#that would have been well within the bounds of the show's sense of humor

[cishetseymourkrelborn]

I'm currently rewatching HIMYM and the fact that Robin and Barney aren't gonna last is making this way more painful than it would be otherwise. They were such a good match. How I Met Your Father should have had the balls to get them back together istg

[nitewrighter]

The recent fad of Danny phantom X dc fics doesn’t fill me with contempt like you, just confusion and a sense of “well that’s a thing”, but that might just be that I haven’t been exposed to it as much.

Anywho

Personally I think Steven universe would fit better. A few ideas-

In this fused Steven dc universe, first what I think would be logical

1. Steven and Clark bonding over dealing with their different alien heritage and powers

2. Steven and the crystal gems interacting with the green lantern characters. A friend told me they thought the gl corps would have a similar relationship to the home world gems to the reach. A fun bit I imagined was peridot antagonizing guy gardener

And what I would personally like-

1. The crystal gems meeting the titans, particularly amethyst hanging with cyborg and beast boy, pearl and Starfire comparing gem and Ramadan space culture, and Steven and raven connecting over emotion based powers

2. Steven being a fan of Wonder Woman, and Connie a fan of the flash

3. Ruby and sapphire double date with Scott and barda

I must look like that "No Fun" Robot at this point because I don't feel a strong urge to crossover SU with DC. Not because of any contempt for it like my contempt for DPxDC, but rather because I like Steven Universe as its own contained thing with its own specific in-universe logic that's simultaneously magical and surreal and familiar. I like that, as we start out, Steven's world is simultaneously tightly-bound and yet remote. The Crystal Gems picked Beach City because it's a very small and out-of-the-way community, and that's shaped Steven's world and the show's overall tone in this very specific way. I like how growing up as a Half-Gem has been incredibly isolating for Steven, but not in a way he's really aware of until he gets older--he's extremely friendly with everyone in his community but doesn't really get a close friend his age until Connie shows up, his wardrobe is all unsold merch from his Dad's stillborn music career, . I like that we start out with the Gems seeming ancient and magical and feeling like they're a part of the earth because we're seeing all these beautiful overgrown ruins, then later finding out "oh, they colonized us and tried to suck the life out of the planet." Crossing that over with DC just... kind of waters the whole thing down, for me.

Like, I can kind of get behind a SU/Gravity Falls Crossover because you have those kind of similar themes of remoteness and having to actively deal with old family drama, but also because they're both pretty close together in terms of humor and tone. And they both have that, "Accessible week-to-week plot, but ultra-high-context overarching plot" thing going on. But in general I'm not leaping at... pretty much any opportunity to link the DC universe with an outside thing, because for me the DC universe is just that big, and has that much going on on its own, or because, on a tonal level, it just doesn't really do anything for me.

I do like some crossover-ish stuff within the DC universe--I like when they take pages out of Cosmic Horror like The Doom That Came to Gotham and the Icthultu episodes of Justice League unlimited, but those are more of a result of the borders of the superhero genre being porous in general.

[mymistakewriting]

Howard 'Chimney' Han headcanons & thoughts

Let me start this post out with a heads up because I'm sure something I say here is going to upset someone. I've seen how divided some of this fandom is on Chimney. NOTHING I SAY HERE SHOULD BE TAKEN AS ME BASHING A CHARACTER. I have several opinions on Chimney. My opinions and feelings on Chimney are VERY complicated and I'll do my best to explain them all.

And now, let me begin with the question posed to me by @happilylovingchaos

Heritage: Because he lost his mother so young and he stayed in the United States instead of returning with his father back to South Korea after her passing, his exposure to his heritage was limited (and rather tainted) despite another family taking him in. Because of this, I'm very sure his feelings towards his heritage is complicated - he's proud of where he comes from, he'll happily answer questions or discuss it if people want to hear it.

I do fully believe he intends to make sure Jee-Yun is aware of and connected with that portion of her heritage, he does still hold it close even if he doesn't feel as connected with it himself. Additionally, I think he uses the language pretty fluidly, kind of like how Eddie occasionally slips in a Spanish word, Chimney slips in a Korean word or phrase when he thinks it matches what he wants to say more. That said, I don't think it's something he uses often.

Other: For all that the show frames Chimney as the funny guy who takes nothing seriously, ESPECIALLY when paired against Hen, I don't think he is. He's not the comic relief, he's not the guy that's always joking around. And I see that misconception a lot in the fandom as well. He definitely uses humor as a coping mechanism, don't get me wrong, but he's usually the one balancing Hen's more wild ideas. He acts as her balance - her savior complex versus his need to stay well within the bounds he's been given because he knows and has seen what can happen if he oversteps those bounds for even a moment. Better read as her savior complex versus his survivor's guilt.

He's not fit to be a full time captain. He did passably well as interim captain in the show, however he has the tendency to focus on the wrong things and he tends to freeze when he's under pressure and asked to make the calls. If he worked on that, he'd make an amazing captain. Personally, I think he should be paramedic in charge for a-shift at some point. He'd thrive in that position. However, to do so would mean he would have to take a step back from the rescue (firefighter) portion of his job to focus more on the medical side and I just can't see him doing that.

He does owe Buck an apology for punching him during the situation with Maddie. But not because it was uncalled for. Yes, he shouldn't have hit Buck because frankly, I'm half sure at the time Buck didn't know where the hell Maddie was, it was just another time that she'd up and ran away like she always did when he was little. However, in the situation? I understand why he did. He shouldn't apologize because oh he hurt Buck and Buck's everyone's favorite - he should apologize because it was a moment of high emotion and they both should have communicated better. He isn't a terrible person for reacting as a worried partner who wasn't being told the truth. It was just a shitty situation. For everyone.

This one is just fun. He's the reason Buck trained Ravi the way he did. Chimney certainly didn't give Buck an easy time during his probationary year, and Buck took that to heart. He's tough enough to handle the job because of how Chimney helped train him in his mind, so of course he paid it forward. I'm pretty sure Chimney got a laugh out of the stories when Hen told him.

Chimney handles being the partner of a domestic abuse victim beautifully. He knows that sometimes, things are going to happen that trigger a memory or reaction that don't make a whole lot of sense. The fact that he's been shown to roll with the punches and let Maddie make the calls on how fast they do something? Beautiful. I adore their relationship SOLELY for Chimney's side of it and how considerate he is of the fact that he hasn't been there, he doesn't understand everything she's been through. But he still tries to make sure she knows she's safe and loved and valued. He is exactly the kind of partner she needed after what she lived through with Doug.

[transformers-fan-continuities]

Spotlight: Ties That Bind

This one’s a doozy folks! If you missed the last spotlight you can go read it here, but strap in for The Ties That Bind, an absolutely brilliant take on humanformers. It’s hosted here at @tiesthatbind-tf​ created by @artsy-hobbitses​!

Q) Give us a run down of your cont! What's it about, what's it called, what's it like?

Ties That Bind is a humanformers-based original continuity which is part Science Fiction and part Alternate History where the invasion of Quintessons and introduction of their technology to Earth in 1920 sets the world and humankind on a completely different trajectory. The active narrative spans a period from 1920 to 2070, covering the First and Second Quintesson Wars, the interplanetary Antillan War (leading to the creation of Unicron on Mars) and the Great War which involves the Autobots, Decepticons and Functionist stalwarts, and how it affects the characters.

The cast is pretty sprawling and the narrative is mostly centred around human drama with bits of humor interspaced and a dash of horror (mostly centred around how the previous government often chose to utilize the technology left behind from the Quintesson Wars to create new systems of oppression, which affected many of the characters, in the name of worldwide rebuilding efforts).

Q) What characters take the lead here? Any personal favorites?

I will admit to this continuity being very much heavy on the relationship between Old Bastards  Optimus Prime and Megatron, which is given considerable weight as they were best friends who had known each other since childhood and were deeply intrinsic to each other’s growths as individuals, which makes it all the worse when guilt and betrayal enter the party. Despite being captains in two corners of this battle, there’s a part of them that just cannot let go of their pasts together and they need to reconcile with how this will affect their agenda (Megatron) and how they lead their team (Optimus) who don’t necessarily share their history.

Other characters with significant development include:

Starscream, a Cold Construct in a toxic working relationship with Megatron with whom he is hiding a dark secret, who struggles to balance the underhanded viciousness he believes he needs to gain power and his innate desire from his Senate days to make the world a better place. 

Windblade, a Camien native who fights her government’s apathy concerning the situation on Earth which they see as unsalvageable compared to their more Utopian society. 

Prowl, a Cold Construct raised from childhood to be a cop in a police state, who finds out that he was brainwashed several times  to ensure his obedience and efficacy as a government asset and is now working to reclaim some semblance of the humanity he was never allowed to feel and figure out how much of him is who he really is and how much is programming.

Hound, a sheltered Beastman who joined the fight to ensure that Beastmen the world over would have the same rights he did in his homeland of Shetland Isle, but is forcefully stripped of his humanity and faced with his animal side during the war and has to relearn what personhood means amid his trauma.

Q) Is there a bigger point to this, like a theme or some catharsis? Or is it just fluffy fun?

God with the amount of time I spent sleepless trying to figure out how the logistics of this or the semantics of that were supposed to work in universe, I cannot for the life of me say it’s fluffy fun, but I can’t exactly say it hasn’t been pretty engaging either!

There’s elements of war being messy for everyone involved where there doesn’t seem to be a clear line between friend and foe at times, but I think for most part it prescribes to  Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s belief that people are inherently good, but are corrupted by the evils of society. Despite its dark themes (Including but not limited to child abuse, torture, illegal experimenation  and brainwashing), love and friendships do prevail, kindness does beget kindness, found families are made, even the smallest actions matter, and things do get better because there are people on both sides who genuinely want to, and strive to make it better.

With Cold Constructs and Beastmen, it also delves heavily into what it means to be human; to have agency and personhood.

There’s also a strong undercurrent of taking responsibility for one’s actions, even if they were made with the best of intentions (Avoidance of this is what eats up Starscream and Megatron from the inside, and what Starscream eventually embraces).

Q) How long have you been working on it?

There’s two answers to this!

I’ve had a Humanformers-related universe going all the way back to 2007 around the time the first Bayformers came out---basically I had a choice between learning to draw cars or draw people (I was an anthro artist back then) and I immediately chose people.

The 2007 draft however had no worldbuilding or connective storylines and was mostly a fun little venture into character design and practice which were actually instrumental to me experimenting and learning how to draw humans properly.

I left the fandom for about a decade and when I came back to it in late 2020 around September via the War for Cybertron series on Netflix, I immediately got hooked on the 2005 IDW comics I missed out on and wanted to get around to updating my old designs as well find a way to translate several of the concepts I wanted to explore in a human sense, so the 2020 update became its own full-fledged original continuity with detailed worldbuilding and history.

You can see the artistic evolution of several characters from their original incarnation below!

Q) It’s incredible to see your artistic improvement too! Give us a behind-the-scenes look! Show us a secret ;))

Say hello to my workspace! I’ve been working exclusively on the Ipad Pro since late 2016, which is fantastic because I can basically whip up concepts and sketches on the go anywhere. Nowhere is too out of bounds to work on TTB!

Also, do enjoy this sneak peek at true!form Rung, whose synthezoid human body took years to perfect.

Q) YESSSSS alright I must admit this is one of my favorite Rungs, and certainly my fave within TTB. Amazing. Phew, anyway. Where did you draw inspiration from? What canons, what other fiction, what parts of real life?

TTB was initially conceived as a faithful retelling of the IDW 2005 narrative before it was transformed into its own continuity and as such, it borrows heavily from concepts and mirrored plot lines introduced in that run! I chose to have the series inspired off it specifically for the amount of history and worldbuilding it introduced to the franchise.

Anime like Gunslinger Girl and Beastars inspired the depictions of Cold Constructs, especially the more harrowing aspects of their upbringing as government assets instead of children, and Beastmen (Beastformers) in TTB.

I haven’t depicted the world itself in my art all too much, but the architecture from Tiger and Bunny, which has sort of a futuristic Art Deco feel to it, is what you’d usually see in major cities. There is an in-universe reason for that---with a Point Of Divergence set in 1920 followed by 25 years (an entire generation) of progress basically being kicked to the curb due to the Quintesson wars, mankind was basically in a time-locked bubble until the end of the wars, and by then their heroes were 1920s-style rebellion leaders, which lead to 1920s fashion (especially among the Manual Working Class---Megatron, Jazz and Optimus all rock 1920s fashion at some point of their lives) and architecture being celebrated and retained as sort of a reminder of how things were before The Invasion. This anime’s background design is also where I adopted the tiered system TTB’s major metropolises are often built on (with each tier being designated to a different working class) from.

The main artistic style itself is a love letter to 90s cartoons, in particular Gargoyles’ deep and drama-driven character narratives and designs as well as The Centurions’ take on body armor logistics.

I also take inspiration, especially armor-wise, from the characters’ given heritage and background. As an example, Hotrod who is depicted as Irish has the flames on his armor done up with Celtic knots. Welsh aristocrat Mirage’s armor bears olden knight-style filigree and has his Autobot logo designed as a coat of arms. Indonesian Soundwave’s armor and Decepticon logo takes cues from Batik and Wayang Kulit while their mask is based off the Barong.

Q) They are absolutely gorgeous! Show off something you're really proud of, a particular favorite part of your cont.

The worldbuilding in general! Most Humanformers I’ve seen tend to treat it like a fun exercise which it is and is definitely valid, but I found myself wanting a full-fledged world to lose myself in and I sought to try and make that world myself by drafting a detailed history and timeline of events which would affect ongoing narratives, having indepth worldbuilding to include almost all societal aspects of the universe and  expanding on the concept of Beastmen and Cold Constructs existing in a human setting.

I’m not so secretly proud of the research and diversity included to make the cast look like the multicultural, globally-based team that they were meant to be instead of being locked to a single region! My original draft from 2007 was, to put it simply, quite culturally monolithic and I wanted to improve on that aspect with TTB.

I’m also proud that I’ve kept to it this far! I’m a notoriously flaky person jumping from one idea/fandom to another and to have kept at this continuity for the better part of ten months is honestly a personal feat.

Art-wise, this scene depicting a young Megatron working alongside Terminus and Impactor (cameo by @weapon-up-wallflower​‘s OC Missit!)  is definitely one of my favorites since it helps build up the world they live in and plays to familial bonds and comfort found in one another despite their less than ideal circumstances.

Q) Everything has come together so beautifully, you absolutely should be proud. What other fan canons do you love and why? Would you like to see them interviewed?

I am dying to hear more from @iscaredspider​’s Sparkpulse continuity! Her designs are MIND-BLOWINGLY GORGEOUS and I want to hear more about what inspired her to work on it!

Also YOU. Yes YOU BLURRITO. LET ME HEAR MORE ABOUT SNAP.

Q) [wails and squirms away in the mortifying ordeal of being known but in a very flattered way] I WILL SOMEDAY I PROMISE aflghsdjg thank you QwQ

Well that was fantastic, Oni, thank you muchly! A magnificent continuity with so much to look forward to! Coming up next is another personal fave of mine, the first inspiration for SNAP, so stick around...

[earthlyyan]

Taming a Cicin (Platonic!Yan! Albedo x Cicin Mage!Reader)

Sorry if Albedo is OOC here, I haven’t written him before and he’s quite a challenge as I have come to realize. 

Warnings: Human Experimentation, taking advantage of amnesia? Drugging. Violence, Needles.

________________________________________________________________

Hot, searing, pain.

Arms outstretched and bound to the table, you waited for the man to return.

‘Patrol the Liyue-Dragonspine boarder’ they said, ‘it would be easy’ they said.  

You had finally grown powerful enough as a Cicin to be trusted with tasks outside of Snezhnaya, and of course you had to be compromised on your first mission outside of your home. You had finally grown useful enough to be placed elsewhere, and they were expecting results. Too bad you were too incompetent to actually complete the job.

Something in the bindings were preventing you from being able to use your abilities. Your delusion had been removed when you lost consciousness. And when you awoke, you were burning. Something foreign was pumping through your body, significantly weakening you. The side effect seemed to be intense pain. Or it could be the other way around, who knows what the man was up to.

You’d seen the man before you were knocked out. He humored you with a fight, but you were easily disarmed and defeated.

His clothing seemed to be that of Mondstadtian origin. Light and flowy, like the anemo god protecting their city. It’s safe to assume he is a knight of Favonius.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

His voice drew you from your contemplative stupor. It was smooth, and calm. During any other circumstance, a voice like his would be a blessing upon your ears.

“What’s going on here? What are you—”

“My name is Albedo.” He said. His footsteps were near silent as he walked towards the table. “I’d ask your name but,” he stood beside you, his face mere inches from your own. His hot breath fanned your face. “I don’t think you’ll be around much longer, so I don’t think bothering with the formalities past this point is important.” He’s going to kill you. Oh archons.

He pulled your delusion from his pocket and brought it up to the light. It didn’t shine in the way a vision would, it was matte, and muddy, like dirty frosted glass. He took it over to a table and scribbled down some notes.

“I already tested its reactions to you while you were unconscious. I wasn’t about to risk you getting the upper hand.” He said, making a show of placing it next to a crafting table.  “I had been trying to get my hands on a delusion for quite some time. But all the other fatui agents and mages had been smarter about spying around here.” He scoffed. “I suppose finding someone daft was key.”

You scowled and tried to defend your wounded ego, but the look he sent you silenced any protests you had the stones to make.

He turned back to the table and began shuffling through cabinets, grabbed a few brightly colored vials, and began working over a crafting table.

“You’re researching delusions?” You cleared your throat. You needed to play nice for now if you wanted to survive. “You could easily just ask me and I’d be happy to—”

“I’ve gotten what I need to know about how they react with the body.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “What I’m researching is… well…” He hummed. “Well, how to figure out how they are assembled. And I highly doubt a lower level Cicin such as yourself would have that sort of information.”

He was right. But your face flushed at the notion.

“So you’re going to kill me?”

“No.” He gave you a quick glance. “Well, I suppose in a way I am. But you’ll still be very much alive.”

“I don’t think I understand.”

“You will.” A small puff of smoke came from the table as he lifted a brightly colored liquid to his lantern. He hummed and squinted at it. “Or you won’t. That’s not my problem.”

You struggled lamely against the restraints. The burning ache in your veins made it harder to protest.

Albedo approached with the vial in his hand. He placed a cold hand to your forehead. It was a welcome relief to the scorching pain within.

“Alright, mage.” He swirled the concoction in his hand. “We can do this one of two ways. Either you open your mouth and drink this and behave yourself, or I hold you down and inject it directly into your blood stream. What will it be?” His indifference with the situation was chilling. Was he even human? Even Il Dottore had some sort of emotion when experimenting on his victims. Sadistic glee, yes. But it was better than cold and calculating. You felt like a butterfly pinned to corkboard.

You wanted to see him make a face. Some sort of small victory before you’re forced to partake in this bright green liquid.

So you spat on him.

The clear saliva slowly dripped down his cheek before he wiped it away with his hand. He gave a disappointed sigh. “Seems I was correct about dealing with a fool.”

His arm was on your bicep in seconds as he pulled a glass syringe out of his coat pocket. He sucked up the fluid from the glass and tapped it a few times before abruptly stabbing you with it.

It was a practiced precision, though somehow aggressive enough to draw blood, the sickly green vile was emptied into your arm.

The burning stopped.

Though something much worse filled its stead.

Your head felt like it was splitting apart, being torn at the seams. You swore your brain was leaking out, staining the table under you, but the dryness of your body proved otherwise.

Albedo pulled out a notepad and pen, he looked expectedly at you.

“How are you feeling?” His voice was impassive.

All you could do was scream. Albedo sighed and scribbled down something on his note pad.

“If you focus on nothing but the pain your suffering will only get worse.” Albedo pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Now, elaborate.”

You tried to conjure thoughts other than the extensive pain encompassing your body, anything at all. You grit your teeth and shut your eyes, concentrating. “Hurts—my head—splitting—”

“Yes?” He walked forward and placed a hand on your forehead. His cold skin against your burning flesh was a welcome distraction.

“Dizzy—Its hard—” “You’re doing much better than I had anticipated. I was under the assumption you wouldn’t be able to hold your mind together enough to speak.”

His hands covered your eyes, soothing more of the blazing pain temporarily. You could feel the edges of your vision darkening. You tried to reach out to the alchemist, but your restrained hand only tugged weakly at the binding, before flopping down unceremoniously.

You saw the man above you sigh as your body slowly began to loose feeling.

*

Bright. It was bright and cold.

There was a chill in the air, you reached to hug yourself for warmth. Coming to realize your body wasn’t sufficiently covered. Nothing but a thin white sheet covering you. Where were you? … Who were you?

You scramble to your knees, bringing them to your chest. You wrapped yourself in the sheet to help keep your warmth close.

“Ah, you’re awake.” A voice startled you, sending you scrambling to cover yourself further with the cloth. “No, no. You’re alright. I’m here to help you.”

“Who are you? Where am I?”

A man with sandy blonde hair entered your frame of vision. He held a bundle of clothes in his hands before placing it gently on the table. He took note of how you trembled more in his presence than had he not made himself known. He lifted his hands in an act of surrender, he wasn’t planning on hurting you.

“My name is Albedo. You are in Dragonspine, a mountain in the country of Mondstadt. I happened to find you in the cold. You were absolutely soaked. I feared you’d freeze to death.”

“Oh…” Your head swam. A thick fog wrapped around it, keeping wandering thoughts at bay. “I don’t—” “Remember much? Your head seemed to have taken significant damage when I had found you. I ran a few tests and it seems you’ve gotten yourself a case of amnesia.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to let you go until I know for a fact that you aren’t a danger to yourself.”

“I don’t know where I’d go.”

“That’s also a problem.”

Albedo smiled at you. Had you known any better you would’ve considered his smile a sinister one. But to the naïve, it was as right as rain.

You didn’t think anything of it when he offered to help you change, your body was still sluggish and you were dreadfully cold. You didn’t think anything of it when he offered you a room, seemingly prepared already, nor did you bat an eye when he would look at you and write things down on his notepad.

Your body would start to ache after a while, a headache creeping up your neck.

“Mister Albedo?” “Just Albedo is fine.” He said. His nose buried in his notes.

“My head is spinning.”

He looked up from his notes, meeting your gaze. “Ah, let’s get you to bed. I’ve got some medicine to take care of that.” He smiled, his hand resting against the small of your back as he led you to the room at the end of the hall.

He tucked you gently under the covers and placed a cold hand on your head. You sighed at the welcome touch. He sighed and walked out, only to return with a small vial of green liquid. He held it to your lips, which you dutifully swallowed. You were out in a matter of moments

He looked at you with a sense of swelling pride. He had done it.

He not only gotten his hand on a delusion, but he also got his hand on a body fit to wield it.

He had tamed a Cicin.

His hand went to caress your cheek, which your body eagerly responded. A smile crept up his face. You were his. His little mage. His little pet project.

[viatagrinner]

Our new beginning. Kagemaru

Key: thoughts, narration, speech

The heroine and Oboro bought dango and return to hideout the Senkitai.

Oboro grinning at MC mischievously:

"But are you sure I'm the one you should've asked to go with you?"

МC: What do you mean?

Oboro: Wouldn't you preferred, say... Kagemaru? He is kind of your boyfriend.

(Is that how the rest of the Senkitai see us?)

МС: Mmm, how should I put it?

If I'm completely honest, my relationship with Kagemaru is still a bit of a mystery to me.

(Somehow we've kissed, but we've never outright admitted how we feel about each other. I just can't tell what that guy is thinking.)

MC: See, he's not exactly my boyfriend…

Oboro: Huh? But Kagemaru himself said you guys are dating.

МС: That was just a tactic to ensure I'd be able to come and go around here without any questions being asked. I mean, there are still Ayakashi who can't stand human coming and going as they please.

Oboro: You sure about that? You really sure?

Oboro pouts, looking dissatisfied.

Oboro: I think you really caught Kagemaru's eye, MC.

MC: What?

Oboro: He's the kind of guy who knows what he wants. If he didn't actually like you, he wouldn't call you 'his girl' even for the sake of a lie.

(You think?)

A feeling of warmth blossoms within my chest.

Oboro: You're a great catch, Airi. You should be more confident in yourself.

Oboro declares, his gaze moving toward my hair: Oh yeah, that ribbon you're wearing is different from the one you usually wear.

MC: Oh, uh. Yeah, I bought it a little while ago.

Oboro: It's really pretty. Now Kagemaru's bound to fall in love with you all over again, huh?

MC: Th-That's not why I bought it!

Half-amused, half-frustrated by Oboro's comments, the two of us arrive at the Senkitai's hideout. We head underground and Oboro begins to lead me toward his room. Along the way, we run into a familiar face.

Oboro: Oh, Kagemaru.

Kagemaru: ......

My eyes meet his and for a second he looks startled.

Kagemaru: "Back again, are ya?"

(Same old, same old. )

Oboro: Huh? Kagemaru! What kind of way to speak to your girlfriend is that? Look, she came all the way over here just to see you---

Mc: A-And that's enough outta you, Oboro! Shall we be on our way?

Hiding my disappointment, I urge Oboro along.

Kagemaru: Oi.

To my shock, Kagemaru grabs my shoulder and pulls me closer to him.

MC: Um?

Kagemaru: .......

We're mere inches apart, his hand reaching toward my cheeks.

(What's going on? In the middle of a hallway? Really?)

His hand brushes past my cheeks and continues to reach for my ribbon, undoing it with a rustle.

Kagemaru: What're ya wearin' somethin' as scruffy as this for?

MC: Come again?

Kagemaru: Yer supposed to be the boss' girl 'round these parts. If yer comin' to see me, ya can at least dress the part.

(What's wrong with my ribbon? Meanie ).

Embarrassed at mistaking his gesture for even a second, I blush red.

Kagemaru: Guess ya don't give me much of a choice. I'll go get---

MC: .......

Filled with a rage I can't quite understand, I push him away as hard as I can.

Kagemaru: !

MC: Sorry, Oboro. I'm going home.

Oboro: W-Wait!

I ignore Oboro's pleas for me to stay and head straight back outside again, leaving them both behind me.

•••••••Flashback•••••••

Several days later.

(Oh, that hairpin is beautiful!)

During a shopping trip in Asakusa, a hairpin on display in front of a store catches my eye.

(It's really stunning. There's something special about it.)

I instinctively draw closer for a better look, the display having caught my full attention.

(They're so pretty and sophisticated. No way anyone would ever call them scruffy.)

•••••Flashback•••••

Kagemaru: Yer supposed to be the boss' girl 'round these parts. If yer comin' to see me, ya can at least dress the part.

•••••End Flashback•••••

(Looks like what he said about me is still on my mind.)

A mixture of frustration and anger welling up inside of me, I bite my lip.

Man: ......

I sense someone approaching my side - out of the corner of my eye it appears to be a man wearing a cap.

Man: ......

(Wait!)

He snatches one of the hairpins and quickly scarpers.

(A thief?!)

Mc: W-Wait!

Bewildered by what I just witnessed, I go to chase after him.

Man: Hey, you're in my way!

Man: !?

A woman adorned in a kimono grabs him by the arm, twisting it.

Man: That hurts!

Yuzuru: My, what a gorgeous hairpin.

Catching a glimpse of the hairpin the man is clinging onto, Yuzuru beams.

Yuzuru: And yet it seems so wasted on a scruffy old pickpocket like you.

Passersby take note of the scene and come to a halt, raising their protests.

Onlooker 1: Hey!

Onlooker 2: You get'em, Ma'am!

(She's so cool!)

Not long afterward, the thief is taken in by the police and dragged away.

Hairpin Shopkeeper: Thanks a million, Yuzuru. That guy's a thief who's been stealing what he can from around here lately. I don't know how many times he's targeted my shop.

Yuzuru: As if I could stand the thought of such a gorgeous hairpin in the hands of a slimy creep like that.

Yuzuru goes to hand back the hairpin, but the shopkeeper shakes her head: No, I want you to have it. Consider it my thanks.

Yuzuru: My! You sure about that?

Hairpin Shopkeeper: It's the least I can offer! Considering what you just did for me.

Yuzuru: …Very well. Don't mind if I do.

Yuzuru thanks the shopkeeper, then turns toward me with a smile on her face.

Yuzuru: .....

Several moments later, I'm leaving the shop with Yuzuru - or rather, Kagemaru dressed as his alter ego.

MC:  Um, are you heading to work?

Yuzuru: Oh, not today. I'm in town to pick up a little rouge for my lips.

(She's a million miles away from Kagemaru!)

(Also, I didn't realize she was still entertaining people as a geisha.)

I'm so shocked by the transformation that I'm practically lost for words.

Bar Goer 1: Hey, you two pretty ladies over there!

Two men call out to us from a nearby stall, raising their drinks at us.

MC: Um. Yuzuru…

Bar Goer 1: Whoa, you two really are something.

Bar Goer 2: What do you say we buy you a drink?

With that, Yuzuru suddenly grabs my arm.

Yuzuru: Read the room, boys.

She pulls me up against her, making sure the two men get a bird's eye view of the situation.

(Whoa!)

Bar Goer 2: Wait! What?

Yuzuru: Can't you tell? We're having plenty of fun just the two of us. And we don't need any men around to interfere.

Bar Goer 1: ...Huh?

Yuzuru: Shall we?

Yuzuru and I pass by the bewildered men, still arm in arm.

(When I first laid eyes on Yuzuru, I was struck by how beautiful she was.)

I can feel my heart start to thump as we walk along together, still pressed right up against one another.

(Yuzuru's the perfect definition of a girl crush. She's so cool and gorgeous you can't help but fall for her!)

(I mean, I know she's really Kagemaru on the inside, but still!)

(I can't even tell if it's Yuzuru or Kagemaru making my heart flutter this much anymore.)

(But I like it.)

(I hope we can stay like this for a bit longer.)

Yuzuru: Sorry about that, Miss.

When the two men are no longer in sight, Yuzuru finally goes to let go of me.

MC: Wait, um!

I keep my arm wrapped around hers and squeeze, not letting her do so.

MС: There's somewhere I'd like to go with you!

I job a finger toward the same Japanese sweets parlor that Oboro and I visited the other day.

Yuzuru: Hah?

Yuzuru: Why'd ya want me to---

For a second, Kagemaru slips back into his usual self, but, conscious of passersby, quickly clams up.

MC: You don't have work today, right? So you can spend some time with me!

I take Yuzuru's hand and start to lead her into the sweets parlor.

We take a seat and I excitedly pour over the menu.

Yuzuru: .....

Yuzuru: …Someone looks like they're having a good time.

(Ah. She might be mad.)

MC: Well, it's not every day a chance like this comes along...

Yuzuru: …I suppose.

At first, there's a slight hint of irritation in Kagemaru's eyes.

Shopkeeper: Here you go!

Yuzuru: Thanks, doll.

Yuzuru aims a dazzling smile at the shopkeeper as they deliver our sweets.

(Yuzuru really is stunning.)

(Boy, girl, it doesn't even matter. That kind of beauty is ethereal.)

I spend an afternoon captivated by Yuzuru's beauty while enjoying the delicious sweets.

By the time we leave the shop, it's already evening.

MC: I had a really great time today. Thanks for humoring me.

Yuzuru: Oi.

I say my thanks, about to leave when Yuzuru grabs me by the arm.

MC: Huh?

Yuzuru: Ya made me go along with that act for long enough. Ya think I'm jus' gonna let ya wander off home by yerself?

(Huh?!)

Yuzuru starts pulling me along surprisingly in the direction of my own house.

(Is she walking me home? Is that it?)

I look up at her from my side and she stops in her tracks. I feel a rustle as she fixes my hairstyle.

MC: What is it?

Yuzuru: Turn around.

I do as I'm told, my back toward her, when I feel her undoing my hair ribbon and running her fingers through my hair.

I feel a rustle as she fixes my hairstyle. She finishes off by adorning my new look with the hairpin she received earlier as thanks.

MC: Oh wow! Thank you so much!

Yuzuru: So ya don't complain when it's Yuzuru, do ya?

I hear the faint click of a tongue and something soft brush my neck. In my shock I turn around.

MC: Um?!

Yuzuru: Ah well. Might work out for the best.

(Was that a kiss just now? And that smile…)

Yuzuru: Yer beloved Yuzuru will have ya trained in no time.

Yuzuru: She'll make ya into exactly the kinda woman fit for the head of the Senkitai.

MC: Train me?

Without giving me a chance to refuse, Yuzuru's face comes closer, her lips against my ear.

Yuzuru: I'll show you how to make the most of your feminine charm.

MC: !

Her voice is so alluring and seductive that I'm already shivering in anticipation.

(I can't let my guard down around Yuzuru anymore than I can Kagemaru…)

I tell myself as heat gathers in my cheeks from how intimately close she's standing…

Afterword:

1. The heroine's pansexuality is proven.

I want to note that MС used the pronoun "she" in relation to Yuzuru, although she knows that this is Kagemaru's alter ego. It's great that a girl accepts her partner as he/she is.

2. It's great that we decided to show Yuzuru. Now I am interested in the attitude of the heroine's father to Yuzuru/Kagemaru.

3. Oboro is the best family psychologist. When a 12-year-old child is better versed in relationships than adults. I think it's time for this boy to start a psychological practice.

4. A little criticism.

The relationship between the heroine and Kagemaru at the very beginning of the story was a little annoying.

I understand that the heroine is 15 years old, that in these years the girl wants romance and showing feelings.

Therefore, there were such phrases and such thoughts:

"(Is that how the rest of the Senkitai see us?) Mc: See, he's not exactly my boyfriend… That was just a tactic to ensure I'd be able to come and go around here without any questions being asked".

The girl doesn't understand that not everyone can or wants to flaunt their feelings.

It is clear that Kagemaru wanted to help, but it looked so toxic. In the role of Yuzuru, Kagemaru is more affectionate and understanding. He could learn from his alter ego how to communicate with young girl. 😄

Yuzuru showed herself better as a partner than Kage.

I hope that in the next sonnet/event, the couple will understand how to communicate with each other.

[doomonfilm]

Review : tick, tick... BOOM! (2021)

Somehow, this past week has found my film world consumed by the presence of Andrew Garfield.  It all started when I invited a friend over for a movie night, and out of the thousands of options available, we landed on Under the Silver Lake.  Cut to my normal rotation of YouTube viewing over the next few days where Vee Infuso, the Corridor Crew, Elvis The Alien and Trin Lovell (among possibly many many more) all did takes urging viewers to reconsider their stances on the two Amazing Spider-Man films, famously anchored by Garfield in the titular role.  All of this would have been enough, but as many of you know, I’m deep in the midst of making sure my 2021 film slate is covered, so naturally, the next film in the queue turned out to be tick, tick... BOOM!, a highly stylized retelling of the Jonathan Larson story, particularly his breakthrough rock monologue that shares the film title and set up the runaway success of Rent. 

If 8 1/2 is on one end of the self-referential, inward fourth wall breaking cinema spectrum, and Adaptation is on the other, then I would say that tick, tick... BOOM! serves as a music-filled median.  The film has self-awareness built into its mix, with actual friends and footage from the Jonathan Larson circle intertwined with identical remake footage featuring Andrew Garfield right from the jump, and with this immersion and integration going wheels up immediately, the illustration of how frustrating and spirit breaking the journey of life-altering inspiration can be is given extra lift due to the presentation style.  The all-to-familiar struggle of the starving artist serves as the engine for tension, with that presence literally becoming personified by a ticking clock that is both a symbolic and on the nose motif, particularly with those familiar of just how brief Larson’s window of success was due to his untimely passing.  Like Rent, tick, tick... BOOM! is a modern presentation of the traditional musical with narrative threads that focus on the perils of romance, writer’s block, personal responsibility and financial responsibility, but unlike Rent, which is meant to appeal to a wide range of people with similar experiences, this story travels outward from deep within the wells of Jonathan Larson’s memory and legacy.

With the current vanguard of music theater Lin-Manuel Miranda in the director’s chair, it’s no surprise that the edgy (in the most positive aspects of the definition) and visceral work of Jonathan Larson is given a bold translation on the screen.  tick, tick... BOOM! contains a collection of some of the most standout film songs I’ve seen in years, with a long list of standout material... 30/90, the super catchy earworm Boho Days, Johnny Can’t Decide, the star-studded and subtle Sunday, the painfully beautiful Therapy, the show-stopping Come To Your Senses, Real Life and Louder Than Words all occupy space and time in the mind long after the final credit has rolled on the film.  Miranda handles tempo and pacing of all elements well, allowing the pendulum to swing freely between dramatic and musical passages, and spending the most time within that middle ground were the elements are braided together.  As a result of allowing these dramatic and music elements to dance with one another without putting limits on their interaction, we are shown many levels and shades of the human interaction, all on a playing field that is bound by joy, humor, depression and frustration.

Cinematography-wise, the camerawork stays deeply intimate and in the face of all parties involved, giving viewers the feeling of living in and sharing spaces with the Bohemian crowd that Larson and company symbolized, which in turn makes our emotional reactions resonate deeper during the on-screen journey.  Much of the film is draped in a 1970s-styled and influenced take on the eve of the 1990s, with different flashes of hopefully and colorful brilliance breaking up the heaviness of the created world.  As mentioned several times prior, there are a menagerie of presentation styles, up to, including but not limited to dramatic swings between old school and modern musicals, reality television (which this project pre-dated in real life), testimonial theater, biopics and so much more.  You can feel the respect, admiration and love for Jonathan Larson in the way that Lin-Manuel Miranda directs, not to mention the same respect, admiration and love for the greater New York theatrical community that allowed Miranda to rise to prominence.  The sound design and editing keep the energy going at a very freeing level, even when we are up to our eyeballs in deeply relatable tension.  Perhaps the most interesting thing about the film is the fact that it is a period picture that doesn’t necessarily announce itself as such, with elements of AIDS, capitalism, the moral majority and their attempts at iron-fist fundamentalist rule, cultural shifts and more all serving as supporting elements for the deeply personal tale.

Andrew Garfield swings for the fences in his portrayal of Jonathan Larson, embracing every aspect of life fulfillment and inspiration chasing that he can while exuding the frustration of chasing the inspiration dragon and trying to balance some semblance of a fruitful relationship and personal responsibilities, and all in the name of producing forward-thinking and joy inducing work... don’t be surprised if you see Garfield pop up in the Best Actor nominations.  Alexandra Shipp (who, as an aside, bears a striking resemblance to Robin Givens at times) plays the romantic foil with the confidence of a deeply focused woman longing for a grand display to shake her world up, all the while exuding shades of unconditional and tough love.  Robin de Jesús shines in his role, managing to keep up with the high bar set by Garfield via an ability to swing between a Bohemian free spirit and a man forced to buy in to the American dream with equal ease, making his story arc one of the more powerful in the film.  Joshua Henry and Vanessa Hudgens both have small dramatic moments where they make the most of the opportunity, but both really come through in the clutch during the performance scenes of the in-film tick, tick... BOOM! show that ties the film together.  Jonathan Marc Sherman and Judith Light embody “stereotypical” aspects of the New York theatrical experience without succumbing to the full-scale caricature realm, while Bradley Whitford really shines in his portrayal of Stephen Sondheim (who himself makes a vocal cameo in the film).  The cast of tick, tick... BOOM! is massive, but other standout appearances include Mj Rodriguez, Ben Levi Ross and the rest of the diner crew, the living legend Tariq Trotter, a couple of hilarious Jelani Alladin moments and, as previously mentioned, a literal who’s who of the New York theatrical royalty in the Sunday number.

Lin-Manuel Miranda ought to be happy this upcoming February, as he will more than likely find himself in competition with himself for songs from In The Heights and tick, tick... BOOM!, putting him in the rare air that has lately been occupied solely by the likes of Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross.  It also makes sense to my why Andrew Garfield has been so adamant about not being a part of the insanity that has been the run up to Spider-Man: No Way Home, as the daunting shadow that surrounds most any Marvel release would draw away from his stellar work in tick, tick... BOOM!, specifically his incredibly touching portrayal of the iconic Jonathan Larson.  All in all, this might be one of the strongest efforts put forth by Netflix as a production studio, and in a year where the musical is clawing its way back into cultural relevancy, this is a bright shining star in a galaxy finding its light.

[rosesloveletters]

As we approach the anniversary of Heath Ledger’s passing, I would like to use my platform to discuss a few things I find increasingly important that we, as fans, keep in mind: Do NOT mock his death. Do NOT harass his family, friends, etc. (don’t ever do this, but especially not this week or the day of.) Do NOT use his death to signify your online presence. Those of us who appreciate this hard-working, loving, giving soul deserve the freedom of expression granted to us, given that we remain within the bounds of positivity, consideration for others and for Heath Ledger himself. 

(image: Heath photographed for The West Australian on June 9th, 2001.)

I implore you to treat everyone with respect and to honor Heath in a way in which you would honor a loved one; be kind, courteous, respectful and tactful whenever you are discussing his passing and remain conscious of others and their feelings regarding this subject. It is a subject of sensitivity for many and I ask that you consider how others might feel when approached with the topic. Do NOT pass around photos of him that the paparazzi took on that fateful day. This is a blatant disregard for Heath and his privacy; He was unable to consent to having those photos taken, for obvious reasons, and I am certain that he would not have consented, given his distaste for the paparazzi and having felt as though his life was ‘on display’. 

Remember to treat him and others with respect. It is the bare minimum of common courtesy when dealing with such a raw topic; Heath would be honored by how most choose to remember him and I think that he would be humbled by the legacy he’s left behind.

On another, more important note, we must to remember a few things regarding the late Heath Ledger: 

He did not die because of his role as The Joker in ‘The Dark Knight’. 

He did NOT die of a suicide. 

Heath was struggling with insomnia, illness, his break-up with Michelle and (presumably) depression (though I don’t believe that was ever officially confirmed) at the time of his passing and we must remember how sensitive a subject this is, for his family, loved ones, friends and fans alike. 

For more factual information on his passing, I recommend visiting these links provided: 

Friends and Family Remember His Final Weeks 

Some important quotes from this article to take into consideration: 

“Gerry Grennell, Ledger’s friend and dialect coach who lived and worked with the star while he was shooting The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus in the final weeks of his life, spoke with PEOPLE in 2017 for a cover story on Ledger, nine years after the actor’s death. He recalled his friend being “exhausted, emotionally and physically” while battling a lingering pneumonia-type illness.”

“Grennell said the star’s mood was low. “He missed his girl, he missed his family, he missed his little girl — he desperately wanted to see her and hold her and play with her,” he added, referring to Ledger’s former girlfriend Michelle Williams and their then-2-year-old daughter, Matilda. “He was desperately unhappy, desperately sad.””

But in his final weeks, Grennell said Ledger knew he was spiraling. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from taking the pills. “He said, ‘I got to stop, it’s not helping, I’m not well, it’s making me feel more upset,’” Grennell continued. “It wasn’t helping with the relationship issues, it wasn’t helping with missing his kid, it wasn’t helping his sleeping — and he knew that.”

“Being such a social guy, having to be a bit of a hermit, or wear hats and glasses was super annoying,” he added, describing the lengths to which Ledger went to avoid the paparazzi. “His happiest I remember was times like when we were in Bondi on the beach catching waves, and nobody really looking his way, and when he moved to Brooklyn and could walk around with nobody bothering him.”

Heath Ledger’s Father Kim Speaks of Son’s Death - Trigger Warning: Kim Ledger mentions seeing EMS removing Heath’s body from his home in new York. This video and its message is EXTREMELY important; if you choose to view no other material listed here, please watch this short interview. 

Statements Made by Heath Ledger’s Sisters

Heath Ledger’s Sisters Clear Up Rumors About His Death In New Documentary

Some important quotes from this article to take into consideration: 

Though the doc doesn't elaborate on the "demons" that plagued Ledger's final days, it does change the narrative about his mental state at that time. According to the actor's family, Ledger's role in The Dark Knight didn't depress him, as so many tabloids had reported. It energized him."It was coming out that he was depressed and it was taking a toll, and we were going, 'What?'" Bell said. "It was the absolute opposite," Kate Ledger added. "He had an amazing sense of humor, and I guess only his close family and friends really knew that. But he was having fun. He wasn’t depressed about The Joker."

That's about as far as the film delves into Ledger's death. Instead, I Am Heath Ledger chooses to focus on his life. It may not be a complete picture of the actor, but after nearly a decade of rampant rumors and tabloid gossip, it's nice to see Heath through his own lens.

Speculation into Heath’s passing has been vast, leaving much to the media to exaggerate and perpetuate; there is very little evidence or proof that lends to the fact that Heath was an ‘addict’ as has been portrayed, however this statement can be found on his Wikipedia page: 

“Ledger was "widely reported to have struggled with substance abuse.” Following Ledger's death, Entertainment Tonight aired video footage from 2006 in which Ledger stated that he "'used to smoke five joints a day for 20 years” and news outlets reported that his drug abuse had prompted Williams to request that he move out of their apartment in Brooklyn. Ledger's publicist asserted that some reportage regarding Ledger and drugs had been inaccurate.”

When discussing his death, please keep in mind that a large portion about his personal life has been over-exaggerated and therefore, research is key.

Heath’s private life is not something we should pry into and we should be respectful of the fact that we simply do not have the information to conclusively determine certain theories. It is among human nature to ask questions and want answers, but it is our responsibility to know what is appropriate and how we should go about researching such a topic. 

Do not pry into Heath’s private life; be mindful of the information you choose to share and treat him as you would treat any other person. Just because he is a “celebrity” does NOT mean that every detail of his life should be public access. Treat him how you would want to be treated; you are not entitled to his private life, nor is anyone other than those he was closest to. 

We have countless interviews and testimonies to his character from family and friends, those of which prove to be the most accurate. 

Check out this video: Famous People Talking About Heath Ledger to hear some of these positive testaments to his character.

Drug abuse is a very serious matter; I do not condone Heath’s decision to abuse prescription drugs, nor should any fan; his death provides a testament to the dangers of prescription pills and we should remember to be mindful of their effect. Prescription drug abuse is a serious matter and we should not overlook the seriousness of it.

If you or someone you know is suffering from Opioid drug abuse, visit the link provided for the CDC’s help and resources

Please remain respectful while researching his passing and use discretion. Information perpetuated by the media has proved time and time again to be harmful to those in the limelight and Heath was a victim of that as well. Respect the fact that we do not know of his private life and accept that we do not have the right to know. There is a large amount of information present, providing speculation into this subject and I advise you to research with caution, as some of it is damaging to Heath’s character. 

Most importantly, use this time to remember Heath for the incredibly gifted and talented soul that he was. As fans, it is important not only to understand his passing, but to keep his legacy alive through the ways in which we choose to honor and remember him. 

Heath Ledger’s death was a tragedy. His family and friends still grieve his passing and his daughter, Matilda, is without a father due to his premature death. Please be respectful and courteous of this and honor Heath in a way in which he would be proud of. 

Thank you for taking the time to read this lengthy post. With much controversy surrounding Ledger’s death, I felt it necessary to speak out on a couple of things, especially with the anniversary of his death coming up. Please feel free to add onto this post any way you would like, especially if you find more information that is factual and important to share within the community.

 I will reiterate: BE RESPECTFUL. BE COURTEOUS. BE KIND. Do NOT harass his family and friends. Do NOT mock his death. Do NOT share offensive/upsetting images or media that is damaging to his character, now or ever. Respect others who choose to use this time simply to remember this wonderful man for all that he was and do not discuss his passing with anyone who might be triggered by the mentioning of it. 

This community is a loving, caring and amazing place where we choose to remember Heath in our own ways and keep his memory alive through the creations and art we all share. Build each other up and listen to one another; treat each other as if you are looking at Heath directly and show the world the same kindness he showed while he was among us. 

Thank you. 

[indianamoonshine]

chapter ii | sundaes and princes

summary: every summer you work on your father’s strawberry farm with your three sisters. it’s a way to take a break from the big city but summers in the midwest are hot and they linger. this year, your father’s old and mysterious friend shows up to stay on your land for a reason yet to be determined. din djarin seems dangerous, but kind enough, and the two of you quickly become…well, let’s fact it…smitten. rating: m (18+) for future and explicit sexual content. author's note: reader is well over eighteen for obvious reasons. i won’t ever go into physical detail about the reader’s appearance because we include everyone. this fic is pretty much a mix between pride & prejudice and call me by your name except without the und*rage crap we do not condone. warnings: drinking, a bit of blood mentioned because of a slight accident.

dinner was loud, as expected, which made it difficult for you to hear the guest sitting beside you.

you'd been zoning out ever since din's eyes met yours from across the table. he'd been kind enough to listen to a woman named dima who was known to be a bit of chatterbox. she meant well, but most of the time she spoke it was about her family or her dog which had a tendency to put anyone sucked into her trap into "rest mode". nevertheless, din listened carefully and nodded when nods were appropriate and smiled when smiles were pertinent. the man was pleasantly charming, grin faint but with affable disposition. it wasn't any wonder when those around him continued to ask questions about himself, to which he answered with vague reserve.

while dinner was entertaining enough, it lagged on more than you'd anticipated. the roast was tender and well seasoned, simmering with heat, and the company praised your culinary skills with hearty acclamation. afterwards, the guests separated into their respectable groups, jubilant conversations echoing about the yard. your sisters were busy amongst their own crowds with faces familiar since childhood, letting out a chorus of laughter whenever someone said something amusing. they were your confidants as well, but you were so distracted by the mess left behind that you couldn't help but start tidying it up.

it wasn't long until madeline set her hand atop your own while you reach for a dirtied plate. she gave you that look she bore when she felt you were doing too much, eyes heavy with exasperation at the idea you'd even considered cleaning at a time like this. you pause and smile feebly at her, a little guilty.

"we can do that later." she takes the plate from your grasp, setting it back down a little more forcibly than you'd like. "enjoy the party. grab a sundae at the bar - it was your idea to set it up."

you glance at the setup near the house. an ice cream station with dozens of toppings and syrups beckoned you temptingly.

you sigh and pat her hand. "alright," you murmur in defeat. "do you want one?"

"sure, i'll take one." she links her arm within yours and places a kiss on your cheek.

the two of you go a little crazy with the ice cream. you've piled it high with chocolate and vanilla scoops, decorating it with colorful sprinkles, and dousing it in raspberry syrup. madeline decides on plain vanilla with chocolate curls.

"you know..." she begins, voice a bit too playful in its caution. "i saw him looking at you."

you freeze, like the ice cream, but shake your head. so you hadn't imagined it. "i don't know what you're talking about."

"is it such a strange idea that a man might be interested in you?" she proposes, placing a long-handled spoon in both of your glasses.

"yes," you reply with a small, bolshie laugh.

she says your name in pest. "you're beautiful and sweet. charlie once called you enchanting.

charlie was a childhood friend - like most of them. he was also bestowed the nickname "charming charlie" and it wasn't just because he was blond, handsome, and had the reputation of a casanova. charlie complimented everybody - especially women.

you remind her of this with a scoff as the two of you sit on a log beside the river. the water laps gently against the banks, rippling slightly from the hop of a bullfrog in the distance.

"charlie may be charming but he doesn't lie." madeline takes a spoonful of her ice cream and then rolls her eyes in ecstasy at the sweetness. "this was the best decision i've made tonight."

"don't think i haven't noticed tommy giving you bedroom eyes throughout the entirety of dinner," you clap back. you also moan in rapture at the taste.

madeline blushes in the moonlight. "don't change the subject."

tommy was your favorite of madeline's many endeavors (she had a bit of reputation in town). the tall, brunette was a hockey player with freckles splattered along the bridge of his nose. you'd been interested in him first, but as soon as you saw how quickly the two of them hit it off, your attraction to him fizzled. he was a hockey player which was admittingly one of the reasons why you found him so appealing. madeline felt the same way. the two of them have been inseparable ever since his first college game.

a millisecond before a quip can escape your lips, rhea comes bounding down the beaten path, long legs skipping with ease and hair swaying behind her.

"come join us, you hermits!" she titters blissfully, obviously tipsy on wine. that's what you deduce anyway; she preferred red rather than hard liquor. you couldn't relate. "come drink with me!"

both you and madeline exchange a look but it's in good-humor.

"i see you've already started!" madeline yells across the distance.

rhea blows a playful raspberry. "it's no fun being drunk without you guys." she gesticulates with a wag of her finger. "come ooooon! they're playing elton!"

this peaks your interest. she knew the king of rock n' pop would convince you to dance badly which is exactly what the alcohol was for.

madeline pursues her lips and cocks an eyebrow at you. "i think that's a great idea," she says suspiciously.

you didn't trust her tone, but when you heard the beginning rift of saturday night's alright (for fighting) blast loudly from the distant speakers you were possessed.

"alright," you laugh as rhea grips your hand and drags you backwards.

the three of you giggle in the night. |||

you didn't drink very often, but you did it enough to know not to wear a sundress while doing so.

in your defense, you hadn't known you'd be drinking tonight - or this heavily, anyway. you wanted to be sober enough to be aware of any stupid ideas that may creep in your head in the event you oogled over din long enough. drunk you was not sober you.

drunk you was a flirt. but not just any kind of flirt - a tease. and no matter how much you may or may not have caught din djarin's attention, he didn't deserve to have debauched eyes - clouded with drink - making him feel any sense of discomfort.

but dammit, he'd been drinking too.

how much, you couldn't be sure, but he had nursed at least two glasses of whiskey at the bonfire. he sipped slowly, relishing in it, and wise enough to know it was dangerous to scarf it down. you tried to convince yourself that it was okay to be this irresponsible while throwing back your third shot of vodka. after all, you were in your twenties and could hold your alcohol better than your sisters. life was too short, youth was too fleeting...all of that bullshit your elders had lied about.

sir elton john certainly didn't help nor did freddie mercury. by the time don't stop me now began to play, you were spinning in circles with charlotte, head thrown back in whimsical laughter, and stumbling upon the ground. the two of you laid back - despite the dirt - and held your bellies in order to settle the maniacal chuckling.

your sundress might've been too short for such ruckus but you couldn't find yourself caring. no one was looking anyway, right? a breeze lifted the hem and you shrieked playfully. charlotte is startled by the sudden gasp. she lets out a throaty chortle.

"you're such a sloppy drunk," she accuses, but slurring all the same.

"am not," you protest in a faux whine, but giggles edge the corner of your voice.

the two of you continue to volley insults back and forth, all in good fun of course, before charlie and tommy hover above you with quizzled, but humored brows. they were handsome, but unfortunately not enough to distract you from the way din kept throwing swift glimpses at your pathetic display. his intense features loosened when he found you joking, albeit drunkenly, with friends.

madeline joins the group and leans her head on tommy's chest, apparently brave enough to admit something to herself. "let's play hide and seek," she suggests, words a little rushed and lazy.

tommy and charlie were both as intoxicated, but tries harder than you girls to pretend otherwise. they shrug at one another, interested in the idea, though tommy may have been catering to madeline's pleads.

"alright, bet." tommy presses a kiss to madeline's forehead. "i'll be seeker."

"rules?" you ask, attempting to get up from the ground and failing miserably. charlotte takes your hand, clumsily pulling you to your feet. you knock yourself against her. the two of you almost topple to the ground again but she steadies herself with you in her arms.

"the pond is as far as you can go," charlie interjects. he motions to the willow tree in the center of the back yard. "that's the counting place."

the five of you agree enthusiastically, separating from one another like a football team does before their play.

it might have been strange (even reckless) to someone in the east - or west - to take part in such a game in the dead of night. after all, the moon was your only source of light in the woods, its beams illuminating the thicket and branches with a faint glow. but in the midwest, such games were a right of passage. forests were to be memorized, danger to be reckoned with. hide and seek in these conditions were elementary.

by the time tommy starts counting in a sonic boom, you've already begun sprinting in the woods. you were somewhat aimless in your pursuit, eyes frantically searching for a hiding spot worthy enough to be considered. you were the master at hide and seek - always have been. it once took charlotte an hour to find you and, when she did, she caught you wedged between a rack of clothes in the basement closet. you had a reputation to uphold.

but, alas, vodka was stronger than your sense of pride. while running through the entanglement of abundant undergrowth, you lost your footing and tripped over - what you can only guess - a shrub riddled with thorns.

"jesus christ!" you scream, immediately grabbing hold of your foot to inspect the damage. it was enough to sober you up to squint through the darkness. why the fuck hadn't you worn shoes?

you can't see the thorn - the night is too thick with darkness. you curse again just as loud as the first time in attempt to gain someone's attention. you weren't terribly far from the house, so you prayed to the gods that your cries of help would be heard.

because, much to your chagrin, you couldn't walk.

you did try but it proved fruitless because of the thorn. you realized how stupid that was because it pushed in further. god damn this drunkenness you whined internally.

a rustling of leaves startles you. you decide this was the end - you'd die in the middle of the forest you once trusted with your life. you've accepted the gory fact that your father would find your body mangled by the paws of a coyote in the morning.

"i don't wanna die a virgin," you moan tearfully.

a heavy voice full of worriment slices through the darkness. "let me see," he says.

oh no. oh no. oh no, no, no.

din djarin leans down upon his knees, taking your foot in a gentle fashion, before squinting at the damage. his fingers prod carefully against the arch, wiggling something foreign from the meat of your skin. you squeak pathetically at the intrusion, shifting away from his makeshift surgery. finally, he pulls out the thorn and holds it up to the light of the moon.

"a rose thorn," he confirms. you watch as a hint of blood glistens against the lunar rays. he smiles tenderly and then presses the pad of his thumb to the wound. "you'll be alright."

you gulp, all drunkenness suddenly scrambling your thoughts like eggs. instead of thanking him like a normal human being you can only mumble, "i can't walk."

din allows a full bodied smile and your heart skips a beat. he is princely and it takes everything in your pie-eyed body to stop from saying it.

"grab a hold of my shoulders," he instructs, leaning down a bit more so you can reach. you do so, very hesitantly, because there's no way in hades he'll be able to carry you.

but din is full of surprises. he lifts you almost effortlessly as you're slung bridal style against his chest. you must be joking.

with your arms wrapped around his neck, you gaze softly into his eyes. it's hard to see them, but you're close enough to watch as his pupils dilate, mouths almost pressing against one another. gods, you want to kiss him. you really do, but the very little percentage of your brain sober enough to reason with you decides against it. you'd regret it in the morning.

"thank you," is what you meekly say.

his stare is a bit more serious now...but not in an icy way. no. he looked...just as charlie once said...enchanted. his lips part just slightly, considering his next move, but then falls short. he nods in chaste before turning towards the break of the woods.

this was bad.

||| this is just the beginning of the night, ya’ll. more fun to follow! :-) tag list: @dancingwiththeplanets​ | @t3a-bag​  |  @dodgerandevans​

[writing-frenzy]

Care to Make a Wager? (SVSSS Fic)

Summery: No System AU: In which Airplane finds he has a new lease in life, but of course it would have a cost. Of course, being the creator of this world gives him quiet the price cut. Not to mention the untended bonus content.

Still, he did not expect the direction his life would go.

(Warning: mentions of death, violence, and most stuff you could find in SVSSS Canon. You should be good, but here is a just in case.)

---

When one Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky was reborn, he really wanted to curse his lot in life. Sure, he had been born into a rather well off Merchant Family, but when the Lord of the Family has two Official Wives and a crap ton of Mistresses on the side, things were bound to get crazy.

Luckily one Shang Huan had one hell of a Mother; in another life, Airplane might have described her as a ‘killer queen or a ‘boss ass bitch’, but as his mother, he just thought of her as the most amazing woman on the planet. As it was, She alongside a whole bunch of tutors taught him everything he needed to know about the world and then some. 

(Sewing was a bitch to get right.)

But with those lessons, it didn’t take long for Shang Huan to realize he was in his own fucking novel; it had not been a happy realization, making him break out into a truly childish tantrum, filled with screaming and tears that only calmed after he was given some delicious melon seeds.

(Luckily it had been attributed to wanting a snack after a morning full of lessons, otherwise he probably would have gotten the switch for it...)

But with all this knowledge of his place in life now with him, Shang Huan needed to start planning; good thing that was one of his specialties.

Noting down every bit of information he could, Shang Huan mapped out as much items and cheats he could afford to take from the Protagonist, as well as places he could and couldn’t go, hazel eyes narrowed as he messily scratched out his plots with his trusty quill and journal. The many lessons he Mother made him go through only helped to sharpen him, as well as learn the world’s common sense.

He was having a good go at it, building himself up as much as he could before something completely from left stage truly changed his course.

“There is a legend of Dreaming Glory, said to be a treasure to ensure great health and excellent rest. Though be cautious, for it is guarded carefully by the spirit of a Felled Divine Beast, angry and resentful of the betrayal it had faced.” was a tale a wandering storyteller spun, a group of children ooooing and awwwwing at the right places, even as Airplane felt his jaw drop at the information, focusing more on those words then the candy his mother allowed him to buy at one of the festival stalls.

See, while the Legend of the Dreaming Glory was definitely right at home with this world, it actually hadn’t been anywhere in Proud Immortal Demon Way; it had been in one of his earlier short stories, where Airplane had been practicing with the Xianxia/Xuanhuan genres (and didn’t need to rely on it, dreaming more of the theater then writing). (Until a mugging gone wrong and dreams cut short-) 

This... opened a few more roads then expected, especially if all his fantasy stories came into play, as there had been a lot of experimentation with plots and ideas until he hit his cash cow with PIDW. After all, taking something from the protagonist was always going to be a risk of somehow getting his attention, no matter how much the man wouldn’t actually need it.

(After all, showing off had always been a part of Luo Binghe’s character; showing that he was no longer the penniless street kid, no longer the weak disciple, no longer the one who was always pushed around, but now the one who can take.)  

It also meant more research; thankfully, his Mother was one to always encourage more in the way of learning, thankfully humoring all the ‘trips’ he wished to take.... In hindsight, he probably should have questioned why she was always willing to take him and go, but at the time was just thankful that he could indeed confirm places he would need to visit later and squirrel away items that were within his reach. (An actual legit Cultivation Manuel, even if it was only directed for growing crops and alchemy, was still his most proudest find, only needing a riddle to get and easily hidden in his pouch with his other learning books. Being an Author only got him so far, as every little detail was needed to ensure one stayed on a steady path, though did provide it’s own little boosts here and there.)

------=------

One day, when Shang Huan had been 13, sneakily already past the first part of Cultivation Qi Refining and entering into the first stage of Foundation Building, found his Mother to be ill, no Doctors seeming to be able to cure her (or willing too as he saw a servant of the Second Wife slip a few gold; he got his revenge in the end), Shang Huan took a deep breath and buckled down, doing all that his Mother said to do with the time she had left, learning as much as he could before it would no longer be open to him. 

(Like he could stay here in this den of vipers, without his Mother’s protection and love; there was nothing else for him here after all.)

In that time as his Mother stubbornly clung on, he listened as she mourned his chance to enter into the prestigious Cultivation Sect of Cang Qiong like the First Wife’s Third Son, Shang Shaoqing. She apologized greatly that she could not fight for him to get that chance, like so many of the other Mistresses did for their own children.

‘Huh,’ Airplane couldn’t help but think, ‘looks like I just dodged a arrow.’ though it was good to finally know just what the timeline was for the story; Shang Shaoqing was to be a certain traitorous Peak Lord after all.

As it was, his Mother showed her determination and spirit greatly, lasting till he was 16 before she finally past away, a smile on her face as she did, her son long gone with his inheritance and her blessing of broken ties, carrying her name meaning of Shang instead of his Father’s.

(If the night before, Shang Huan had decided to tell her of his other life, told her how this was a story he had happened to read, showing her a few of the treasure he had gathered, how he cried when Shang Wenyan had only smiled with a few too many teeth, her voice fierce as she praised her son with all her heart, hugging him close with what remained of her strength as she told him her last words.

“Live life however you want my child, live and dream and hope, do not be afraid to destroy any your way, and know I will love you always my greatest pride and joy.”

Well... no one needed to know about that.)

But with this new freedom came it’s cons as much as it’s pros. As he was stuck at a bottleneck in Foundation Building at Middle Stage, there was still a number of things outside his reach until at least Core Formation First Stage...

------=------

It was during his wandering, selling talismans he could make at his level, along with tales he made up that he finally got his big break.

He first heard tales of a powerful Resentful Spirit that was residing in a broken land near the Borders, no one from Demons to Humans wanting the land as it was deemed useless for all the resentful energy there, and no one bothering to pay a sect for what they considered a waste of money and time.

Shang Huan saw this, and wonder if it was what he recognized... Taking in more details and scoping out for any information, Airplane couldn’t help but wonder how lucky it was; this was indeed a spirit from one of his very first stories in fact. He knew exactly what to do.

Instead of fighting the Resentful Spirit, Shang Huan brought it pure cave water and incense, smelling of ash and jasmine. 

This certainly got the Spirit’s attention.

“What do you want Rogue?”

“I want for many things to be honest.” the brunet Cultivator smiled, not showing any teeth so as to make it look falsely gentle, “But for now, I admit I do desire your land.”

That got a huff for his efforts, the spirit a mass of negativity and ire, but actually still listening.

“You have provided the right offering, so I will give you a chance; bring me wine of the Soothing Jade Flower, the Broken Sword of Chun, and a branch of Deathly Yew... You get me these three things, and the land will be yours.” And with that shopping list given, the spirit was gone, even as the energy seemed thicker then before, the incense and water gone.  

And with an absolutely evil grin, Airplane was off; he had already remembered the Wine and branch, had even gotten them first as he had plans for them, but he had not remembered the broken blade.

Fortunately, it wasn’t too hard to find; he had written that the blade had been struck with a heavy stone in a battle between Demons and Cultivators on the borders of the land, where it would lay forever. And lo and behold, there was only one ancient battlefield it could be abandoned in, as this was PIDW.

There weren’t many left over from the borders after all, most of them being purified already. And as he thought, the Bloody Sword Grave was still around, a testament to just how much the resentful energy had soaked into the ground, demons and cultivators alike avoiding the place like the plague, even as bloody rusted swords stayed stabbed into the ground, their thirst and hatred still felt even to this day.

Couldn’t be compared to Xin Mo of course, but for being swords on the surface they sure were impressive. Ignoring all these deadly, intact blades stabbed into the ground, Shang Huan covered his face with a scarf drenched in purified Qi infused water, even as the talisman he sewed on for defense and purity glowed the more he traveled through.

He finally stopped at a blood splattered rock, digging carefully around it as he did, before he managed to pull out four broken pieces of what had once been a beautiful blade, but was now nothing but shambles and rags.

Having what he needed, Airplane made his way back to the spirit and their lands.

------=------

(This deadly spirit of a truly terrible Cultivator, who had been feared and revered for being a monster on the battlefield... cried as they saw the items laid out before them.

“Ah, no my Han-Er, my beloved figher... why you stupid, loveable fool...” The Spirit sobbed, easily using his energy to clean and reformed the blade, manipulating the energies of the other two items to aid it, ensuring the sword would still be pure, hugging it close even as it seemed to damage them.

“... He tried, to come back to you; his fellow soldiers betrayed him... He loved you so much... still does.” Shang spoke, watching as the spirit that laid resting in the blade finally came out with this truth, purifying the other as they did, along with most of the land around them.

The brunet had to look away from their reunion, their emotions a bit too much for him... This had been one of his first tragedies he had written, a solider and their beloved separated because of jealousy and hate, doomed to wait for each other forever, the solution to be so easy to have, if someone had given them a bit of kindness, to discover the truth of their separation, though never given the chance in the end... He never mention just what the Beloved’s gender was, made it ambiguous, but had in his mind of minds always thought of them as a man...

Maybe he shouldn’t have put too much of himself into his work, but a habit is so hard to break.

“... We truly thank you; as promised, the land is now yours to do with as you see fit; all you need to do is put your name on the deed and your blood into the ward stone. All the treasures inside are now rightfully in your ownership, so mote it be.” was announced, making Shang Huan turn to see two beautiful and handsome men smiling at him, before they bowed seeing they had his attention.

Airplane could only bow back, biting on the words of how he owed to them to do this at least.

And with that, they were gone, to enter finally into the cycle of reincarnation, together at last...)

------=------

Having his own place was wonderful; a lot of work, but wonderful all the same.

The wards around his land ensured no one with malice could actually enter it, along with protections against thieves and robbers like most noble Sects had. Shang Huan even went as far as to make sure he owned the plot of land in the official records, having everything stamped and recognized, even as he made sure no one actually looked too closely at what land it actually was.

He even made sure to pay his yearly taxes to the Emperor on time, making sure everything was nicely recorded and logged. (And seeing as he didn’t live in any town or such, he didn’t have to bother paying anything to any Lords for protection! How nice was that?)

But having a base of operations, one with land rich in Qi and perfect for Cultivating on, it not only gave Airplane security, but many other advantages as well.

He now had a place to securely put all the treasures he had gathered, which was a lot considering it was a variety of weapons, valuables, and even priceless seeds to plant. He could be completely self-sufficient as he cultivated, the spirits on the land easily convinced to do chores in exchange for sweets and treats (And being able to live in such a energy rich place). Not to mention how his Cultivation not only went up, but combined with other manuals that were treasures of the home, Shang was set on his way to being a powerful Cultivator in his own right.

And if he was feeling a bit cooped up, he could always go on journeys around his world, exploring and treasure hunting for odds and ends as he saw fit.

Soon enough, Shang Huan had managed to reach 34 years old, entering the Peak of Nascent Soul stage in his cultivation when, in a bit of boredom and interest, he bought out a debt ridden gambling house on the border of his territory, that rested in a ghost-like town on the border of the Human World and the Demon Realm.

It was, quiet frankly, just something to do to pass the time. It wasn’t too hard to fix the place up, and warding it had been a fun challenge of his skills, but he honestly hadn’t expected anything much of it, just putting a few of his lessor needed or easily replenished treasure up to be won. And making it to where anything bet could only be what one had to bet, alongside making sure others would have to honor it had been a fun spell to create, as he really didn’t want to be bothered by liars and braggarts and then having to chase them down. He even just made up some Golems and bargained with a few willing natural spirits to help run the place.

This was just suppose to be a fun little venture; he never expected it to blow up like it did.

------=------

It started slow; a trickle, with a whisper, a simple rumor.

There is a place where priceless treasure could be won; if you’re willing to bet for it that is. But be careful to not bite off more then you can chew, for it might be more then a bit of blood and coins you lose.

Some poor sods have even lost their very souls to the place, even now working where screams and laughter flow so freely to the terrible click the dice, the gentle flap of the cards.

It is a place no Mortal is safe, where no Demon has promise, where a Cultivator is honor bound to accept what is due; after all, no one has to enter the place, no one needs to keep coming back, no one has to bet their all, not all all. 

But oh, how they come; even those who dare not darken the doorway of that gambling hall come, filling what was once an empty town into one practically bustling with life. Funny, how it came about because of such a deadly place.

And oh, do not even bother messing with the Gilded Plane Gambling Hall’s Owner, a man who at first seems so weak and stumbling, so gentle and busy with their hard work, who at first couldn’t hurt a fly even as he smiles so prettily.

He’ll smile that same smile even as you sell your very soul at his tables, those gorgeous hazel eyes amused even as the crowds pant at his feet, screams all around from both terror and ecstasy.

(Shang Huan can’t help but sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as he is once more offered someone’s entire being; if he’s said it once, he’s said it again, betting is at the tables, not at his feet.

Just another day it seems; hopefully there will be no explosions in the kitchen again.)  

-----------------------=-----------------------

0.0 huh, I did not expect this when I started writing; I just wanted to have Airplane have some fun in the world he created, maybe opening up a few businesses to make money on the side. I did not mean to make him into an oblivious Hua Cheng of the PIDW verse (Yes, in this verse, he will be as terrifying and pretty, I will not take criticism for it.)

Also, I was greatly inspired by Nighthaunting, though instead of ballet I have SQH as a theatre kid whose dreams got cut short due to bad luck and assholes. I love how they have built their world, and how they say that writing was probably a side thing for Airplane, which just makes so much sense. Also, I am all for Airplane being scary and fully taking advantage of his author knowledge, so haha! Hope you all enjoyed this story~

[starkeristheendgame]

If you are okay with it, I was wondering if you could do a body switch soulmate au. When you first make eye contact with your soulmate you switch bodies. You stay in each other's bodies for 24 hours. I feel like this could cause some shenanigans on both sides. Tony hasn't had to be taught anything in awhile and Peter doesn't know how to run a company.

I was a little apprehensive about this idea at first but honestly? I adore it. I am afraid, however, I took this away from the ‘humor’ pathway and plopped it straight down into ‘light angst’. Please accept my apologies for that - And I’d be happy to write something more lighthearted if this doesn’t hit the spot. Keeping your own emotions and mindset out of what you write is hard sometimes. 

Slight AU in that they meet differently to CW. 

TW: Light angst | Slight hurt 

He was going to lose his fucking mind. He could feel each one of his IQ points disintegrating as he stared at the board (an actual digital board, what fucking year were they in? 2015?) and tapped his pen restlessly on the desk. He hadn’t been to school since he was eighteen. The last time he’d been in a classroom was January, giving a motivational speech to Princeton graduates. 

He felt too small and too stifled and if this woman pronounced Epinephrine wrong one more time, he was going to launch his desk at her and snap that stupid board in half. 

Because he could do that, now. Displays of sheer power. Because Peter Parker had been bitten by a genetically modified spider and Tony was currently occupying Peter’s body. 

Soulmates were so, so overrated. 

“Hey, wonder kid. Tap that pen one more time” the girl to his left whispered, and Tony shot her a cool side-eye. MJ quirked a brow at him, equally unimpressed, and nodded to the board. Tony scowled but knew the effect was ruined by the soft, pretty baby-face he currently wore. Curse Peter and his lopsided brows and his huge eyes. Curse soulmates for existing. 

MJ was thus far the only one who’d noticed The Switch. It was only sheer coincidence that Peter and Tony both had brown eyes of a similar enough shade that the telling switch of eye colour between soulmates hadn’t given them away. MJ, however, was astoundingly attuned into her best friend, and it had only taken three minutes in her presence for her scowl at him and ask who the fuck was wearing her friend’s meatsuit. Tony had to begrudgingly admit that he could see why her and Peter were good friends. She’d looked unimpressed at his claim until he’d pulled out his (Peter’s) phone to show the frantic texts from that morning, and then she’d huffed, rolled her eyes, and dragged him to first period. 

He thought lunch would be a reprieve when it came, but instead he found himself staring with growing dismay at a tray of food that he’d refuse even if he was a prisoner, blanching in disgust when a sloppy excuse for a mac’n’cheese was dumped into one of the slots. “I’m going to die” he complained, ushered along by an unsympathetic MJ. “This is cruel. This is inhumane. Dogs don’t even get fed this”. 

“Yeah, well. You’re a billionaire, so. Put up or shut up. I have no sympathy for capitalist elitists”. And, wow, rude. But understandable. He sank down onto one of the bench seats and tried to stop his stomach from rolling at the way the meal wobbled when it was set down. He’d been poking at it for several moments, largely ignored by MJ, when a shadow fell over his table. He looked up and stared with disinterest at the sneering figure above him, before he sighed. 

“Which one are you, then? Neb? Flake?” 

“Flash” the form above him frowned, and Tony waved a dismissive hand. 

“Yeah, whatever. Class killed off half my IQ points and I’m not wasting the rest on you. Off you pop”. He turned back to his pitiful excuse of a meal, prodding the macaroni distrustfully with his fork. The boy besides him gaped, flustered, before turning on his heel and stomping off. When Tony glanced up, the girl was looking appraisingly over her book at him. 

“Maybe you should leave your balls behind. Peter could do with them” she noted, before dropping her gaze again. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“How much money does he actually have?” 

“Sir’s total net worth including assets, liabilities and investments are currently estimated at just short of a trillion, Mr. Parker. In terms of ‘real time currently’ Sir has £515,268,385,012 as of the current hour”. 

Peter was gonna pass out. He was wearing the body of a man with five-hundred billion in the bank. He’d known Tony Stark was rich, obscenely and un-necessarily so, but that was a whole other level. Vaguely unsteady, he sank down on the plush couch, feeling a little green. It had already been a few hours since waking, but he had yet to get used to the fact that he was, for all intents and purposes, Tony Stark. 

“Does that bother you?” The artificial voice asked after a moment, sounding impossibly curious. Peter hadn’t thought AI of this level possible, but here he was, talking to a voice that was more realistic than some of the living people he knew. 

“Its...A shock, I guess. I mean, it does bother me, I suppose. Nobody needs that much money. That much cold cash alone could eradicate homelessness in America. But...I don’t know. Its his money, he earns it. He saves the world and stuff. I don’t know how you could put a value on some of the things he’s done”. 

The AI was quiet for a moment, pensive. “Sir’s ‘profession’ is high cost also, Mr. Parker. The worth of the Mark IVII alone is £6,000,500,000”. Peter thought about it for a moment, then gave in, humming softly. He supposed in that sense, having that much money kind of didn’t matter, then, when a huge chunk of it was consumed by saving the world. He’d seen how often that suit got dinged up, and had no doubt repairs and replacing parts was costly. 

“Am I allowed to get something to eat?” He asked after a moment, stomach rumbling a little. He’d spent so much time this morning freaking out and being consoled by JARVIS that he’d missed breakfast and lunch had slipped him by. 

“Of course, Mr. Parker. Several components of the kitchen are automated, but I am capable of guiding through any recipes or devices you are unfamiliar with”. 

JARVIS had apparently activated something called ‘Romeo and Juliet Protocol’ when it had been revealed that Tony had been Switched, and a large majority of the Tower was closed off and protected. Peter couldn’t leave the penthouse and JARVIS had strict control of everything, even down to the doors. Peter was happy enough to just sit there and wait it out, though. As amazing as being here was, snooping was rude, especially when what he could find could potentially compromise the entire world. 

He chose to make a simple, small sandwich which involved nothing more than a single knife and plate, marvelling at the giant fridge and the ridiculous amount of food within. Apparently Mr. Stark had a chef that stopped by once every other day with prepared meals, and was on-call for whenever he required a fresh meal without having to cook it. The produce was organic and far different to the sad, wilting lettuce that could be found at the local Cheap Fresh. 

Technically, if it was plausible, when you Switched you were supposed to follow a specific protocol set up by the Government, but Mr. Stark had ultimately lost his entire mind at discovering his soulmate was fourteen and had immediately demanded Peter stay locked up like Rapunzel while he pretended to be him for the day to throw off suspicion. Peter couldn’t deny that had hurt a little, but he understood it. Soulmates or not it would be the scandal of the century - Tony would be called all sorts of things at best and investigated at worst, and the nature of their age difference meant a lifetime of interference and monitoring by the Government and protective services. He knew it was easier to pretend it hadn’t happened, to hide it from the world. Tony had suggested a private agreement, a ridiculous sum of money in exchange for Peter’s silence. 

He realised he’d been staring morosely at his plate when JARVIS prompted him softly, and he sighed, taking a bite. There was no physical remote for the TV but JARVIS helped him to access a cache of movies and he settled on Inception, his weakness for Tom Hardy and Leonardo DiCaprio soothing the ache of his new reality. 

“Am I allowed to ask what running a business is like?” He asked after a while, head balanced on his palm. 

“In what regard, Mr. Parker?” 

“Well, I don’t know. I mean, I’m fifteen. I don’t know how to run a company, let alone run a company and be a superhero. What kinda stuff does he do? Does he attend meetings? Does he fly around the world on company retreats like in the movies?” 

JARVIS sounded lightly amused when he replied. “Sir has delegated much of the daily company operation amongst several trusted employees, but he is still the namesake, owner and CEO of Stark Industries. He does attend frequent meetings, but most of Sir’s ‘flying around the world’ is done for leisure or Iron Man related activity”. 

“Sir spends most of his time in the lab, conducting important work for both his priorities. Sir also does a respectable amount of charity work, investment work and supportive work. I believe his latest venture is funding the entirety of MIT’s PhD graduate projects”. 

Wow. That was...That would be a lot of money. And being supported by someone like Tony Stark was bound to be something to boast about, something that would fluff up your resume a little. 

“Does he enjoy it?” Peter asked after a moment, fingertips raising absently to the arc reactor in his chest. It ached constantly, a low-level background pain that never quite faded out of touch, the odd sensation of a gaping maw in his chest something that had made him heave earlier that morning. Mr. Stark was tired, burnt out, but still going. It made Peter want to spend his twenty-four hours just sleeping, to try and soothe the man’s headache. 

“Sir finds great gratification in his duties” JARVIS replied quietly, though he did not specify which. Peter gave a hum and succumbed to the desire to nap, curled up on the corner of the couch with Inception fading quietly into the background. 

He ate again when he woke up, and blinked when he saw the time. Mr. Stark’s phone had been heavily locked down, but he could still access the message channel between this number and his own. The messages there were disheartening. 

Told your hot Aunt I’m staying at that Nate kids house tonight. I’ll be coming to the Tower, but you won’t see me. I’ll stay on the level below.

Sorry, kid. Seeing someone else wearing me like a Givenchy suit is just too head-spinning. 

JARVIS will keep you safe up there. We switch back at midnight, so try and get some sleep. You’ll wake up as yourself and I’ll get the plan in motion. 

“JARVIS, when was the last time Mr. Stark cried?” He asked timidly, and the AI was silent for a moment. 

“Four years ago, Mr. Parker”. 

“Oh,” he breathed out, vision blurring. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’m about to ruin that” and he let the teardrops fall.

[braindeacl]

Into the Thick of It (Ugh) | Eilidh & Nicole

SETTING: White Crest National Park. TIMING: Recent. Late at night. PARTIES: @nicsalazar & @braindeacl SUMMARY: Eilidh and Nicole go on a search to find Bigfoot. They run into his weird cousin.  WARNINGS: N/A

With the light of the moon to guide her way, Eilidh trekked further and further within the wood. The cosmic luminescence looked gently down upon her, but with each step, it grew weaker and weaker. Trees blended with the sky until nothing separated the two. Before the darkness could fully engulf her, claim her in its wide embrace, she stopped. And waited. The only indication she was there was her flashlight—a beacon.

Typically, Eilidh wasn’t one for the night shift. Personally, she’d rather be snuggling with Tulip. Especially for something so trivial. What was this, the fourth case of boy-who-cried-bigfoot? What first caused excitement and wonder, now caused a scoff. Not that she was a skeptic. Anything was possible, and Bigfoot was not beyond the limits of her imaginations. But, with that fear locked into everyone’s mind, anything lurking in the corner of your eye could be a ‘monster’. So it very well could be a bear. The past three times it was a bear or something else of the sort. But there had been multiple sightings of this specific ‘Bigfoot.’ A part of her dared to hope that finally, finally she’d be able to see it. Regardless of its name, it had been seen earlier heading the very same direction Eilidh stood now. It was her job to help investigate the whatever-it-was, give it a name and show what it truly was—just another creature, supernatural or not. Or, at the very least, make sure whatever-it-was wasn’t causing any harm to the local flora and fauna. As of yet, she hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary. Especially by White Crest’s low standards.

The sudden return of light caught her eye, and she directed her own at the source. “Hey, Nic!” Eilidh offered a brief wave. “Would’ve waited for you further back. But got bored.” With her flashlight, she motioned forward. Enveloped in illumination, the forest was almost inviting. “Let’s go check on this B-b-b-biiigfoot.”

Nicole thought going back to work would fix most of her problems. Less time sitting at home with nothing to do, meant less time to deal with the demons in her head. So work? A pretty fucking good distraction— in theory. But in reality, it didn’t turn out that way. She was doing terribly at her job too. But she was still adjusting, right? She was still adjusting, she kept telling herself, despite being back for weeks now. It didn’t help that the Park was nothing but chaos after the news of a Bigfoot sighting broke out. The same reports that happened every couple of months or so, Nicole had learned after the first few the dozens of briefings she had attended over the years. Yet the bastard was never found. And they were left to deal with the chaos that was dealing with the increase in visitors flocking to the park in hopes of catching the monster with their cameras, putting themselves in danger in the process. 

 Apparently the Park wanted a more hands on approach this time, and Nicole ended up getting roped into the investigation the foresters were supposed to do. Her first field activity since coming back to work. The night shift was always dangerous, but never as terrifying as the office hours, so to walk around the woods searching for a non-existent beast looked like a fine alternative. Finally being back on the trails would be a good thing. 

 Nicole ventured deep into the forest,  swaying her flashlight lazily. She had no use for it when she had other senses to pick up on anything strange. And soon enough, she found her companion for the night. She liked Eilidh, even if her very tense demeanor didn’t read that way. “Hey…” her lips pressed into a thin smile, unsure how to feel about the nickname. But that ship sailed the first time they met. “Right” she nodded, following the woman a few steps behind. “You know...this is the first time they’ve wanted us to see what the fuck is out there. I’m not sure if that’s— you haven’t heard any rumors...right?”  

Eilidh quirked an eyebrow. “Rumors?” The location this supposed creature kept frequenting was a bit concerning, or a bit intriguing, depending on your mindset. It was in one of the many parts of the forest that seemed to attract supernatural creatures like flies to a corpse. And it was peculiar its classification had yet to be determined. The Park was typically so quick, so determined, so desperate to uncover the source of odd activities. Activities they would only be publicly hinted at—only enough to maintain safety. So, talk of the truth was discouraged. Having too many noses sticking themselves into where they didn’t belong always led to issues. Curiosity may kill the cat. Or exposure of the supernatural community, and with the popularity that Bigfoot carried, such publicity would be far and wide and deadly. Either way, death could be found at the conclusion.

Despite the concerns, tales still circulated around the town, as they always did. She couldn’t help a chuckle as she recalled one. “Aye. Supposedly some guy saw this ‘Bigfoot’ digging up flowers near here. Maybe he fucked up. Needs a bouquet for Mrs. Bigfoot.” The scenario played in the back of her mind, and that chuckle twinkled again in the back of her throat. Without breaking her stride, she fished out a handful of wildflowers from her backpack. “So, I brought this as a peace offering.” There was a pause, and it was here that her stride did falter for a moment, as she replayed the conversation in her head. “Or, wait. You mean this place?” The two found themselves heading into a part of the Park shrouded in mystery, especially to regular citizens. And mystery always gave birth to hearsay. 

Nicole already assumed that anyone who worked at the National Park knew about the supernatural. One way or the other. It was just the way the job went. Every now and then, weird shit was bound to happen. People died. Rangers died. So she didn’t second guess herself, the usual apprehension gone from her voice as she caught up to Eilidh. “Rumors...” she repeated, redirecting her flashlight to the ground. Wasn’t Bigfoot supposed to leave giant footprints? “Before—  the last couple of times this happened… I don’t know if you—” she trailed off. The other woman was newer at the job, she couldn’t recall if she had dealt with it before. “The park used to ignore the whole Bigfoot shit”. Their plan always entailed warning people about bears to keep them away. And add more patrolling, so much more patrolling. It hadn’t been exactly successful. So she couldn’t fault the Park for wanting to try a new approach. “So I was thinking— I don’t know, maybe... they really do think there's a monster out there this time. And it’s not just… a wild animal”. 

Nicole couldn’t remember being so deep into that side of the park before. Perks of the job. She was never done discovering things. Her partner's joke felt out of place, considering the danger they could be dealing with, but somehow it managed to ease the tension she had been carrying for most of the day.  She made sure to keep her chuckle quiet enough. It was a good thing that Eilidh seemed in good spirits at least. It would make the night shift more bearable. “And we’re about to walk into them having a fight? Ah shit... it’s not too late to go back” she mumbled, eyes darting quickly around the dark. She had to keep her senses open if she wanted them to stay safe. She was ready to run at the first sign of the beast. No more playing hero for her. A branch snapped at the distance, and Nicole tensed immediately. “Heard something move” she held her arm up to stop Eilidh. “I think…” she added, because fuck, she couldn’t be sure of anything in her life anymore. She nudged the flashlight in the direction of the sound, but took no steps. “Probably just an animal, but...” she hated that she couldn’t go ahead and investigate. She was scared of many things, but it had never interfered with her job before.

Monster. Unless she meant some great evil decided to spend its free time spooking and inconveniencing tourists, Eilidh assumed what Nicole meant was something supernatural. Eilidh hated when it was used that way. To describe a creature beyond normal human comprehension; to look at a living being’s nature and condone it for something it couldn’t control. “It wouldn’t be a monster.” Her voice was suddenly curt. “Just another animal. Supernatural or not.” Hopefully, whatever it may be, it was something they could handle. 

Eilidh perked at the continuation of her quip. It was still exciting when Nicole decided to play along, indulge her, so she wouldn’t waste this moment. “If we don’t help, how will they save their marriage?” But as Nicole’s hand rose, her brief return to good humor was cut short. She stopped, perplexed. Her head began to swivel, trying to pick up anything on her end, but her ears only perceived the typical ebb and flow of a forest at rest. Even when the direction was pointed out to her, nothing new became apparent. So, she sought help from her secret friend. With the slightest of motions, she jerked her chin forward—a signal, a command. After a tense moment, answers were brought, but they weren’t very enlightening. It was very dark, after all, and James had trouble seeing much of anything. But he still could hear. Eyes locked on the invisible figure, Eilidh’s expression became even more confused as he laid out what he heard. “Oom oom?” She mouthed. 

Ooooooom ooooooom answered. Within seconds, some of the distant trees illuminated by Nicole’s light began to shake, overwhelmed with a sudden weight. Eilidh looked up. Something looked back. 

“Yeah, you don’t know that…” Nicole mumbled to herself, aware of how unconvincing she sounded. Maybe Eilidh did have more knowledge, but she didn’t want to have the monster argument with anyone else. She couldn’t see herself changing her opinion on that. “Just hope you’re right” she let out a weary sigh, knowing hope hadn’t been on her side lately.  “I don’t think they’re paying us enough for that” a laugh caught in her throat. The atmosphere changed so quickly between them that she had no time to wipe the grin off her face. “Shit...shit” The forest floor shook under them, and the rustling of the trees was followed by an ominous—  Voice? Nicole wasn’t sure. A few months ago, the noise wouldn’t have stopped her. The noise would’ve been an invitation to go on and get more answers. Meet the mysterious creature in the heart of the woods. God she used to be stupid. The realization wasn’t new, but it was good to add more proof to it. 

“Back up” Nicole tried to grab Eilidh’s shirt, but she was out of her reach. “Hey!” she called again, the ground shaking made it hard to keep her balance. She lowered her flashlight. She could make out the tall shadow — much taller than both of them— pacing between trees. The thought of switching to her night vision briefly crossed her mind. No, no. There was no point in doing that. She’d draw more attention glowing in the dark. The creature, monster...whatever it was continued to approach, coming to a sudden stop right when Nicole was ready to pick up Eilidh and bolt. “Whatever that is— we should fuck off” words spilled out of her mouth with urgency. Fuck that. She had learned her lesson. But the giant figure didn’t seem interested in them, instead lowered its body to the ground and poked with a giant hand something she couldn’t make out. Her nostrils flared, hoping a scent would clue her in. It was something familiar. Something she had been close to recently. Something she could smell on her partner’s clothes sometimes. “Eilidh” she whispered, and for once she didn’t think about how uncomfortable it was to call someone by their first name. Shivers ran down her spine when she finally processed the smell. “Uh, do we— you know of any missing people reports around the area?”

Like the first sight of the sun after a storm, the scent overcame Eilidh—blinding. Flesh spiced with death. Oozing sweet liquids she wished to lick. Her teeth gave an involuntary chatter before it was cut short as she dug her nails into her hands, threatening to puncture. If Nicole weren’t around, she’d be tempted to play tug-of-war with the meal, test this creature’s might. Or perhaps even share. She only really wanted one part, anyhow. But eating a corpse in front of a coworker would doubtfully result in anything positive. Damn. Instincts were gripped tight and dampened—the action made part of her feel hollow. Doubt that’s the infamous Bigfoot. She couldn’t recall ‘eating hikers’ being mentioned in that Bigfoot conspiracy documentary James made her watch. Double damn. But, this was still turning into a fascinating mystery, because the question still remained: what the fuck was that? Captivated by the mystique of the unknown, eyes wide in wonder, she almost was left unaware of her companion’s high nerves. The use of her first name brought her back. Momentarily she felt exposed, anger arriving as a defense. But distraction soon came. Missing people. Right. Where did the body come from? It seemed like this creature was scavenging, not hunting. Where was the hunter? “Nothing specific,” she lied, though she truthfully had no idea who the corpse once was, “but people disappear all the time. There’s plenty options.”

Eilidh wanted, needed, to get a closer look. At least a small peek. What was the cause of death? Could this be chalked up to a creature or being that couldn’t finish a meal. A freak accident. Or something unneeded, something out of passion rather than survival. Something human. Ignoring Nicole’s signals to retreat, she took a step forward. Craning her neck, trying to see the body without notice. As the creature whipped its head back, it was evident she failed. She froze. It simply flared its nostrils in response: a sniff. Then, it stood. She bared her teeth, a hiss whistled passed her exposed canines. It sniffed again. Disregarding its previous engagement, the creature inched closer. It was only then she began to back up, to the best of her ability as the ground shivered below her under its might. Despite that, she remained focused on the creature. Her hand quickly moved to the dagger hidden under her skirt. Though unsheathed, she kept the weapon close to her hip. She did not want a fight. 

Nicole let out a grumble in agreement. People disappeared all the time. There was a reason everyone signed the waiver at the entrance. The bodies they were able to find were the lucky ones. “Right,” like the one in front of them, about to become food for a mysterious creature. Yeah, so fucking lucky. They remained quiet, watching the beast poke the body. Maybe it wasn’t that good of a meal. She swallowed, considering the very real possibility that maybe, it prefered fresher food. She reached for Eilidh's arm again, not taking her eyes off the danger. Only then she noticed her partner had gone and moved closer. Her hands balled into fists, resisting the urge to yell at her. She hated the small part of her that couldn’t blame the woman for her curiosity. Not long ago, she would’ve loved to be close to what was one of the biggest mysteries in the world. If it was Bigfoot at all. But she wasn’t sure how willing she was to risk her life at the park after everything she had gone through. 

The thought of not fitting the job she loved so much anymore wasn’t something Nicole wanted to deal with yet. She couldn't consider it. She gripped the flashlight tighter, forcing herself to step forward to meet Eilidh.

The creature picked up on their presence, but it wasn’t until Nicole heard Eilidh’s hissing that she dared to say anything. And— she really had to wonder if she heard that right. “Are you... out of your fucking mind?” she scoffed, eyes wide as she looked between the monster and the woman. “Macleod” she called, her voice colder. She was addressing a coworker, not the person who made her feel more comfortable than anyone at the Park. The beast examined them for a moment. Or rather, it examined Eilidh. It was as if Nicole didn’t exist. She held her breath until the beast lost interest and started munching on the dead body’s...hair?  It was a nasty sight. 

She couldn’t be the person who stood behind and let other people take the lead anymore. Nicole grabbed Eilidh’s cold hand, giving it a forceful pull.”That’s it, we came—  we saw — we can go back a-and warn everybody else. Let’s just get the fuck away. Or— or we’re gonna be the fucking main course!”. Her sudden movement alerted the creature once again. It discarded the rest of the body, eyes glowing with new interest at the sight of Eilidh. That was it, they were about to be eaten. It was safe to say she didn’t think what she did next. Blurting out a quick apology, she swiftly wrapped her arm around Eilidh’s mid section and lifted her off the ground. The flashlight shaking in her hand pointed everywhere but ahead, but Nicole knew to just get one step in front of the other as fast as possible.

Glowing eyes locked onto ones of the dead. Eilidh met that gaze in full, unbreaking—I’m a threat, leave me alone. Perhaps taking the hint or perhaps finding the action as a bluff, the creature returned to its half-finished meal. But instead of flesh, hair was the food of choice. Interesting. The large and impressive figure, the hair covering every inch, the selective diet. Why did this feel familiar? While the reciprocity was lost, she continued to stare, to watch. A thought started to form, a forgotten memory. Wiggling its way to the surface.

A grasping hand broke the recollection, slamming her back into reality, as the memory returned to the back of her mind. The sudden change left her momentarily disoriented; she moved to slap the offending hand on instinct. But a familiar voice came to her ears. Worry was clear in Nicole’s words, and for a moment a small pang of guilt rested in Eilidh’s chest for keeping her in this situation. Guilt quickly boiled into anger as her world turned topsy-turvy, body hoisted—unwillingly—onto Nicole’s shoulder. “Hey!” But the heated yell was cut short by the sight before her. The creature had entirely disregarded the body, choosing to pursue them instead. Usually if an animal discarded a meal, it was due to surrounding dangers, realization of spoiled parts, or a tastier option presented itself. The way the creature stared, as if trying to find her soul and judging her acceptable, at her and only her—it looked to be the third option. Sensation prickled down her spine. Maybe it was fear. But it was mostly excitement.

Feet crashed down onto the helpless ground. Hands reached out for her. Almost touching the strands of hair that whisked into view by the moving air. Before it could grab hold, the knife that still sat gripped in her hand struck out, hitting the creature on the palm. “No.” It let out a bellow. The other enlarged hand shot out, quicker this time. Tension riddling the fingers, whether preparing for an attack or preparing to attack. But instead of striking again, Eilidh slashed at her own hair. A few pieces detached, floated in the hair for just a moment. Until they were swallowed whole. Momentarily stalled by the action, the two were able to gain some distance from the pursuing animal. But the moment passed, and it snapped its attention back to her. In turn, she craned her neck back to look at Nicole. “‘Preciate the help but let me down.” There was no reason to drag Nicole into this. So, she started to wiggle out of the grip, but found the hold stronger than anticipated. Huh? Another attempt was made; more force was applied, but not much changed. A growl escaped her: a pinned animal. Kicking and scratching wasn’t off the table. 

The monster decided to follow them. Of course it did. Why would anything be easy when it could be a shitshow? Navigating an unknown part of the woods was never simple, even for Nicole who always seemed to find her way around the trickiest of forests. Doing so while giant feet made the floor shake underneath them sure added difficulty to the experience. “Stop! Moving!” Carrying Eilidh on her shoulder while she tried to fight the beast? really pushing it. And— why was she trying to fight the creature? Nicole didn’t know. Being stupidly reckless had to be a requirement for the job. The monster was hot on their tails, and judging by Eilidh’s roar it had managed to touch her. Why was it obsessed with her? She just squeezed the woman tightly and focused all her energy on not taking a false step, because it would be the end of them if she did. For some reason, the giant steps halted briefly and Nicole didn’t hesitate to twist between trees, making it harder for it to follow. Blood pounding in her ears, all she knew was that she had to keep going, until they reached ground even enough to run at full speed. Then she’d find the jeep she left at the entrance of the trail and they’d be safe. 

Initially she didn’t hear Eilidh’s complaint, her attention narrowed to one particular goal: escaping. It was only when she to wiggle her way out of her grip that her focus shifted. She huffed. Fuck that, if she was gonna run back to fight the beast, she wasn’t letting her touch the ground again. But as Eilidh twisted with more persistence she relented, forgoing any gentleness before she put her back down. She gripped Eilidh by the shoulders, standing tall to shield her in case the beast pounced again. “What the fuck were you thinking?” she panted harshly, but worried eyes scanned the woman’s hair. What kind of beast had that fucked up diet? “We need to warn—” at the distance, it was hard to miss that the creature was on the move again. What were they going to do? Wait and attack now prepared with a plan, or retreat? Her mind was made up, she wanted to go, but she was not going to leave Eilidh behind. She had the means to outrun the beast again if it came down to it. She met the woman’s gaze, regretting the words already forming in her head. “Whatever it is that you’re— that’s already going through your fucking head... it’s gonna include me, no matter how insane. So... all I’m saying is— really think about it”.

Wish granted, Eilidh was plopped onto the ground. But before she could turn attentions back to the pursuing beast, hands were placed firmly upon her shoulders. Pinned again. But a growl did not escape like before. It was tempted to, as Nicole’s sharp words greeted her ears, making herself sharp, prickly as well. “How ‘bout you–” But when she looked up, saw the worry in Nicole’s eyes, she couldn’t fuel the irritation for much longer. She paused for a moment—not sure how to answer the question. She had just been… reacting. And it was no time to try and come up with any form of reason. Thud, thud, thud, the creature’s feet banged against the helpless floor, tremors underfoot growing stronger as it closed the distance. Thuds like the tick of a watch, each sound indicating their time was running out.

Legs itched to run, to act, to no longer be stuck waiting and pondering, but that hold on her shoulder still remained. But it no longer acted as an anchor; with Nicole’s words, it became a link, binding the two together. Acting on the first thought that moved to the forefront—since Nicole insisted on involving herself—she placed the blade back against her hair. It cut into her braid, severing the end from the rest. With the secured ribbon removed, her hair unfurled, wild and untamed against her neck, and several inches shorter than earlier that day. She handed the detached braid to Nicole. “I’ll go left. You go right. Lead the fucker so far into the woods no one will see ‘em again.” She smacked her lips. “Hopefully.” The creature was reaching out for her again, two meters away, then one, then none. Before it gained a hold of her, she leapt back. In its momentum it stumbled forward, trying to make that sharp corner but long limbs prevented such agility. Not waiting for it to regain its footing, she turned to run, back amongst trees. “Keep ‘em off me and I’ll keep ‘em off you!” Her yell bounced off the trees, the only reminder of her presence as she disappeared into the darkness. 

Nicole was firm on her decision. She was not going to play hero again. She was not. She was n— except, even in the dim light she could tell that Eilidh was absolutely thinking about going back. Fuck. She flinched at her swift move, not expecting the woman to lift her blade again and slash her own hair. “Jesus, what—” she raised her hands to stop her, but she ended up grabbing her braid instead. Nicole stared at it with a blank expression, unsure on how to feel.  Thanks? She didn’t have time to process any of it, because Eilidh was talking again, this time to explain her plan. “You—you want me to…” brows furrowed, she waited in silence for more details, until she realized there was nothing more to the plan. It was short and straightforward. Confuse the fuck out of the beast. She would be doing her job, really. Keeping visitors safe by running the creature off. She understood then, the meaning of Eilidh’s hair in her hand: the scent would attract the creature to her, while her partner did the same on the other side. It was smart enough. At least they wouldn’t be trying to fight against it. 

She let out an exasperated sigh, realizing she was already convinced. There wasn’t certainty that the creature wouldn’t come back, lured by the scent of corpses, but if they could do their part to keep it as far away from the trails and the visitors’ cameras, it was worth a shot. The floor shook again and Nicole knew there was no time to discuss anything else. She watched Eilidh escape the creature’s grasp and take off in the opposite direction, following her part of the plan. All by herself, she wondered what was it about Eilidh's hair that made her so irresistible compared to her own. As they predicted, the giant monster went with its favorite. “Hey!” she called, lifting her hand and waving the braid. She took a few steps, preparing for a run, hoping it would be enough to get the beasts attention. Luckily for them, the creature stumbled and turned in her direction. Nicole had to keep the surprise to herself, jogging through the trees to keep the beast away from her colleague.  

Darkness began to envelop them again, the trees shielding the moonlight as they entered unknown territory. Even when Nicole could hardly see anymore, Eilidh’s light steps were easy to pick up in comparison to the rumbling caused by the beast. They just had to keep going— for how long? she wasn’t sure.

The creature was in pursuit, mirroring Eilidh’s pace step for step. But its gait was wider, legs a great pine to her samplings. The space between shortened with each thud of its feet, shortened even further as those desperate arms reached out. Just as fingertips grazed the hairs on the nape of her neck—threatening to close, caught in its trap—her own trap sprung. Nicole baited the creature her way, the same enticing hairs, her hairs, waving in the air. The creature followed. As the same fate began to fall upon Nicole, Eilidh beckoned it her way. It followed again. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Delicious hairs always so close and yet so far. Equally compelled to chase both, it found itself somewhere in the middle: never able to meet, never able to feed. Eilidh stifled an amused snort as it came and failed once more to secure a hold on her. 

The darkness grew thicker, tighter. Sometimes it felt like she was stuck in an abandoned realm. A single dot in a sea of black expanse. The periodic calls of Nicole and the shake of the earth and the heavy breath from behind the only reminder there was more than just that small circle of trees her light illuminated ahead. Kept the darkness from becoming suffocating. That heavy breath grew labored, strained. The creature was growing tired of their game. It growled and snapped and barked out that strange call. But these sounds slowly grew distant. The space between them grew wider. Stubbornness and hunger forced it to continue, but feverish interest began to wane with its stamina. It would settle for anything. Now was their chance. “Throw the braid and let’s go!” Her direction turned, circling back to the beginning. Back to the light. 

It was pitch black. Nicole’s eyes darting in the dark desperate for any light. It was like running blindfolded and she wasn’t calm enough to use her other senses at best capacity. Not when they had a giant beast chasing them.  Blood pounded in her ears, knowing there was a solution. She could see in the dark, why wasn’t she doing it? Fueled by the adrenaline, she didn't have time for measured thinking, her temples burned demanding a switch. Amber eyes glowed in the dark forest, exposing the path in front of her. So much easier.  

Eilidh’s command reached her ears clearly, and Nicole didn't need to be told twice. She searched around, considering her options. She couldn’t imagine a braid traveling a long distance, instead she swung it upwards and prayed it would land on the top of the trees. The monster’s attention changed again, but she didn’t stay to see the results, as soon as the braid was released she turned, circling around the beast and heading back to where they came from. At least, the ground had stopped shaking. It was a good sign. She spared one last look behind her, just to confirm the beast was reaching for the top of the trees. Good. Maybe after the braid snack, the beast would settle for the corpses in the area, instead of following them back. She could only hope. 

With the threat gone, Nicole’s first thought was to switch back to her human vision. Eyes on the ground, she blinked fast and hoped for the best. The switch back was always a gamble. Sometimes she could get it down in seconds, other times required a lot more concentration. The fear she’d get stuck with those eyes was always present. That it would start with the eyes, and then the teeth, and then— fuck, now it wasn’t the time. She breathed out deeply, contracting the muscles her eye muscles. Only when it was pitch dark again, she slowed her pace, catching up with Eilidh on the other side. “Good plan...good plan” She breathed out, stopping herself in time before she did something stupid, like hug her. She really was relieved her colleague was in one piece. “Can’t complain about surprise cardio but—  enough for the night... I think. Can we... stick to the trails... from now on?”

Eilidh could hear footsteps approaching. But these did not shake the ground in their wake. These were fainter, friendlier, familiar. Her head turned, attention split between the trek onward and that steady advance. After a few moments, Nicole broke out of the darkness, into that circle of light. She smiled at the sight. “Good game!” She clapped an affectionate hand onto Nicole’s shoulder. Chuckle whistled out at her statement. “Sure thing.” As the excitement subsided, cravings twisted her stomach. And she noted the hints of exhaustion painted on Nicole’s movements, too. It was time for their departure. “Sounds like that Kera–” She blinked. Feet hesitated. “Kerashag.” Her hand now clapped against her face. While her conscious mind had been at work keeping her safe, her subconscious finally let that elusive memory slip out. Return to the surface. Sharing some enlightenment. It had been decades ago. It hadn’t even been her own tale. But she recalled a conversation with a zombie; one where she relayed her own incident with such a beast. A hair eater. A moth for death. It had harassed her just the same as the one Eilidh just faced. While the other woman was left with a bald head from the ordeal—she remembered how it glistened in the sunlight—Eilidh had managed to retain some of her hair.

“Fucking figures.” Eilidh mumbled under her breath. “Anyway. Sounds like they’re distracted. Let’s go before they want dessert.” Flashlight aimed at the ground, she scanned the surface for that change in texture. The light traveled across the grass, until the grass stopped, revealing dirt. Dirt that stretched onward into that darkness, until the darkness stopped too. Leading them back. She beckoned Nicole to follow as she hopped onto that trail, letting it return them to civilization.

It was reflex to smile back at Eilidh. The adrenaline was still coursing through her veins, she could bask in their success for a brief moment. It was nice, being helpful again. Even if the stakes were a lot higher than guiding someone through a trail. Nicole picked up on the hesitation, on the word that was uttered, but she kept her head down. She wasn’t going to ask. Not until they were back on the trail. She didn’t object as Eilidh voiced her exact thoughts. Better get the fuck away when their legs could still go.

The road back was understandably more quiet. Eilidh didn’t have time or energy for funny quips. And well, that was never Nicole’s thing. She did notice how her companion’s heart didn’t seem to be pounding like her own, though. Undetectable. It reminded her of her friend Griffin. She wished to be as cool under pressure as them. 

There were no more surprises for them on the way back, and soon enough they were back on the original path. Their vehicle had to be close. Nicole couldn’t wait to be back at the station. It was hard to erase the monster from her mind. She would’ve liked to shrug the experience off. Like she had in the past with other strange beasts. Just call them quirky White Crest things and roll with it. But she had to know, didn't she? She had to learn. Because the town was a dangerous place, and she couldn’t keep turning a blind eye. She didn’t want to get hurt again. She didn't want to lose more things. “So… kera what?” her voice broke the silence. She nudged back to the forest, where she first heard her utter that word. She decided to give the woman the option to pass on the question, giving a one shoulder shrug. “Sounded like you knew what the fuck that was, that’s all”.

The thrill of the chase waned, and in lieu of an ache—such a rare thing for Eilidh to feel—her legs grew heavy under her own weight. Hunger pricked at her stomach. The smell of that corpse like a phantom in her nose, calling her back with its intoxicating memory. But turning around would lead her all the way back to that and repeat the cycle all over again. Despite the logic, the temptation still bubbled inside her, and if Nicole weren’t near, she might’ve tried her luck. Who cares about being bald if it meant scoring an easy meal—perhaps meals considering the creature’s proclivities. But it was less fun utilizing such a method, and with that deciding thought, the urge went away. Her focus returned to the trail, to the station that waited for them at the end.

Eilidh chuckled into the crisp night air. “Kerashag. They eat–” Dead almost slithered from her lips, but she quickly bit into the word before it could manage. “–hair and nails. Don’t know much else ‘bout them. Beyond the nice example we just got.” Her head motioned to the darkness, to where the forest was ever vast, to where that creature still lurked. “Glad to be back on the force?” There was a genuine, albeit playful, curiosity in her question. But it also served as a distraction. 

The moonlight filtered through the trees with more intensity as they began approaching their starting point. It was a testament to how deep they ventured, that they still couldn’t see the lights from surrounding camping sites. Nicole glanced at her partner, noticing the exhaustion on her face with more clarity. Then, she noticed the mismatched length of her hair. For a blade cut it was pretty decent, she almost said out loud. “Kerashag” she repeated awkwardly, word foreign in her tongue. Her face wrinkled with disgust. So she wasn’t imagining the weird diet then. Why go for corpses then, and why was Eilidh’s hair more alluring? Should she be offended? “No Bigfoot... fucking knew it” she added, letting out a huff. She decided to ignore the rest of the questions forming in her head. She had a name, and that was enough for now. 

A laugh caught in her throat when Eilidh broke the silence. Her smile grew. The woman’s tone made her feel welcome. But as she processed the meaning behind the words, her expression began to falter. Nicole considered the doubts that filled her the moment the beast appeared. Her reluctance to investigate. The fear coursing through her at the thought of Eilidh getting hurt. She bit the inside of her cheek, stomach sinking with dread. It was probably too soon. Maybe she should’ve stayed doing office hours. That was it. That’s why she still felt shaky in the legs, right? It would probably take her some time to feel like herself again. “Yeah, yeah—” she cleared her throat, voicing her own conclusion. “Hoping for less action next time, though...still rusty” she spotted their vehicle at the distance, nodding her head towards it. They’d be back at the station soon, safe from what lurked in the woods. Safe from the questions she had to start asking herself.

[angelsswirl]

Slide

Summary: You're the 5th member of BLACKPINK. You're in the middle of practicing for your solo stage when your dance partner has to back out. Lisa, being the fantastic best friend that she is, decides to help you practice.

Rating: Mature for smut and language

Word Count: 2k+

Requested: No

Notes: This was just something that was begging to be written. If you would like to request for BLACKPINK please send in an ask! Girl x Girl pairings only please. Anyway, enjoy!

Doin' our thing, movin' too fast Candy paint with the windows all black

To say you had been looking forward to your first solo stage was an understatement. You were bounds passed excited and any other possible synonym.

You loved your members more than words could say, but you had longed for the chance to showcase your passion for dancing to your fans. And, expectedly, your members were very supportive.

So, when you got the news that you were to do a solo stage for some award show you didn't bother listening for, you began to practice as hard and as frequently as you possibly could.

Your dance partner, a boy you had known since your trainee days and who was now a choreographer for YGE, had also been very helpful throughout the process. The dance that you two had generated was rather sexy, and never once did he make you uncomfortable.

You're sure that if you weren't head over heels for someone else, you would be with him. He was the perfect gentleman. Well, he was a perfect gentleman when he wasn't half an hour late for your session.

You glared into the mirror as you stretched for the fourth time within the last fifteen minutes. You swiped imaginary dust off of your black biker shorts, then did the same to your plain white air force 1s. He chose today of all days to be late. Today you were supposed to film your dance practice.

You stood in front of the mirror for twenty more agonizing seconds before giving up and grabbing your phone out of your jacket pocket. You frowned at the lint that had collected on the screen and wiped it off on your tank top.

You had one message from Jisoo, asking what you wanted for dinner. That was it.

You huffed as you opened your message app, bypassing Jisoo's message and reaching your thread with Lino.

You: Oppa!! Where are you?! You know I don't think it's cute or endearing when you're late!

Lino: Oh sorry, babe! So, funniest thing happened. I sprained my ankle playing basketball this morning. I could've sworn I texted you earlier but I guess the painkillers are effecting more than just my ankle😭🤪

You: oh no, Li! Are you okay? How am I supposed to practice now?

Lino: I'm fine, Y/N/N. I'll be back to normal before the stage. And not that you need to practice anymore, but don't worry, I called in some reinforcements.

You were in the middle of asking him what could that possibly mean, when a knock sounded from behind.

"There you are, unnie, I've been looking all over for you."

You tried to fight off a blush.

Lino: you're welcome in advance. and make sure not to do anything I wouldn't do.😉

You refrained from asking what he meant by that, if only because the owner of the voice was slowly approaching you.

You placed your phone back onto your pile of belongings in the corner of the room. You then spun on your heels to face the girl who had just entered the practice room.

"Why were you looking for me?"

Lisa stopped moving toward you, "Lino didn't tell you? He asked me to replace him for the day. Which I found weird because I'm pretty sure he knows I hate him."

You giggled at the younger girl, it was indeed a well known fact around YG that Lisa couldn't stand Lino on a good day. It was especially funny to you, considering your member normally liked everyone she met.

"Why do you hate him so much?" You blushed again at the frown that question resulted in. It was clear Lino was a sore subject, but you and the rest of your members had never been privy to why exactly.

Maybe if you knew, you could solve the problem for the both of them. Then everyone would be happy. And that's all you wanted. For Lisa to be happy.

"....It's childish. Don't worry about it." Lisa crossed her arms over her chest. Her incredibly large flannel wasn't doing much to cover the fact that she was only wearing a Calvin Klein bra underneath. In contrast, her baggy sweatpants left much to the imagination. You only tried not to stare.

Your crush on Lisa was well documented by Jennie, Jisoo, and Rosé. The only person that hadn't seem to notice was Lisa. Hell, even Lino knew.

In hindsight, you're not really sure how you ever could've stopped yourself from falling for her. She was beautiful, talented, passionate, and possessed a sense of humor that, admittedly, could be better but she was cute! You love her. You never stood a chance. She just doesn't know it, and you didn't plan on telling her anytime soon.

"Well, if you hate him so much why'd you do him a favor?"

"I'd do anything for you."

You choked on a gasp. Lisa didn't seem too fazed by what she had said, but you were as fazed as one could ever be.

You cleared your throat, "Well, that's nice of you. But, you don't know the choreography and the camera guy is supposed to get here in 55 minutes."

"Of course I know the choreography. Lino sent me a video about half an hour ago." Lisa looked mildly offended that you thought she wouldn't learn an entire routine in just half an hour for you.

"And you're okay with that? It's a pretty sexy dance and you'd be doing the "boy" part." At this point you were practically begging for her to change her mind. You don't think you could handle being that close to Lisa alone.

"I think I'll be able to manage." Lisa smirked and stuffed her hands in her sweats pockets.

You nodded silently.

Okay, Y/N. You can do this. She's just your best friend who you're in love with. It doesn't mean anything when you grind onto her just like it doesn't mean anything with Lino.

You took a deep breath, "Okay, lets get started. Did you stretch?"

Lisa queued up the music on the stereo with a laugh, "I've been dancing all day. I think I'm as limber as a slinky at this point."

So much for your last ditch attempt at stalling.

"You ready?" The slightly taller woman offered up her hand to you. You took it with a short nod. Okay, if you can't trust yourself, hopefully you can trust Lisa.

"Great." Lisa backed away from you as the first thirty seconds of the song was just you.

She pressed a singular button on the remote and the music began. As soon as it did, you were consumed by the music and even managed to forget Lisa was behind you, watching you intensely.

All you wanna do is gas me How we end up in the backseat? Just tryna get to the bag We on the same page, you the same way

You body rolled probably more intensely than you normally did. You told yourself it was because you were practicing for when the camera man arrived and not because Lisa was watching you.

Baby, when we gon' slide? Hey, hey Up all night, baby, when we goin' slide? Oh, yeah, yeah Baby, when we goin' slide? Slide, slide, slide, slide

As soon as Lisa sidled up to you, you gulped heavily. She had barely even participated yet and you were already thinking less than appropriate thoughts.

Thoughts like what would it be like if she turned you around and pushed you up against the wall. Or worse, the mirror.

Her body rolled in times with yours, at times it seemed like you two fit perfectly together like a puzzle piece. It also goes to show just close you actually were to each other.

She began to guide you into the next move. Her arm wrapped around your waist as you pivot in a circle together. The move involved you being crouched so low to the ground that you're practically sitting on her lap.

And the worst part about it, it's become at least 20 degrees hotter in the room, and you can't tell if Lisa has even noticed.

Then again, maybe the warm wisp breath tickling your ear said otherwise.

Eventually, the music came to an end, but Lisa had yet to retreat from your back. You feel fortunate that you're facing away from the mirror, because you definitely would have gotten attached to that picture.

"Lisa..." You whispered breathily. You're sure the lack of air in your lungs has to do with Lisa still being pressed up against your back, holding you.

"I don't think I want you doing that with anyone else ever again." She whispered softly into your ear.

You stayed silent, you don't trust your voice.

"Are you and Lino..." Her voice trailed off, but you knew what she had intended to say.

"No."

"Good."

And before you can even think of anything to maybe choke out in response, her lips are attached to yours in a kiss that would probably take your breath away if you were ever breathing when she was near.

"Lisa."

"You've been doing this on purpose, haven't you, unnie?"

Her lips travelled down your neck leaving fire in their wake. You rolled your head back, your head coming into contact with the wall length mirror.

"D-doing what?"

"Trying to make me jealous." You felt her hands slowly trail down your body. One landed on your hip, while the other harshly cupped your center through your shorts.

You let out a strangled groan.

"You have to be quiet, unnie. Wouldn't want to be caught like this, now would you?"

You could practically feel yourself get wetter by the second. You didn't want to be caught with your member's hand down your shorts, but then again the thought was just so hot.

Lisa traced the outline of your center. Your hips bucked at the sensation. The other dancer only chuckled. You sort of felt like you were being punished for something you weren't aware of doing.

"Lisa, I nee-

She cut you off with a searing kiss. You nipped at her bottom lip. She moaned in response. Your hands that had since been resting precariously around her neck, slid to her exposed bra.

Lisa choked back another groan, "No, Y/N, this is only about you tonight."

The hand of hers that wasn't teasing your pussy mercilessly, guided your arms above your head.

"You know, if you wanted me to fuck you, you could've just asked."

You really wished she would stop talking. You're already drenched beyond belief, and she hadn't even actually touched you yet.

You feel a hand slide under your bra at the same time that Lisa finally dipped her fingers under your shorts.

"Fuck, where are you panties?" Lisa moaned.

You didn't bother to answer.

You moaned obscenely as Lisa slowly stroked over your outer lips, easily slipping through.

"You're soaked." She circled your clit slowly, watching with a small smirk as your hips flexed and buck underneath her hand.

You were panting now, Lisa was exactly where you wanted her, yet you were still being teased. Your hips move on their own accord, trying to force Lisa to to slip inside of you.

"Lisa, please."

Lisa continued to trail her fingers through slick folds. She soon decided she might as well give you what you wanted, you two were running out of time the longer she tortured you.

Her finger slipped into you easily, the resulting moan is the loudest one yet and just as sinful as the previous ones. You were trying your best to be quiet, but it was hard when you're deepest fantasies were coming true, and everything just felt so darn good.

Lisa eyed your face through her eyelashes. Your hips buckled once again and Lisa took that as her queue to resume moving.

She pulled out then, pushed back in slowly, her palm catching on your swollen clit.

You whimpered and panted, urging Lisa to pick up speed. And she happily obliged. She added a second finger and entered you again.

"You look so hot like this."

She pumped into you about as hard as the angle she was at let her, but it seemed to be enough for you. You rolled your hips against Lisa's hand, your moans increasing in pitch and volume until Lisa muffled you without another passionate kiss.

"Fuck, Lisa!"

It's not much longer that you let go into Lisa's hand. You breathed deeply and your back arched away from the mirror. Bringing you even closer to Lisa than you already were. She stroked you idly as you came down from your high.

When your senses finally returned to you, you smiled at the woman in front of you. Then you slapped her arm.

"Ow. What was that for?!" Lisa rubbed at her arm with a pout. You rolled your eyes at her dramatics.

"For making me think you didn't like me back! This entire time I thought this was completely one-sided." It was your turn to pout. You even crossed your arms for good measure.

"You didn't ask." Lisa shrugged.

You glared at her.

"Okay, I'm sorry, but what was I supposed to say? 'Unnie, I've had a crush on you since we met, please go on a date with me, and stop talking to Lino. I hate him.' That sounds stupid."

"I love you, I wouldn't have thought it was stupid." You fixed your hands on the collar of her flannel.

"You love me?"

"Yeah. Probably since we met and you tripped and fell right in front of me." You giggled at the memory. Lisa rolled her eyes, but blushed.

"I love you, too. Probably since we met and I tripped and fell right in front of you and you didn't laugh at me like everyone else did."

You only ducked your head down to smile softly at the floor.

"Go on a date with me." Lisa more stated than asked.

"I thought you'd never ask."

Ooh I got five, you know it's all live Tell me when to go, baby, when we gon' slide?

[c0smicheaux]

Eleventh House in the signs

Aries-

When the eleventh house begins in Aries, things are never peaceful in this person’s social life. There are always new acquaintances waiting down the road, and this can make their approach a bit superficial because of the certainty life will always bring someone new our way. It will be easy to make friends but a little hard to hold on to them for very long. Boundaries need to be set and respected, as well as the dedication that flows both ways in order for their relationships to last. As if their God spoke through energy of Aries, these individuals often see life as a battlefield or a game that needs to be won. Once they open up to the Universal thought, they will realize where their energy lies and how to use it, show initiative, and move forwards just as they wish to.

Taurus-

The eleventh house in Taurus speaks of the importance of social life for a person’s material satisfaction. This doesn’t mean their relationships with friends have anything to do with money, although they easily could, but rather that the satisfactions of the Earth are recognized through them. They will learn about their senses through social contacts and often have many stable, loving and tender relationships that last a lifetime. This is a typical position for individuals who truly know how to nurture people they love, without unrealistic expectations, holding on to practical values and morals. There are no false pretenses here, for they wouldn’t last, and natural approach is the one that is easiest to incorporate into their life. Their deep desire for love, peace and emotional stability is so strong that it often doesn’t allow them to change in a proper time or the right way. If they remain flexible, this is a promise of joy and financial security at old age.

Gemini-

With the eleventh house in Gemini, we see someone who wishes to communicate has something to express and always finds several persons to listen. Friendships are fast, exciting and adventurous. There is always a lot to discuss and think about, while brainstorming is the most satisfying activity in their social encounters. On the downside, they can become too superficial out of their need to remain free of solid bonds, and while they would want to have enlightening encounters, they become less satisfying as they shut off their emotional side. The important thing to remember with this position is the importance of self-expression and our brothers and sisters, no matter if we have any from the same parents, or we have cosmic ones in our surroundings. For as long as ambition doesn’t make these individuals too static and committed to work, they should find the time to enjoy the benefits of this airy eleventh house.

Cancer-

If the eleventh house begins in Cancer, everyone in this person’s family will feel like friends. This is a strange position as the eleventh house should be there to free us from our emotional ties, but this is not the case here. These individuals have strong feelings for those they socialize with, have heightened senses around other people and treat others with empathy. However rational they might seem to be, there is something warm in their approach. The desire of the eleventh house in Cancer is in emotional awareness, acceptance and peace. In order to find it, they will have to embrace their emotional depths, however flawed they might seem. The truth is they deserve a calm, serene place in their hearts and minds, but their genetic inheritance stands in the way too often. If they haven’t been told they are beautiful, smart and special often enough when they were children, they should make self-affirmation a regular part of their daily routine.

Leo-

With the eleventh house in Leo, the image of friendships easily becomes more important than actual friends. On one hand, this is obviously a very important issue in a person’s life, and on the other, they tend to socialize only with people who make them look good. Self-recognition comes through other people and it can be difficult to steer clear of control and people who impose their will and show disrespect. The key to creating healthy relationships with this position is to put everyone’s individuality to focus. This doesn’t mean one should neglect their own inner being, but rather that each relationship formed should have a deep personal understanding and respect. Once they realize how each of their friends or siblings is special, without becoming envious or strangely tied to them as if they should become someone else, they will start to surround themselves by honest people with warm hearts. Desired respect can be hard to reach if they don’t have enough respect for themselves.

Virgo-

When the eleventh house is set in the sign of Virgo, there is often something wrong with friends this person finds. While in the best possible light this could show friends who are healers, truly intelligent and incredibly dedicated to their cause, in most cases it also speaks of betrayal of some kind and people who aren’t adequate to fulfill a person’s needs. There is always a question of what is truly deserved here, and it is typical for them to consider themselves unworthy of honest social contacts who as similar to them as they should be. Usually, a lot of time will pass before they realize who they need to be around with, and this comes with age and experience if they don’t close their heart entirely because of several bad wounds. The greatest wish for those born with their eleventh house in Virgo is to be grounded, practical and caring. Lucky for them, this can be reached through inspiring relationships, healthy routine and everyday simplicities of life.

Libra-

The eleventh house likes to be in Libra for its communication issues are focused on important relationships making it easy to form social contacts. However, the sign of Libra itself doesn’t exactly enjoy this position leading to too many changes in their emotional life, as well as breakups or divorce if they haven’t chose a partner who is both their friend and their lover combined. The search for balance these people need becomes clear in their relationships, emotional, social or professional. It is never easy to find it though, and they will jump from one serious social bond into another, in long time periods, as if they had no intention to settle for a friendship that isn’t perfect. The problem is - there is no such thing as a perfect person in this world, unless if you observe the entire humanity as a manifest of perfection. While these individuals reflect in their friends, they will never be happy this way if they don’t accept the imperfections in human nature.

Scorpio-

While many would think that the eleventh house in Scorpio is quite difficult and bonding, we shouldn’t forget that the sign of Scorpio is the sign of the exaltation of Uranus and speaks of the best friends we could find. Friendships in Scorpio represents our deep bonds for life, and they will be hard to achieve, build up, but extremely satisfying every step of the way. The depth these relationships are approached in is extreme and not always easy to comprehend. The preconditions for any true bond here are brutal honesty and the ability to turn to dark humor in the time of need. Individuals born with this position wish to reach emotional depth they don’t recognize within, and they are often not fully aware of this need. Their road in life will be based on reasonable choices and things they can cold-heartedly achieve, but their real goals will never be easy or at the palm of their hand if they don’t deal with family issues and emotional blockages they made along the way.

Sagittarius-

If the eleventh house is in the sign of Sagittarius, people who surround this person are benefactors, teachers, travelers, and open-minded friends who don’t mind differences in opinions, education or race. This is an inviting position as it speaks of all good men and women who have a lot to give, teach, and learn at the same time. Their friends can overdo the favors and the problem that appears in these souls will come from the inability to achieve anything alone. Once this person starts relying on others for help, they will wonder too far from their own character and burden those who wanted to show good faith. This is a wonderful position for all those special souls who came to this planet to reconnect with the Universe. God will speak to them as they breathe together with planet Earth, and find incredible joy in meditation and new techniques that will help them shape their future.

Capricorn-

When the eleventh house begins in Capricorn, friendships last, filled with patience and the sense of obligation. Without a strong basis, there is little that can be done to improve social life, and they need to be surrounded with those who come highly “recommended” by those they already trust. This is a closed circle of friends, as a loop that may last forever. Still, Capricorn doesn’t bring much joy into any house, and especially not in the eleventh. One will have to reach structure, have an organized schedule, and dedicate their life to finding the right balance that will keep them healthy and situated. Karmic friendships are typical here, and those a person is bound to form a strong bond with will feel familiar. Close friends met this person in the past, with their lives intertwined in a loop of karmic debt or reward.

Aquarius-

The eleventh house in Aquarius speaks of liberation a person needs. Slaves to our unhealthy routines, choices, habits and relationships, these people will have a clear wish to be free and expressed as exactly themselves in their society. While humane and righteous in their approach, they will rarely be brave enough to endure in their chases, unless if the Sun is extremely well set in a personal chart. This is a position that gives as many friends as we need, to be there for us, wake us up, and help us find our connection to the Universal thought. If the positioning is extremely difficult, they become aware of the direct link they have to the skies above and wish to go there before their time. In most cases, however, this is a position that allows individual growth through the group and gives the opportunity to truly become enlightened and free.

Pisces-

When the eleventh house is in the sign of Pisces, friendships are hazy and unclear. This is a person who has a task to find faith in others and it will always come with challenges and difficulties in their way. If they believe enough to spread love without many expectations, they could find those several soulmates that were deserved through previous lifetimes. Purity is the key to solid relationships, and with Pisces everything is prone to change and endings. Many friendships will begin only to end, pushing this person in the right direction. Others will be kept at a certain distance and lack intimacy. What these people need to do is sink in, and give in to every relationship that feels good without fear of betrayal or loss. If their friends are supposed to end up at sea, on another continent, or in their dreamland, this is fine for as long as they share an emotional bond wherever they are.

Source; astrology-zodiac-signs dotcom

[tragedybunny]

Naming Day

Swain wants to do something special for his wife Katarina, but finds out it is easier thought than done. Takes place after my story "The Blade's Edge"

I just wanted an excuse to write something sappy and fluffy about these two. I hope it works in that capacity.

A decent husband would recall his spouse’s Naming Day. That is the truth as espoused by those most intimately acquainted with living in matrimonial harmony. And for once, I intended to prove I was capable of being a decent husband. I am, of course, not one to indulge in celebrations of a spurious nature, Naming Days being one of the foremost of those. In times long past, the Noxii tribes would not name their children until they had survived their first year, marking the occasion with much celebration. As this tradition was passed down, the time grew shorter, and no one really withheld a name in the current time. However, a notion occurred to me as I overheard the bragging amongst a number of the Officers of High Command about the celebrations for their recent progeny. Marking the occasion would probably be appreciated by my dearest wife, and I rarely had the opportunity to indulge her.

Mere seconds later that thought was followed by a terrible realization, the source of doubts about my status as a decent husband. I had no idea when Kat’s Naming was. The notion tormented me as I hurried back to my office, a tactical retreat to plan my next move. Surely she must have mentioned it at some point. Was I not paying attention or had I simply forgotten? After bolting the door behind me, I settled into the chair behind my desk, desperately needing to think.

After an hour of stern concentration, and even inquiring of my birds, I still had no answers. Cold realization washed over me, I couldn’t remember my wife’s Naming Day. The battle was not entirely lost though. She had not been angry with me for any reason I had not discerned, so if I followed logic, it implied that I had not yet missed it. There was still one route to victory left to me, a strategic reserve as it were. Noxian records were unparalleled and went back ages. There was no way a Du Couteau birth in the years of Darkwill went undocumented. I would have to go myself though, I couldn’t trust this to anyone else.

With Kat out on an assignment, and the sense of urgency I felt, there was no better day to accomplish this task. As soon as the last dispatch of edicts and orders left my office, I hurried off. The records hall was just concluding its daily business as I arrived. “I have personal business to attend to, leave me.” The stunned clerk vanished as I waved him away. My steps quickly took me through the endless maze of shelves and cabinets, laden with registry books and rolls of parchment, to the section that should contain the correct date. With trepidation, I assessed my adversary, a near endless amount of paper, and felt a sigh leave my throat. Truthfully, I couldn’t place the year either. I could narrow it down, but still, the task would be daunting. Should I have asked for the clerk’s aid? Would it have been worth the embarrassment? The Grand General cannot figure out his wife’s Naming Day or birth year. With a frustrated growl, my left fist slammed into the wood of the nearest shelf and it buckled, making a distinct popping noise. It would seem I fell short again, a pattern I’m tiring of.

But I had to know the year, I...I’d been at the damned celebration. At the time it hadn’t been very remarkable, I had little interest in the Naming of an infant. Marcus had been a friend however, and our two families had long been allies. It was enough of an occasion that my parents had insisted on my attendance, even if I was only on a short leave from my fledgling military career. A memory floated to the surface of my mind, as though summoned at last by my concentration. Marcus spies me from across the room and rushes over, a smile adorning his features and a tiny bundle in his arms. “Jericho, you made it! Here, you must hold her.” That bundle is passed to me before I can utter a protest. I stare down at the cooing little thing, green eyes wide and locked on me, a dusting of red hair matching Marcus’s adorning her head. For just a moment I think perhaps infants are not so terrible after all. And then she screams at me, the wretched little brat, with such force and fury that Marcus quickly snatches her back.

It could be a humorous memory I suppose, but my teeth dug into my lip as I was reminded of exactly how much difference there was in our ages. So, just to make a clear assessment of my current position, I don’t know my wife’s Naming Day or birth year, and I’ve just been reminded I’m old enough to be her father. What a miserable set of circumstances.

Lucretia had laughed though. Another unbidden memory from somewhere deep inside, the place where I’d buried all remnants of her. I clenched my fists and willed myself not to feel the burning in my chest that accompanied it. “Lucretia.” The whisper filled the empty air around me. It had been the last laugh we would share, she would be gone in mere months, my first companion and friend, my sister. I remembered the year now.

It was easy enough at that point to find the correct registry containing all the high born births for that year, and from there, the Du Couteau name within. Ah, a solid victory at last, it was not for some weeks. We hadn’t been living together at the time last year, so perhaps it just hadn’t come up. I doubted the likeliness of that scenario, but either way, this year was sorted. We’d been busy enough planning for the wedding we never had that a small celebration would be a welcome break.

When the day had at last arrived, I felt a small touch of pride. I’d considered the notion of something more extravagant, but in the end, I’d thought she’d appreciate time where my attention was focused solely on her, where she didn’t have to share me with the Empire. It was something we both understood would be a rarity, but she never resented that fact. So, to that end, I’d planned an intimate evening at home, and handed Darius all authority until sunrise. Her gift was tucked away in the small wooden chest it had arrived from Piltover in. Dinner was arranged to be all of her favorites, starting with Cress’s seafood bisque and ending with a confection laden with strawberries. The bottles of her favorite Shuriman red had been brought up and placed on the table.

When I greeted her at the door, her surprise was evident. “Home on time for once?” I knew she didn’t intend it with malice, still, I was reminded of my fears that one day, she would no longer tolerate this life.

“I can always work in my study if you decide to keep up the sass, Kitten.” At that, she bounded into my arms with enough force to knock me back a step. After a lifetime of war and ruthless ambition, I’m not a man who deserves to be loved like this, but I’m selfish to cling to it as tightly as possible. “Shall we?” I held out my arm and she took it with the soft, slight smile that I know is mine alone. The dining room door lay open, revealing the first course on the table, and the cake awaiting us at the center. She inhaled a soft breath and turned to me, eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Jericho.”

Looking down, I brought up my hand to cup her cheek softly. “Kat, I wanted to make this evening something wonderful for you and show you how much I cherish you. Happy Naming Day, my love.”

I leaned down for a soft kiss, which she absent-mindedly returned. Panic clutched at me, she was not pleased. Perhaps she had expected more? The wooden box on the table offered some hope, and I led her to it. After opening the lid, I carefully withdrew what was inside and set it before her. The finely carved crystal reflected the gas lamps and set hundreds of small glowing motes of light on the walls and ceiling. Two figures stood at the top of it, frozen in a moment. One turn of the small handle in the back and they began to move, the room filling with the soft tone of a waltz.

Still, she stood rigidly, saying nothing. “It’s the waltz from our first dance, that night at Solstice.” I offered, my heart rending in two. I had botched this somehow. All the careful planning, all my lofty intentions, it was all coming to naught. Even when I put all my will into it, I could not be what she deserved. “If it doesn’t please you I could find something else. I know it isn’t grandiose, perhaps it was a poor …”

“I love it.” She cut me off, but the melancholy in her tone did little to convince me it was the truth.

Moving in closer, I took her hand again. “I promise I won’t be upset if you don’t.”

“Did you realize you couldn’t remember when it was?” Her fingers entwined in mine, even as her eyes avoided me.

It would seem she had found me out. “Yes. I had to work it out. I’m sorry for forgetting.” Was that what she was upset about?

“You didn’t forget. I never told you.” The figurines stopped moving and she winded the handle again before finally turning to me. “I don’t celebrate my Naming.”

“Oh.” I’d still made a grievous error, just an entirely different one, it would seem.

Her gaze fixes back on the music box, the tune filling the silence between us. “When I was younger, just after Cassie was born, we stopped celebrating it. Father was away on campaign, this was before the move to Uzeris, and I excitedly went running to Mother the day of, asking how we would celebrate it. But she had Cassie now, and she looked at me with that cold look I would come to know so well, and replied that she was too busy with the baby. If I was old enough for Father to take away for training, I was too old for Naming Days, and that she would beat me if I continued to whine. I was five.” For a moment, she was quiet, staring into the distance. “You know what the worst part was? Father never said anything to the contrary when he returned.”

My own parents had been absent, cold, and ambitious to the detriment of all else, in many ways though, it was too typical of an upbringing in Noxian nobility. Kat though had experienced so much outright cruelty and intentional pain, I sometimes sensed I had not even scratched the surface of it. I wrapped myself around her until I could feel her head resting just under my chin, the place it felt like she was made to occupy. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stir up old hurts.” Though I wasn’t sure how, I felt as if I should’ve known better. All the secrets I’d seen, all my ability to be ten steps ahead of allies and adversaries, I should’ve figured this out. Desperately clinging to her, I kissed the top of her head.

“You know better, you can’t blame yourself. You’re not all-knowing, as much as you’d like the pretend.” Sadness still colored her words.

“A failure is still a failure, no matter the cause.” All I had wanted was one night to love her right. “I told you I would make a terrible husband.” My forced laugh did little to lighten things.

“Oh shut it, you’re wonderful.” Her arms tightened around me, making breathing difficult, but it was worth enduring. “You know what? Fuck her.” She looked up at me, that fire that I adore burning in her eyes. “She’s rotting in her empty manor, and I’m here with you, celebrating my Naming with the man I love.” There was a feral intensity to the kiss she suddenly pressed to my lips. “I won’t let her keep controlling me.”

In that moment, I doubted the gods themselves could control Kat if she put her mind to it. “Are you sure? You don’t have to force yourself.”

“I am. I don’t want to let the past ruin what we have right now.” There was no denying the conviction of those words.

I kissed her cheek and leaned in to whisper in her ear. “In that case, I do have further plans tonight that involve the two of us, another bottle of wine, and the bath.”

She inhaled sharply. “Only if it ends with the bed a wreck and both of us exhausted.”

“But of course, my love.” I kissed her deeply again, hands wrapping around her waist to keep her close. She really is the best thing that ever happened to me.