly or as though it’s currently inhabited by birds or rodents.

“So young,” MJ does note, assessing its size in comparison to a taller tree a yard away. “Oh well.” She raises the axe and adjusts her grip.

Peter goes scrambling backwards, almost slipping, then tries to pretend he was only calmly moving out of the way, that he is not afraid of the radius of her swing. When he starts babbling about how quickly his body could probably heal from an axe wound (though, with all the crazy shit he gets up to, that’s actually not something he’s experienced yet), she finally laughs at him.

“Relax,” she says. “You can just hold the branches up at the bottom while I chop through the trunk.”

Fearless—and even more determined to prove it now that she’s given Peter a scare—MJ drops to the snow and wriggles under the tree, as close as she thinks she should be while still being able to swing the axe. Peter’s hand makes her jump. She whips her head around, nearly getting a clump of needles in the eye, but he’s only skimming her coat by accident as he gathers the lowest branches away from her. As she asked. Right, he’s not touching her on purpose and he’s not even doing the not-touching activity on purpose but because she told him to. He’s trying to help. Frustrating.

She props herself up on her elbow and takes an awkward whack at the tree. The blade sinks into the bark like it’s supposed to, but it’s still somehow surprising to feel the give. MJ takes a few more tentative swings and the axe sinks deeper, requiring some force to yank it out again. She grunts and hears Peter crouch down behind her.

“Is it going ok? Can I do anything?”

“Umm, maybe be prepared to pull the top of the tree in the other direction so it doesn’t fall on my head. I think I’m almost halfway.”

“Yes, please don’t make it fall on your head,” he requests.

“It won’t as long as you do your job,” she promises gruffly, hewing in once more.

“Do you think this would be easier with a saw?” Peter’s voice is higher now, coming from the other side of the tree. Though the branches fell when he changed position, she can feel them only resting lightly on her as he holds the top of the tree away. Probably standing on his toes.

“Don’t say anything against my axe.”

“I’m not! I was just thinking out loud!”

“A saw,” MJ informs him with another swing, “is not as badass.”

“Good point.”

But is he just agreeing because the tree’s starting to topple and the final swings to break through it take her blade closer to his shins as he dances out of the way? Maybe.

She clambers out and, with the tree now on an angle, is able to chop from an upright position, down on a diagonal until she buries her axe in the snow, then yanks it free.

“Oh, you can lay it down,” MJ tells Peter when she realizes he’s standing there with his arms full of tree, face hidden as he keeps his head pulled back from the branches.

He does so gently and then they stand there in triumph. MJ hurls her axe into the ground.

“Would you quit that?” Peter requests, jumpy.

She grins.

“Sorry. Just really feeling this.”

“I can tell.”

They took their time making their selection and can do one of two things next: either trim the branches for Peter to take home to May right here or drag the tree back to Flash’s SUV and perform the necessary amputations there. They do neither. MJ shrugs her shoulders and flexes her fingers inside her mittens, exorcising the tension of gripping the axe’s handle. She turns, glancing casually around, but really looking for something invisible—a reason to stay. A rational delay before rejoining the others.

“Hold still,” Peter says, as she’s looking back the way they came. The way she thinks they came. They stomped around this area, circling every tree, for a while, so the footprints are a little confused.

“What? If you try to tell me there’s a squirrel in my hair, I’m not going to believe you.”

He smiles softly.

“No squirrel, just snow.”

She stares at her friend warily as he approaches, then sweeps snow from her headband. That’s when she realizes one side of her coat is soaked from lying on the ground. It can’t get through though, it’s just the outer layer. Still, Peter walks a complete circle around her, wiping snow away.

“There,” he says.

MJ sighs.

“Peter…”

“Yeah?”

His face is so open as he looks at her, flakes flying around and between them. Her heart squeezes almost painfully because there have been so many days of not seeing his face without the assistance of a screen. Now that he’s here, it’s too much.

“Umm… how many branches do you think May wants?”

MJ crouches and puts her back to him, feigning being deep in concentration over the fresh Christmas corpse splayed out in the snow. She feels like a detective at a crime scene. Peter exhales heavily behind her, then drops to her level.

“More is probably better, right? She’ll probably take some in to work or try to give them to the neighbours anyway.”

“True.” They both reach for the axe. “Go ahead,” MJ says, quickly withdrawing her hand.

Peter shaves off what he thinks May might like—plus at least an armload more—in quick slices and snips.

“Jeeze, this thing is sharp.”

“I know,” she says proudly.

“I want one. For the suit, I mean. You think that could work?”

“Well, you already have a bunch of less probable-sounding features, so why not a spider with an axe made of webs?”

“Ned’s gonna be so excited when I tell him.”

“I’m excited,” she says, maybe a little too forcefully. It’s not a competition. She doesn’t think he’s already forgotten about her. There’s just some kind of glitch in her brain-to-mouth connection that no Spidey tech could possibly fix.

“I think we’re ahead of schedule,” Peter tells her.

He pulls out his phone to check the time while MJ cleaves into the fallen tree’s trunk, cutting it down to a size more suited to transport and her family’s apartment.

“We could do this in two trips,” he presses. “Take the tree and come back for the branches? Or vice versa?”

“I think we can manage it in one.”

She glances at him and he looks mildly frantic.

“Or two,” MJ amends. “Two would be better.”

Are they finally going to talk? That has to be the reason for Peter stretching this out, doesn’t it? But he moves quickly to grip the lowest branches of the tree, down where MJ severed it, and she grabs those on the opposite side of the trunk. After a jerk to get it going, they slide the tree smoothly over the snow, leaving a fine trail of needles. It occurs to her, as they walk, that she was worried about this part on the way in here, that the tree might pick up dirt from where others have walked, but the ground looks fresh and sparkling in the sun. That’s not familiar.

“Peter? Are we going the right way?”

“What? Yeah. Aren’t we? We have to be. Because the sun was…”

He gestures very unconvincingly overhead and her heart plummets in her chest. For once, not because she’s scared of saying something about her feelings for him and hearing they aren’t reciprocated, but because what Peter’s not saying directly is that they might be lost. And the worst part of that scenario is Flash being right. No, no, no, Peter will not make Flash right, not today.

“It’s been snowing,” she reviews. Stupid and obvious, but facts are soothing to her. “How much do you think it’s snowed? Not that much, right? It can’t have. We must’ve just started walking the wrong way.”

“Definitely. Ok, let’s turn around.”

So, they swing the tree with them and strike out in the opposite direction, not going very quickly as they navigate the trees. They pass the stump they lately created and MJ plucks her axe from the snow on the way past. It just makes her feel better, having it.

Unfortunately, this way isn’t correct either.

“Alright,” she says slowly. “What the fuck.”

“Let’s leave the tree for a minute.”

They set it down. She realizes she’s sweating.

“How could we be lost? How could you be lost?”

“There aren’t exactly landmarks,” Peter says. “It’s just… trees.”

“Maybe we should’ve gone to a place with signposts and neat little rows.”

“That doesn’t sound like you.”

He wanders over to her, watching her with careful eyes.

“I wasn’t this cold when I called today an adventure.”

“Maybe you should zip your coat back up.”

But she’s too warm and uncomfortable to do that just to challenge how he’s calling her bluff.

“Are you scared?” he asks. “You don’t need to be scared. I think we did a lot of circling. We didn’t walk too far in any one direction. I could climb a tree and look around?”

“Climb a tree? One of these trees? The ones covered in snow with the thin branches and the spiky needles?”

“Hey,” Peter jokes, hitting her arm with his elbow, “you’re supposed to be cheering me on.”

“I…” She closes her mouth. He frowns.

“Is something wrong?”

“We’re lost and Flash is going to gloat.”

“Besides that.”

“You’re trying really hard to get us out of here.” That should be a compliment, a commendation, but it sounds accusing as it leaves her mouth. MJ feels on-edge, heart beating all wrong.

“…Should I not be?”

God, she’s being strange. She can feel herself being strange. Everything’s aligning to buy her more time and she’s panicking trying to work out what to do with it. The snow is falling softly all around and she’s auditioning to play the most awkward protagonist in the history of Hallmark holiday movies.

“Are you looking forward to going back?” MJ asks abruptly.

“To the car?”

“To school. In January.”

“Umm, kinda? I mean, it’s going well. But you know that, we talked about this stuff the other day when you and Ned were over at May’s.”

“Yeah.” She’s thinking, staring down at her cut tree, debating how to mention that there’s one thing they didn’t talk about, that she couldn’t bring up, because she felt strange about doing it with Ned there. She goes to continue, unsure of her phrasing, but ready to push onward, when Peter answers, looking thoughtfully up at the pale-grey snow clouds.

“It’s really nice to be home, but I also don’t like living in the past.”

He glances at her to see what she thinks. She’s noticed that he does that a lot, when they’re on a video call. Sometimes, she teases him about it—the way he makes certain assertions sound like questions because he wants her input, values her opinion, thinks of her as wiser than him (she is) though he’s the genius playing around at the upper end of the grading curve in all of his classes.

“Sorry, what were you gonna say?” he asks, spotting the unfinished thought in her expression, how she holds her eyebrows a little too tightly together.

MJ shakes her head.

“It’s nice to have you home.” As Peter’s beginning to smile, swaying slightly towards her, she rambles on, “It’s nice to have everyone home. I mean, I could go longer between having to see Flash in person, but what can you do, right? It’s worth it to have Ned home. And Betty. And you.”

She swallows.

“There!” he shouts, pointing past her. She squints.

“What is it?”

“Our tracks.”

Trusting his superior eyesight, MJ troops after him. Sure enough, their deep treads from earlier are still faintly present—now gentle indents as the snowfall works to even everything out again.

“But we don’t have to hurry back,” Peter says. She avoids his eyes.

“Except we probably do, now that we’ve wasted time being lost.”

“We were never actually lost.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself so you can sleep at night, Spider-Man. Help me with the tree.”

He does, then hightails it back to collect May’s branches once MJ’s in the clearing with only the little trail left between her and the makeshift parking lot. She pulls her bounty along and through the gap, suddenly back with the rest of her friends.

“Did you manage to lose Parker out there?” Flash asks immediately. “Nice. Up top.”

She rolls her eyes instead of meeting his hand in a high five.

“He just had to go back for something,” MJ explains, expressly for the benefit of Ned and Betty.

“What’d he do, drop some of you guys’ sexual tension in the woods?”

Flushing with the sting in the air and self-consciousness, she walks past Flash. Just close enough to drag the tree over his feet and make him start whining about getting dirt on his blindingly-white designer snow boots. When his complaints cut off, she knows she’s in trouble. It’s like the sudden silence in a horror movie that you just know means nothing good.

“Never mind,” Flash says loudly. “Sexual tension present and accounted for.”

MJ whirls around to see Peter’s arrived and is staring at her with a pleading look on his face. Or he was, until Flash’s words sunk in. Surely, Peter’s fast enough to snatch his keys, toss them to Betty, and have them all climb into the SUV and wheel outta here, leaving Flash behind? But during the holidays? She’d feel bad. He’s lucky.

“Can we just get the trees loaded?” Peter asks, moving to help MJ pull hers closer to demonstrate that it’s not so much a question for Flash as a demand for him to shut the hell up. Flash probably doesn’t understand. He’d need tact for that.

“Fine. And not a scratch on the Escalade,” Flash commands.

He opens the trunk to reveal a set of carefully folded tarps; they’re too ratty to actually belong to him, so MJ’s betting that they’re Betty’s or Ned’s. Those two went on a big, romantic camping trip together right after high school graduation, so these could be remnants. The first tarp crinkles in Peter’s hands as he pulls it out and unfolds it. Beneath the second—removed by Ned—there’s a Burberry blanket protecting the SUV from the tarps. Honestly. Momentarily forgetting about their awkward moment in the forest, MJ catches Peter’s eye and nods at the blanket. The two of them start laughing and soon, Betty and Ned have spotted them and are laughing too. Flash is perplexed, which, as always, is when he gets grouchy and defensive.

“Can we pick up the pace, people?” he requests. “I need a hot drink and an even hotter fire. I can barely feel my fingers.”

“Wait.” MJ frowns and pauses in assisting Peter with dragging the longest tarp onto the roof of the SUV. “I have a tree, Ned and Betty each have trees… Flash, where’s your tree?”

She turns her head and notices Ned just cutting off a gesture of slicing a hand across his throat to insist on her not finishing that question. Betty sighs and explains.

“Flash’s service came back while we were out there.”

“Dude,” Peter huffs, stretching to reach and finish tugging the tarp into place, “you had service? You could’ve texted us to see if we were, I don’t know, lost.”

“This should come as no surprise to you, Parker,” Flash says snootily, “but I had other priorities.”

“Oh yeah?” MJ questions suspiciously.

“He went online and bought an artificial tree,” Betty says with a roll of her eyes.

“Sacrilege.”

“More like brilliance,” Flash corrects. “It has snow-encrusted branches, pre-strung lights, and the thing isn’t gonna die in a week, so it’s better for the environment.”

“Isn’t it plastic?” MJ checks in a slow voice, waiting for him to catch on.

“Yeah.”

“Then the process used to produce it created harmful emissions and when you find it next year and decide to throw it out because you’re no longer ‘feelin’ it’ or whatever excuse you have, it’ll go straight in the trash and from there to one of the many, many local and international landfills that house our city’s waste.”

“You’re pretty judgy for a girl who just fucking murdered a tree.”

“I did my research,” MJ counters easily. “This is a sustainably managed forest. They maintain the trees, protect new growth and transplant saplings every spring to ensure the health of not only the cash crop, but the forest as a whole. Pre-light that, dickhead.”

Feeling flustered, she goes to give Betty and Ned a hand with positioning their tree on the roof. MJ stands on the ledge offered by the open trunk and stabilizes the tree while the others guide it into position.

“Tension,” she hears Flash diagnose under his breath. He’s smart enough to not meet her eye when she glares down at him.

They encounter a small problem while loading the second tree: both Betty and Ned have selected especially full specimens. Side by side, they take up the entire roof, and MJ’s tree is still on the ground with Peter’s mountain of branches, waiting to be slung onboard.

“I don’t think it’ll fit,” Ned says after jumping into the air twice to take a look at the available space (none).

“Neither do I,” she agrees. “Guess it’s going in the trunk.”

“In the trunk?” Flash is there in a, well, flash. He slipped into the driver’s seat, ostensibly to doublecheck their route home, but really to start his seat-warmer and turn the Christmas radio station back on. His distress is juxtaposed against a jazzy rendition of ‘Winter Wonderland.’

“Yeah. There’s nowhere else.”

“Guys, please. Are you trying to get back at me for the sexual tension comment? It’s forgotten. I lied. No tension here. Cut the act and tell me that thing’s going on the roof with the others.”

“While ‘that thing’ is a capitalist nexus, it’s also a precious symbol of everything I love about Christmas,” MJ says firmly, “and it’s going in the trunk of this SUV.”

“Guys?” Flash glances at the other three, but nobody sides with him.

“Don’t worry, Flash,” Betty says kindly. “We won’t use the second tarp to go on top of the roof trees, we’ll line the trunk with it instead. There won’t be any needles, I promise.”

That is definitely not a promise she can make, and MJ’s sure her friend is aware, but she’s taking a shortcut to winning this standoff and MJ admires that. The placating seems to wash over Flash like the spirit of Christmas over Scrooge McDuck. Suddenly, he’s smiling.

“Yeah. We can do that. Of course. But.” Oh no. The smile’s warping. Flash is about to be an asshole again, MJ can see it coming fast on the horizon. “The tree’s going to take up more space than just the trunk.”

MJ peers into the SUV. Shit. He’s probably right.

“Oh,” says Betty, not getting the issue, “well, we can fold the seats down, right? The tree isn’t that tall. Come on, guys, we’ve had real problems. This is nothing!”

She beams at them and Ned wraps an arm around her, hugging her to his side.

“We’ll lose a seat in the back,” MJ says.

She’s profoundly annoyed by the satisfaction on Flash’s face as she’s the one to say the words, point out the obvious. Isn’t she always? It feels like her role in this friend group and she never minds that, never has until this very situation and its inevitable conclusion.

“Somebody’s gotta sit on somebody else’s lap,” Flash singsongs. “And it’s not me because I’m the driver!”

The other four look at each other.

“Betty,” Ned begins, “you and I could…”

“But she needs to be in the front to navigate,” Flash irritatingly points out, “and before you say it, you shouldn’t double up in the front. It’s not safe.”

Maybe they can back over him when they steal his ride and drive out of here, MJ theorizes. She sighs. Loudly. Vexedly.

“I’ll sit on Peter.”

She proceeds to make eye contact with none of them, just fishes a sloppy coil of rope out of the back and works with Betty to feed it over the trees and through the windows. Some cold air will blow into the SUV, but that won’t matter so much to her, she guesses, since she’ll have the benefit of Peter’s body heat. Who needs a seat-warmer when you can have an actual human lap? Ugh, no, not funny, but she tried to consider it in a way that doesn’t make her want to volunteer to sit in the trunk with her tree.

Finally, they lift her tree and Peter’s branches inside, position them, and shut the trunk. Flash is whistling ‘Carol of the Bells’ as he practically skips to the driver’s seat. Betty, far more compassionate, gives MJ a reassuring look before she gets in. Then Peter climbs into the back, taking the middle seat, and glances at her, lingering in the snow. She groans to herself and folds into the car as Ned gives her an encouraging pat on the back.

Maneuvering is awkward. Peter cranes his neck back like his whole body is leaning to make room for her, but it’s not possible—he’s already pressed back against the seat. She sits. He rustles beneath and behind her. Before she can panic and insist on walking home, Ned gets in and slams the door closed (Flash complains).

“Uh,” Peter starts, “do you wanna shift forward so I can buckle my—”

“Absolutely not. If we’re sharing a seat, we’re sharing a seatbelt. I don’t want to end this excursion by flying through the windshield when Flash swerves the car off the road because he sees a snowdrift that looks like a butt or something.”

“Hey! I’m an excellent driver,” he complains, starting the car.

“I could just, like, hold onto you?” Peter offers.

MJ’s heartbeat rockets. She presses the top of her head to the ceiling to ground herself.

“No. We’re using the seatbelt.”

Peter stretches it away from the seat and holds it for her to grab; she passes it back for him to fasten. The second it clicks into place, Flash throws the SUV into reverse and hits the gas. Peter must move his head away from behind hers because MJ’s genuinely surprised not to feel his nose break against the back of her skull.

“Excellent driver, huh?” she questions flatly.

“There was ice.”

“Sure there was.”

Flash winks at her in the rear-view mirror and instead of siding with her, MJ catches Ned chuckling.

“I’m sorry, but it’s funny. You guys look ridiculous seatbelted together,” he says.

But she doesn’t feel so much ridiculous as confused and on alert, swaying with Flash’s accelerations and decelerations (thankfully minor compared to how he started off). Every time, Peter’s hands jump to grab her: shoulders, waist, legs. Once, he grabs her hands and even though she still has her mittens on, dripping melting snow onto the seat on one side and the tree branch she’s clutching on the other, it’s startling.

“Sit still,” Peter tells her when she jerks out of his hold.

“You sit still.”

He laughs.

“I can’t go anywhere—you’re sitting on me.”

“Then try having less bony legs,” she suggests, though they both know the nerd has more muscle mass in one of his legs than the rest of the SUV’s occupants have in their entire bodies combined.

“Right up here!” Betty directs. “We have to pay.”

MJ sags gratefully into Peter, relaxed for the first moment of the short drive from the lot to the tree farm. She tenses up again when they pull in and Betty offers to be the one to hop out and pay for their trees. There is no reprieve from Peter’s lap. She hands over her cash to her friend with a sigh and listens while the trees are removed from the roof, shaken by a machine to rid them of loose needles, and replaced for transport home. When the trunk opens and the tree farm guy slides MJ’s little tree free, she shivers at the cold air blowing in.

“Take off your mitts and put your hands by the vent,” Peter suggests.

MJ looks around and sees that the only vent she can reach is the one their feet are bracketing, down by the floor. She fights the grip of the seatbelt to bend forward. Ah. Hot air on her freezing fingers, plus, she’s out of the draft coming through the open trunk.

“This is better. Thanks, dork.”

She glances back and spots the stricken look on her friend’s face as he watches her, still seated on his lap, but now bent over. MJ sits swiftly upright.

“I’m actually not that cold,” she says, spine rigid beneath her coat and her sweaters.

Peter sighs and, while Ned’s looking out the window to watch her tree get vibrated and wrapped, tentatively offers MJ his hands. If Ned notices that they’re holding hands when the SUV is completely repacked and they’re on their way to the place with the wine and cider, he doesn’t say a word about it. It’s shared body heat. It’s a survival tactic. That’s what MJ tells herself as she finds her and Peter’s fingers moving gently from a perfunctory clasp to intertwining.

They stay that way until Flash pulls off the road at the cider spot, which turns out to be an apple orchard. Well, more than just the orchard; there’s a whole barn here, but fancy, with a designated lot and possibly a restaurant inside.

“This is so cute!” Betty says.

MJ concentrates on shaking her hands out of Peter’s before Flash puts the SUV in park and turns around to see them.

The two of them are the last out of the car and she’s stiff with the silence, listening to their friends laugh and gripe about the cold (Flash) as they wait with Ned’s door open. Before MJ can push through her thoughts and fears to say anything, Peter’s arm comes around her. Her eyes widen. …And he unbuckles the seatbelt. Probably just because she was taking too long. She slips over into Ned’s vacant seat and is about to scramble out when Peter catches her hand. MJ turns.

“Will you tell them we’ll meet them inside?” he requests.

Heart hammering, she relays the message, then looks on as Ned and Betty hustle Flash through the doors before can make another of his unwelcome comments or otherwise interfere.

“I think we really need to talk,” Peter says, after MJ pulls the door closed to preserve what little heat is left in the vehicle.

“We talk all the time,” she argues. She thinks, Yes, please talk to me.

“About a lot of stuff. You know, most stuff.” He wedges his fingers under the edge of his hat to run them nervously through his hair.

“That’s a generalization, but a fair one.”

“But, you know, lately, I’ve been, uh, wishing that we could talk about…”

“…even more stuff?” MJ guesses, hopes.

“Yeah.”

“Me too.”

“You know, our schools aren’t that far apart,” he says, like it’s the first time he’s realizing this.

She smiles wryly.

“I’m aware. That’s why I came out for Thanksgiving first year when you couldn’t make it back to Queens. Even if we did eat take-out shrimp Pad Thai instead of homecooked turkey.”

“And,” Peter adds, “it’s why I showed up at your dorm to help you study for that midterm you were stressing about in October.”

“And why I picked up when you called me every night,” MJ says, quieter. He smiles softly.

“I was talking about the distance.”

Summoning her courage, she looks him right in the eye and lets her still-uncovered hand sneak back over his.

“What distance?”

“You’re my best friend,” Peter starts. “You and Ned.” MJ frowns. Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit, she’s misjudged this, seriously misjudged this.

“Oh. Well. Great. Cool.”

“No, MJ!” he says quickly, noticing the look on her face. He flips his hand under hers so their palms meet. “I’m definitely in love with you, I just mean… Well, oops, I guess I said it.”

She’s pretty impressed with her own control over her facial features—maintaining a slightly-happier-than-neutral expression—when half of her brain is setting off fireworks that seem to be landing and fizzing around on the other half. He’s in love with her. Definitely.

“For as fast as your mind works, your mouth always manages to get ahead of it,” she observes.

Peter’s expression goes from tortured and fumbling to sharp and decisive.

“That’s good advice.”

“What? That wasn’t advi—”

He darts forward and kisses her, hand emphatically clutching hers. There’s a humorous smack when their mouths separate.

“Oh my god,” Peter says, “I forgot to ask if it was ok to do that.”

MJ smirks.

“My only complaint is that you beat me to it when I’ve been trying to figure out how to do that all day.”

“I did wonder,” he admits with a small smile.

“And you couldn’t have helped me out?” she asks, exasperated.

“A big part of being friends with you is knowing you rarely need help. You’re good, like, ninety percent of the time.”

“What do you do the other ten percent?”

Peter shrugs.

“Kiss you and ask if you have plans for New Year’s? By the way, do you have plans for New Year’s?”

He tries to adopt a casual expression but now that MJ thinks about it, she can’t recall the last time her friend looked at her with anything like mild interest. He can’t pull it off anymore, if he ever could. Apparently, she wasn’t always watching that well, because she clearly didn’t know everything.

Peter loves her. He loves her.

“I have a feeling I’ll probably be available,” she tells him. “I have a bad habit of trying to be where you are.”

“I love that about you.”

MJ kisses him quickly, then shoves him away, nearly into the pine tree resting on his other side. Whoops. It’s just that she can feel how easy it would be to get caught up in this moment, and they’re still in the back of Flash’s SUV. People are waiting for them. She takes a deep breath and gives Peter a searching look.

“If we walk in there like this—” She shakes their clasped hands. “—what do I say?”

“Tell them your hands were cold.”

“I… I don’t want to hide it, I just…”

“I know. It’s ok. It’s new.”

“Yeah.”

Peter nods sympathetically. He’s her friend first; he’s not going to push her to speak before she’s ready. (He probably knows he couldn’t if he wanted to.)

She hauls the door open and they stride through the snowy parking lot together. The sun’s already struggling to come out and flakes whip high into the air, catching in the light. They step inside the building to see brightness streaming through the windows, their trio of friends crowded around a table. Flash seems to be making Ned sprinkle cinnamon into his hot apple cider while he films it—presumably to post for the enjoyment of the Flash Mob. (That’s still going. He has a shocking number of followers.) Betty turns and her gaze slips down to their joined hands. She smiles.

MJ has the excuse ready. When Flash and Ned glance over, she’s prepared to tell them her hands were cold.

She opens her mouth.

“Peter’s my boyfriend now.”

[athingthatwantsvirginia]

Andy Warhol Arguments

PART TWENTY-NINE OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: vomiting, periods, mentions of parent death, plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 5.9K

Summary: Ella feels the stress of her new life in Philadelphia.

Rubbing at his eyes, Jess shut the alarm clock off and furrowed his brows when he saw Ella wasn’t next to him. Her side of the bed was cold and didn’t look nearly as disheveled. But the anxiety at her absence quickly subsided as he walked out into the living room. With papers strewn around on the coffee table in front of her, Ella had spread out on the couch with no blanket, despite the Autumn chill in the air. She was still in her dress from the day before, and it was twisted around her form, riding up her thighs. Mascara was smudged around her eyes. Jess smirked, then went over and began shaking her shoulder gently. The light was soft through the gray curtains, and the sky was overcast. Even still, she squinted as she stirred awake, confused at her location.

“Elle? Wake up,” Jess said, coaxing her out of her groggy state. “Jeez, how late did you stay up?”

She sighed, sitting up and gathering herself. “I don’t know. I was grading essays for at least a couple more hours after you went to bed. But I couldn’t keep my eyes open, so I was just gonna rest for a little while. Obviously, that was naive of me.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her cheek before going to put on the tea and coffee in the kitchen.

“What time is it?” she asked, stretching her arms high over her head as she stood up, her skirt falling around her knees again. She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to wake herself up and shake off the throb pulsing behind her eyes.

“Seven,” Jess replied, filling the coffee pot up with water.

Ella nodded, relieved. Her first class wasn’t until nine. At least she would have time to shower off her makeup from the day before, and brush her teeth. The taste in her mouth made her grimace; she couldn’t believe she’d fallen asleep without brushing her teeth. It was almost time for midterms at school, and the students in the art history class she was a teacher’s assistant for had just turned in their first major essays. Overall, they were pretty decent. But, she was also never one to shy away from the red pen. Shuffling the stacks of paper on the table into neat rectangles, she stifled a yawn.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” she said, coming to lean against the island. “I’d probably scare the undergrads if I showed up like this. Thanks for waking me. I would’ve slept forever if I could.”

“I know.” Jess turned on the tea kettle and faced her. “You gotta take it a little easier. I think that vein in your forehead is bound to pop, the way things are going.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, Mariano. The concern is appreciated but not necessary.”

“You’ve slept a total of, like, seven hours in the past three days,” he argued.

“Hypocrite,” she scoffed, making for their bedroom again to get fresh clothes.

“Nihilist,” Jess retorted, calling after her. He would’ve worried about the volume of his voice so early in the morning, but he could already hear Matthew and Chris talking through the walls.

Ella chuckled breathily, half-heartedly. “I’m not the one who hung Nietzche above our bed.”

.   .   .

Despite Ella’s time at Luke’s, she had never mastered making breakfast. Or cooking in general. Baking came natural and easy, her pies a hit at every single holiday and gathering she brought them to. But she burned the toast, didn’t fry the bacon long enough, couldn’t get the pancakes just right. Jess, however, had somehow picked up cooking skills between sighs and snide remarks. He and Chris took turns making breakfast sometimes, when everyone didn’t just resort to cereal. It was common knowledge in the apartment, though, that both Ella and Matthew were best away from the kitchen in the morning hours.

As Ella reemerged from the bedroom, her hair damp and braided, her simple black dress loose and comfortable, the smell of the scrambled eggs Jess was making hit her in the face. Pepper and butter and orange juice mixed in, Chris on the couch flipping through the news channels on the TV sat opposite, Matthew at the counter talking with Jess. With everyone up so early, it made sense Jess would make something. She wondered sometimes if it was nostalgia which drove him, serving them food as Luke did his customers. And, of course, he lived above the business he owned just like his uncle. Ella had pointed out the irony to him more than once. After all, Ella knew just how much Jess looked up to Luke, even if he would never admit it in so many words.

Her stomach did a flip instead of growling as it usually would have, as the ache in her head pounded with the beat of her heart. It made her want to sigh audibly, but she bit it back. The only silver lining of the morning had been not bleeding through her dress and onto the couch, her period having shown up at some point in the night. Cramps were already twisting her insides, nauseating her.

“Did you hear what Bush did last night?” Chris asked, head perking up when he saw her enter the room. He held a coffee in one hand, the liquid pale from copious amounts of milk and sugar.

“Please don’t tell me,” she said tiredly, hopping onto a stool next to Matthew. “I can’t handle his idiocy this morning.”

“I’ll spare you, then.”

“Thank you so much.”

Matthew chuckled breathily at them, sipping from his own mug. He was clean-shaven again, having stayed at the apartment for the first time in several days. Still, they did not know the name of the mysterious girlfriend.

“He’s never that nice to me,” Matthew said, his words a joking sigh.

Ella shrugged. “He owes me for covering his ass when he pissed off that spoken word lady last week.”

“Not my fault,” Chris chimed in from the couch, defensive.

“Right, so when you told her she wasn’t as important as the other woman, that wasn’t your fault? Someone else said that?” Ella prodded, eyebrows raised skeptically.

Chris sighed heavily. “I didn’t say that. She just heard me wrong.”

“Excuses, excuses,” Ella chided.

Scoffing, Chris turned his eyes back to the TV and said nothing more. Ella snorted at his petulance, facing ahead where Jess stood over the stove. With a spatula in one hand and the handle of a frying pan in the other, she was reminded again of their days at the diner. Of a lonely morning when Luke had an appointment and Ella had gotten into a fight with her father. It was the first time Jess had made her breakfast. A wistful look crossed her face, and she was lost in thought when Jess put her tea down in a mug in front of her.

“Earth to Eleanor,” he said, waving a hand in front of her face. “What, thinking about Emily Dickinson again?”

“Close, but no,” she replied, blinking herself out of her daze and taking the mug with both hands. She blew steam from the top and shot him a small smile. “Thanks, cutie.”

Rolling his eyes, Jess went back to the stove with a flushed face. He didn’t have to look back over to know she had a teasing grin on her lips. Since their ride to California, she’d been poking at him with the nickname. He thought she would let it go, but then he remembered who he was dealing with. And though he wouldn’t admit it, as he blushed, it was growing on him just a touch. Besides, he knew it was due retaliation for ‘honey,’ which he still used on a daily basis.

“You want toast with these eggs?” he asked, hoping his face would cool down sometime soon.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Ella shook her hand. “No thanks, actually, I’m good without either. Just tea is fine.”

Jess’s brows furrowed immediately and he looked up from his work, tilting his head at her. “Really? You sure?”

She shrugged. “Yeah, I’m not hungry.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. Getting a good look at her, he thought she was paler than normal, though it could have just been his imagination. Lack of sleep probably wasn’t helping her pallor, anyway.

“You might be hungry later.”

“Well, I’ll come back here for lunch. Four hours isn’t so long,” she said, her tone light against his puzzled gaze.

“Okay, Stevens,” he said suspiciously, but then let the subject drop. It was strange for her to skip breakfast, sure. But it was also strange for her to stay up half the night grading papers; perhaps she was just having an off day.

Her eyes lingered on his a little longer, but she kept her emotions masked beneath a complacent smile. Eventually, Jess focused back on the eggs which he was apparently making for himself. Matthew had a plate in front of him, and Chris had already scarfed his down.

“Oh my god, guys,” Chris piped up from the couch again.

Ella suppressed a groan; he updated them on various happenings from the news every single morning. The information was rarely relevant to anything.

“What?” Jess asked flatly, putting the eggs on his own plate and setting them down across the counter from Ella. He leaned against the tiled surface as he ate.

“There’s like three people in Berkeley with mad cow disease,” Chris answered, a shocked look on his face. Ella had no idea how he kept up so much energy, and could be so consistently amazed at the world around him. It was a little exhausting, but endearing nonetheless.  

She scoffed. “Good thing I couldn’t afford it, then.”

Jess nodded knowingly as he chewed.

“What?” Matthew asked.

“Oh,” Ella said casually, taking another sip of the tea. She wished it was green, but Jess would almost certainly have more questions for her, about whether she was getting a migraine, if she drank that. Already, she could see him trying to get her to stay home. And she simply couldn’t flake so close to mid-terms. “When I was a kid, I always wanted to go to Berkeley. Maybe because it was the farthest place I could think of. But I’d never been there. And after finally making it to California, I’d say it’s a good thing the tuition was too insane for me to handle.”

A bark of a laugh came from Chris. “Yeah, you’re too pretentious for anything but the East coast.”

“I am not,” she retorted, not even turning around to face him again. “Maybe I’m just too much of a realist for that hippie bullshit.”

“More like a stick-up-your-ass killjoy, but sure, I guess realist is another way to put it,” Chris said, with self-satisfied lilt in his tone.

“Fuck off,” she shot back lazily. Both Jess and Matthew watched on in amusement, as they had grown accustomed to doing, while she continued. “You’re just pissed you’re not deep enough to understand true art. All you can wrap your brain around is ABBA and Andy Warhol.”

“Andy Warhol was an American treasure!”

Ella finally turned around to see Chris shooting daggers at her. “Andy Warhol was a sellout! I have a whole book about him; you can borrow it!”

“Oh, well, if a book says so,” Chris mocked, feigning belief.

She laughed. “It’s too early and there’s just not enough time for me to explain to you how wrong you are. I gotta get to class. Professor Stanton wants me to go over her presentation with her before.”

Getting down off the stool, she rushed behind the counter and gave Jess a long kiss goodbye. Her feet felt heavy in her black oxfords as she went over to the door, donning her peacoat from the rusty rack and grabbing her bag.

“See you for lunch at noon?” she asked, throwing one last look at Jess.

He nodded, gave her a reassuring smile. She seemed frazzled and uneasy. “I’ll be here, Daria.”

“Just checking, James Dean.”

“Bye, Ella,” Matthew said.

Ella gave him a little wave and rolled her eyes when Chris was silent from the couch, pouting over her slight to his god, Andy Warhol. “Fuck you very much, Chris.”

He yelled an cheerful obscenity back to her as she raced out the door, the old bronze clock down in the main room of Truncheon chiming half past eight.

.   .   .

By lunch, her headache had progressed to a full-on migraine, but she still had one more class and office hours to attend to, so she was pressing on. The day was chilly, a faint drizzle misting her as she trudged up the sidewalk back to Truncheon. She made a note to herself to grab an umbrella before leaving again; at least it hadn’t started pouring on her walk. Her old shoulder bag was dragging on her tired frame, packed to the brim with books and papers. The green fabric was faded to almost gray, as she had been lugging the bag around since high school. But it had yet to rip or fray, and she’d added a few patches to the front at some point during college. What wasn’t broken, she didn’t intend trying to fix. Why waste the time?

She was glad to be met with the familiar smell of old books as she reentered the small publishing company. Matthew was reorganizing shelves to his preference, silent and analytical. Hanging her bag and coat on the hook by the door, she ran her hands up and down over her own arms in an attempt to warm up. The tights she wore were thin and cheap. Chris was nowhere to be seen, which Ella was almost grateful for. As much as she enjoyed the two guys, Jess was the only one she wanted in the moment. And though what she really wanted was to lean her head on his shoulder and fall asleep, an hour for lunch up in the apartment, as they had every day, would have to do.

Sluggish as she ascended the stairs, Ella felt a gnawing hunger in her stomach, but was nervous to eat. With the cramps ripping up her insides, she knew whatever she downed might just come back up. Jess was already upstairs, reading at the counter, when she opened the door to the apartment, and he looked up with a tiny smirk as she walked in.

“Hey, Daria,” he said, marking the place in his book and tossing it aside.

She shot him a weak smile of greeting and made for the fridge, scanning the various homemade leftovers and takeout boxes. Jess came up behind her, peering in over her shoulder. At his closeness and his aroma of pine, she breathed a sigh of relief and stopped what she was doing. Just having him near made her feel better instantly, knowing she would come home to him at the end of the day.  A mixture of emotions welled inside her, rising up in her throat. Shutting the fridge door and spinning around to face him, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and enveloped him in an embrace. His arms twined around her waist instinctively, but he let out a surprised chuckle.

“Hey.” Her voice was muffled against his shirt and when she pulled away, Jess thought he saw a fond sorrow in her eyes. She pressed a kiss to his lips.

He tilted his head at her when their lips were separated again. “What was that for?”

Ella shrugged. “No reason.”

Soon, they sat next to each other at the island with a container of cold lo mein split on two plates in front of them. Breaking the comfortable silence, Jess set his fork down and turned to her, a hesitant look on his face. He had held off telling her as long as he could stand; he could rant about it forever, but still didn’t want to say a word.

“Liz called me earlier,” he began, watching her glance up from her plate, where she pushed her food around, noncommittal.

She raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Um...she’s pregnant.” Jess ran a hand over his mouth and sighed lightly.

Her eyes perked up in surprise. “What?”

“Unfortunately, it seems TJ’s incompetence in everything else didn’t extend to his reproductive skills.”

She snorted a half-hearted laugh and trained her eyes on him carefully. “Are you okay?”

He nodded. “I’m fine.”

“Okay, chatty Kathy,” she said, taking a sip of her water and then facing him fully. “But, how do you feel about it?”

“Honestly, Elle?” he asked, his tone dejected. He didn’t quite meet her gaze. “I don’t know. Jimmy’s got a stepdaughter. Now, Liz is gonna have a new kid. It’s...I don’t know. I just hope she doesn’t binge-drink quite as much as she did with me.”

Ella furrowed her brows.

“I was five weeks early and I weighed something like four pounds. She says she doesn’t remember most of being pregnant,” Jess explained, a bitter tinge to his words.

“Jesus Christ,” Ella muttered, shaking her head slightly, not in disbelief but in simple sadness for him.

Jess shrugged dismissively. “But, hey, now she’s gonna get a second try. I’m sure the next one won’t be as much trouble as I was.”

“Hey,” she said firmly, bringing a cold hand to his cheek, stroking his skin affectionately with her thumb, “it was her fucking fault.”

“I know,” he said quietly, suddenly struck by her blunt tenderness. It filled him up, but made his insides flutter. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

“Alright,” she whispered, waiting a moment longer before she dropped her hand back from his face. “But if you do-”

“I know,” he repeated, light to disguise the pit in his stomach.

“Good.”

.   .   .

Bowie played softly on the record player and Ella sat up against the wall behind the bed. She was still in her black cotton dress, though she had let her hair down from its braid, hoping to relieve some of the pressure behind her temples. A dull ache was constant in her lower stomach, occasionally tightening to a sharp burst of pain. Her breath was slow and steady, as she hoped to relax her muscles. She wrote against the thick stack of paper in her lap, only a few essays left. Maybe she could actually get a chance to sleep a sensible amount. She’d been at it since the moment she got upstairs at three in the afternoon, and her eyes were dry and hot in her skull. Rain pattered against the window on her left, the pane fogged up from the cold day.

A creak sounded in the room as the door opened, and she peeked down at her watch. It was nearly six; she hadn’t realized how much time she’d spent sitting in the same position, staring at the endless pages of Times New Roman. Jess walked in with socked feet, a crease of concern between his brows as he strode over to the bed.

“Hey, you almost done?” he asked, sitting down on the end and running his hand up and down the back of her calf.

She bit the inside of her cheek as she finished scribbling a comment on the side of a page. Then, she looked up at him with an exhausted, pale face. “Sort of. I’ve still got a few to go.”

“Why don’t you take a break?” Jess asked. When their work day had ended at five-thirty, he’d come up to find her pouring over the assignments. It was clear she was concentrating hard, and he’d silently come over and placed a kiss on her forehead in greeting before leaving her to her work. The worry had not left him in the hour he’d been sitting on the couch with a Barker novel in his hands and an old sitcom on the TV. “We ordered pizza. Half mushroom.”

A smile formed on her lips, less strained than it had looked all day. Mushroom was her favorite on pizza. “Maybe in a little while. I don’t finish what I need to, and they could definitely replace me with another TA.”

Jess scoffed in disbelief at her unfounded fear. “Where else are they gonna find a Lily Briscoe nihilist who dresses like it’s 1994?”

“Same place they’d find another Kerouac wannabe who knows close-up magic tricks,” she quipped coolly, going back to her work. Her patience was wearing. No matter how much her mind was screaming for a reprieve, she simply needed to finish. Some strong fire burned within her, forcing her to be productive or suffer intense guilt.

He gasped in mock offense. “Low blow, Stevens. The magic phase was not my best, I will admit. But, it was really only to impress a certain waitress.”

“Well, when you talk to her, tell her I think she should raise her standards,” Ella replied, not looking up from the paper.

Jess sighed in frustration, taking his hand from her leg. When she got into her working zone, one he recognized well from high school, it certainly took some effort to get her out. But rarely was she quite so irritated. “You’ve barely eaten anything all day, Eleanor.”

“Didn’t realize I was under surveillance, Jess.”

Rising from the bed again, Jess rolled his eyes. “The pizza’s gonna be here in fifteen minutes. You don’t come out, and I’ll tell Chris how much you hate jazz. You’ll have to face his wrath.”

“I think I can handle him,” Ella said flatly. Still, she didn’t lift her eyes from the writing.

“You’ve been warned,” Jess chagrined, shutting the door behind him gently.

.   .   .

The growling of her stomach ultimately forced her out of the bed, the stack of papers left on the nightstand with the red pen neatly atop it. She decided she didn’t need anymore arguing with Chris for the day. And the hungrier she got, the worse her headache was. Searing pain radiated all the way through her brain, but she tried to quiet it the best she could. She hadn’t experienced a migraine in a long while, but remembered how to power through it. It was better to at least attempt to eat, she decided. She hated the odd dichotomy of the nauseating cramps and the intense hunger.

A smug smirk formed on Jess’s face when she opened the door, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand.

“Oh, look. Judas,” Chris said from his spot in the armchair, still offended from the morning’s Andry Warhol argument.

“Not my fault you can’t handle the truth,” she replied, going over to the fridge and grabbing a ginger ale. She didn’t know whether the ginger ale soothing stomach trick worked with period cramps, but it was worth a shot. She popped it open and took a few sips before placing it on the end table near the windows and flopping down on the weathered green couch next to Jess.

“Your stomach okay?” he asked, an eyebrow raised at her choice of drink.

She shrugged dismissively, her face wan. “I’m fine, Mariano.”

“You sure you’re not pregnant?” Chris teased, glancing at Jess. “Apparently it’s in the water.”

Jess swallowed dryly at the reference to his mother’s news. Both Matthew and Chris had overheard snippets of the phone conversation.

“Believe me, I’m not,” Ella answered, running her hand through her hair and sweeping it over one shoulder. The back of her neck was hot beneath it.

“But how could you know?” Chris continued, a mocking twinkle in his blue eyes.

As she shot him a withering stare, Ella’s lips turned up in a thin, sardonic smile. Her tone was cold and venomous. “One guess. I’m sure it’ll come to you, Einstein.”

After a moment with furrowed brows, realization crossed his features and his eyes widened. Chris blushed and said nothing more. Jess snickered at him and brought an arm around Ella, unphased.

Goosebumps rose on her skin at his touch, as she leaned her head on his shoulder. A slight sigh escaped her lips as she allowed herself to slacken against him, seeing the Frasier rerun playing on the grainy television across from them. Matthew sat on Jess’s other side, working on something which looked like an inventory sheet. She could certainly identify with his workaholic side. He leaned over and told her the pizza would be there any minute. Nodding, she put a hand on her anxious stomach and shut her eyes. She hadn’t felt the fatigue weighing her down fully until she gave into it, suddenly worried she could fall asleep at any moment.

Jess looked down at her, a crease of concern reappearing between his brows. Frowning, he took in her flushed face and placed his hand to her forehead. Though he couldn’t be sure, he thought she seemed feverish. “You feel warm.”

“The heat’s on. Our room is stuffy. I’ve been in there a few hours. Really, cutie, I’m just tired,” she said shortly, not opening her eyes and shifting to get more comfortable. His skin was cool against hers. It wouldn’t have surprised her if she was running a slight temperature. Sleep deprivation and her period both sometimes caused a tiny fever for her separately; it would be less than a shock if together they’d had a bit of an effect.

His eyes lingered on her doubtfully, but a knock then sounded on the door. Jess dug in his pocket with a free hand to find a few crumpled bills, handing them to Matthew, who went to greet the pizza guy. In a few minutes, they were back in their respective spots with grease-splotched paper towels, holding cheap pizza. Matthew and Chris were deep in a debate about the acts to book for the following week, and were throwing around the idea of an open mic night. Jess didn’t have much to say on the matter, instead watching as Ella ventured a few bites of her slice and kept her eyes on the TV, trying to ignore his watchful gaze. Not even Luke had ever been so concerned over her well-being, insofar as whether she had something she could potentially spread to customers. Only her mother stuck out as a caregiver in her life, and of course, no time in recent memory. It was just Jess.

“You’re staring, Romeo,” she snapped after a while, realizing he wasn’t going to quit.

“Thought I was a Mercutio?” he asked through a mouthful of pizza.

Scoffing, annoyed, Ella felt the mixture of both hunger and discomfort mingling in her stomach again. “Not tonight. Remember how much Romeo stared?”

“It rings a bell. But I also haven’t read that since ninth grade English.”

“You did reading for school?” she asked doubtfully, snorting a laugh.

He nodded. “I had gold stars plastered all over my forehead.”

“Oh, yeah, I can just picture it,” she said, taking another bite, almost finished with her piece. “Romeo and Juliet sucks anyway.”

“Once again,” he said, shaking his head at her in feigned disappointment, “so blasphemous.”

“And still, you can’t keep your eyes off me.”

He shrugged. “Sad but true.”

She chuckled, about to retort in the easy way she always could, but instead there was a shift in her features. Her freckled cheeks drained completely and tinged to a slight green. Saying nothing, she put the back of a hand to her mouth and she hopped up, rushing towards the bathroom. Not running, but definitely rushing. Her movements were silent but swift as she shut the door behind her with a slam. Chris and Matthew didn’t even notice until the sound rang out in the apartment. Jess sighed heavily, going after her. Pressed up against the door, he could hear her gagging.

“Eleanor?” he asked, knocking.

Knees grounded on the blue tile of the bathroom floor, Ella found she couldn’t reply through her breathless retching, bent over the toilet bowl. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes and her nose began to run.

“I’m coming in,” Jess said resolutely.

Ella would’ve cursed at herself if she’d been able, realizing she had forgotten to lock the door in her race to make it to the toilet. Before she could protest, Jess took her hair in one hand and began rubbing circles on her back with the other. His touch was deliberate and gentle, and almost made her want to cry harder than she already was, her entire body radiating embarrassment.

“Fuck, Jess, get out,” she pleaded through bouts of vomiting. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, I can see that, Linda Blair,” he deadpanned, not moving from his spot.

Eventually, the swirling in her stomach stopped, and her breathing became regular again. She flushed and immediately went to the sink to splash cold water on her face, rinsing her mouth out and brushing her teeth thoroughly. Jess watched carefully from where he sat on the edge of the blue tub. She wiped her face with the hand towel and threw it back down next to the sink in frustration. Her body was strained and tired, and she sat down heavily next to him when she was finished. She brought her elbows to her knees, holding her chin in her hands.

“You okay?” Jess asked, tucking some hair behind her ear to expose her cheek. He pressed the back of his hand against it, noting how hot she still was. The puking probably hadn’t helped, though.

She cleared her throat. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing for you to be sorry over,” he replied lightly. “I mean I’m sorry for getting on you about not eating. I just thought you were working through meals like you used to in high school. I didn’t know you felt sick.”

“I’m not sick, Jess.”

“Eleanor, you were just puking your guts out like two minutes ago,” he said, eyebrows raised. “And I’m pretty sure you have a fever.”

Ella sighed, sniffling though the tears had stopped involuntarily streaming down her cheeks. “When I was a kid, I used to run a temperature when I didn’t sleep enough. And the whole Exorcist routine is because of my period.”

“Really? Usually, you seem like you feel okay when you’re on your period.”

She chuckled. Most of the time, they had sex every night when she was on her period. The hormones were often a pleasant experience in her case. Such bad cramps hadn’t afflicted her since before she’d started the pill at age fifteen, either. “I usually hardly even have cramps. But I got on new birth control this month and stress can also make things way worse. Sleep deprivation, too. I don’t know. The perfect storm.”

His face softened sympathetically. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re insane.”

“Oh, well how could I possibly take that the wrong way?” she quipped through slight laughter.

“You’re working so hard, you’re literally making yourself sick,” he explained. “Not that you’re gonna listen to me, but I really think you should ease up if you don’t wanna have a stroke before you’re thirty.”

Again, she sighed, straightening up and averting her gaze. “I just...if I’m working as hard as I can, I’m not worrying as much about losing my spot in the graduate program.”

“Why would you lose your spot?” he asked, his brow crinkling. Maybe he shouldn’t have laughed her off so easily before.

“I don’t know. I just worry about it. Anything’s possible,” she said.

And he could see her mind was off somewhere other than Philadelphia. It was back in Stars Hollow, on the night when her mother had died and she’d lost everything out of the blue. Pieces fell into place, and all of a sudden he understood. Why she had been staying up late and editing papers more heavily than she needed to and running herself ragged only halfway through the semester. To Eleanor, nothing was permanent, nothing could be counted on. The feeling wasn’t lost on him, considering he had a new fake daddy pretty much every year as a child, but he hadn’t even seen a semblance of stability in his life until moving to Luke’s. He remembered how different it was not having to worry about losing the apartment for unpaid rent or having all of his possessions stolen by some deadbeat his mother had inexplicably allowed into their lives. But Ella had lived in a home that had a least a decent amount of security for fourteen years before the rug was pulled out from under her. That was the difference, and it was an important one.

“Elle?”

“Hm?” She lifted her eyes, slightly glassy, up to his.

“No matter what happens with this grad school thing, or after, anything is not possible with me,” he said in earnest. “Because I was yours the first time I saw you five years ago. At this point, I can say with complete certainty that’s never gonna change.”

Breathing out a long breath through her nose, Ella couldn’t help the smile which bloomed on her face. Before, he’d said he fell in love with her that night in the gazebo. Maybe he had been holding back so he wouldn’t scare her, though the time he’d asked her to run away with him and told her he loved her hadn’t exactly been his most restrained moment. She didn’t know. And, the idea that it had actually been the minute when they’d met all those years ago in the diner was so preposterous in her realist mind, she had to tease him at least a little. “Love at first sight, huh? Time has really made you soft, Mariano. The Hemingway, too.”

“I’m serious, Stevens,” he continued, though a smirk tugged at his own lips. “And, for the record, there’s no way in hell they’re gonna kick you out of that program. They’re lucky you even accepted their offer. Please, just take a fucking sick day tomorrow. Watch Stephen King, and drink green tea, and eat peanut butter out of the jar.”

A moment passed between them, and finally she gave a slow nod. “Fine. But only because you asked so nicely. And because this is the most disgusting I’ve felt since that time I drank my dad’s tequila.”

He chuckled, bringing an arm around her shoulder and pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “Good. By tomorrow night, you’ll feel like one of the living again.”

Leaning into his side again, she was so utterly relieved. A weight she didn’t know she had been carrying lifted from within her. The nerves and the worry weren’t gone, but for the first time, perhaps ever, she truly believed Jess. She trusted him so completely it shocked her. They weren’t the same people they had been when he’d run away to California. But they still fit together exactly right. And it wasn’t going to change. She pulled away from him, placing a hand on the back of his neck and running her fingers through the ends of his hair affectionately.

“I love you.”

For a moment, Jess’s breath caught in his throat and he thought his heart would explode from joy. But, instead, his grin grew more genuine. “That’s nice, but I kinda figured.”

She rolled her eyes, giving his shoulder a playful shove. “Such a jackass.”

“So I’ve heard,” he replied easily, then took her hand in his and squeezed it. “I love you too.”

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[bajajelectricscooter]

Bajaj Chetak compared to its rivals

The Bajaj Chetak electric scooter exists in a premium sphere if we consider the electric two-wheeler space in our country. It is more premium as compared to the Okinawas and the Hero electrics of the electric scooter world. When we talk about its rivals, it has to face competition from the likes of TVS iQube and the Ather 450X. While both Bajaj and TVS are mainstream two-wheeler manufacturers, Ather is a new entrant comparatively but has shown commendable performance and needless to say, its future does look bright and well, electric.

Only the Chetak has the support of an iconic moniker but how does it compare to its rivals? Read more to find out.

Specs and performance

The electric Bajaj Chetak is powered by an electric motor which generates 3.8kW/4.08kW (continuous/peak power) and 16Nm of torque. The IP-67 rated powertrain is fed by a 3kWh Li-ion battery which is also rated for the same level of environmental protection as the motor. The system allows the Bajaj Chetak Electric to hit a top speed of 60 kmph and two riding modes are on offer – Eco and Sport.

On the other hand, the TVS iQube is equipped with a 4.4 kW electric motor which promises to deliver both high power and efficiency with no transmission loss. The scooter has a max speed of 78 kmph and can travel up to 75 kms on a full charge. The Li-ion battery though is non-removable. The urban commuter can accelerate from 0 to 40 kmph in 4.2 seconds.

The Ather 450X scooter is powered with a 6kW PMSM motor, a new 2.9 kWh lithium-ion battery and comes with 4 riding modes. In addition to Eco, Ride and Sport, Ather is introducing a new high-performance mode, ‘Warp’. The 450X goes from 0 – 60 kmph in 6.50 seconds and from 0 – 40 kmph in 3.29 seconds. Where the 450 was powered by a 5.4kW motor which cranked out 20.5 Nm of torque, the one on the Ather 450X takes those numbers to 6kW and 26 Nm. For this new scooter, the company designed a new battery pack which goes from 18.650 form factor to 21,700 cells. The Ather 450X tips the scales at 108 kilos, which is 10 kgs less than the 450. It boasts of a certified range of 116 kilometres on a full charge and the company claims the scooter can cover 85 kilometres in real-world conditions.

Compared to a petrol-powered scooter, Bajaj Chetak Electric specifications are different in terms of power and certain other things. When it comes to charging, the battery is a fixed unit and cannot be removed to be charged separately. It doesn’t support fast charging and via a complimentary home charger and onboard cable, it can be plugged in for 25% power to be recharged in 1 hour. For a full charge, the unit takes approximately 5 hours. For the battery and the scooter, Bajaj offers a 3-year standard warranty.

Looks

When you play around with such an iconic name, the stakes are high. Bajaj played a gamble by reviving the Chetak name because if things would have gone wrong, it would have made the veterans disappointed. But thankfully, that isn’t the case here. The new Chetak draws a lot of inspiration from its old classic version, as it pays homage to its iconic past and sets sail to redefine the future of mobility. The body of the scooter gets simple lines and well-sculpted curves with a whole lot of smooth surfaces woven together for a neat retro-classic, yet modern design. The scooter is available in 6 eye-catching paint schemes and the use of premium materials can be felt throughout the body of the scooter.

There are a lot of modern elements fused with retro throwbacks which make the Chetak worthy of the tag ‘Neo-retro’. When you look at it up front, the round LED headlamps and the sculpted mirror stalks grab your attention while making it clear that this Chetak means business. Just like the horse it is named after and the legacy it has to follow.

With its clean and uncomplicated design, the iQube looks stylish, yet, subtle and functional. The scooter is only available in one colour – striking white. The narrow, horizontal headlight and tail-light look unique and almost Robocop-like. The rest of the design is extremely simple, and it almost feels like TVS has purposely opted to go this route as conventional designs attract buyers of a wider age demographic. We’ve seen the company take a similar approach with its popular 110cc scooter, the Jupiter.

While the Bajaj Chetak looks retro and the TVS iQube looks functional at best, the Ather 450X manages to look the sportiest of the lot. And its collector’s edition, even more so! The sharp lines accompanied with ripped body panels make the Ather 450X look sporty. Ather has particularly designed the 450X to appeal to a younger set of customers. The Bajaj Chetak might appeal to the Gen Z but that ‘might’ becomes an assured yes when it comes to the Ather 450X. We could go as far as saying that at least when it comes to looks, the Ather 450X does manage to take it home.

Features

The Bajaj Chetak Electric scooter comes with an all-digital instrument cluster with a round layout, cementing its retro roots. Although the instrument cluster shows a bucket load of information, it is its connected tech which makes it more modern and comprehensive. Connected technology earlier became a standard proposition in four-wheelers but later on, started dripping down to two-wheelers as well. Almost all the premium electric scooters or even ICE powered scooters now come with connected tech so it would have been a sin, right? If Bajaj missed out on it!

The digital unit is smartphone compatible and you can access it via an app. The app gives you access to navigation, tracking features, vehicle and battery statistics, and safety features – like if there's an alteration in charging, or if the vehicle is moved when locked. The Bajaj Chetak offers a data subscription service and the first year will be free for customers.

Riding modes is another modern feature found on the premium two-wheelers. Even when the vehicle’s performance isn’t astronomical, manufacturers try to bestow their premium products with riding modes to pass on the sense of exclusivity and premium-ness. The Bajaj Chetak too, gets 2 riding modes: Eco mode, which provides a range of 95 kms and a Sports mode, which provides a range of 85 kms on a single charge. 

TVS iQube scooter’s connected features’ list includes Geo-fencing, Remote Battery Charge Status, Navigation Assist, Last park location, Incoming call alerts/SMS alerts among others. Other innovative features include Q-park assist, economy and power mode, day and night display and regenerative braking. The iQube app is available for both Android and Apple phones.

The Ather 450X is offered with a tyre pressure monitoring system and a smart helmet as accessories and smart features include OTA Upgrades, Onboard navigation, In-ride app stats and In-app remote monitoring. Bluetooth for music, calls and voice assistant is only available

[sapphiresea]

Earp-A-Palooza 2019

Okay, so by request, a few of you asked if I could share my experiences again. Below the cut, I’ll go through my weekend at Earp-A-Palooza, but right now I just want to start by saying this was one of the most special experiences of my entire life. I am so unbelievably glad I was able to go and that it worked out. Honestly, it was a true blessing. Also, I don’t get to mention this in here, but the whole weekend, Dom and Kat were calling me by name and I was almost never wearing the badge that actually said my name on it, so they clearly just remembered that I’m Steph. Considering I know I haven’t told Kat my name since at least Expo in June, if even then, that was pretty rad. I think I reminded Dom at EH Con, but she remembered it now, so I’m definitely not complaining! That was a really neat feeling, just to know that I’m known by them. Is that totally dorky? Maybe. But how many people can say that about their faves? And how many faves even bother to remember people’s names the way this cast does with us Earpers? I’m about to say it a dozen times at least, but these people are really special.

My Friday started off in a rush, leaving my apartment at only 5 AM to drop off my apartment keys for my best friend before catching my flight to St. Louis. Customs took a long time to get through, and I felt anxious to get moving. I was tired as hell, only having slept for 45 minutes, but so ready for the con adrenaline to kick in. I had this really strange feeling in my gut. I kept looking around, and it felt like I was crazy. But something was just nagging at me and it was really weird. Except then, at about 7 AM, I turned around in my seat by the gate, and Kat Barrell was walking in.

So there’s that!

Someone tagged her in a reply to a tweet I made and I swear I saw her look around really quickly out of the corner of her eye. I was kind of blocked from her view by a few people, and also it was, again, 7 AM. She also doesn’t know my username since I don’t interact with her online much even though we’ve met in person several times, so she didn’t really know who she was looking for if she did, in fact, see it.

I figured I’d go say hello, but then leave her alone. I also didn’t want to bother her, so I waited until they made the first boarding call. She wasn’t in zone 1, but she put her phone down and wasn’t too busy, so I casually walked over and said, “I don’t want to interrupt, but I just thought I’d come say ‘hi.’” She looked up and recognition clicked and she grinned and greeted me. I kind of hung back in case she wasn’t up to talk but she initiated a conversation and I wasn’t about to turn her down. She asked if I was going to St. Louis for Palooza. I said, “Yeah, it would be kind of weird if I was just here and not going.” She laughed and said, “Maybe you’re going to Indianapolis” (these were the only two gates in our area for a very long stretch). I conceded and said I was going to the con and she asked if a lot of my friends were going. I told her just about all my friends were going and that made her pretty happy to hear. We chatted awhile, not really about anything serious but it was still a good conversation. This was the one time I didn’t mind that boarding was taking ages (seriously, like fifteen minutes). Our plane was also a walk out on the tarmac and so we boarded together in the same zone and before she took her seat, she smiled and said, “See you there!”

I never sleep on planes, but literally everyone on the flight (all twelve of them – we were on the tiniest plane) had crashed. I was way too excited about the weekend, so I mostly just listened to music and played games on my phone.

When we landed, Kat was further up so she was off the plane before me, but she had to stay to get her skycheck luggage. I wasn’t going to be a creep and linger since the bag I had to pick up was over on the baggage carousel across the airport. She waved as I walked by and I said “see you later!” I went to get my things and meet my friend.

I hung out with a few people for awhile before the con and made some really fun new friends who were rooming with a couple of people I knew. I had so many laughs just on the way over to the con hotel that it was really a magical start to the morning. I had been sick earlier in the week and concerned that I would have to sleep a lot in my down time but I felt really great, and I was happy to check in and go right to registration and start meeting up with everyone.

I had told myself to be calm about photos and autos this con and had so many plans to only do 4 photos the whole weekend that literally dissipated as soon as I got there. I bought a Dom and a Kat solo for the very first day and you’ll soon see that over the course of 3 days, 4 photos easily transformed into 11 plus selfies. Oops? Sorry not sorry.

My first photo was with Dom. As I hadn’t planned anything for these extra photos, I basically just winged it with whatever I thought would be cute. She was so energetic when I walked in. She grinned so brightly when she saw me and said it was nice to see me again and complimented my hair. I have always curled my hair for them, but I was lazy getting up at 3:20 AM so I had just straightened it but she really liked it, so maybe I don’t hate my hair straight anymore. I asked if we could sit and lay our heads on each other’s shoulders. Which, of course, meant softly headbutting each other because I didn’t specify and she checked with me what I wanted. I said, “Okay, just put your head on my shoulder?” and we got a super adorable photo. As I was getting up to leave, she started asking how I was and making small conversation and I was so sure I was going to be kicked out, so I made it really quick, but it was a really great interaction.

Kat’s solo photo came next. As I walked in, she was like, “Hey! You made it!” It kind of made me laugh because yeah, I flew in with you boo. But she followed it up with, “I was looking for you! I was going to offer you a ride, but I didn’t find you.” Wow. Okay. So that happened. I’m still kind of bummed I didn’t see her to get that ride – because how cool would that be!? – but also I would’ve had to linger like a weirdo and it would’ve been very awkward for me to wait for her to get her bags and not just look creepy, so it’s not surprising we had lost each other. I thanked her for the thought though, and I’m still really stoked that she was going to do that at all. Really, this cast is the absolute sweetest and so thoughtful. I know a lot of actors and few of them would want to share a ride with a fan, let alone be the ones to offer. I get it, but there’s something very special about Kat and the rest of the Earp cast, you know?

I also had a real time trying to explain to her the photo of her and Dom I wanted to recreate. She had no idea what I meant when I said she was the small spoon in prom pose and she didn’t know what face to make even though I said for her to just smile. She held my hands really tightly though, and the photo turned out amazing. I have no complaints.

Following that, I went for autographs. I had a giveaway and my friend who couldn’t make it to Palooza had asked me to get her Dom and Kat’s autos, so I moved right to that line. I ended up getting in Kat’s line first, and it moved very slowly. She was chatting with everyone, which was actually quite nice. I love when they’re given time to actually have conversations with us. I don’t actually remember the order of what we discussed, to be honest. When I got up, she asked if I had slept on the plane because she had conked out the moment the engine turned on. I shook my head and said I could never sleep on planes. She asked if I was super tired or if the con adrenaline had kicked in. I told her it kicked in some time at the airport and thankfully I wasn’t that tired.

I showed her that I got my tattoo, which she had written for me at EH Con. Since I had decided to wear a t-shirt tucked into my jeans, I had to show it to her on my phone or else I would’ve had to do a weird flash move. She loved it though. I said I knew it was a little ironic to get “everything is temporary” as a tattoo but that it’s something I tell myself constantly. She nodded and said, “The good and the bad, too!” And I just said, “Exactly. It’s a great reminder.” And she loved that I had done matching ones with one of my best friends on my birthday when I got it. She asked if it really hurt and I said it was my most painful and that I kind of wished the words were shorter because I was like, “Please be done soon!” Ribs hurt way more than any of my others. I don’t know how people do intricate designs there. Y’all are superheroes. I said I was also the dummy who got two in one go and she asked about my other one. I told her I got Dom’s butterfly and ended up explaining the significance, which meant she asked me all about the butterfly project, which was a little uncomfortable. I definitely didn’t mean to be like Tragic Backstory Unlocked™ but I was pretty clear that it was a sign of recovery and that I was six years clean. I can’t remember her exact response but it was along the lines of being proud of me. I thanked her and quickly changed topics as she moved to the second signature.

I told her I had gone to see the movie she had recommended on Instagram and she asked which one. I said, “Last Call,” and she asked what I thought. I told her I liked the story but that I was really amazed by how they had pulled off shooting it, which she agreed with emphatically. I said I was about 20 minutes in before I realized there hadn’t been a cut and that this whole movie was one take, but that listening to the cast and crew describe the process after was really phenomenal. She was so excited I had gone and she thought it was pretty amazing. I also slipped and said I had ducked out of CarmillaCon for a few hours to go and she asked how that was as we were taking our selfie. I replied that it was really great and she said she thought it would be and it sounded really cool.

As I was leaving, she hugged me and said it was great seeing me at the airport and again that she was glad I made it this weekend. So….if I’m having heart palpitations, it’s because Kat Barrell is the biggest sweetheart in the entire world.

I tried to get into Dom’s line and was extremely bummed to find out I couldn’t. Her line was swarmed by people with fast passes and VIPs so it was barely moving, and they cut it well before her time was up. I was super disappointed, but also I’m glad that they’ve been doing that. Dom is often signing very late overtime because she’s too nice to leave and she loves us all too much for that. It’s really good to see cons taking care of her and the rest of the cast, even if I don’t get to see them when I want.

I got into Emily’s line instead. It was pretty busy and I was only getting a selfie, so it was a quick interaction but she was her usual friendly self and gave me a hug and told me it was nice to see me again. She also really loved my t-shirt – which Dom had also commented on at our photo op – because it was a winking Calamity Jane and on the top it said “loves pussy…” and on the bottom, below the cat, says “cats.” They both thought it was hilarious. The design was mine, and the cat was drawn by my lovely friend Catie. You can find it on Redbubble here, if you like it.

That was all I had for the day, so I went out to hang with some Earpers. I chatted with a bunch of them for awhile and went out for dinner before going to the block party. Well, sort of. My roommate and I didn’t want to spend the money for tickets, so we hung out outside with some of our friends who were going in and out and danced around until we went back to our room. And I just want to say here that I met so many new Earpers and got closer with others I haven’t seen much at previous cons. I love this community with my whole entire heart. My favorite people are in this fandom and I wish I could go back and just hug everyone a thousand times.

I was very tired by the time we got back, but my roommate, Autumn, and I still spent awhile dancing around our room and watching the Carmilla movie before bed. It was like 3 AM when we finally went to sleep, which maybe wasn’t the best move since we had to be up at 7 AM the next morning, but it was fun!

I knew the day was busy so I only stuck around for half of the cast panel, and I’ll have to watch the other half on YouTube. I got to see Tim surprise all of us by showing up, though. How cool was that!? Admittedly, some of us thought he might, but that didn’t detract from the moment we heard his voice at all. There were so many screams, and I was stoked. He’s the one cast member I’ve yet to meet and I couldn’t believe I was lucky enough to witness that and to get to see him. He’s such a sweetheart!

I had photo ops first thing but I rearranged to get Melanie’s solo on Sunday so I would have a better chance of getting into the autograph line for Dom. I had a Wayhaught photo that I had planned for ages. I was wearing a blazer and presenting a poster of a study I had generated through R to provide evidence of Wayhaught being the best couple on television. Dom and Kat were both like, “Oh my gosh, what is this!?” when I walked in with it. I introduced Autumn as my research assistant and explained the photo, but they were both trying to read the poster. Autumn pointed out that I had really run this through statistical software and done all the programming for it and I said yeah, it was all mathematically accurate and that even though the data was generated, it’s what I felt was the truth. They loved it, even though Dom added, “I don’t understand a word of this, but it’s so cool!” They were both like, “Wait, so what do you want us to do in this?” because they were too distracted to listen to my instructions and I told them again. It was exactly what I wanted from that photo, to be honest. I love it. 

I really wanted to get Dom’s autos on Saturday since I knew I would have to leave before her session on Sunday. I attempted to get into her line for the early signing but photo ops had run late and the line was huge. Everyone attending Palooza lined up for everything way before they needed to, and that meant it was really hard to get in for much if you had photos. Literally as I got to the front, they cut Dom’s line, so I went for Kat again. I wanted both of them to sign the poster and had forgot it in my room the day before.

Kat tried to read the whole poster again when I brought it up and asked me about it. I explained that I had done it as practice R coding for grad school since I have to do simulations for my thesis. She thought it was really cool. We also talked about my shirt from the day before because she had signed “Nicole loves pussy…cats” on her banner and I commented on that. She said she loved the cat and asked if I had drawn it. I said I did a mock up and sent it to my friend who could actually draw. But she gave me the biggest hug as I left and I don’t even remember if she said anything after that, to be honest, besides goodbye. I was floating a bit.

Unfortunately, in order to get Dom’s autograph, I had to sell my meet and greet with Varun. I was super bummed, but I’m Dom and Kat trash. They’re the reason I go to these cons. And I really needed to get her to sign not only the poster but the autographs for others. I ended up lining up right after I left Kat, even though it was three hours early. Even then, I was not the front of the line, so that tells you how lines were at this con. (It was really chill in every other aspect, though.) I had two photo ops between then and the auto time, so I ended up having a chain of people saving my space in line and like…thank goodness for them, really. I am so grateful. I think I thanked them like three hundred times because it worked.

But first, my photos. I had a solo with Kat next. I shared it with my friend Vanessa, who was dressed as season 3 Nicole. I was wearing another shirt I designed to copy Nicole’s unicorn tee and had specially made, so I was in a very light ‘casual Nicole’ cosplay. We decided to fight over Kat and she was adorable. We also ended up in behind the scenes videos on Instagram and twitter, so that was cool. (There’s also a BTS shot of her signing my poster!)

Next up was another solo with Dom, and for that I just asked for her to be forehead-to-forehead with me. It’s so cute I don’t think I’ll ever have another profile photo (just jokes – I have a special Christmas one with her and you know I’m too trash not to cycle through photo ops on a loop with her and Kat until I see them again). But I do really love it. As I left, she said, “Thanks Steph!” and I skipped out.

I was stoked to be able to get into Dom’s autograph line at last and it felt like I was able to breathe because I really, really wanted to see her. Honestly that had been my main draw to come, and I know I’ve been very fortunate to meet her previously, but I didn’t want to let anyone down by not getting her auto and I didn’t want to miss actually getting to speak with her!

When I got up to her, she was a bit busy but that was fine because I still had to fish out everything I needed her to sign. Unlike other cons where autos have been capped at 2, I was able to get all three things I needed! Bless. She apologized for the distraction and I said it was no problem at all.

I talked with her about my tattoo of her butterfly first. Normally I like to ask if it’s okay to get someone’s writing before I jump in and do it, but I hadn’t been able to ask her first. I told her I got it and she thought it was wonderful and asked to see it, so I turned around and lifted my hair and she moved my collar to see it and said it was beautiful. I explained to her why it was so important to me and she also asked about the project and said that was really beautiful and she loved it. She was so sweet and wonderful, really.

Again, though, I didn’t want to linger on that topic. I like to make it clear that it’s healing and recovery, not current struggling. So I told her about how my school doesn’t allow plastic bottles and really promotes reusable bottles and how I loved that they did that. Of course, she dug that initiative.

She got to the poster finally to sign it and I just blushed and said it was the dorkiest thing I had ever done. She said that was awesome and that it was good to be dorky. I said I just wanted to make studying more fun and that was the result. She signed, “Nerdy is beautiful,” on the poster. We took our selfie and I asked if I could give her a hug, to which she replied, “Of course!” I thanked her and she said, “Goodbye angel!” as I left. My friend Autumn was there the whole time and she calls me angel, so she was teasing about how that’s her nickname.

Following that, I attended the Men of Purgatory panel and just relaxed a bit with my friends. After the con ended for the day, we went to meet another friend while she was getting dinner….and she had been seated right next to Dom, Varun, Justin, and Tim. So wow. We didn’t bother them, of course, but as they were leaving, Dom saw us and waved and said “hi” and told us to have a great night. They were on their way to the concert, I guess! We waited for our friends to finish eating and then went to the lip sync battle, which was really fun. Kevin was in a wedding dress, Bonnie performed to Melissa Etheridge, and Allison did a baller dance to Chicago. I couldn’t help but dance along. I was kind of losing my voice, though, so I didn’t want to stay for karaoke and neither did my friends, so we called it early.

Sunday was busy but much less hectic overall. It started with the Wayhaught panel, which was so cute. You can all thank Nessa for Kat wearing that Stetson, by the way. She’s the same one who gave it to her at EH Con for the Newlywed panel. Anyway my gay really shone and I had so much fun. I can’t wait for that to be released for everyone (and for me to re-watch!). 

Next, I had photos with Tim. Having never met him, I asked for a simple hug. He was so soft spoken and sweet. We didn’t talk much, since it was just a photo, but he’s a very kind man and I was thrilled to meet him! Now I’ve met the whole of the main cast and most of the big guests. And they’ve all been wonderful!

Next was Wayhaught. My friend Catie and I did a joint photo following up on one we had gotten at Expo where Kat kissed my cheek and Dom kissed hers. We switched this time. She asked me if I thought we’d look less like useless gays and I just said, “No.” Spoiler? We didn’t. Dom really did kiss my cheek and that’s never going to get old.

I stayed behind because I had a second Wayhaught duo just by myself but Dom knew that and Kat didn’t, so she started dancing around away from us and Dom was like, “Uh, Kat?” And she turned back and I grinned and said, “I have another one,” and she laughed and apologized but I told her I didn’t mind. I just asked them to do princess face because, like so many others, I hadn’t thought ahead. Oops? I ain’t mad about the result, though!

Two of my friends saved us places in line for the Ladies of Purgatory panel, so I went to that next and loved it. I’m not writing much about panels only because they’ll all be online. But oof. Good content. A lot of tears, though. 

I left a couple of minutes early to get into line for photos with Mel and Kat. Their photos overlapped, so I asked where to go. They said, “Get in line 12 for Kat first.” Except when they brought up line 12, we were taken to Mel. So I got Mel’s photo instead. It was simple, but at previous cons I’ve never had a solo op with her and at EH Con, she commented along the lines of feeling neglected because I was always doing ops where I was swooning over Dom or Kat. I love Melanie so much, and I went up and just said, “I feel like I never get to tell you how much I love you, so I was wondering if we could just hold each other for a minute.” She was so soft and just said, “Aw, of course! You’re so sweet! Come here!”

I ran out to get my photo with Kat and asked her if we could hold hands. She took both my hands and I rested my head on her shoulder. She held my hand even as the op ended and gave it a few squeezes and said again how glad she was to see me and said, “Goodbye darling!” as I left. I’m soft. Every time I see this photo, my heart skips another beat because I think about how incredible it was to see Kat in particular this weekend. She really does have my whole heart. What an amazing woman.

My last photo op was an impulse buy (like as if most of this weekend wasn’t impulse purchases?). Autumn, Sakari and I did an Earp sisters duo with Mel and Dom and asked them to feign fighting. Dom initially went into a stance with her fists up and then Mel did…whatever you call this and Dom reached for her leg. I’m totally laughing in this because I’m not an actor and I was like, “What the heck, Melanie?”

Autumn and I had to rush out from the con then, sadly, because the latest flights we could get out of St. Louis were at 5:45 PM and we needed to get to the airport. I didn’t even get to say goodbye to most of my friends, which sucks, but it was better to miss a few hours at the end than to miss the whole con.

Honestly, I know I say this every time, but the warmth in my heart after every Earper convention is unmatched. The cast, the beautiful friends both old and new… I can’t say how much it means to me. I don’t have post-con depression, I just straight up miss my people. And I am, more than anything, so grateful to have been blessed with these experiences over the past year. I am so fortunate and so grateful for all of it. Especially to Dom and Kat for their genuine, soft, and kind words, putting me at ease and making me feel so special and seen, and to all my friends who are now some of the most important people in my life for being my backbone and making me feel more confident and accepted… I can never thank you all enough. Con season is almost over so I won’t get to do this again until next year – although I’ll definitely be visiting my friends in the interim – but gosh, I cannot wait. These memories will carry me through not just until then, but for the rest of my life.

[hearthfeuillemort]

The Twelve Days of Yule! - The Wild Hunt

Season’s greetings, fellow pagans!

This is the second of my series on the Twelve Days of Yule for those of us who are going to try to observe all twelve days this year! Of course, most of us can’t celebrate all twelve days, and that’s totally fine! There's no wrong way to celebrate Yule!

The second night of Yule is referred to as The Wild Hunt or the Wild Ride, and this tradition comes down to us from the early Germanic and Viking Age heathens.  The legend states that the All-Father, the god Odin, began leading the Wild Hunt - a host of supernatural entities such as elves, ghosts, creatures from the Underworld and other spirits - and that the Hunt was followed by storms, lightning, hail, and other rather unpleasant phenomena. This ride was said to begin on Winter Nights (a day we recognize today as Halloween, but to pagans and heathens represented the final harvest and the beginning of the new year). Those of us familiar with the deity Odin recognize that not only did he represent the quest for knowledge and wisdom, but he also was a god of war, death, and sacrifice.

The belief holds that at Winter Nights, Odin assumed his death-god guise and the role of Hunter. Because Winter Nights symbolized the beginning of winter, the borders between the mundane and supernatural worlds were so thin that spirits found themselves wandering around in our realm. Elves, dwarves, trolls, and other supernatural entities were also said to be able to wander the land.  Leading his supernatural host through the nights, it was said that Odin would harvest any lost souls (or foolish mortals) that lay in their path, who would then join the Ride themselves. Legends say that to witness the Wild Hunt was to see a portent of war and destruction.

Cheery, no?  So what exactly does any of this have to do with Yule?

Well, Viking Age people actually referred to all of their deities as “yule-beings”; also, one of the many names of Odin was Jólnir meaning “the yule one”. It is supposed that in this form, Odin is probably the basis of the modern Santa Claus myth!

The tradition goes that on the second night of Yule, the Wild Hunt is at its height and the host of Yule Riders was at its largest. It was said that anyone caught outside at midnight on the night of the Winter Solstice would be swept up by the host. The avoidance of this catastrophe is the basis for the observances of this day: to show gratitude for hearth and home, and to make offerings to and remembrance of our ancestors.  It was thought that to include one’s ancestors in Yuletide celebrations on this night was to assure that their spirits would not wander about in the wild and be harvested by Odin and his Yule Riders.

Traditionally, celebrations of the Wild Hunt were, well, pretty raucous: loud, boisterous singing, lots of drinking, and rich food.  Places were set at the table for ancestor spirits to lure them away from the outdoors and out of the path of the Hunt, and tales were told of their lives.  Even if you don’t consider yourself heathen, this is an excellent theme for observing the second night of Yule!   

This year the second night falls on a Sunday, so most of us probably can’t party like Vikings! Instead, consider a low-key observance like setting up an ancestor altar with photos and mementos of your passed loved ones. Make offerings to them of cookies, cakes, and candy.  Set a place at the table and serve them a meal to make them feel welcome in your home, and keep them out of the path of The Hunt. Talk about these passed loved ones, and share stories about their lives and what they still mean to you.  Joyously celebrate the holidays with them and raise a glass in their honor.

This is also a night of gratitude and thanksgiving, so take stock of all the blessings of your life.  This is a day to celebrate the home, so make offerings to your household spirits and thank them for all they’ve done for you throughout the year.  One custom I have on this day is to clean the house from top to bottom before sundown, blessing and cleansing each room as I go.

Also consider leaving offerings of food outside your home for Odin and his Yule Riders, to appease them and to bring peace and prosperity to your home and family.

I would love for you to send me an Ask and share your own Wild Hunt traditions, or any neat ideas you have about rituals and observances.

Glad yuletide, and hail!

[wheremytwinwatches]

[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 6

Road Trip! Since the Elric’s need repairs (mostly Ed, since normally I think he could fix most anything with his Alchemy, but without his arm he can’t do it), they’re off to visit Winry. Let’s get started!

Narrator’s talking about how Scar went after Ed, and how our little baby was ready to accept death (cue heartbreaking shot of Al struggling to get up and stop him), but Colonel Roy Mustang intervened (or rather, Riza saved the Colonel's life and The Mighty Armstrong distracted Scar). The Elric Brothers realized the joy of being alive and were filled with Determination and decide to head home for a patch job. Episode 06: “Road of Hope” About time we had an optimistic episode, these last few have been depressing as all getout. Camera pans over a train-station (what, no [chugga chugga choo choo] caption? You disappoint me, show), Hughes raps on the window to Ed’s car to get his attention. The rest of Eastern Command were tied up with work, so the Lt. Colonel came by in their place. Ed’s grateful, but- YESSSSSSSSS! The post-credits didn’t lie, The Mighty Major Armstrong is indeed “sharing” a bench with Ed. And may I say that the man cleans up nice, that is a snazzy suit. Hughes says that The Mighty Armstrong’s there for protection, in case Scar comes after him again. Ed’s in no shape to fight, and hey that’s a nice touch, showing Ed’s empty sleeve wave around when he takes offense at being called a child. Speaking of, where’s the little brother? Oh. Oh my Leto. You stuck him in a box with the sheep?! Why?! Ok ok, maybe a half-wrecked suit of armor wouldn’t really fit in among the other passengers. But sticking him with livestock? Really? “I thought he might get lonely without a little company. *sparkle*” ...you are just the most peculiar mix of sense and cluelessness, aren’t you Armstrong? I mean, you’re not wrong, but still. Sheep, dude. One final salute between the three, and the train’s off. Away through the picturesque landscape we go, Armstrong reading while Ed takes a nap. The train makes a stop, Ed’s just starting to wake up when Armstrong notices someone walk by the train and crushes Ed in getting out the window. A Doctor Marcoh? Marcoh… does not look very happy to see Armstrong, goes sprinting away. Look, I know the guy can be a bit bombastic sometimes, that’s a bit of an overreaction. Armstrong says that he’s a talented State Alchemist from Central, who was researching into possible medical applications of Alchemy. But after the Ishvalan Civil War, he went missing? Like, he defected, or retired? Ed insists on disembarking, as a doctor might know some useful things about bio-alchemy. Fingers crossed it doesn’t end up like the last bio-alchemist they visited. The State Alchemists are in the city now, seems Armstrong’s the one carting around Al In A Box. They’re looking for Marcoh by showing a picture of the man, one that Armstrong drew? I’m as surprised as Ed that Armstrong’s such a good artist. Strong, a skilled Alchemist, reader, and now an artist? Is there nothing that The Mighty Armstrong cannot do? Ah, of course, “the art of portraiture has been passed down through the Armstrong family for generations.” The townsman they’re questioning says it looks like a Dr. Mauro to him. All the town’s previous doctors got drafted for the Civil War, but afterwards Dr. Mauro came. Further interviews with the townsfolk are all positive, about how he’ll see anyone and heal them with a big flash of light. Sounds like alchemy to me. Ed and Armstrong (and Al, he’s been pretty quiet so far) arrive at a house, Ed goes to knock on the door- What the Leto, dude?! Ed just opened the door, and Marcoh shot at him! He stands there with gun shaking, ranting that he won’t go back, that they’re here to silence him. Armstrong tries to calm him down. Then when that doesn’t work he flattens him with Al’s crate, to Ed’s displeasure. Now the four are sitting around a table, Armstrong’s talking about how when Marcoh left he took top-secret material with him. So he did defect? Marcoh says he couldn't handle it anymore, order or no order to “dirty his hands researching that thing”... What “thing”? Ed has the same question. The Philosopher’s Stone! Houston, we have confirmation that it exists! Marcoh took his research documents, and the stone itself. Does he have it?! Uh, dude? That’s a vial of liquid. You understand the difference between a solid and a liquid, right? Oh. OH. “The Sage’s Stone, The Grand Elixir. The Celestial Stone. The Red Tincture. The Fifth Element” The Stone is supposed to ‘create’ a liquid that grants eternal life, isn’t it? Along with the whole “lead into gold” thing. Nobody ever said that it was a solid, did they? Marcoh’s saying that just as the Stone has many names (Ed, don’t poke it! That’s a highly powerful substance!) it can take on many forms. But it’s not a complete product? Ah, so this liquid is an imperfect Stone, amplifying power but still having a limit. Like Cornello’s Stone, able to amplify his power but still fracturing in the end. Ed seizes on this knowledge, demanding access to the research materials. Marcoh is taken aback, and further shocked when Armstrong explains that his “child” is a State Alchemist. He tries to explain how many State Alchemists turned in their certifications after the War, and now a child… Ed insists that he has no choice, that if it’s a mistake then it’s a mistake that he has to make. Now the doctor’s examining Al, remarking how incredible it was that Ed could transmute Al’s soul. Maybe Ed does have the skills to produce a complete Stone. But still, Marcoh refuses to show his research and continue the Devil’s research. Not even Ed exclaiming that he’s already been through Hell can change the doc’s mind, who finally asks them to leave. Sad faces all around, the three SA’s walking away while Marcoh sits on a bed and thinks over Ed’s last words. At the train station waiting for their ride, Armstrong asks why Ed didn’t take the Stone from the doc, even if it was incomplete. Ed says he wanted it, but he and Al agree that they don’t want it badly enough to deprive the town of their only doctor. Aw, they’ve still got their empathy! And hey, we know now that it’s possible to make different forms of the Stone, the Elrics’ possibilities have expanded considerably. At least some good’s come out of this. And Armstrong’s not going to report back to Central? “I met a simple, small-town doctor today. I can’t see any real reason to report that.” Good for you, Armstrong! Oh hey, Marcoh’s here! And he’s handing over a map to his materials? This day keeps getting better! Doc wishes them luck, hoping that they will be able to restore their bodies. ...ok, what’s the catch? Way too much is going right for our characters. Is Marcoh secretly evil, setting up an ambush with the Goths? Did he already destroy his research out of guilt from the War? Will they find it, only to decipher a recipe for Ovaltine? What’s the catch? According to the note, the research is stored in the National Central Library. That’s not a bad place, one book in what I assume is a huge library would be difficult. But they have a clue now! Marcoh gets home, sighs- aw crap! Lust! I was kidding about a Goth ambush earlier, don’t tell me he actually is working for them! Well. I’m guessing this is the last we’ll see of the poor doctor. Sorry buddy! Now we’re at a familiar house, Automail sign out front. Granny, who I guess is actually Pinako based on the captions but I’ll keep calling Granny, calls for Winry who’s working away at a desk. At a mention of their “best customer”, Winry looks up. Outside, Ed and Al are greeting Granny, who just asks what they’ve done now. A common occurrence, this? Ed introduces the Major as- hey, the dog has an Automail left leg! That’s a neat touch! Armstrong’s shaking hands with Granny, then she steps back and remarks that it’s been a while, but Ed’s gone and grown- smaller. Hah! Still getting in the height jokes, eh Granny? But why would she say something so clearly untrue? Ed starts shouting-

Seems like Ed needs to work on the Five D’s. Here’s Winry! Yelling about how Ed’s supposed to call first when he’s heading back for maintenance. Hey Winry, looking good! Still got the aim from Episode 2 I see. She’s happy to see Ed again, even as Ed grouses about his head.

Uh oh, Winry is no longer happy when she sees the damage to her work. “A little smashed up” is a bit of an understatement, Ed. Winry is shaking in fury over her creation- wow, really Ed? “It’s basically the same; it’s just in smaller pieces.” Yeah, like you’ll be if you don’t stop antagonizing your mechanic, Ed! Winry gives that line the only response she can, and while Ed groans on the floor she asks Al how he’s doing, what trouble they’ve gotten into. Then she goes and kicks the Giant Suit of Armor in the helmet, sending Al down with Ed. Yeah, I gotta agree with you Armstrong. Best to sit quietly and drink your coffee. Granny’s checking Ed over, seems he needs adjustments to his leg too. Cue height teasing from Winry. But the arm’s busted, that’ll have to be built from scratch. Ed asks if it can be done in a week, Granny asks for him to give them some credit, says three days. Three days to build a new mechanical arm? I like this setting! Until then, Ed’ll make do with a spare leg. Winry gripes a little bit about this taking three all-nighters, but says since they need to get to Central ASAP she’ll work her butt off for them! (Aw, Ed’s blushing!) She does expect a fortune in rush order fees. Outside- well, Armstrong appears to subscribe to the Steve Rogers School of Log Splitting.

And we are treated to some magnificent shots of Armstrong at work as Al sits quietly, watching chickens. Taking the wood inside (come on Granny, turn around. You don’t know what you’re missing!), Armstrong asks where Ed’s hanging, seems he’s gone to visit Mama Elric. Shots of peaceful village music and shepherds waving to Ed, as Granny asks the Major what kind of lives the brothers are living. Aw, you guys don’t even send them letters? Come on, stay in better touch with the Rockbells! Armstrong remarks how Ed and Al are well known for their Alchemy, even in Central. And sometimes that gets them in trouble. But they’re strong boys, and Granny agrees. Awwww! It’s a picture of the Baby Blonds! Baby Winry’s dragging a surprised Al and begrudging Ed in for a picture, a smiling Mama Elric and stoic Granny behind them. That’s adorable. Granny goes on to explain to Armstrong that she’s been watching them ever since they were born, as a friend of the family. Their absent father was even a drinking pal of hers! But one day he “up and left the village, abandoning his wife and sons.” Why? Granny doesn’t even know if he’s still alive. (Mysterious Father continues to be Mysterious. And there’s the picture of the Elric family, the dad’s face covered up. Rude.) Then Armstrong asks about Winry’s parents. Ah, so this is how it was done in the manga? We know from Brotherhood’s second episode that they died in the war, but I guess this is when Armstrong learns as the audience surrogate. We do learn that they both were surgeons. Granny mentions that it’s time for supper, overrides Armstrong’s polite refusal by saying that food tastes better with guests, and adding one more person won’t be any inconvenience. Then Armstrong asks about the house that the Elrics grew up in. It’s gone, since- wait, they burned it down? “My guess is they did it because with no house to come home to, there could be no turning back.” Later that night, Ed gets back- GAH! Emotional Armstrong! Moved by the tale of the Elric Brothers, The Mighty Armstrong embraces the poor boy, who struggles to escape as Al, Granny, and Winry look on. “What unyielding love to try and bring your mother back to life! *sparkle* What a tremendous sacrifice to give up your arm in order to transmute your brother’s disembodied soul! *sparkle* What determination to burn down your own house…! To make sure… there was no retreat! *sparkle sparkle sparkle* Come Edward! *strip* Allow me to offer you this comforting embrace!” “Just stay back! Don’t rub your chest on me!” ...stay awesome, Armstrong. Next morning Ed stumbles out of bed to a buzzing sound, sees Winry working away at her table. Ed heads over and compliments her working so hard in the morning- “Been up all night.” Later, heads over saying she must be almost do- “One more all nighter.” Next day, Ed skulks up, looks around curiously until Winry gets fed up and tosses him out. Al, Ed, and Robo-Dog are all outside resting on the grass, Al counseling Ed to be patient while the older brother waves his arm and legs in frustration at knowing there’s a clue out there. Then winry comes out, new arm all ready to go! Inside, Ed’s grimacing while Winry and Granny count down, grits his teeth when the new limbs are attached. Guess it’s painful for the nerves to connect like that. Ed’ll be happy to kiss that pain goodbye when they get the Philosopher’s Stone, Granny says she’ll be sad to lose her biggest source of income. Meanwhile Winry… has an Armstrong Moment over the perfection of her automail. “Crazy gearhead.” “You’re lost without me, alchemy freak.” Mechanical Engineering versus Chemical Engineering! Fight! Ed does some flexes, as Winry talks about how she used a higher percentage of chrome to prevent rusting. Nice, functional and decorative! Although it won’t be quite as strong, so he shouldn’t do anything too crazy- too late Winry, he’s already out the door to fix Al. Armstrong’s asking if Ed can really fix Al right there, Ed says he can do it, but he has to be sure not to mess up the symbol inside the armor that binds Al to it. One hand-clap later, and the Giant Fanged Suit of Armor is good as new! The brothers have a little practice spar, and agree to leave for Central first thing the next day. That night, Ed’s snoring away on the couch, Al griping that he’s sleeping with his stomach out again. Granny jokes that Al’s the older one, to which he just says that someone has to look out for Ed. Winry brings a blanket over, and we get established ages of fourteen for Al and fifteen for Ed. Man, how long has Al been trapped in that armor? So much of his life, stuck in metal. Winry remarks that someone as young and small as Al… can be used as a human weapon. Winry, that’s not funny! That’s depressing! I thought I told you to be funny again, show! Now Al’s formally thanking Winry and Granny, always welcoming them like they’re really family. And Ed may not say it, but he feels the same way. “Granny… Winry… thank you.” Yup, right there with you, Armstrong. Right in the feels. Ed and Al are heading out now, Granny’s there to see them off. Winry’s not, since she’s stayed up three nights in a row. Now that’s dedication to your craft. The State Alchemists make to leave, Granny tells the boys to come back for dinner sometime, and Sleepy Winry waves goodbye from the balcony. Ed turns away and rubs his head before waving back. Say goodbye to Winry directly, you fool! Eh, whatever. I’ll badger him about my ship later. Credits! Aw, that was a sweet episode, nice respite from the downers of the last few. I mean, it wasn’t completely sunshine, I’m pretty sure that Marcoh won’t be making another appearance and we had to revisit the absence of Papa Elric and Winry’s parents. But overall, very nice. And you’ll never hear me complain about more Armstrong. Next time! Wait, nevermind. Back to Sleepy Winry walking down the stairs, complaining that she slept through almost the entire day and now she needs to clean up after human-tornado Ed. Then she finds a screw? “Whoopsy?” Uh oh. Don’t tell me Ed’s gonna lose his arm again next episode? You do realize he’s getting into combat, right? Or does she? I mean, they don’t tell the Rockbells what they’re up to. Now, Next time! “Doctor Marcoh’s notes on the Philosopher’s Stone were indeed in the place he said. But nothing is ever that easy. Unfortunately for the Elrics the Enemy is always one step ahead, leading the boys ever deeper into the maze of “truth within the truth.” Next time, on Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood-” Episode 07: “Hidden Truths.” “The only way to reach the destination is to never turn away.”