#the last two cases being the only ones i could mildly enjoy was crazy

[minothtime]

insane to me how danganronpa has some of the most interesting and uplifting speeches of all time, along with genuinely fun characters, and then it has the most dogshit fucking writing you could ever read for hours on end and characters so badly written that you sigh in relief when they're dead and gone

[deltaengineering]

Spring Anime 2023: It builds character

Yuri is my Job!

I really wanted to like this one. As a noted Marimite enjoyer, as much as I like the stilted, abstract and operatic vibe of Class S, I also always felt that it's also a prime avenue for metafiction that takes a closer look at how bizarre that setting really is when looked at from outside. So this show about a bunch of girls that have to act out Class S gayfabe in a themed cafe seemed to have limitless potential.

There's only two problems with Watayuri: The first one is that it's not that show. It does not really engage with its setting much and is mostly interested in just being straightforward heightened yuri drama. This seems to be a case of the Re:Zeros or Mob Psychos: The writer is intimately familiar with the tropes, but isn't really interested in actually engaging with them beyond surface level, so they just wrote essentially Another One Of Those with a few jokes.

So that's a disappointment, but since this genre is so rare in anime I'd still have gladly taken it if it was good. But... it's not. Not only is it not Metamite, it's not even a bad Marimite; It's more like a bad Citrus. Drama like this requires really good characters, and all the characters in Watayuri are gimmicky and shallow: Hime's base characteristic is that she puts up a fake personality, which is treated with all the nuance an isekai writer exhibits when they make their main character OP via giving them a cheat skill, and she has just forgotten than Yano used to be her best friend. All other drama derives from this bad idea, so none of it really works. I could go through the entire cast but this review is already too long, so suffice it to say, if they seem interesting that only lasts as long as it takes for their drama to arrive.

It's really a shame, because even with these simplistic, unlikeable characters you could have made an entertaining, (early) Kaguya-ish comedy — which is why the few instances where they do exactly that save the show from being worthless. But still, having to admit the best episode in the entire thing is the one where the new uniforms make Yano's breasts look too big really points out the problem here. 5/10

Skip and Loafer

Skip and Loafer does raise a profound question: Can a show be so much of a 6/10 that it becomes a 5/10? I'm honestly surprised how little I enjoyed this show, because there's nothing really obviously wrong with it: it's lighthearted, cute, amusing, relatable, etc., and I've enjoyed many a banal Kiraralike in the past. But in the end, I think the reason is that there really isn't anything substantive to Skip and Loafer. It's bland and inoffensive to a fault and devoid of anything even remotely edgy. It's not funny enough to work as a comedy, it's not a romance because it really doesn't commit to that, and we'll get to the "drama".

The only really driving factor (and the show's biggest asset, as it were) is Mitsumi's tryhard but good-natured personality, and that can only get the show so far, especially since all the character development she gets is to become more normal and boring. As an aside that doesn't really fit anywhere else: I also really dislike hearing the clipped, stilted way Kurosawa delivers her lines in this show, which is weird because she's usually a very good actress. Shima is just boring from the start and has no chemistry with Mitsumi, and when he imports some contrived crazy ex drama into the show at the end it's eyerollingly stupid, but hey, that's as close to "something happening" as the show ever gets. Not that it matters with how inconsequential it is. The supporting cast is generally mildly amusing, but they're just sort of there and don't offer anything meaningful besides their presence.

Sure, none of those issues are close to dealbreakers, but what's lacking is a deal in the first place. I can understand why someone would like the show and I would not recommend against it, but it's just way too shallow. Even for me. 5/10

Jigokuraku

If you want to know what's bad about Jigokuraku, here it is: Glacial pacing, an intense amount of jargonbabble, flashbacks in the middle of fights everywhere, running commentary by bystanders on everything that happens, random powerups galore, and no ending.

However, I would assume that nobody saw the first episode and went away thinking "oh boy, sure hope this isn't an extra edgy shounen fighting manga". It most definitely is what it is, but with expectations duly adjusted, Jigokuraku is... fine, actually. It's got cool visuals, good production values, a fantastic OP (if nothing else, the show's a good excuse to listen to that song once a week), and most importantly really good characters for a show like this. None of them are particularly deep, but when they're just there to:

Be mammals,

Fight ALL the time,

Have the purpose to flip out and kill people,

I'm already content if they're more interesting than the ISO standard Shounen Jump (i.e., Dragonball Z) cast. It's just fun seeing Sagiri fret over whether she's really good enough at beheading people, or Gabimaru doing everything for a wife that may or may not exist, or Yuzuriha getting out her... well, let's stop this here. This show is cool; and by cool, I mean totally sweet. 6/10

Otaku Edomae Elf

I was pretty skeptical of this one at the beginning, because self-serving otaku jokes tend to get very old and also because the author uses RPG Elves as a shortcut to "immortal ancient being", which isn't a sign of high ambitions, especially nowadays. And while the elf part doesn't really matter one way or the other, the majority of the show is indeed Elda being a nerd and doing nerd things. It's not a large majority though, and the rest of the show provides an interesting thematic framework to hang the jokes on. The real core of the show is the odd couple relationship between Koito and Elda, with the former desperately wanting to be an adult while the latter has been around for practically forever while still being completely immature. It's very cute and sweet, and it's even better in the occasional moments where it becomes bittersweet because both of them are well aware of the only way this can end up. Skip and Loafer take note: you don't have to have much, but you have to have something.

It of course helps that Edomae Elf (the name that I prefer, for obvious reasons) is well made; It's very expressive and has good comedic timing, which are the key factors for a sitcom like this. I'll also note the OP; it goes unreasonably hard and is possibly even better than Jigokuraku's. And even if otaku jokes are a low-hanging fruit, the show usually does a good job with them. The exactly one (1) legally obligated history lesson per half-episode feels a bit too forced though. And that's pretty much it with this anime, it's not the most ambitious but it's very charming and moderately thoughtful, even if its structure is holding it back somewhat. 7/10

Heavenly Delusion

Very rarely do we get a TV anime where the main artistic impulse just seems to be "we don't give a fuck what you think, lol", but here it is: Heavenly Delusion is mostly just wild. Sure, postapocalyptic roadmovies aren't exactly a new idea, but I usually like them, so that's a good start, and this one in particular comes with an interesting setting and a bunch of great characters. But what really elevates Heavenly Delusion is its command of tone, or in particular, its ability to run circles around tone issues. This show can snap from comedy to drama to mystery to action to horror unpredictably and quickly, and it's a marvel that any of this works at all, but on top of that it has a fondness for exceedingly touchy subjects and each episode could probably come with its own unique set of trigger warnings. It really reminds me of a Fire Force without the shounen bullshit, and that's high praise.

Clearly the writer has a lot of skill, but the anime direction and production takes it to the next level. Heavenly Delusion has great direction and movie-level production values throughout, and then does flexes like getting a bunch of KyoAni guys in to make a mawkish KyoAni episode that's better than anything KoyAni has made in years, and later getting a bunch of TRIGGER guys in to make a wacky TRIGGER episode that's better than anything TRIGGER has done in years. Ya love to see it.

But given all the hairy stuff this show attempts, it can't have a 100% success rate, right? And no, it does not always succeed. It's not even a surprise that it happens, it's rather a surprise it only happens so late, at the ending – where it hurts the most. For starters, it doesn't really have an ending. That's to be expected from an ongoing and long manga, but it's still a bummer. But more critically, said abrupt stoppage happens right after one of the grimmest arcs in the show. This is sadly the one point where the tone falls apart; they didn't want to end on a down note, but it just doesn't work to go from ultra rape o'clock to "our fun adventure continues, bye :D" in one and a half scenes. The show has dealt with heavy material before and it has proven it can pull off the swerve off, but in that instance it just runs out of air time before it can actually do it. So while it's unreasonable to expect the show to be several times as long as it is, it would at least have sorely needed one more episode to uncompress its ending. I guess that if you consistently play with fire, you get burnt eventually, but at least there were pretty lights. A second season would be much appreciated. 8/10

The Witch from Mercury

Back when G-Witch started its break, I said that "all they have to do was not mess with a good thing". Obviously, they messed with a good thing and Sulemio cuteness was replaced with them both suffering alone for the majority of the second half. So now what? The plot in this second half is best described as "messy". Notably, it's lacking in throughline: First it's all about opaque machinations and corporate backstabbing, then lol jk that doesn't matter and everyone pulls a Death Star out of their ass, and then that gets resolved with the Power of Love™ and vague Newtype mysticism. Gundams gonna Gundam, I suppose. Towards the end it also obviously runs out of time, and everything needs to happen very quickly, yet it still keeps on piling on subplots for various reasons — be it corporate franchise mandates like "we made a Schwarzette toy, now deal with it somehow", some thing that was set up ages ago that now has to pay off somehow no matter what (like Notrette's whole deal) or just the pure mechanics of shuffling pieces into place for something that never needed to be this complicated in the first place.

However, despite this large-scale jank G-Witch still ends up a very good show purely based on its writing detail. It doesn't really matter all that much that scenes barely fit together and are jammed against each other without connective tissue when the scenes themselves almost always deliver on their own terms. In particular, G-Witch consistently has great character moments no matter how weird the route to get to them is. That dumb Lauda subplot that's only there to sell HG Schwarzettes? Its true payoff is the best Felsi moment in the show when she just walks in and aborts the misbegotten plot tumor. Was it really worth it making a whole "Guel stumbles into Iron-Blooded Orphans" episode when the show desperately needed more time to wrap up its main plot? Maybe not, but Guel getting told by random ass mercenaries that he needs to man the fuck up before him doing exactly that is just an extremely satisfying moment no matter what.

And while the epilogue is a bit flat on the plot side, it has to be said that while cheesy as hell it takes the time to send every character off properly and gives everyone a happy ending (Sulemio paying off in the end isn't much of a surprise since I don't think that Ookouichi wants to spend the rest of his life in the witness protection program). That is pretty much the show in a nutshell, ultimately it's less well constructed than it sh/c-ould have been and it's held back by being a Gundam show after all, but it's always entertaining, and that is what matters the most. 8/10

Insomniacs After School

While I don't know why I dislike Skip and Loafer, I am also not quite sure why I love this show so much. The concept takes some suspension of dislike right away, because I am extremely skeptical of "sadboi stumbles into magical girlfriend that's prefect but only compatible with him in this one specific random way". But boy, once it gets rolling it nails the whole "first love, also big seishun energy" in a rare form that we haven't seen since Tsuki ga Kirei. It's all in the characters once again, and Ganta in particular is exceptionally well constructed. He seems whiny and self-centered at first, but as it turns out, yeah, he's supposed to be like that (his first big character development milestone is him realizing that other people have problems too and that his woe-is-me attitude isn't helpful), plus he has a very understandable reason. He still has that attitude, but now we know he can't help it. It's the rare case of "relatable" and "backstory drama" done right - the drama is there, but it's in the past, can be established in a tiny amount of time and doesn't suck the enjoyment out of the present. And then you can drag it up and swiftly deal with it when the story calls for it — The point is not to have maximum drama onscreen, but to motivate the characters. Magari has this going too (even if I think she still ends up being a bit too "perfect" for my taste, to be honest), and even Yui, someone we know almost nothing about, ends up feeling unique and well rounded, so I think it's fair to say that Skip and Loafer's lacking characters are just a skill issue. Add to that a more one-note but enjoyable supporting cast, and you have a banger of feelgood, wholesome and yes, monumentally cheesy puppy love about a bunch of cute dorks that you can't help but grin about. The production values don't always quite hold up, but who cares when it knows what it wants to be and goes all in when it needs to, and yes, it does have as satisfying and ending as you can expect from one of these. Grand fromage avec compétence is probably not the palate cleanser for everyone, but it's my blog so skill with it. 9/10

[mentally-in-northern-italy]

Wrong Idea — James Potter x reader

***not my gif***

Summary: You have a big crush on James Potter but have to live with the ‘fact’ that James is smitten with your best friend, Lily. But is this really the case, or have you just got the wrong idea?

Word count: 2.9K

A/N: Hi! Second fic, whoooo! No one really requested this but it just came to me. Again, a bit too long for my liking, but it’s okay. Any feedback is very much appreciated. Requests are open, so feel free! Enjoy!!

_________________

“He is totally staring at you, Lily,” you whisper to your friend as you stand beside her, both pretending to be overly concentrated on finding just the finest box of Chocolate Frogs that Honeydukes has to offer. 

“He is not,” Lily whispers back, acting as if this prospect sounds ridiculously unbelievable but you could see her small smile as she tried her best not to glance at his direction. She continued to act as though she was very carefully examining a box of Chocolate Frogs as you chuckled quietly, trying to ignore the faint pang in your chest.

James Potter. Star Quidditch player. Self-appointed ‘mom’ of the Marauders. Personification of the very cliche, but fitting phrase, “messy hair, don’t care”. And, of course, a very famous lady’s man.

And, lastly, your ‘former’ crush who was now seemingly smitten with your best friend, Lily.

You weren’t sure when it was exactly when you had realized that you were inordinately conscious of how you looked whenever he was around, how you stole quick glances at him throughout your shared Potions class, hoping he wouldn’t notice, or how much the thought of the raven-haired boy consumed your mind. Slowly, but surely, your crush on James had developed into something so strong and overwhelming, you couldn’t even think of confiding in anyone else. Not even your best friend, Lily Evans. 

When you had heard about the rumours and gossip circulating around the school, about how James was supposedly head-over-heels for a certain red-head, you had tried your very hardest to force those feelings out of you. You couldn’t have a crush on James. He liked Lily. End of story.

You felt even worse when Lily would blush mildly, her cheeks turning as red as her hair, whenever James stopped you two to talk in the middle of the hallway. How Lily would talk your ears off about how much she hated James, and how annoying and arrogant she perceived him to be, but you knew better. You knew Lily liked James too, maybe not as outwardly as James liked her, but enough to make you feel like a terrible person for liking the same guy as your best friend of five years.

And now, you couldn’t help but notice the way James’ eyes seemed to follow you two, as he stood by a shelf at the entrance of the shop, watching you both weave around the shelves stocked with sweets and treats in Honeydukes, talking quietly amongst yourselves.

“Lily, you like him, he likes you,” you try to tell her once again, ignoring how it made your heart sting a little every time you thought of them together, “why, in Merlin’s name, are you acting so oblivious?”

“[Y/N],” she scoffed, feigning offense, “I’m not acting oblivious. And I don’t like him. I just don’t… mind him.” 

“Mhm,” you hummed as you picked up a cauldron cake off the shelf, “I totally believe you, Lils.” 

“Believe what you want, [Y/L/N],” she retorted with a clever smile but the smile started to falter as she started to look more nervous, looking steadily at something behind you.

You turned around to look at what it was exactly that had her looking so alarmed and were just as alarmed when you saw James approaching you two, after abandoning the display he was previously taking a close look at, with a confident smile set on his handsome face. 

“[Y/L/N],” he greeted as he smiled at you for a millisecond too long, sending butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy, “Evans.”

“Potter,” Lily greeted him back curtly, her face set into a smile that conveyed politeness but not necessarily obvious interest.

Maybe it was your failure to repress your intense feelings for James, but you could’ve sworn that he was looking intently at you, perhaps in the hopes that you would also acknowledge him in some way. But, you didn’t trust yourself to be able to speak without melting into a stuttering mess so you stayed quiet, averting eye contact, and fidgeting with the packet of the cauldron cake in your hands. 

“Did you need something, Potter?” Lily questioned, raising a single eyebrow. James’ gaze still hadn’t left you but he was forced to tear his eyes off of you to address Lily. 

“Oh, no, I don’t need anything,” he remarked, regaining his confident (bordering on arrogant) composure as his eyes involuntarily shifted to you once again, “I just wanted to ask something.”

This captured your attention as your eyes jumped up from the cake in your hands to the sly smile that James was sending you and Lily. This is it, you thought, he’s going to ask her out and--

“Is there any chance, [Y/N],” James started out, sending you a sincere look, making your breath hitch in your throat, “that you could give up that Cauldron Cake?” 

“Huh?” you say in surprise. Cauldron Cake? 

“The one you have in your hand,” he smiled, “Uh, Padfoot, apparently, has been craving one for a few weeks and, unfortunately, that’s the last one they have. I looked all over.” 

“Oh,” you said, a bit awkwardly, evidently struggling to find the right words for this unusual sort of situation, “yeah, I guess you can…” 

“Y’know, I told him that’s not how cravings work,” he tried to crack a joke as you handed the cake to him, his hands slightly brushing against your own, making you weak in the knees, “but he claims I wouldn’t get it. It’s just a dog--, uh, a Sirius thing, I guess.” 

He laughed an incredibly awkward laugh, while you and Lily stood there, clearly unsure of what to do. It would not be correct to say you didn’t laugh because  you thought what James had just said was unfunny… no, it was more about the fact that you hadn’t understood it at all. This wasn’t like James. Sure, James’ jokes weren’t hilarious but they certainly weren’t as�� dry as the one he just told. If you could even call it a ‘joke’. It sounded an awful lot like he just winged it -- came up with a half-assed joke just for the sake of coming up with one. Not a typical James Potter move, that much you knew. 

Lily was watching this exchange occur with weirdly curious interest. She wasn’t sure what was happening but she also couldn’t tear her eyes away from darting back between you and James. It didn’t take her too long to get a general gist of what was going on… she was the brightest witch in her year, after all.

“Right,” you say, attempting to swiftly leave this incredibly strange conversation, “I’m afraid Lils and I should get going now. Enjoy the… cake.”

“Oh,” James looked down at the cake, as if he had entirely forgotten he had it in his hands and then back up at you, “yes. Thank you, by the way, for the cake. I’ll see you back at the common room, [Y/N]. Evans.” He nodded in Lily’s direction, while he mentally cursed himself for acting so awkward.

Before anyone could say anything else, you took a hold of Lily’s gloved hand and started to lead her towards the exit of the shop, ignoring whatever it was she was saying to you. You shook your head a little as ridiculous thoughts started flooding your brain. Why did he use my first name and not Lily’s? Am I reading into this too much? Am I going crazy? 

You had decided that the latter two were more likely to be the case when the corner of your eye caught an entire shelf in front of the entrance of the shop, stocked with Cauldron Cakes. And the display wasn’t too far away from where James originally stood. In fact, that’s the very display he was checking out when you had noticed him staring. 

________________

You groaned as Marlene and Lily dragged you out of the dorm room, against your will, mind you, insisting that it was absolutely crucial that you abandon your History of Magic of homework and follow them.

“We have a test coming up!” you tried to reason with them, “Lily, Mar, come on, we should be studying!”

“Studying can wait, [Y/N],” Marlene said to you, matter-of-factly, “Quidditch cannot.”

They dragged you by the arm, through the Gryffindor common room, to the Quidditch game, which was just about to start. Today was a big day; the first Quidditch game of the season, Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff. 

You, of course, knew what this meant. 

James Potter. Flying around on his broom. Being a brilliant chaser.

You had never been a particular fan of the game, but when you had started liking James, you found yourself going to the Quidditch pitch quite often. That is, until you deemed your feelings for James to be forbidden. Now, Quidditch games were just about the same as rubbing salt to your, very deep, wounds. 

The way he would look over at Lily, who stood right beside you, and wink at her made you angry. And not angry at Lily or James, but angry at yourself. All the glances he would send her way only made you get mad at yourself for ever feeling this way about someone who was so far out of your reach.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Lily said as you snapped out of your thoughts, leading you through the hallways in the direction of the Gryffindor stands.

“Yeah,” you mutter under your breath, with a twinge of sadness, making sure she wouldn’t hear, “for you.”

_______________

Gryffindor had won the match. Hufflepuff played exceptionally well, but it was no match for the Gryffindor’s brilliant offensive tactics. 

As the Gryffindor seeker had caught the snitch, the cheering in the stands rang out. You, Lily and Marlene jumped up, screaming and clapping, overjoyed at this brilliant win. 

“Come on,” Marlene said excitedly, “let’s go down to the pitch!”

“What?” you asked, alarmed. You did not want to be in close proximity to James right now. Not when his jersey would be clinging onto his body and his hair would be all sweaty and his face all red, making him look even more hands-

“Yes! Let’s go,” Lily agreed instantly, dragging you by the arm. 

You groaned once again but you knew they wouldn’t listen. As you three, no, as you two were walking down, -- Marlene was practically skipping -- thoughts of the Quidditch match in action flooded your mind. James sent so many winks and smirks in Lily’s direction that you could’ve sworn by Merlin that some of them were to you. Or this was just wishful thinking. After all, Lily was sitting right beside you. You decide that this is just you getting confused -- but then again, why did Lily always glance your way after James smiled at you, as he scored a goal, expecting you to react in some way? And why did she look genuinely pleased, instead of having even the hint of jealousy in her eyes? 

There’s nothing for her to be jealous about, you told yourself repeatedly, he was looking at Lily. 

As you three reached the Quidditch pitch, you could see clumps of students, crowding the Quidditch players, congratulating them excitedly. 

“Lily, I came to the match,” you tried to whisper to her as you two stood there, unsure of where to go, “can I please go study now?” 

“No, [Y/N] [Y/L/N]!” providing special emphasis on your full name, yelling loudly, capturing the attention of everyone on the pitch. Everyone’s head turned to look at you as you seemed to shrink into yourself and Lily wore a proud smile on her face, looking at you slyly. 

The mention of your full name had attracted a lot of unwanted attention. But it also, almost immediately, seemed to attract some wanted attention as well. 

Well, not wanted, that wasn’t allowed as per your rules, but appreciated, nonetheless. 

James’ head turned to you as he diverted his attention from some excited first-years to you and Lily. Your eyes had widened remarkably, your face had started to heat up and the butterflies in your stomach who had seemed to be asleep previously, had now woken up. 

“Oh, would you look at that,” Lily said quickly, “Thomas Lee looks dashing, I’m going to go tell him congratulations!” And with that, she walked away from you and towards Lee, the Gryffindor keeper.

James had started walking over to you as you stood there awkwardly, not sure what to do. Do you meet him halfway? Do you keep standing there? Merlin, why did this have to be so difficult? 

“[Y/N], so glad you could make it,” he smirked at you as he pushed his sweaty hair back. 

“Uh, yeah, congratulations,” you said, trying to keep yourself from looking at his figure, “you played really well.” 

“Thanks!” said James, with, what looked like, genuine gratefulness, before the look in his eyes turned cocky again, “Although, I’ve played better. This game was a piece of cake.” 

“Of course,” you couldn’t help but smile softly at his words. This is the James you knew. The James you liked. The James you shouldn’t like.

“Speaking of cake!” he exclaimed suddenly, trying to salvage this conversation from turning awkward, “Thanks again for that cauldron cake! I was so bummed when I found they had run out.” 

“Oh, no, don’t worry about it,” you told him politely, when you remembered something. 

They hadn’t run out of cauldron cakes. In fact, they had them all piled up on the shelf right in front of the entrance. Before you could say anything, James started speaking again.

“Y’know, there’s a Hogsmeade trip coming up,” he started out confidently, but the slight shaking of his hands and the easy-to-miss quiver in his voice indicated otherwise.

“Yes, I know,” you told him, quietly. Was he telling you to ask Lily for him? Godric knows you would never be able to do that. “Lily knows too, so… you can ask her. I’m sure she’ll say yes.”

“What?” he looked very surprised, his eyebrows had furrowed as if he had no idea why you had mentioned that. 

“The Hogsmeade trip. You should ask her. She might seem like she would say no but she’ll say yes.” You ignored the feeling of your heart sinking. 

“But, I don’t want to.” he said with a slight shake of his head.

“What?” 

“I wanted to ask you.” his voice had gotten unusually quiet.

You were in absolute shock, to say the least. James Potter wanted to ask you? To Hogsmeade? What about Lily? 

“What about Lily?” you asked, confusedly, “I thought-- everyone thought--”

“I like you, not Evans,” he told you with no hesitation, “who said I liked her?”

“Literally everyone thinks so.”

“Well, they must have gotten the wrong idea.”

“But--”

“[Y/N], for someone so bloody smart, you are incredibly oblivious,” James said, with the slightest bit of his irritation showing through, “Didn’t you see me staring at you? Winking? For Merlin’s sake, there wasn’t a shortage of Cauldron Cakes back at Honeydukes! I just wanted to talk to you.” 

“But you were staring at Lily,” you say defensively, “not me. Why would you do that?”

“Because… I like you?” 

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do!” 

You shook your head in frustration. You couldn’t do this to Lily. This is not what best friends do. No, there is no way you would act on these feelings.

“Lily!” you turn away from James and make your way over to Lily, “we need to go.” 

You drag Lily away from Lee and start making your way off the pitch, leaving Lee and James staring at you both in confusion.

“So, did you say yes?” she asked you as you tried to walk as fast as you could without making it seem like you’re running away.

“What?” you turn to her. 

“To James? He asked you out, didn’t he?” she asked eagerly. You were surprised to see she wasn’t sad. At all. In fact, she seemed happy for you. 

“But you like James,” you tried to tell her, trying to work this whole situation out, standing only a few feet away from James and Lee, who were watching this interaction intently. Didn’t she?

“I thought I did,” she told you, “but I think I only convinced myself that I did, because I thought he liked me. To be honest, I really don’t. And all those times you tried to tell me he was staring at me? It was always you, [Y/N], I just happened to be standing right beside you every time.”

“But, I--,” you struggled to find words. 

“Look,” Lily said as she put a hand to your shoulder, “I know you like him. I also know he likes you. Why, in Merlin’s name, are you acting so oblivious?” she said, imitating your words from that trip to Honeydukes.

“You really don’t like him?” you asked, unsure of what you wanted the answer to be. On one hand, you would love to go out with James, on the other, you never wanted to hurt Lily’s feelings.

“No! Not even one bit,” she reassured you, “I’m a bit relieved, really, plus, I think I’ve found myself a keeper.” She turned away from you to face Lee, still stood a few feet away from you two, and smiled. Lee winked back. You laughed at this and reluctantly turned your head to James, also stood a few feet away from you. He stood with his confidence a little diminished, looking defeated. But he still gave you a small smile and waved awkwardly.

“Go! Say yes,” Lily told you, chuckling, “We can even go on double dates together.” 

You rolled your eyes playfully at Lily before you took a deep breath in and started to make your way towards him. 

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“Um.”

“Let’s start over,” you told him as you straightened your posture and fixed your hair. 

“Start over?” he asked, regaining the arrogance.

“Ask me out again, Potter,” you told him, having found confidence yourself after your talk with Lily. You no longer felt bad about liking James. And you felt even better knowing he liked you.

“Oh, yes!” James plastered his smirk back on his face, “There's a Hogsmeade trip coming up, [Y/N].” 

“Yes, I’m aware,” you nodded and smiled, stifling giggles from erupting.

“Let’s go together.” he said cockily, his eyes twinkling.

“That was pathetic, James,” you said as you started to laugh softly.

“Hey!” 

“But yes. Let’s,” you told him with a mischievous smile, “Maybe this time, I can help you find the very noticeable, hard-to-miss Cauldron Cake display.” 

“Deal.” He sent you his infamous James Potter grin at which you grinned back.

[willyoulovemeinthemorning]

The Prodigal Daughter Chapter 1

Summary: As the secret daughter of Jason Gideon, you’ve always had a certain proclivity towards profiling. After finishing the Academy, you finally have your chance in the BAU- only months after your dad’s passing. Will it all be too much? Will you find yourself sharing another proclivity with your father for a certain genius with big puppy dog eyes?  A/N: Hello! This is my first fic in a very long time, but this story idea has been living in my head for upwards of 6 or 7 years! Please go easy on me, and I hope you enjoy! a big thanks to @candlesandsoftrain for being a great beta! Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
 Category: Fluff/getting to know you games with the team Content Warning: nothing in this chapter except lots of flirting, tension, sexually charged drinking games, etc. Later chapters will include NSFW Word Count: 4000+

Chapter 1

The years moved by much too fast for your liking. You were older than you were willing to admit, and the years had been hard. Time moved so oddly- it was so difficult and slow when it was happening, but when you looked back, it was as if it sped by like a freight train.

Today was your first day at your new job-  you were 27 and you’d been waiting your whole life for this day to finally come. After hearing stories about your father all through your life; catching the monsters in the dark as well as those that hide in plain sight… you wanted to be a superhero too. And lucky for you, you had a certain proclivity towards reading people. So, you became a profiler. And after years of grueling school, training and fighting to earn your place with no one knowing the legacy in your blood line, you did it.

No, those weren’t tears in your eyes… it was just dusty in the bullpen, that was all. You could feel him everywhere. You knew this was where he lived and breathed and worked for so much of his life. Your mom never understood how you ended up being so understanding about never seeing him, while your brother spent so much of your lives incredibly bitter and angry at him for “abandoning” you both. You always told Stephen that dad spent every minute of every day trying to make the world a safer place for the two of you to grow up in. And now you could finally continue his life’s work.

You caught a few pairs of eyes looking at you when you entered the bullpen for the first time, walking through like you’d been there a million times before- because in your imagination, your dreams, you had. Dad was always so descriptive with his words, and it was never hard to get lost in his stories.

You walked right to the Unit Chief’s office, knowing that Agent Hotchner was already in there waiting for you. You were supposed to have your first meeting on Monday, but when the team didn’t get back in time from their last case- a strangler in Minnesota, he had called you and you rescheduled to accommodate those dang annoying serial killers. Now it was Wednesday, and you could feel the tired energy in the room. It was filled with the sounds of scribbling pens and pencils on paper, the groans and squeaks of chairs as everyone tried to stay comfortable while doing their paperwork. You spotted a few very attractive people around you, but tried to keep your eyes forward as you headed for your destination.

After knocking on the door, you heard a shuffling of papers as a low, gritty voice welcomed you, “Come on in.”

“Hello, Agent Hotchner. Nice to see you again.” You offered your hand, which he took with his baseball mitt sized one. It was rough and strong, and reminded you of your fathers when you were young. You could tell these hands had seen a lot of conflict.

“Y/N , you’ve grown up a lot since last I saw you.” He had a kind smile on his face, which surprised you, even after all this time. Aaron Hotchner was always such a serious man, even when you were younger. “And please, call me Aaron. You know that.”

You chuckled in response. “I know, but it feels weird to call you that now that you’re my boss.”

“Hotch will do then. Morgan will give you quite a hard time if he hears you calling me ‘Agent Hotchner’, I can promise you that. Sit, sit. Let’s get through all the necessary annoyances so I can properly introduce you to your new team.”

After all of the finalized paperwork and introductory nuisances, Hotch finally stood up, indicating it was time to enter the bullpen again, but with a promise of introductions to your new team. You felt a small pang in your heart. You wished your dad could have been here to do this instead of Aaron. He took notice of your second of discomfort- something you were sure to get used to quickly working with profilers.

“Y/N, he’s here… in you. I know how proud he would be of you.” He said to you with a hand falling to your shoulder.

With a smile, you accepted the comfort, turning to look at him again. “Would you mind… could we see Uncle Dave first? I think it would make me feel a little better to have him next to me for this.” That damn dust was at it again. You were fine, really. You’d been preparing for this emotion for months now- there was nothing to surprise you.

With a gentle smile, Aaron- no, Hotch, you remembered- nodded. “Of course. Follow me to his office.” It didn’t escape your notice that, as you followed him, you were on your way to your dad’s old office. Each step brought you to a place you’d heard about, thought about, dreamt about, but had never seen. But when you walked in behind Hotch, you knew this was nothing like your father would have kept it. It just screamed Rossi.

“Y/n! If it isn’t the smartest and brightest star from the Academy, falling right here into our laps at the BAU!” Dave cheered as he saw you, shooting up from his chair and almost running to you, pulling you into his arms while Hotch closed the door to offer you all some privacy.

“Uncle Dave, you can’t believe how amazing it is to have you here on my first day.” You said into his shoulder, holding him close. He was always such a big supporter of your career- there every step of the way whenever your dad couldn’t be. You always said that you were lucky- god blessed you with a loving, mildly helicopter mother, and two superhero dads so fight all the monsters for you.

“You’re gonna be great, kid. Unless your academy grades and reputation were all a lie to get you out of their hair!” He laughed, low and warm.

You giggled, pulling back from him and punching him lightly in the arm. “Rude.” You took a deep breath, and both men noticed that you were preparing yourself to say something important. “Aaron, Uncle Dave... I made it here on my own, with my mother’s maiden name and no one knowing who my father is. I am so proud to be the daughter of Jason Gideon, and I miss him every day… but I think I want to keep my birth last name a secret for now, if you’re both okay with that. They legally changed my name when I was a baby, and while I would be so proud to have his last name again, I’m- just not ready to hold up his legacy just yet.” You explained to them, hoping they understood. Your parents had decided very early on that they didn’t want you to have the last name Gideon. It was just- too dangerous. Your father had put away too many bad people, especially people that preyed upon little girls, to risk your life that way. So while you thought of yourself as Y/N Gideon in your mind, you’d never said it out loud before. Not once.

“Of course, kiddo. Whatever you want, we’ll follow your lead. Hopefully Garcia can’t find anything with your last name, but we’ll have Kevin keep an eye on her search history in case she finds anything. But if you’re worried about anyone finding out, I would tell her and promise her to secrecy though. Because if super tech genius finds out before you tell her… everyone will know.” He explained, and you laughed. You’d heard about Garcia. Your dad used to drive her crazy. You considered Rossi’s advice and nodded, understanding and deciding to think on it.

“Ready?” Hotch said after a moment, gesturing to the bullpen, where you could see several people grouped up at a desk, staring into Rossi’s office with curiosity and perhaps a little bit of uncertainty.

“As I’ll ever be.” Rossi squeezed your hand and you smiled at him, a big toothy smile shining back at you. With two men you knew you’d already trust your life with by your side, you walked out of the room knowing that these people who you already knew so much about would soon also hold your life in their hands. “Team, I’d like to introduce you to the new member of our team, Y/N L/N. She’s transferred in with top marks from the Academy, and she’s been highly recommended by all of her professors.”

You blushed at his compliments, rolling your eyes at him. “I didn’t have the highest marks in ALL of my classes. Shooting targets took me a while.” You smile, waving at the team awkwardly. “Hi everyone, it’s an honor to be here with you. I’ve heard so much about all of you. You’re all pretty famous around the bureau. I can’t wait to meet you all and get to know you as my team instead of people I’ve been idolizing for 10 years!”

Everyone laughed, and a tall, dark and handsome man walked forward with a giant grin on his face. “Hey, Y/N, I’m Derek Morgan. You are welcome to continue to idolize me as much as you’d like.” You could have snorted, he was so much like your dad described.

“Nice to meet you, Agent Morgan.” You said with a mildly flirty smile, holding your hand out to him happily. No worries for you, you were definitely going to like your job if you had him to look at all the time.

“That’s enough touching for now, little newbie,” a big beautiful blonde said from behind him. “That is my man-candy you’re ogling and groping, thank you very much.” There was no venom to her words, just something that you could only describe as adorable teasing. She was so colorful, it was almost as if there was a light shining around her. She was just a glowing ball of sunshine… You knew you’d be fast friends with her. “I’m Penelope Garcia, resident tech Goddess and most loyal beck and call gal.”

You took her hand and shook it, before doing a slight curtsy, earning you a giggle. “An honor to meet you, Tech Goddess Garcia.”

“Ignore her, they’re perfect for each other because of their over inflated egos.” You heard a blazé voice coming from the other side of Derek Morgan. “He’s eye candy for us all, much to her dismay. She’s never been one for sharing. I’m Emily, one of the few normal ones here.”

“Normal, pfft. She’s far from normal. You should hear her talk about her cat. Jenniffer Jareau, but my friends call me JJ.”

You took both of their hands in firm handshakes, grinning at them both. “Nice to meet you, and thank you for the permission to ogle, Agents. As far as normal, I sure hope not. Normal is vastly overrated.” You grinned at them. Damn they were cute. Was this whole team models who decided to become do-gooders and join the FBI?

“Halloweentown, 1998, said by Debbie Reynolds.” A small voice in the back of the group piped in, confident in words and speed, but somehow… demure and shrouded in uncertainty, too. The team parted so you two could see each other, and you swear your heart stopped beating for a few seconds. In front of you was the prettiest, most adorable, hottest guy you’d ever seen. He had a sexy professor thing going on, but simultaneously looked like he was an anxious teenager, terrified of being bullied by this newcomer.

You longed to hold him and protect this stranger from the rest of the world and heal any wounds he had succumbed to in the time before you. He was staring at you too, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights, pupils a little bigger than you can only assume they would normally be. After a snicker broke you both from the weird moment, pretty boy smiled a little and gave an awkward wave. “Hi. Doctor Spencer Reid.”

Oh. God. Your heart stopped a second time, and you swore, this is what a stroke felt like. You’d heard about Spencer for the last ten years. Your father loved him almost as much as he loved you and your brother. Maybe even more sometimes. The BAU resident genius, IQ of 187, eidetic memory, born in Las Vegas and wasn’t allowed in most casinos due to his card counting ability. Ability to empathize and love in a beautiful and incredible way- your father adored him, and because of how he spoke of him, you… you’d always had a crush on this faceless idea in your head with his wild mop of hair and tall, lanky frame. You had a general picture from all these years, but nothing had prepared you for this.

“H-Hi. I’m Y/N. N-Nice to meet you.” You said, trying your hardest not to sound like a little school girl with a crush on her teacher. You’d just met the man, for god sakes. You heard another snicker, and this time you knew it was from Morgan just from the proximity of the sound and the testosterone you could feel from the gesture. You tried to ignore your flaming red cheeks, and held out a hand a second before remembering that he hated being touched by strangers. A big germaphobe, always calculating the risk of what contact could mean for him. But before you had a chance to pull away, he reached out and took your hand, giving it a squeeze. You must have looked as shocked as you felt, but no one else noticed because everyone was staring at Reid with the same expression you were wearing. And to be honest, he looked just as surprised, if not more so.

Garcia made a breathy squeak sound, and somehow, that broke the tension of the moment, and you and Reid pulled away at the same time, both looking like you’d just been shocked by electricity. You stretched your hand out, staring at it, feeling on edge all over again, thinking about how good his hand felt in yours, and how good it would probably feel other pla-

“Well, I hope you all will be on your best behaviors, and treat Y/N like you would want to be treated as a newcomer in a team like ours, seeing what we see.” Hotch finally broke the silence. “Y/N, if you have any problems, come find myself or Rossi and we’ll help sort them all out.” Nodding, you looked at him and smiled, suddenly very embarrassed that your boss and your uncle just witnessed all of that. As profilers, they were going to come to so many conclusions, and each was more embarrassing than the last.

“Pretty boy and pretty girl, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-” You heard Derek sing-songing and he walked away, looking like the cat who got the cream. He was interrupted only when Emily punched him quite hard in the arm, looking at you with a wink and a smirk as she headed back to her desk as well. You tried to avoid looking at the genius again, but it was… difficult to say the least. You wanted to memorize everything about him. You wanted to pick his brain and listen to every fact he’d ever memorized. You wanted to experience him in all the ways your father had gotten to and more.

You watched as the team dissipated and then your eyebrows furrowed. “Rossi?” You asked, stopping him in his tracks as he was headed back to his office. “Where’s my desk?” He looked over his shoulder at you and you could tell he was holding back a shit eating grin as he pointed with his thumb to the desk directly across from Reid.

Fuck. You both looked at each other… or well, you looked at him, and he looked away like he’d been caught doing something and sat down, looking at his paperwork blankly. As you headed to your new desk, you’d give anything to know what was happening inside that massive brain of his.

Staring at your empty desk, you imagined what you could put there. Pictures of your family, pictures of your friends and your cats… One day you would put up a picture of your father… one day. For now, you grabbed your briefcase from your side and opened it up. You started unpacking some of your first day necessities; pens and notebooks, little toys and bright objects to remind yourself that there is good in the world. Your pile of books out; you always kept at least ten books on you at all times. One for every kind of mood you could be in- and at least three that you hadn’t read yet and were planning on.

As you prepped your desk, you could feel those eyes on you, analyzing your every move. You wanted to look up and see if you could find what he was figuring out within those eyes, but you tried to keep busy so you wouldn’t embarrass yourself again.

“Another book nerd, I see.” You heard that deep, caramelly sweet voice behind you. Derek sat on your desk right next to you and smiled a toothy smile at you. “Pretty girl likes to read, huh?”

Smiling at him, you raised a brow. “Reading is an exercise in empathy; an exercise in walking in someone else’s shoes for a while.” You were about to quote the originator, but someone else beat you to it.

“Malorie Blackman. British children’s literature writer and science fiction author.” Your head snapped to the person in front of you, who wasn’t looking at either of you.

Smiling at him, you nodded, and then turned to Morgan. “Yup, Malorie Blackman. Empathy is a huge part of the job, right? Reading allows us to experience a million different perspectives- which, as proflers, is necessary to catch the bad guys. I read so I can try to understand as many perspectives in this world as possible.”

Derek looked a little impressed, at least, and you couldn’t get a read on the gorgeous mop of brown hair on the desk across from you. Derek picked up one of the books still on your desk, not organized in your little library yet. “I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings?” He comments, and you catch Spencer’s eyes flick up at the title, curious.

“It’s my favorite. Not only do I love birds, but I’m a very big Maya Angelou fan. I’ve… always kind of felt like a bird stuck in a cage. Flitting about, trying to figure out what to do with my life and who I am... No book has ever made me feel more seen or understood as a human being.” You caught those big, interested eyes and you almost felt like you might have shared too much. You’ve always been an open book, but somehow, the way he was looking at you made you feel more vulnerable than you had… ever.

Derek nodded and smiled, putting the book down on your desk. “Well, lady genius, I’m going to try and get everyone to get together tonight for drinks, would you be interested in getting to know us in a more fun environment, or would you rather just go to the library with Pretty Boy over here and nerd out together?” He teased, making both of you blush.

“I-I don’t know. I’ve spent all of the years of my adulthood studying and sleeping and working to get here, so I haven’t really… spent a lot of time at bars?” Admitting that wasn’t the best feeling, but better to be honest than try to make up a lame excuse.

“Do I hear we have a light weight to peer pressure?” Derek said, loudly enough to catch the attention of everyone else. JJ and Emily looked enthused, and Rossi poked his head out of his office to chime in.

“Someone’s convincing Miss nose in a book Y/N to go out for drinks tonight? I’m in and I’m buying!” That was met with an uproarious approval from everyone on the team, with the exception of Reid, who was just looking at you, seemingly waiting on you to decide.

You bit your lip, noticing how Reid’s eyes fell to your lips in reaction. Well… if you could spend more time with the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen looking at you like that more… “Well… I guess. Sure. Sure, okay, I’m in.” You finally agreed, everyone whooping and hollering in celebration at you giving in. “Doctor Reid? What about you?” You looked at him through your eyelashes, and you could swear you saw his eyes dilate more.

“Oh, pretty boy barely ever comes out drinking with us anymore. He’s always holing himself up in his apartment- books from floor to ceiling, books in the fridge, freezer, on the bed, in his drawers and closets…” Derek teased, reaching over to Spencer and ruffling his hair.

Reid looked at Morgan and shoved his hand away and tried to fix his hair, rolling his eyes. “I do not have books in my freezer. That would be a terrible spot to put them, it would completely ruin the delicate spines.” You smiled at him in support, and he sat up a little straighter. “I… I’m in. For tonight.” He looked right at you when he said it, and you couldn't help but feel a little flutter in your stomach at the idea that he was going just to get to know you.

Morgan seemed to be thinking the same thing, and the face he gave Reid as he stood up and sauntered away said more than he needed to outloud. Once Reid looked away from Morgan, your eyes met and you both smiled again. “You’re a fan of Maya Angelou?” He asked, nodding towards your book.

“I am. I was always drawn to books that had birds on the covers, but then I actually read it and realized how beautiful it is on the inside.” You held the book in your hands gently. It was a mutual love, one your shared with your dad.

“The number of bird species in a person’s surroundings correlates directly to happiness levels.” He said, smiling at you like you were the most interesting thing in the world. The attention should have made you uncomfortable, but it just made you feel warm… important.

“Really?” You searched his eyes, wondering how much information was in that brain, stacked away for use when necessary. “That’s so interesting. I thought most people found birds annoying because of all the noise.”

He shook his head. “On the surface, they think it’s annoying, but once one becomes used to the sounds all around them, they find the background noise comforting. Most people find absolute silence much more disconcerting.”

“Absolute silence, for sure. But comfortable silence between two people who find solace in each other… I think that’s my favorite background noise.” He looked at you as you spoke, a small bit of hope flickering in both of your faces. You’d felt… alone, since your fathers spirit left this world months ago. It had been so hard to be at school and unable to go to his services, terrified of people finding out who your father was and that information altering your career. You hadn’t even applied to the bureau until you had your recommendation letters in order- you didn’t want Aaron giving you any false starts just because he knew. You liked to visit his grave once a month and tell him all the things you wrote in your letters to him. You carried around his private notebook as a reminder of the people in the world he saved, the people you wanted to save. You clutched your briefcase close, knowing you couldn’t put it in your desk with Reid watching you so closely. You’d find time to slip it in later, when no one was looking. With that eidetic memory, you knew he’d recognize it immediately, and you didn’t want his curious gaze to ruin your secret just yet. You wanted the team to form their own opinions of you before they knew... because the moment they knew, everything would change.

Next chapter

[dameronology]

welcome to the jungle {frankie morales}

summary: after taking a job with the delta guys, you cross paths with frankie morales. even though you’re at each other’s throats at first, it proves to be the start of something beautiful.  (for @what-the--curtains​ - i hope you enjoy!!) - 7k words

warnings: swearing, mentions of ptsd

this is kinda ambiguous in terms of the timeline of the film but i sort of hint to the first half being before the events of t.f and the second half being after -- with that said, you can take it as you would like :D

- jazz

Your brother had dog sat for a few days.

In exchange, you were flying out to Colombia in the middle of your work week. 

You believed in favours, but these two did not feel like they were equal. 

Still, you were a person of your word - and getting to fly to South America was exciting. The job itself was exciting, if not a little...eyebrow raising. His friend, an ex-Delta soldier, needed somebody to ID a body. That part didn’t bother you - you were a forensic archaeologist after all and it was quite literally your job description. The suspicious bit was the circumstances under which you were doing it; Santiago Garcia hadn’t been entirely clear on the phone, but he’d said something about witnesses and getting the government off of our backs. You’d met Santiago a few times and you knew what kind of work he did - military stuff. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that it was probably an under-the-radar kind of affair. But, you’d never been one to back down from a challenge. 

So, here you were on a warm Colombian Tuesday afternoon, suitcase trailing behind you as you trekked towards a dusty old air base. The sun was high in the sky, beating down on your back in a way that had initially been comforting, but was now just plain annoying. You didn’t know how long you were going to be here, but packing three jackets now felt like a stupid idea. The one one you’d worn on the plane over had been long discarded and tied around your waist, which only added to the struggle of dragging your case up the steep, sandy hill. In the distance, you could see an ATC tower glinting under the sun - the streams of light bounced right back off of it, causing you to shield your eyes with your forearm. The taxi you’d gotten from the international airport - not like this sandy little place - had only taken you so far. At least, of all things, the boots you’d opted to wear were built for this kind of thing. 

A few hundred meters up the road, you finally saw another sign of human life. A 4x4 was parked outside the abandoned terminal entrance, three men leaning against the side of it. You spotted Santiago standing a few metres away on his phone, thumbs tapping away. He didn’t look any different to the last time you saw him; dark and curly hair, a semi-friendly smile and stubble littering his chin. You hadn’t seen him since your brother’s birthday party a few months ago. 

‘Hey!’ The former soldier offered you a grin when he saw you, holding his arms open. ‘Long time, no see!’

‘Hey, Santi!’ You replied, giving him a pat on the back as he pulled you into a hug. ‘And yeah, it’s been a while. Then again, when was the last time you were in the country for more than five minutes?’

‘I’m in high demand.’ He shot back. 

Pulling back from the embrace, Santi pointed to his colleagues. There was Will and Benny, two blonde boys, both in military gear. It didn’t take much to figure out that they were brothers; same smirk, same stance, same eyes. Even if Santi hadn’t pointed it out, you would have figured as much. You were naturally deductive - came with the job. After the brothers, there was Frankie. He had dark eyes and hair, the latter of which was covered by his hat. Unlike the other three, he was wearing more casual clothes, just with a tac vest over the top. You kind of got the vibe that he didn’t want to be there - that was...comforting. 

‘What’s all this?’ Frankie asked, gesturing to the heavy metal suitcase behind you. 

‘Just...stuff. Tools.’ You replied. ‘Things I need to do my job, I guess.’

‘How heavy is it?’ 

‘Light enough that I was able to get them onto a commercial flight?’ You offered. 

‘The plane is already at max weight.’ He replied, brown eyes flickering up to meet yours. 

‘God, give ‘em a break, Fish!’ Santi slapped him on the shoulder. ‘It’ll be fine.’

‘Remember last time you said it would be fine-’

‘- hey.’ He cut him off with a harsh look. ‘We don’t talk about that.’

‘So I can bring them?’ You raised your eyebrows. ‘Because I can’t do whatever it is you need to do unless I have them.’

‘Yeah, it’ll be fine.’ Santiago gave you a comforting smile. ‘Let’s head to the jet and we’ll talk about the job.’ 

Swinging your duffle bag back over your shoulder, you picked up your suitcase and began to follow the guys further up the hill. There wasn’t anybody else around -- just sand, sun and rusting old jets. There was one in particular that they seemed to be headed towards. It was only mildly less eroded than the damaged ones around you, but the engines were running and the cargo doors were open. Santiago took your bag from your hands as you approached it, tossing it in with the other luggage. 

‘Do not throw that one, Garcia!’ You demanded, flinching slightly as he took your suitcase. 

‘Wouldn’t dream of it.’ He shot back. 

‘Sure thing.’ You rolled your eyes at him. ‘You brought a medkit right?’

‘No. Why?’

‘There’s one in my duffle bag.’ You replied. ‘Side pocket. Can you grab it?’

‘We don’t need one, we’ll be fine-’

‘- Santiago Garcia, do you want me to report back to my brother that you took his baby sibling on a jungle-wide expedition without the correct medical supplies?’ You challenged. 

Santi swallowed, mind briefly flashing back to the time he’d almost been decked by said brother for letting you walk home alone. ‘Fine.’

Your triumphant smile only lasted a split second; as soon as your eyes fell on the plane, you realised you still had to get on it. Fuck. 

The engines seemed to be working fine, but it was just...old. And eroding. And making a funny sound. You were by no means an engineer, but even just binging a few episodes of Air Crash Investigations made you feel qualified enough to know that this was not where it was at in terms of air safety. You could have taken it up with Frankie, but he didn’t seem entirely approachable. 

You did trust Santi, however - though sometimes that seemed a little against your better judgement. Every crazy story that your brother had relayed back to you from their time in the military involved him making questionable decisions. Hopefully, opting to fly this hunk of metal wouldn’t be one of them. Here’s to hoping it was aerodynamic. 

‘Are you getting in or…’ Frankie peered down at you from the stairs, eyebrows raised. 

‘Yeah, sorry.’ You blinked in surprise. ‘This thing is safe, right?’

‘What’s it to you?’

‘What is it to me?’ You snorted. ‘Just, y’know, that I’m about to fly a few hundred thousand feet in the air and if it falls out of the sky I’ll die.’

‘I know what I’m doing.’ Frankie shut the door behind you as you climbed aboard, twisting the handle shut. ‘I’ve been flying for years.’

‘I’m not saying it’s you.’ You brushed past him, shoulders bumping as you did. ‘Captain fucking Sully couldn’t fly this thing.’

‘The guy from Monster’s Inc?’ 

‘No, the guy who landed the plane on the Hudson? They made a movie about it, with Tom Hanks-’

‘- you should sit down now.’ Frankie turned away from you. ‘We’re about to take off.’

Your mouth fell open in slight disbelief. What an asshole. 

Santi called your name, signalling for you to sit with him in the cockpit. The seats on the plane hardly looked comfortable, and your brain was mentally working out if it was safer to sit over the wing in a crash, or by the tail. You’d definitely seen it in a documentary once, but you couldn’t remember exactly what they said. Perhaps the best option was to just be less dramatic. 

Taking a seat between Frankie and Santi, you pulled your seatbelt on and shuffled awkwardly. This was fine. Absolutely fine. Frankie was a trained pilot (and a dickhead, but that didn’t take away from his flying skills) and you were going to be fine. Fiiiiine. Maybe if you said it once more, you’d believe yourself. You were going to be fine. Yeah, there we go. 

A few deep breaths and you were certain. Or, at least you’d convinced yourself to be certain. 

‘So.’ Your eyes momentarily flicked over to where Frankie was adjusting some controls. ‘What exactly am I doing here?’

‘A few months ago, the boys and I were involved in the shoot-out.’ Santi began. ‘Pretty standard for the type of operation we were on.’

‘Right. Standard office work.’ You muttered. ‘Do go on.’

‘We thought everyone who had witnessed it had been recorded.’ He continued. ‘And everyone who we spoke to verified that it was a justified shootout. No dirty work, no ulterior motive. All valid, from a legal perspective.’

You thinned your eyes. ‘I don’t think I like where this is going.’

‘We ID’d all the bodies at the time.’ He said. ‘Including a Ricky Martinez. Except now, a guy claiming to also be Ricky Martinez has come forward, claiming that his version of events is a little different. Like, different enough to incriminate us.’

‘He’s lying, right? You guys were the good ones?’ You urged. Santiago’s silence was anything but comforting. ‘Right?’

‘Morals are all a matter of perspective.’ He replied. ‘Our labs ID’d Martinez’ body twice but we need a third party opinion before we can completely dispel the guy pretending to be him.’

‘Guess that’s where I come in?’ You asked, leaning further back into the seat as the jet began to move. 

‘Exactamente.’ Santi nodded. 

That didn’t sound too bad. Between excavating the grave, running tests and returning the body, it would take a few days tops. You could manage that. 

The jet began to pick up speed, making its ascent towards the runway. Frankie did look like he knew what he was doing -- heck, the man looked bored, even.  He barely even had to look at the dash controls as it moved forward, hands moving freely and easily to manoeuvre the plane down the runway. 

‘What are you staring at?’ Frankie glanced over at you. 

‘N-nothing.’ You replied.  ‘Shouldn’t you be focusing on the road-’

‘- that’s a runway.’ He cut you off. 

‘Whatever.’

You were thrown backwards in your chair from the momentum of the take off. The plane angled upwards as it went up in the air, tilting sideways as it balanced out. You felt your stomach drop as the ground disappeared from beneath you, the push of the engines pulling you up higher into the sky. There was a clunk, signalling that the landing gear had retracted. 

Well, the plane had fulfilled its first purpose: taking off. That was a good sign. 

‘So,’ Benny peered over at you. ‘What’s your callsign gonna be?’

‘My name, presumably.’ You quirked a brow at him. 

‘We have Ironhead, Catfish and Pope.’ He continued. ‘But Will and I were talking, and we thought Barbie was gonna fit well.’ 

‘Oh, really?’ You sniffed. ‘And why might that be?’

‘Because you’re young, and pretty hot-’

‘- so your call sign is Benny, right?’ You cut him off. ‘Short for Benjamin? That’s really clever. Did you come up with it yourself?’

‘Maybe Eye Candy will be beter-’

Benny was cut off when you reached across, leaning over Santi to smack him in the chest with your balled up fist. All four of them jumped in surprise at your action - clearly, you weren’t somebody to be fucked with. You hadn’t worked your ass for years to get your degree to get discredited like that. 

‘Make a comment like that again and I’ll drop kick your ass out of this plane.’ You jabbed your finger towards him. 

Benny thinned his eyes at you. ‘Frankie wouldn’t let you do that. Right, Cat?’

‘You heard ‘em.’ Frankie’s eyes didn’t move from the clouds ahead. 

--

To give credit where credit was due, Frankie was good at landing planes. 

Specifically, he was good at landing planes in places where planes should not have been landed. Not that he’d had much of a choice when the engines gave in half way through the journey, a couple hundred miles over the thick Colombian jungle. 

In short, you’d been right the entire time. The damn thing wasn’t safe. Of course, you weren’t going to say I told you so right then, since it felt like a little bit of a sensitive subject. 

Now, the five of you were standing next to a pile of what-used-to-be-a-plane, defeat plastered over every one of your individual faces. You were lucky to all have made it out okay - just about. Santiago had taken a hit to the head, Benny had bitten his tongue pretty hard when you’d collided with the ground (fitting) and Frankie had split his head open. You and Will were the only ones who hadn’t sustained any injuries. He had proven to be much more tolerable than his brother. 

‘Okay, we just gotta…’ you looked around, eyes taking in the debris around you. ‘We just gotta stay calm-’

‘- stay calm?’ Frankie cut you off. ‘You’re the reason the fucking thing went down! If you hadn’t taken all that extra weight-’

‘- do you ever shut up, Morales?’ You snapped. ‘And I’m no genius but I don’t think the engines catching fire was anything to do with me bringing an extra bag onto the plane!’

‘I’m the pilot.’ He reminded you. ‘I know what I’m talking about.’

‘Maybe it was the weight of your ego that made it go down.’ You chided. 

‘Hey - Patrick, Spongebob!’ Will finally yelled. Both your heads snapped in his direction, eyes wide. ‘Can you keep it in your pants for two minutes so we can work out how to make it through the night?’

‘Right, sorry.’ You nodded. 

You glanced around the crash site, brain calculating for a minute as you took in what little was left. The plan had landed on its belly and skidded for a few hundred metres; consequently, most of the luggage had come out on the way. That left you with the one remaining bag, the medkit you’d scared Santi into bringing and the strewn camping kit that had been ditched in the back of the fuselage. 

Pulling your phone out your pocket, you sighed when you realised that you had no signal. What had you expected? Four bars in the middle of the jungle? Probably not realistic. You did, however, have a compass app. That was something. You thought for a moment, glancing between the app and the sun’s position in the sky. It was splintering through the trees, washing heat over you like a bucket of cold water. There was a small stream a few metres away, which was a source of water at least. 

‘It’s just gone four, maybe five in the afternoon.’ You announced. ‘So we have about three hours till the sun starts to set. The water in the stream runs that way so if we follow it, we’ll find the source. People are more likely to set up civilization around a source of water.’ 

All four of them looked at you like kids who had lost their parents in Walmart.  Were they really ex-military? 

‘So, what?’ Benny frowned. ‘We...set up a new civilisation?’

‘Oh my days.’ You muttered under your breath. ‘I am spoon-feeding this to you! It means that there will be a town with people.’ 

‘That’s smart.’ Santi nodded. 

‘But before we do that, we gotta sort this out. Will, d’you know how to check for concussion?’ You asked, to which he nodded. ‘Okay, you check Santi and I’ll clean up Frankie’s head. Then we gotta gather those camping supplies and head east. Best case scenario, we find a town before sundown. Worst case scenario, we camp out for the night.’

‘Who put you in charge?’ Frankie asked.

‘Me.’ You replied. 

Taking the medkit from Santi’s hands, you quietly thanked him and led Frankie over to some rocks. He didn’t seem all that pleased when you forced him to sit on one - and he was even less pleased when you pulled his hat off. It revealed a tangle of dark curls, some of which you had to push back to get to the mark on his head. Some may have debated the importance of mentioning such a detail, but you couldn’t help but notice how soft his hair was. 

You knelt down in front of him, pulling the supplies out of the little medical kit. There weren't many, but there was enough to give him something temporary till you got to a proper hospital. If you got a proper hospital. 

‘It’s not too deep.’ You observed, running your thumb over the creases of his forehead. ‘Just a couple stitches at worst.’

‘Don’t you normally stitch up bodies?’ Frankie asked. His brown eyes were glued to the floor, following the outlines of the boot-prints that you’d left. 

‘Yeah, it’s the same kinda principle though.’ You laughed slightly. ‘Despite your attitude, I’m not gonna give you Y-incision stitches.’

‘Thanks.’

‘At least not in a place people can see them.’

Frankie snorted, but it translated to a hiss of pain as you dabbed an alcohol wipe at his forehead. Despite everything, you had a slight admiration for him. He’d managed to land the plane safely as the situation allowed and despite a few minor injuries, things could have been much worse. You didn’t quite feel like vocalising that to him when you were still stranded in the middle of the jungle, but if you ever got out? You might get Santi to pass the message on. 

‘D’ you think it’ll scar?’ Frankie quietly asked. 

‘Maybe.’ You admitted. ‘Just take a deep breath.’

‘Where did you even learn to do this stuff?’ He asked, letting out another small grunt of discomfort. ‘The stitches and the compass shit.’

You shrugged. ‘I’ve been around the block a few times. You kinda learn to be prepared.’

‘Really? As a morgue worker?’

‘Not a morgue worker.’ You grumbled. ‘Then again, I am stabbing a needle through your skin so I suppose I’ll allow the discrepancy.’ 

‘What is it you do then?’

‘I’m a forensic archaeologist.’ You explained. ‘So it’s my job to retrospectively work out how people died, whether it be because their body was found a long time after they died or because they had to be exhumed from their original resting place.’

Gently pulling the needle back from Frankie’s forehead, you cut the thread and dabbed it again with an alcohol wipe. You brushed his hair back down and placed his hat back on his head, offering him a smile. For the first time since you’d met him, he returned the gesture. 

You dusted off your knees and took a place on the rock beside Frankie, examining your handy work. Considering you’d been in a plane crash not quite an hour ago, it wasn’t too bad. At least if it did scar, it was in a place his hair covered up. And in your defense, scarring wasn’t usually something you had to worry about with your other...patients. They usually went back in the ground not long after you dealt with them. 

‘You’ll wanna sit down for a minute.’ You replied. ‘D’you feel dizzy at all? Sick?’

‘I was just in a plane crash.’

‘Me too, funnily enough.’ You rolled your eyes at him. ‘I s’pose it’s the most interesting job I’ve worked in a while.’

‘Same here.’ Frankie said. ‘I normally work for a flight school, so this is...something else.’

‘It’ll make me grateful when I get back to the office.’ You agreed. ‘Because it has four walls, air conditioner and co-workers who don’t give me ridiculous nicknames.’

‘Right.’ He snorted. ‘Benny can be...Benny. He doesn’t mean to be an asshole.’ 

‘Benny wasn’t the asshole.’ You quipped, nudging him with your elbow.

At least Frankie had proven now that he could talk to you without being insufferable. You couldn’t work out if you’d warmed to him or if he’d warmed to you, but doing somebody’s stitches was unarguably one hell of an icebreaker. He was just a little closed off; quiet and reserved, you figured. You didn’t know what him and the Delta guys had been through, but Santi had mentioned a few things in passing that pointed to a heavy past. That was something you could relate to - your job was no walk in the park either 

‘It’s not...personal.’ Frankie glanced off into the distance. 

Will had managed to salvage the remaining bag from the jet, meaning that Santiago could use it as a seat. Benny was sitting with them, talking amongst themselves. You would have to move soon, in order to find a suitable place to camp before sundown, but taking a minute to recover from the last hour was also important. You’d barely stopped to sit down since the plane had gone down, and now you had, the shock had hit you. Your suspicions about safety had actually been correct. Not that it mattered now, but at least you had a plan to get everyone back to civilization as soon as possible. 

‘So you being an ice cold bitch isn’t to do with me? That’s a relief.’ You joked. Frankie smiled in response; his first genuine one since you’d met. 

‘The witness that you were going to ID was from the last job we all worked together.’ He explained ‘It went bad. Really bad.’

‘From what Santi said, it sure did sound like it.’ You replied. 

‘I hadn’t seen anything as bad as we did then since I was stationed out in the war zones.’ He continued. ‘So being back here, and being with the guys, has just put me on edge. I’m sorry if I was an asshole.’

‘You don’t have to say sorry.’ You shook your head. ‘I mean...actually, yeah, you were an asshole but I get it.’

‘You do?’

‘Forensic archeology is no walk in the park either.’ You replied. ‘It’s my job to work out how people have died. Most of my work is on crime scenes or in war zones so I’ve seen some...dark stuff.’

‘It sticks with you.’ Frankie quietly murmured. 

‘Yeah, it does.’ You said. ‘I know you might not think it on the surface, because it’s the usual sort of job that leaves stuff weighing on your shoulders-’

‘- doesn’t matter.’ He cut you off. ‘Trauma is trauma. Regardless of how you got it or where it came from, it’s valid.’

You gave him a small smile. Maybe he wasn’t so bad. 

---

Later that night -- and after a few hours of walking -- you and the guys had settled down into a makeshift campsite. It was just at the edge of a clearing, not too far from what looked to be a small town glinting in the distance. You did offer to keep going, but between the injuries the group had sustained, it was easier to stop for the night. You had enough of a combined skillset to find some fruit growing to snack on and to start a fire.

Santiago, Will and Benny had long passed out. It wasn’t until after they had done so that you realised there was absolutely no room left in the tent. It was only built for two people, let alone five. Where that left you in terms of sleeping arrangements, you didn’t know, but the chances of even getting to rest felt low. Your brain was on full overdrive, tired eyes darting constantly around the distance. How safe was this place? You’d managed to convince yourself that the plane was secure, and that had gone down like...well, like the fucking plane. 

You were sitting on a log, drawing pictures in the dirt with a stick. It was just something to keep your brain occupied as you fought off the tiredness. The jet-lag from your flight to Colombia had hit in full force and you wanted nothing more than to crawl into your bed -- the bed that wasn’t there. 

‘So, are you keeping a look-out?’ 

You jumped at the sound of Frankie’s voice, twisting around to face him. ‘Something like that.’

‘I can take over if you want.’ He offered. ‘You should get some rest. You’ve saved our asses like three times today.’

‘Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t fit into that tent.’ You replied. ‘I can hear them snoring from here.’

‘Is it worse than the alternative of me keeping you company?’ He softly smiled, taking a seat beside you. ‘I’ll promise not to be an asshole anymore.’

‘We spoke about this.’ You reminded him. ‘I get it. It’s okay.’

‘I still feel bad.’ He sighed. ‘Especially after you stitched me up and led us through the jungle. We woulda eaten something poisonous and died if you hadn’t stopped Benny going near those mushrooms.’

You chuckled. ‘Don’t feel bad, okay? You’ve had bad experiences before and it’s natural to be anxious.’

‘I shouldn’t have taken it out on you-’

‘- Frankie!’ You cut him off with a groan. ‘I’m about to be an asshole if you don’t stop saying sorry.’

‘So we’re good?’ 

‘We’re good.’ You smiled. ‘Thanks for keeping me company.’

‘Santiago, in no uncertain terms, made it clear that he would come for our kneecaps if we left you alone in the dark.’ Frankie admitted. ‘I think he likes you.’

You chuckled, shaking your head. ‘I think you have the wrong idea. Santi is only so protective of me because he’s one of my brother’s best friends, and I guess by extension, that kind of makes him my brother too. They go right back to high school, and then they did the academy together.’

‘That’s a long time.’ Frankie nodded. ‘So you and Santi, that’s...nothing, right?’

‘Absolutely not.’ You snorted derivatively. ‘And if it was, my brother would probably end him.’

‘So,’ He took a stick from the floor, joining in with random doodles you were carving into the ground. ‘Be honest: if these stitches scar, d’you think I’ll look rugged and handsome?’

You peered over at him, eyes creasing as your smile grew wider. ‘Sure. Why not?’

‘Ouch.’ He dramatically grabbed his heart, shaking his head. ‘The correct answer was no Frankie, you already look rugged and handsome.’

‘Okay, it would make you look more rugged and handsome.’ You rolled your eyes. ‘Better?’

‘Better.’ He grinned triumphantly. ‘When was the last time you stitched up a living, breathing human?’

‘College, I think.’ You replied. ‘My roommate got into a fight and didn’t have insurance, so I did some makeshift stitches with a cheap sewing kit we found at a 24/7 corner shop.’

‘We’ve all done it.’ He laughed. ‘I’m glad the stitches you gave me were actual, professional ones...right?’

‘Obviously!’ You exclaimed. ‘You’ll probably want to get them redone when we get back to...y’know, civilisation.’

‘Naturally.’ He nodded. ‘I appreciate you stitching me up. The others would not have been able to do that if it had been just us.’

You shrugged. ‘It’s nothing, really.’

‘What if - and feel free to blatantly reject me for my earlier actions - I took you out for a drink when we got back? Y’know, if we ever get back to civilisation.’

‘Yeah, okay.’ You smiled. 

Normally, Frankie wouldn’t have been that bold -- and you would have absolutely rejected someone who had made such a terrible first impression. But, said impression had changed. He’d been an asshole but you could see why; you could reason with it, even. God knew that you also had a tendency to become withdrawn and irritable when you were retracting back to the darker corners of your mind. Bad days on the job were hard to shake. They stuck with you for a long time. 

The conversation continued, though you couldn’t recall exactly what it was about. Nothing and everything. Growing up and going to college - or for Frankie, the military. You compared stories of Santiago; Frankie’s were better, but yours were pretty good. He told you about how he’d got his piloting license back, and you in return offered a tale of the time that your brother had gotten a DUI. 

Between the warmth of Frankie beside you and the crackling fire in front of you, it became harder and harder to fight off your exhaustion. You would have been tired enough if you were from this timezone, but your body clock was hours out of whack. With your eyelids getting heavier and the dark sky above you, it wasn’t long before you’d flopped into the pilot’s side with defeat. 

‘’M sorry.’ You murmured. 

‘It’s fine, you don’t have to apologise.’ Frankie replied. He moved his arm around your shoulders to support your weight from falling off the log - also to give a sign that he was more than okay with it. 

You rested your chin on his shoulder, peering up at him. Now that his cold facade had slipped away, you could admire him a little bit more. Warm chocolate eyes, a strong jawline, and a face that just felt kind, even despite initial impressions. The warm glow of the fire illuminated his face with a soft hue, making the lighter tones of his eyes a little more visible. 

You were both still lingering from the adrenaline of the plane crash, hearts pounding in your chests and brains wrestling with the idea that you’d both made it out with minor injuries. Was that what had made you bold? The sudden reminder of your mortality? Because you never would have kissed him if it had been a normal night.

He met you halfway, lips gently capturing yours in a soft kiss. They were a little chapped from the humidity of the jungle air, but intoxicating and enchanting all the same. He tasted very, very faintly of tobacco and a little bit of mint -- had the bastard had chewing gum this whole time? Not that it was relevant. Not that anything else in the world was relevant. Not when Frankie Morales was kissing you.

Neither of you said anything after; he simply pulled you into his chest, resting his head on top of yours. Between the mental exhaustion and emotional ping-pong game that you were partaking in, you wanted to sleep. 

And sleep, you did; tangled together on the dirt of the jungle floor, not a worry in the world. 

---

Time passed. 

It passed quickly and slowly all at once. 

Once you’d found a little town and got on a coach to Medellin, you did what you came to do: identified the body, cleared their names and closed the case. Your duties at your actual job called you back home and less than a day later, you were on a plane home. 

After that, everything was a blur. You tried to keep in contact with everyone, but life was demanding as ever. Thanks to a promotion at work, you were being kept busy 24/7. Santiago finally retired from active duty and moved back to your hometown, near to his parents and to the guys. Even with the group chat he’d made - affectionately titled Plane Pals - it was hard to constantly keep up with everyone. 

You and Frankie had texted for a while, but it sort of faded out. Whenever you were able to make it back home to see him and everyone else, he was busy. You’d both tried to make plans a few times but they’d never come to fruition. You still texted each other happy birthday every year, but that was it. Like that night in the jungle, he quickly became a thing of the past. A distant memory that sometimes felt like a dream. 

It made a good dinner table story, especially for first dates. You told it on many actually, actually -- only one ever went well. So well, in fact, that you’d ended up in a four-year-relationship. A marine biologist called Simon; not boring, but not necessarily exciting either. He was nice...enough. Nice enough that you didn’t find a reason to leave. 

Looking back, you probably had a million reasons to leave. He was an asshole, for one. The last time he’d treated you right had been your first anniversary - and for some reason, you’d stuck around to celebrate your second and third and fourth. Everyone around you was settling down, and you felt that pressure too. 

Even Santiago fucking Garcia, the biggest flirt and bachelor you knew, was getting married. You’d RSVP’d a plus one - Simon, obviously - but the week before you were due to fly home for the wedding, things had finally reached a bitter end. You weren’t sad about him; more sad that you’d wasted four years of your life on the Walmart equivalent to Ned Flanders. 

On the brightside, your brother’s respective relationship had also gone through a shitty demise, meaning you could move your seats at the reception next to one another. Like Santiago, he had also retired from the military and was living his best life - even though it had taken six months for him to start speaking to his friend again. He hadn’t taken well to the idea of Santiago taking you on a job that left you in the middle of the jungle. 

‘People are gonna ask where Simon is, aren’t they?’ You muttered. 

‘Cheer up.’ Your brother nudged you. ‘I know what’ll help - let’s make a bet.’

‘What?’ You groaned. 

You were standing outside the church, waiting to be called inside. You’d waved at Benny and Will as they came in. The latter had kids of his own now, but Benny was focusing on his boxing career. He hadn’t called you Barbie again though, so that was something. 

‘I bet you twenty bucks that Santiago is divorced by the end of the year.’ Your brother grinned. 

‘No! That’s horrible.’ You slapped his arm. 

‘Whatever. That’s $20 you’re missing out on.’

‘I hate that we’re related.’

‘Me too.’

‘Shut up!’

‘You said it first!’

The two of you were cut off by someone clearing their throats.

You almost did a double take when you saw Frankie Morales stood in front of you. He didn’t look that different to his six-year-old Whatsapp profile picture; he wasn’t wearing his hat, instead wearing his hair pushed back, and rather than his old tac vest, he had a suit and tie on. You had a sort of vision of him in your head from that night, but it didn’t do him justice. He was even better in person. 

‘Catfish!’ Your brother jeered. ‘Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes!’ 

‘Says you!’ Frankie gave him a slap on the back. His eyes then fell to you, and his demeanour changed a little. ‘Hey.’

‘Frankie fucking Morales.’ You murmured. ‘How’re you?’

‘Thriving.’ He replied. ‘You?’

‘Also thriving.’ You smiled. 

‘I was sorry to hear about the divorce, man.’ Your brother, as clueless as ever, didn’t sense the sudden onset of tension. 

‘Divorce?’ You blinked in surprise. ‘Is that really something you should bring up-’

‘- you brought up your break up at dinner last week-’

‘- only because you brought up yours first-’

‘- guys!’ Frankie cut you off. ‘It’s fine, really. I appreciate you looking out for me but it was a while ago now. Besides, I’ve got Leya. She takes up all my time.’

‘Leya?’ your eyebrows shot up. ‘Is that your girl-’

You were interrupted by a bell ringing, signalling that it was time for the guests to enter the church. Did the universe hate you? What kind of fucking dreadful timing was that? 

‘I’ll see you guys at the reception, right?’ Frankie asked. 

‘Sure thing, dude.’ Your brother waved him off.

The pilot turned on his heel, giving you a smile as he headed for the church. He was the best man after all, and his presence probably was needed. 

‘You asshole!’ You have his shoulder another whack. ‘I was talking to him!’

‘Jesus, calm down! And why do you hit so hard?’ He huffed. ‘What’s so important?’

‘Who’s Leya?’

‘I dunno! Do I look like Gossip Girl?’

‘Yeah.’

‘You’re mean.’ He grabbed you by the arm, dragging you towards the church entrance. ‘And mum made me promise to make sure you wouldn’t play Doodle Jump during the vows.’

‘That was one time!’ You snapped. 

Thankfully, the actual ceremony passed quicker than you thought. Santiago’s new wife was beautiful -- you hadn’t met Yovanna before, but both her and Santi had greeted you with a bright smile as you entered the reception. It was in a large hotel room, decorated with strings of fairy lights and a large dance floor. A lot of thought had clearly got into it. 

It made you a little sad to think about. How many weddings had you been to in the last five years? How many times had people looked at you and your former boyfriend and said you’ll be next. You weren’t even sad about him. If anything, you were mad that you’d let yourself think about marrying him. You could do better. You were going to do better.

‘Is that girl over there eying me up?’ Your brother’s voice pulled you back to reality. ‘I swear she’s been giving me heart eyes since they brought dessert out.’

‘Which one?’

‘The one in the cute dress! Brown hair, dark eyes-’

‘- that’s Santi’s cousin.’ You rolled your eyes. 

‘And?’

‘Santi’s cousin who is a lesbian?’ You tried to suppress a laugh. ‘Who has been with her wife for 11 years and has three children?’

He groaned. ‘Why must you find such joy in my pain?’

‘It’s what siblings are for.’ You grinned. ‘I’m gonna get a drink. D’you want anything?’

He only let out another groan in response - you took that as a no, simply giving him a pat on the head as you stood up. 

You’d tried to ask around with a few mutual friends if they knew who Leya was -- either they hadn’t seen Frankie in a while, or they pushed to know why you were asking. You couldn’t exactly play that one as suave. Nobody took a casual interest in the personal life of somebody they barely knew -- even though you did know Frankie. Quite well, actually. He’d practically recounted his entire life story to you that night. Told you things that not even Santi knew. 

‘What can I get for you?’ The bartender asked. 

‘Uhhh…’ you glanced up at the menu. ‘Is it an open bar?’

‘If I had enough money for every time someone asked me that tonight, I’d be able to pay for all the drinks.’  She shot back. ‘So, no.’

‘Jeez.’ You muttered. ‘How much for a double rum?’

‘Fifteen bucks.’

‘Fifteen?!’ You spluttered. ‘How much is tap water?’

‘Y’know, I still owe you a drink.’

Like earlier, Frankie had suddenly appeared unannounced. You couldn’t help but grin when you saw him leaning against the bar beside you, a goofy smile plastered across his face and his undone tie wrapped around his left hand. Your eyes flickered up to his forehead, examining it for a minute. 

‘So the stitches didn’t scar?’ You asked. 

He pulled back his hair, shaking his head. ‘Nope.’ 

‘You lucky duck.’ You quipped. ‘So. About that drink?’

‘This shit is insanely overpriced.’ Frankie said. ‘I can steal us a bottle of wine if you’re willing to hide and drink it?

You glanced over at your brother, who was now crying to one of Santiago’s great aunts, piling cake into his mouth. 

‘Yeah. I’m down for that.’ 

--

Five minutes later, you and Frankie were out in the gardens of the hotel. It had been raining all day, but there was an undercover patio not too far from the main reception; the walls were made out of white wood, with red roses trailing up the side. The fairly lights tangled beside them illuminated the place in a gentle glow, blue evening sky providing a beautiful contrast. Even though the showers had stopped, you could still smell the rain in the fresh evening air. 

‘Wine?’ Frankie led you to a seat by the edge of the patio. ‘I stole it from the head table so it's the expensive shit.’

He tore the cork off, handing you the bottle. Neither of you had brought glasses, but you didn’t mind drinking from the same bottle. You’d kissed already - what was the point in formalities? 

‘I hate it to break it to you.’ You paused to wipe your mouth, recovering from the bitter taste. ‘But that’s champagne.’

‘Still alcohol, right?’ He took it from your hands, taking a swig. ‘And it’s free!’

‘You’re right.’ You chuckled. ‘So...I believe we have four years worth of catching up to do.’

‘D’you wanna go first?’ Frankie offered. ‘I heard you got a promotion.’

‘I did, yeah.’ You grinned. ‘It’s a thousand times more work but I get more control over what jobs I take, so that’s good.’

‘Anyone special in your life?’ He asked. 

‘Cut the shit, Frankie.’ You groaned. ‘I know that Santi updates you on every second of my life as it happens.’

‘You got me there. He mentioned a...Steven?’

‘A Simon.’ You corrected. ‘But Dickhead or Asshole works just as well.’

‘Damn, I’m sorry.’ Frankie gave your leg a light squeeze. ‘What happened?’

‘He didn’t deserve me and I stayed with him too long.’ You shrugged. ‘I didn’t think I had a reason to leave.’ 

‘Not having a reason to leave isn’t a reason to stay.’ He murmured. 

You didn’t know whether to bring up the D-Word. D-i-v-o-r-c-e. He hadn’t seemed that phase when your sibling had so eloquently and gently brought it up earlier, but you knew Frankie was good at putting on a front. It was why you’d clashed when you first met. 

‘Am I allowed to ask?’ You quietly said. 

‘It’s nothing bad.’ He shrugged. ‘I mean it is bad, terrible actually, but it was two years ago now. We only got married because she got pregnant and then left the minute our daughter was born.’

‘Leya.’ You didn’t mean to say the name out loud, but it made sense now. ‘Leya is your daughter.’

‘Yeah.’ Frankie warmly smiled. ‘I hate what happened but I’d do it all over again ten times if it meant having her in my life.’

He spent the next few minutes telling you about her. She was named Leya after a certain space princess, though Frankie had changed the spelling to make it less obvious (to which you had argued it was still quite obvious, but a cool name nonetheless). She was currently three years old, often got confused between Spanish and English words, and enjoyed Power Rangers. All in all, she sounded like a great kid. Above all, it was obvious how much she meant to Frankie. His whole face lit up when he spoke about her. Her mum was entirely out the picture, meaning he was doing the whole thing by himself. 

‘She sounds amazing.’ You beamed, peering down at the picture on his phone. ‘She looks so much like you.’

‘Thank God.’ Frankie murmured. ‘I dunno if it being a dad has made me more introspective, but I think about that night a lot.’

‘Me too.’ You replied. ‘Not the thing about being a dad. The other part.’

He laughed. ‘I got that.’

‘What do you think about?’

‘You, mostly.’ He admitted. ‘The fact I was an asshole. The fact you basically saved us all. The fact I never got to take you out for that drink.’

You took a swig of champagne, poking his arm. ‘We’re doing it now!’

‘I know.’ He grinned. ‘I just...I know it was only one night but we might not have been around to tell the story if you hadn't been there.’

‘You were the one who landed the plane safely.’

‘Which wouldn’t have mattered if you didn’t do all the stuff after.’ He reminded you. ‘The thing I think about most, though, is that kiss.’

You froze slightly, head slowly turning to look at him. He was peering down at you now, brown eyes intently gazing at you, not unlike they had the first time you’d been in this position. Now, you weren’t both beyond exhausted, or stuck in the middle of the jungle. You were safe and sound, right here with one another. 

‘It was a pretty good kiss.’ You edged slightly closer towards him. 

‘A very good kiss.’

‘Maybe we should do it-’

Frankie cut you off, meeting your demand before you could even finish it. He was just as you remembered; chapped-but-soft lips with a hint of mint. No tobacco this time. He gently placed a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you further up towards him. It was like you were both reliving the memory of that night in a dream - something you’d done many times. Your memory of it had faded over time but this? This was vivid and giddy and entirely consuming all at once. 

‘You know,’ Frankie pulled back for a moment, keeping his hand on the back of your neck and forehead pressed to yours. ‘I asked Santi about you a few years ago, pretty much the minute I realised I was ready to move on from...her.’ 

‘You did?’ You murmured. 

‘That’s when he said you’d been seeing Simon for a few weeks.’ He admitted. ‘I was gutted. Kept wishing I’d got there first.’

‘I wish you had got to me first.’ You lightly chuckled. ‘It would have saved me a lot of pain.’

‘If I were to ask out now, what would you say?’

‘Fuck yes, obviously.’

‘Good.’ He pressed a brief peck to your lips. ‘I admire the enthusiasm.’

That night - well, actually it had probably been the night in Colombia, depending on who you asked - marked the start of a fresh start for you both. What had initially started out as an attempt to seek solace in one another during a difficult time had led you to something more: something whole, something fulfilling. 

If someone had told you the first time you’d met Frankie Morales that the unfriendly pilot was going to become the best thing that ever happened to you, you probably would have slapped them. Or laughed, or cried, or all three. That night you met, you thought the emotions you were feeling were from the plane crash -- adrenaline and warmth and panic. 

As it would turn out, it was simply the feeling of knowing -- knowing that Frankie Morales was it.

[softluci]

atla hcs

i’ve been thinking about this for a minute, and i wanna do a set of headcanons for how i think the brothers (and eventually the undateables) would feel about certain avatar: the last airbender characters, or something along those lines. i actually just wanted to talk about lucifer and azula, so everything else here is a bonus. this doesn’t matter, but for what it’s worth: wherever the mc pops up, they will be gn, enjoy!

also: this kinda goes without saying, but there are most definitely spoilers in here. for which seasons? i don’t remember, i watched this show when i was nine, but proceed with caution if you have yet to watch it.

lucifer

if it’s one thing you are not gonna play with him about, it is princess azula. this man is an azula supremacist, and while he might not say those words exactly, anyone would be able to tell that’s the case if they talked to him about the show for longer than two minutes. he actually wasn’t even interested in the show until azula showed up, and he will readily admit this to anyone who inquires about it. what makes it funny is the fact that her first appearance is literally, like, ten seconds, so that means he saw her and immediately knew she was the best, which, like—real recognize real. is he projecting? am i projecting? yes, no. in that order. shut up.

he actually almost couldn’t hide how proud he was when azula almost killed aang, this man is deranged. the same way he takes her wins personally, he takes every loss of hers personally as well, so when she lost that agni kai? 🚶‍♂️ 

the average azula enjoyer believes azula should get a redemption arc, lucifer believes azula should simply get whatever she wants, and the difference between those two things is striking.

average azula enjoyer: i believe azula deserves to heal and redeem herself. it isn’t fair that she was left with her tyrannical, abusive father during formative years of her childhood, with no one to help her or show her what it means to be good. she cannot be blamed for the way she turned out. it especially isn’t fair that she gets no redemption for evil things she did at age fourteen, for a year, while the entire show is iroh’s redemption arc, and he was doing evil for decades—he is literally called “the dragon of the west” because of it. additionally—

lucifer morningstar, resident azula supremacist: everything azula did, she was right to do, because i would’ve done the same. there was never a point at which she was wrong, it’s just unfortunate that nobody could keep up with her, her father included. the only reason why she ended up losing, ultimately, is because this is a children’s show, and good is supposed to win out. it was plot armor. if this were realistic, she would’ve beaten everyone—at the very least, she would’ve beaten zuko in the final agni kai, it’s just that he broke the rules and brought backup. at the time of the agni kai, she was literally the strongest firebender in the show. that’s actually the only part of this lucifer is right about, but you can’t tell him that.

if you ask him what his favorite quote in the show is, he’ll immediately say, “i can see your whole history in your eyes. you were born with nothing, so you’ve had to struggle, and connive, and claw your way to power. but true power? the divine right to rule? is something you’re born with.” and he will do it so well that it’ll give you the chills. 

in actuality, his favorite quote is, “i’d really rather our family physician look after little zuzu, if you don’t mind.” it’s just that it doesn’t have the same chilling effect as the first one. 

does he like any other characters? does he even care about any other characters? he has a deep fondness for sokka because he reminds him of mammon.  yes, and they are katara and suki, with honorable mention to avatar kyoshi. 

does he hate any characters? no, but if you mention avatar kuruk or uncle iroh to him, he might get annoyed. is mildly frustrated by aang, but has the sense to cut him some slack for being twelve and the last of his kind. never speak of ozai.

mammon 

toph supremacist. frequent user of the phrase, “toph is just fucking class.” knows for a fact that toph is the best and strongest bender in the entire show, and no one has ever managed to convince him otherwise. mainly because nobody really disagrees. like, have you ever even seen toph slander?

just like lucifer with azula, he wasn’t invested in the show until toph showed up, which, once again, is funny, because technically her very first appearance is only a few seconds long, so that means he saw her for a literal second and just knew. you can’t even be mad at that, real recognize real. 

no one will ever see him more proud than when he’s talking about one toph beifong. he can’t get over her raw, unbridled talent, and he really never should. if you let him (so, if you’re levi), he will spend so much time analyzing her character and every single one of her strengths, from the fact that she’s the only one who knows when azula is lying, all the way down to the fact that even though she projects a tough persona, she can still be vulnerable, AND—

not only is she strong, but her personality is simply untouchable. this girl grows on literally everyone; like, even lucifer likes her, even though he’ll die before saying it out loud. 

he gets so smug whenever someone asks him who his favorite is and it’s because he knows his taste is top tier, and what makes it worse is that no one can even disagree because toph is just that good. 

will never admit it, but he was shaking and crying during the scene where it looked like toph and sokka were literally gonna die. was also gonna cry when toph almost drowned. basically: he is eternally grateful to suki. 

his favorite line in the entire show is, “i am the greatest earthbender in the world! don’t you two dunderheads ever forget it.” it’s just fucking class.

does he like any other characters? he sees himself in sokka, he’ll tell you that much. he also knows that satan and lucifer like sokka because of him, and he found out because he heard them talking about it. to their joint dismay, they turned to see him standing behind them, grinning like an idiot, and they couldn’t even scare him into leaving them alone when he hugged both of them at the same time because, one, they didn’t really want to, and two, they couldn’t turn off their fondness for him fast enough ^_^. did they reciprocate his hug? did they stay like that for a little bit? did lucifer kiss the tops of their heads? maybe so🤨

does he hate any characters? not really, but he doesn’t particularly like azula because she scares him and makes him sad, like lucifer and doesn’t see her appeal. once tried to make a case for why she shouldn’t have a redemption arc and felt painfully human from the way he almost died. do not mention toph’s parents to him. the name ozai should also never be on your tongue.

levi 

resident sokka enjoyer and suki appreciator. do not ever call sokka dumb in front of this man unless you want a proper lecture. unlike a few of his brothers, he doesn’t like sokka just because of his similarities to mammon. he also likes sokka because he relates to him on a personal level. 

levi absolutely knows what it’s like to feel inadequate and outshined by people younger than you. he absolutely knows what it’s like to feel like your competence is overlooked. while he might be unfamiliar with how it feels to strategize for a war and lose a battle, but it is one of his biggest fears and it absolutely crushed him to see sokka go through that. 

on a lighter note, levi has a deep appreciation for sokka’s comedic value, despite the fact that it can overshadow his intelligence. levi would actually venture to say that he likes sokka’s funnier side because it overshadows his intelligence to the point that it throws the opposition for a loop. this is the aspect of sokka that reminds him of mammon. 

it also seriously warmed his heart to see how everyone missed sokka while he was away for sword training; he especially liked that episode because it was just an affirmation of the fact that sokka is an integral part of team avatar, which he really needed to see. 

you know who else is an integral part of team avatar who needs to be recognized as such more often? suki. do you know how much pain levi is in every time he thinks about the lack of suki screentime . it’s a lot . suki is just too good for the amount of screentime she has, he’s sorry, but it’s true. this is evidenced by the scene of her literally running across prisoners’ heads to apprehend the warden of boiling rock. that scene speaks for itself—she and the other kyoshi warriors end up as zuko’s body guards for a reason. 

he will never let anyone forget that if it weren’t for suki, sokka would still be a misogynist. she was an essential element to sokka’s growth as a character and everyone had better remember it or so help him. also , he is a firm believer in the fact that suki was the best love interest for sokka, with zuko as a close second. don’t ask questions. rip yue but argue with the wall.

his favorite line in the series? 

“zuko’s gone crazy! i made a sand sculpture of suki, and he destroyed it! oh, and he’s attacking aang.” 

it’s not profound or cool or anything like that, but it makes him smile and giggle every time he thinks of it ^_^. 

does he like any other characters? he has a lot of love for toph and azula for the sole fact that the series improved exponentially after both of their introductions; he thinks both of them are in leagues of their own and seeing them in action just puts a smile on his face. he’s also inexplicably fond of king bumi. 

does he hate any characters? not particularly, actually! he pretty much respects and appreciates everyone, except the guy who mutilated his thirteen year old son for speaking out of turn.

satan 

just pick a girl. any girl. and from the way he talks about them, you’ll think they’re his favorite. he can and will go on about the girls of atla for the rest of eternity.

but since we’re being specific:

katara appreciator. azula enjoyer. basically, between him and lucifer, no tongue raised against azula shall prosper. he has a deep respect for each of their wraths. he also really must have a thing for angst because both of these characters just break his heart. 

if you let him (in other words, if you’re levi), he will go on about how it’s not fair that people call katara annoying when, in reality, she just hasn’t healed from the trauma of seeing her mother’s corpse at age eight, followed by having to take care of her village, meaning she got literally no time to grieve properly, and—

call katara annoying in front of him and you might actually have to meet god for your shallow views of such a deep, complex character. 

he will also go on and on about how katara would be the best bender in the show, if it weren’t for toph, who is untouchable. instead, he’ll talk about how katara almost killed pakku for being misogynistic and how she single handedly beat azula during sozin’s comet. you will frequently hear this man say, “katara aang’s master for a reason,” and he’s right. 

similar to if you call katara annoying, if you call azula scary in front of satan, he’s bullying you. he’s sorry, but it has to happen. no way you’re scared of a traumatized fourteen year old, what are you, eight? or do you have no understanding of azula’s depth? both are unacceptable. 

satan is the average azula enjoyer, times about seven. you simply won’t get away with speaking poorly of azula in front of this man, so if you’re like mammon and don’t like her, you better tread very carefully. 

one time mammon tried to be like, “azula is too far gone to deserve redemption anyways,” and satan literally reverted to his demon form as he said: “if i were abandoned with my terrible father as a child, with literally no one to help me, and then my friends betrayed me, and then, as i was about to be crowned ruler of my country, my dumb fucking idiot brother showed up with his dumb peasant friend for backup, which isn’t even allowed, i might be mad forever too, actually—” and then he threw the nearest chair at mammon for his criminally bad take.

another reason why satan loves azula so much is because he’s convinced she’s a lesbian and satan is the most “let’s go lesbians!!!” person you will ever meet. you actually can’t convince him that she isn’t a lesbian. forget chan. nobody gives a fuck about chan.

what’s his favorite line in the entire series? 

“trust me, zuko—it’s not going to be much of a match.” 

like, come on. katara is just too good. 

does he like any other characters (other than the girls of atla)? he’ll never admit it, but he has a lot of respect for sokka and a soft spot for him because he reminds him of mammon. he also has a lot of respect for aang because he reminds him of beel of how well he handled literally everything despite being twelve. 

does he hate any—yes. never speak of avatar roku. or iroh. or ozai. for good measure, don’t mention general zhao either. 

asmo 

what lucifer is to azula, asmo is to ty lee. like do i even have to say anything else. but for what it’s worth, he also love, love, loves azula because she reminds him of lucifer, from her strength and class, all the way down to her descent into madness. and even though she breaks his heart just as much as she does satan’s. he may or may not have cried over azula in satan’s room while they were talking about her. unlike lucifer and satan, he can respect it if you don’t like her, but it’ll make him so sad. 

but enough about azula. ty lee is where it’s at for him. her subtle strength and unwavering love is something to die for, and he will defend it against anyone, up to and including lucifer, and he’ll win too. asmo is not to be trifled with and neither is ty lee; he can make a strong argument as to why ty lee is the strongest character in the show, and you will have a very hard time trying to refute his points. (the main point being: it’ll be really hard to win a fight against someone who can paralyze you in a few seconds, bender or not.)

the fact that ty lee ran away from home because she was tired of the fact that nobody ever saw her as her own person is just something that tugs at asmo’s heartstrings. he thinks ty lee’s bravery is just something that can be so personal. 

also—he has a massive appreciation for the fact that, even though there’s a war going on and ty lee is in near-constant danger, she still has the sense to maintain her appearance and worry about the skincare of not just herself, but also people she’s close to. that is a detail he will never let anyone forget. 

never mentions it in front of lucifer but one of his favorite scenes is when she paralyzes azula to save mai. once again: ty lee’s bravery is just something that can be so personal. 

he doesn’t have a favorite line in the series, but his favorite exchange of dialogue is between ty lee and azula, wherein ty lee is trying to teach azula how to flirt. he thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world.

does he like any other characters? of course! he likes everyone ^_^ . you’d actually be hard pressed to find someone he hates. ozai. it’s ozai. he has a real soft spot for mai because she reminds him of belphie. something about their shared aversion to affection is just so cute to him!

beel

aang supremacist, will hold steadfast to the fact that aang is the best character in the show and you will struggle to figure out how to convince him otherwise. 

if you ask him why aang is his favorite, the first thing he will do is gesture to a picture of him and say, “look at the material,” like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, before diving into a ten minute in depth character analysis for this boy. 

come on. he shouldn’t even have to explain himself. not only is aang one of the strongest, most competent avatars to exist, ever, he also mastered all four elements in a year, when he was twelve—he’s literally a different breed. and he managed to beat ozai in his own way, without killing him, as a means of staying true to a culture that could have literally died with him at any point in the show. aang is just fucking class.

he also admires aang for his near unwavering kindness and lighthearted nature. and for never going berserk and killing everyone he sees, especially after finding out his people were killed while he was in ice.

you have no idea how much pain beel was in when he found out that the air nomads were just gone. seeing a child find out that not only their family is gone, but also the entirety of their people and culture, just absolutely broke his heart. and that guilt aang was feeling? hit way too close to home for him. 

he also thinks it’s really nice that aang was so quick to forgive zuko after everything, and the two of them ended up being really good friends. it just puts a smile on his face. 

after some reflection with levi, he would’ve liked to see the full scope of an airbender’s power in the series; as in, he would’ve liked to see someone suffocated, but it’s okay, because aang wasn’t like that.  and he heard it happens in the next series over.

anyway, beel’s favorite quote in the show...well, it isn’t really a quote, as much as it’s a dialogue between two characters. it’s the scene where toph asks, “do you really think friendships can last more than one lifetime?” and aang says, “i don’t see why not.” it could bring a tears to his eyes just thinking about it; and in the next series over when it’s proven to be true, he absolutely cried. 

does he like any other characters? he’s actually really fond of zuko and mai because they both remind him of belphie. he also likes sokka for the same reason lucifer and satan like sokka. he has a deep appreciation for katara because aang would literally be dead without if it weren’t for her.

does he hate any characters? well, he doesn’t really like azula. he feels bad for her, but he doesn’t like her. but as for who he hates? take a wild guess. 

belphie 

zuko makes him sob is his number one. yes zuko is his favorite because of his redemption arc, yes he sees himself in zuko, no he will not explain any further than that, what’s your point🤨

in actuality, he will never be able to properly articulate how important it is for him to see that redemption is, indeed, attainable, if you put the work in. in a similar vein, he will also never be able to give words to how important it is for him to see that forgiveness is also attainable.  it means the world to him. that is why it makes him cry. the feeling is overwhelming. i’m gonna cry if i think about it for too long.

he will cling to the fact that zuko is the best character in the show, and he will cling to it even when zuko embarrasses him by saying stupid shit like, “no lightning today?” and even when zuko is so awkward it causes him physical pain. that’s his number one and he’s not changing on it!

firm zukka supporter. will not argue. that’s all.

what’s his favorite line in the entire series? it’s one of the two you’re thinking of. make that decision for yourself.

does he like any other characters? he positively adores aang and will readily admit that it’s because he reminds him of beel. bonus points for aang because he also loves the dynamic between him and zuko. toph is a distant third, mainly because he just really likes her attitude. he looks at her and thinks, now this is someone who would not hesitate to kick lucifer’s ass. 

does he hate any characters? you better believe it. he hates iroh because he reminds him of dia. he can’t really bring himself to like azula because she makes him a different kind of sad. and if you know what’s good for you, you will never mention ozai. 

[asgardianthot]

Flesh And Bones – Part 9

Soulmate AU

Series Masterlist

A/N: oof this took a while! second to last :( gonna miss cracking my head with this fic lol never again shall I just wing it without a clear idea of how to end a story.

*Important: Hydra base scene but I won’t depict a tortured Bucky, he doesn’t always have to suffer at the expense of his ex-captors and I’m honestly getting tired of the obscene amount of torture fics out there!! Consider this an anti-trigger warning but also a threat? Idk enjoy

The anguish never went away.

Two days later, Bucky found himself knocking on Sam’s door, his heart on his hand.

There was no answer behind the thick walls, but Bucky knew he was there. Somehow, he felt it deep in his bones.

"You okay?" he asked.

The sound was muffled inside Sam’s room, both from the structure separating them and the external sounds that made their way in through the open window. There, Sam rested both hands on the lower frame as he stared outside, more focused on the wind and noise that drowned down his thoughts than the actual view. Bucky’s interruption made him realize he didn’t know for how long he’d stayed in that frozen position.

He slid down the window until it hit its frame, "Yeah, why?” he lied nonchalantly.

His mind was racing. As time passed and brought the team closer to the Hydra raid, Sam worried for Bucky. Not that he wasn’t prepared or that he was being reckless, because he knew that wasn’t the case. What had him worrying was the idea of Hydra potentially targeting Bucky. Although Natasha had assured him a million times that there was absolutely no chances that this was a trap, Sam’s mind couldn’t help but wander around horrible ‘what if’s, ones that compromised his soulmate because Hydra’s finest assassin had escaped them, so they were likely to want revenge on the man. Maybe even try to get him back under their grasp. And if Sam was deprived from the option of saving him, he wouldn’t know how to live anymore.

Bucky’s answer, however, got his head out of the dark cloud.

"I don't know. I feel weird." Barnes mumbled from across the door, loud enough to be heard though.

The last three words alone were enough to bring Sam towards the closed door. Bucky felt him. He felt weird, and wondered if Sam was alright, and he went to check up on him. As soon as he faced the mildly pouty lip, the big brown eyes, the badly concealed worried frown, he wished for nothing else than to kiss that pout away.

Which he did very aggressively. Sam brought his body against Bucky’s, he cupped the brunette’s face by his raspy cheeks and crashed their lips together. He didn’t wait for Bucky’s tongue to dance with his, he made it. When they stopped to regain their breaths, and the make out was over, Bucky looked confused, but in the best way possible.

He caught his breath with an amused look, "Okay."

Sam wanted to laugh with him, address his flourishing emotions, but his worry was far greater. So he showed the man inside and gestures to follow him. They both sat at the end of Sam’s bed.

“Yeah, there’s something wrong.” Sam admitted.

Barnes’ tone became sterner and more precautious, “What?”

Wilson held his hand before speaking.

"Tony said there's no rules or anything.” He reminded the latter of their informative chat with Stark, “But he did make it seem like there was some sort of... I don't know, some sort of progression.”

"What do you mean?"

Sam inclined his head like he was pushing himself to say the next thing out loud, "You've been really nervous lately."

Bucky didn’t flinch, yet he wasn’t comfortable either. The idea of Sam knowing that, finding out that he wasn’t as relaxed about the raid as he wished to play it out, was a quick disappointment.

"Guess you could say that." He looked away.

"I know that.” Sam emphasized the word while at the same time lowering his volume to attain a more intimate tone, “I don't think I should be able to."

Bucky simply shrugged.

"Why can I tell when you're anxious?” He had to insist on his concern. “How come you do too? It doesn't make any sense. Unless..."

"Hey.” The soldier stopped him, already knowing what scenario Sam was forming inside his head, “There's no step back here.”

Given Bucky’s certainty was convincing, and he was becoming aware of the fact that he was overthinking, Sam still couldn’t shake off the sour feeling of approaching danger.

“You’re supposed to be the sane one here, Sammy.” Bucky laughed, which brought a warm feeling deep in Sam’s chest because of the employed nickname, “We're okay. It doesn't have to mean anything, remember?"

That was enough for Sam’s heart rate to drop considerably. Bucky managed to calm him like that.

"Thank you.” Sam said genuinely.

Nevertheless, Bucky could read him. Hell, he could feel his dark feelings not shifting away. So he went into the gray zone he didn’t think he would be approaching anytime soon.

“Is it because of Riley?” he dared to bring up the subject.

Sam was more than taken aback, but he blinked to dissimulate. They had only ever talked about Riley once before, in another heart-to-heart, and it had brought tears to Sam’s eyes. Bucky knew everything, their friendship that was always something more, the love declarations left unsaid, the part where they saved each other’s asses in Afghanistan. Riley was the reason why Sam trusted the universe to be kind, even without a soulmate. He was the reason Sam told everyone you can love without a bond, because that memory was all that was left of the dead man.

“What do you mean?” he let the words out minimally.

“Are you afraid to lose me like you lost him?”

Sam shook his head, rejecting the mere thought of comparing the two men, almost desperately. There were open wounds that he hadn’t had the courage to heal yet. He cleared his throat and tried to shrug it off.

“He, uhm… He didn’t have that crazy serum of yours.” Sam faked an absent mind, although he failed, “You’re not the same.”

Bucky could see right through him.

“Exactly, I’m not Riley.” He grabbed Sam’s chin endearingly. “I heal fast, and you’ll feel me the entire time, and I get that you’re scared, but so am I. It’s why we got each other, right?”

Sam’s vision became less blurry when his soaked eyes dropped a single tear each. They rolled down his cheeks and were wiped away by Bucky’s thumb.

“I promise you won’t lose me.” He ensured his soulmate, who allowed himself to be held and rocked until he felt like talking again.

-

“Everyone on comms?” Steve’s voice barged into everyone’s earpieces.

As soon as the five other voices replied, Rogers gave them the orders required to execute the raid perfectly.

The first two floors would be empty, according to their lead, for they mainly consisted of dirty  storage units meant to distract anyone from even getting close to finding the real base. So, those floors were their entrance and their escape, if ever needed. Hopefully, they would imprison everyone, realistically speaking, a few would be taken out in the process, perhaps killed. Whatever may come out of the raid, Steve Rogers had a whole alphabet of backup plans.

First off, they had to disperse. Steve and Rhodey walked upstairs as silently as possible, reaching the third floor in minutes. Meanwhile, Bucky and Natasha moved forward and explored the premises with their guards up. Romanoff’s excuse to pair with him was that they both had experience with these kind of organizations, although they everyone was rather aware of the fact that she was keeping an eye on the man Sam was worried about. Bucky ignored the reason behind it, and made no comment as the pair was left behind by Sam and Wanda, who walked upstairs.

When the first line of Avengers broke down the door in one swift blow, shield and blasters up with anticipation, they found the entire floor empty. After a confused glance between Rhodes and Rogers, they lurked around every single corner and behind every single door. Nothing.

“This wing is clear.” Rhodey said through his earpiece.

Although it didn’t seem to upset the rest of the team half as much, Sam was experiencing his fair share of anxiety. He looked up to the ceiling, as if he could burn a whole straight through and peak at the floor in question.

“Where are they?” He whispered to himself.

A minute later, Steve sent another command, “I need guns on the front line.”

Barnes rolled his eyes in mocking of his best friend.

“Nobody talks like that, Stevie.” He taunted him.

Yet Steve didn’t appreciate the joke, for he was far too tense. His eyes moved around frantically, looking for a possible trap, which his paranoia was leading to.

“Guns first.” He repeated himself clearly, “Something feels off.”

But nobody got there. Before Bucky or Natasha could even reach the stairs, a set of loud noises surrounded them. In every floor, metal doors fell from the ceiling, blocking exits and doors. These doors weren’t too intense, but their tech hadn’t picked up on them, which meant they were expected. Every Avenger found themselves trapped in their respective zones. As for Barnes and Romanoff, they were too apart from each other to even see the other’s face.

So, deep in his fear, Bucky raised his gun and checked every wall his sight could reach, almost waiting to be attacked. If Natasha was completely honest, she would have bet Bucky was a target, as well. That is what everyone’s minds went to, especially Sam’s. Luckily, he had the company of Wanda right next to him to feel calmer.

"Everyone okay?" Rhodes checked.

Sam and Wanda replied with their status and whereabouts, but after a lack of response from the other two, the man confirmed their status on his wrist screen, only to see that Barnes and Romanoff were off-line. He figured they must’ve been trapped downstairs.

"We gotta move fast.” Steve ordered, keeping his Captain-like calm, “Try to get to the control panels, if not, evacuate. They know we're here."

Wanda and Sam. Walking slowly. Careful. Not many places to hide, but there must be a way out.

“He’s okay.” Wanda let Sam know.

They walked side by side, as slowly as possible. There weren’t many places to hide nor another entrance that they knew of, on the second floor, yet they remained precautious.

“What?” Sam let out without paying much attention.

“I’m saying, he can take care of himself.”

Once Sam understood that Wanda was playing the best friend card in letting him know she knew Bucky to be strong, he realized he probably looked too worried.

He fought back his frown. “I know that. I’m just…”

“Anxious?”

“We’re trapped in an underground intelligence base,” He sighed loudly, “shouldn’t I be?”

The statement earned an acknowledging nod from Wanda, who waited a few more seconds to press his earpiece and reach the Captain.

“Steve? You think it’s okay if I tear down a wall?” She asked for permission to jump into action.

“No.” Steve denied her dryly, “Bucky and Nat are on their own, we won’t engage until they’re safe.”

The young woman shut her eyes with annoyance, “Okay, Steve? You’re not helping Sam stay calm.”

She received no further comments. Everyone felt too powerless after all. No comments.

Down in the bottom storage, the place began to look more like a maze. It was a mess of similar, dusty hallways and old, closed doors. Natasha tried each and every single one of them, but they were useless, and she figured they wouldn’t get her anywhere, anyway. It might as well have been an underground cellblock.

“Barnes, give me a sign.” She asked for a second time.

Bucky indulged her, complying with her attempts at finding each other. Together meant safer.

He thought hard about his whereabouts, “East wing’s on my… left side.”

“I can’t get through to anyone else.” Romanoff finally said what seemed obvious to both of them.

The soldier couldn’t help but take a deep, calming breath, for it was a much needed one. He gripped his gun harder, trying to ease himself.

“Me neither.” His mouth spoke in disconnection with his brain, which was submerged in paranoia by now.

Natasha could sense that.

“We’re okay.” She did her best at calming him realistically, as she looked around for a way to find him, “You said east wing? I think I got you, Barnes.”

Suddenly, a gunshot was clearly heard, making Natasha turn around in a haze, only to find herself alone, and realize that the shot came from afar.

“Crap.” Bucky groaned, his communicator still on.

After the sound of three other guns and what appeared to be Bucky’s rapid machinegun, the woman panicked.

“Talk to me.” She ordered him.

"I got hostiles!" Barnes screamed over the noise of his own weapon.

As soon as Natasha realized she could hear where the attack came from, she followed the echo, running. Eventually, the sound drowned out.

“Bucky?” she asked, fear crippling through her.

There was no reply but the sound of Bucky panting. She managed to find a grilled gate, which she shot and kicked open easily, all the while her mind raced to the worst case scenario. Sam had trusted her with his soulmate’s life.

Finally, she hit the scene: two dead bodies on the floor, both hostiles. The soulmate’s life was still intact.

“Good, you’re alive.” She breathed out, pretending she wasn’t just losing her mind mere seconds ago.

Nevertheless, she quickly noticed that Bucky’s panting was linked to whatever made him hold his ribs so painfully. Then, Bucky removed his flesh hand from that zone in order to look at it, revealing to both of them that the hand was covered in blood. As terrified as Natasha was, her expression couldn’t match Bucky’s.

"You’re shot." She stated with wide eyes.

Bucky swallowed hard, "We have to find Sam." He said roughly.

As Romanoff processed Bucky’s fear, the latter looked around for an out in desperation. He was worried that Sam was hurt. Sam, who couldn’t bleed out from a soul bond wound, while Bucky had his fingers pressed against a pool of red.

"He'll live.” Natasha approached him carefully, “You, on the other hand..."

Barnes shook his head. "Sam first."

-

Wanda was known to save the day without too much effort. Turns out, the Hydra base was covered in desperate traps because they were too vulnerable to withstand a raid. Therefore, the witch tore down the metal walls and flew up to help Rhodey and Steve, who didn’t need too much aid as it was. Sam stayed down, fully aware that the other three were probably kicking ass, and still worrying. He ran downstairs as soon as the blockade was taken care of, in need of finding Bucky safe and sound, even if he knew that he was.

And he knew he was okay, because Sam himself hadn’t felt a single sting. Not a gunshot, not a bruise, not even a scratch.

So, if Sam felt untouched, then Bucky must be.

Finally, he heard the pair, and found them at the bottom of the stairs. He jogged the last few steps and noticed that Bucky was holding himself up against the wall, limping. The latter looked up with big, concerned eyes.

"You okay?" He asked Sam.

That was when Sam saw the bloody hand pressed against his soulmate’s chest. Natasha was helping him stay on his own two feet, while Bucky examined Sam’s body like his own life depended on it. Technically, that was the whole deal. Wilson pushed his own hand against Bucky’s and frowned.

"Did you get shot?" he shouted in despair, his eyes as big and afraid as ever.

"I'm sorry. I tried-" Bucky tried, but cut himself off with a grunt of pain.

"Buck." Sam grabbed his torso.

"Let's go home." Bucky begged.

"Yes. We will.” Sam’s tone became serious and authoritarian, “Sit down."

"I'm fine."

"He's losing a lot of blood." Natasha confirmed Samuel’s suspicions.

In between the frantic commands and worrisome looks, Bucky couldn’t help but notice Sam’s lack of discomfort. Almost like he hadn’t felt a gunshot in his chest a few minutes ago.

He frowned with confusion, "Why are you-?"

"I didn't feel it.” Sam shrugged it off, way more focused on the open wound, “Sit down. Bucky."

"What do you mean-?"

"I didn't. Bucky!” Sam grabbed the face of the stubborn, hurt man with his free hand, smearing blood all over his cheek, and yelled to his face. “James! Listen! There was no bond. Right now, that's not important. You're bleeding out."

"They didn't hurt you?" Bucky seemed to finally understand.

“No!”

The new information hit Bucky like a soft, warm wave of tranquility. If Sam wasn’t hurt, if Hydra hadn’t hurt Sam, then he didn’t need to worry. He could breathe. And as he breathed, he felt a sharp pain in his chest, along with some heavy dizziness.

"That's good." He mumbled, looking past Sam with lost eyes.

"It is. Now calm the fuck down." Wilson begged, trying to take a good look of the wound.

Bucky nodded, finally compliant, "Okay."

With that last word, Bucky’s eyes rolled back into his skull, and he surrendered to tiredness. He stopped feeling anything other than her very light head, until everything went black.

"Shit.” Sam cursed under his breath, catching him before he hit the ground completely.

He eased his partner’s fall and let the passed out body rest against the wall.

“Give me a hand.” He asked Natasha.

They managed to sit him straight against the wall, in order for Sam to press his hand against the bleeding gunshot. Nat said something over the communicators for the rest of the team, which Sam didn’t fully catch, before she knelt down next to her friend. She examined the wound, then Bucky’s pupils and let out a breath.

“He’s gonna be fine.” She appeased Sam.

“I know.” Sam said without giving it too much of a thought.

The woman gave him a wondering look.

Sam merely shook his head with uncertainty, “I just do.”

[adoreyou303]

Sweet Creature (H.S. Fic)

CW: fainting

Chapter Five

Nothing compares to your first time. Your first kiss. Your first shower after a week camping. Your first broken bone. Your first time back after a traumatic experience. She expects an intense rush of emotion, especially considering the secret nestled in her midsection; however, once she walks through the doors of the arena, she feels mildly… flat. 

Soundcheck feels painfully like going through the motions, and all she wants to do is get it over with. There is nothing worse than feeling like the thing you once loved has turned into a chore. And, either the intense heat of the stage lights or the being currently leaching off of her body’s nutrients is causing intense dizziness that she can’t shake off. Fortunately, she has the mic stand to cling onto, helping to hold her upright. When she feels like she just about can’t take it anymore, she hears a familiar voice on the area floor. Cupping her hand over her eyes to try to make out the figures, she speaks into her mic.

“Is that Harry? Can you send him up here?” she pleads, just a little too desperate. She pulls at her in-ear monitors, still grasping the stand in case her body decides to give out on her. 

“Mel? You alright?” Harry inquires, practically shoving a water bottle into her hand. She nods her head yes, but flashes him a look of panic. “Why don’t we go have a sit in the dressing room, yeah?” 

Not waiting for an answer, he wraps his arm around her, taking nearly all her weight. The draining color of her face alerts him that something isn’t right. When had she last eaten? Did something trigger her? Is it the baby? No one knew about the last part, so he couldn’t say anything just yet. He had to be absolutely sure if he was going to speak up. 

When they reached the dressing room, Harry gently set her on the couch. He brought the water bottle up to her lips, which she gratefully accepted. 

“Alright?” he asked softly. She nodded, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Are you going to be able to do the show tonight?” 

“I think so. I think I just got a little overwhelmed, being back in an arena and all,” she lies, reaching out to hold the water bottle. She wants to tell him that every cell in her body hurts and all she wants to do is take a bubble bath then crawl into bed while wearing her comfiest PJs, but she has a job to do. 

“I’ll be out there with you. You remember what to do if you need to stop?” 

She showed the hand signal they came up with, which universally meant to everyone to continue playing until whoever needs to get off is off safely. 

Harry stays with Melanie right up until she is needed on stage. It’s only once she’s up there safely that he goes to change into his own outfit.

Before he turns to walk toward his dressing room, he takes in the sight before him. She’s gleaming in the lights. Guitar strapped to her chest, her eyes closed as if the music was leading her home. She makes it look easy, the way her fingers fly over the strings and frets like they were made to do it. A smile dances on his lips as he watches her get closer to the mic in a passionate swell of the bridge to the chorus. He remembers the first time he saw her lipstick-stained microphone. He teased her relentlessly for how close she got to the mic that her lip products transferred onto the stainless steel. A rose tint crept its way up her cheeks every time she put the finishing touches on her makeup. What color was going to embrace the microphone tonight? When was it going to be his turn? 

All was going well- or so it seemed. She enjoys her job, really. What she didn’t realize, however, was how intense it would be with the new addition to her body. She apologizes to her fans, citing a sleepless night for her unusual lack of energy. They pay it no mind, screaming for both her and Harry, shouting lyrics, and giving all the love to their band. Really, she couldn’t be more grateful. 

Under the sweltering lights, Melanie feels beads of sweat prickling at the back of her neck. Her chest tightens with every breath she is able to huff out. Somewhere between Mitch’s guitar solo and a dreamy duet with Harry, her hands began to shake. The shaking begins to intensify as the heat in her body rises. What’s worse, no amount of water she consumes seems to quench her thirst or settle the heat radiating from her body. 

Desperately trying to catch Harry’s attention, she turns towards him, back facing the audience. He’s too busy entertaining the crowd to notice she’s signaling the band to stop. Sarah and Mitch notice right away, watching with worried eyes as she continues to hold the signal waiting for everyone to notice. When it’s clear he isn’t going to notice in time, Sarah and Mitch take over, changing the set to help cover. 

Harry whips around to question why his band just skipped a chunk of songs, but instead, he notices Melanie inching further and further from the front of the stage. Her skin, usually flushed under the lights, is oddly grey. Her eyes are wide and distant, as if she was looking through him. He takes a second to get a look at her, taking in as much as he can before something in him screams this isn’t right. 

He pulls his mic stand upright and starts walking over to her, mouthing “You okay?” over the music. Instead of an answer, her knees buckle, her body collapsing. He crosses the stage faster than ever, catching her in his arms before her head hits the hard stage. Gasps and murmurs fill the arena along with the sound of shutters and the flashes of cameras. But that didn’t matter to him. All he could focus on was her and the way her eyes flutter underneath her eyelids. 

“Come on, Melanie. Wake up, wake up,” he chants, lightly tapping her cheeks. All kinds of people rush out to help, surrounding the two from any kind of pictures or video. 

“We should move her. It’ll be safer to have her backstage,” one stage crew member suggested, gesturing to the crowd behind him.

“We aren’t moving her until she wakes up,” Harry growls, pushing the hair out of her face. He didn’t mean to be rude. He is always kind to everyone helping backstage. At this moment, he just feels frightened, like someone is going to take away his best friend. The person he loves. He feels the need to protect her right here, right now. Always.

“Harry?” she whispers, her eyes blinking rapidly trying to focus.

“Hey, love. How’re you feeling? You alright?”

“What? What happened?” she questions, her voice weak and tired.

“You fainted. You’re okay now.”

“What? In the middle of the concert??” she starts, her eyes getting big. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” 

Harry stays with Melanie until she is more alert and ready to stand. Ushers at the venue shut down the concert and lead most ticket holders out of the arena. There would be no continuing the concert. 

“They won’t be mad at you, Mel. They literally saw you faint. It’s not like you decided to go on vacation and not refund their tickets,” Harry sighed, rubbing her calf gently. 

“I can’t do my job anymore,” she voices, her throat tight with tears. 

“You can, love. It’s just a matter of figuring out your new boundaries. This was your first show back. You’ll get the hang of it, promise,” he whispers, placing a gentle kiss to the smooth skin of her leg. The simple gesture sent her heart into a frenzy. She didn’t know if he meant it platonically or if he knew how much his touch drove her crazy, but if she could stay here with him in this moment forever, she would be happy.

[honeyjaez]

Maze of Miroh- Chapter 17: Dinner with a bit of Angst

Authors Note:

HELLO LOVES. IM SLEEPY. 

Anyways, this is a shorter chapter, but it sets up the highlight of this arc, which Im really excited about. Hope it isnt’ too shit haha.

The Under

 An echo of a bell rang through Minho’s ears as they pushed through the door and into the little shack.  He looked around and noticed small tables were placed throughout the area with wooden walls attached to the side, blocking people from others' sight.

Minho felt a familiar prickle of anxiety as he looked around. He always hated small, secluded places and actively avoided them. But he forced himself to relax and smiled slightly when he recognized Yunho’s fluffy brown hair in the back corner. He bowed to the neighboring table as he made his way through the store, Jisung at his side. As he did so, he heard Chan behind him stop near the entrance, calling out to someone, but Minho didn’t turn around to listen.

 Minho caught San settling down next to Wooyoung who was situated on Yunho’s side When the young thief's eyes caught Minho’s he smiled, gesturing him over.

 He swallowed a ball of saliva loudly. On one hand, he was glad San and him were okay, but he was also still VERY wary of the blond. Luckily, before he was forced to respond, Jisung tugged on Minho’s arm roughly towards Yunho’s other side, settling down in the other vacant seat.

 As Minho followed suit, he could see in the corner of his eye, San giving Jisung a rather nasty glare, but the younger's only response was to stick his tongue out, mocking him. Minho felt his eyes rolling automatically, choosing to ignore both of their antics. He instead turned towards Yunho, giving the doctor a small smile.

 “Glad you could take a break for a bit.” he said earnestly. Truthfully speaking, he was  rather glad to see a nice member of Hongjoong’s crazy group.

 Yunho took a sip of his water, nodding appreciatively “The other doctors can handle the situation for the night. I'm starving!”

 Jisung broke his glaring contest with San to look over at the doctor, concern sparkling in his eyes. “There were a lot of sick people in there….Is there some sort of sickness going around?” 

 Yunho’s eyes flashed towards Jisung, and his smile grew tired as he ducked his head. “Nothing we can’t handle....Just a common thing at this time around….”

 Minho's eyes narrowed as he caught the hesitation in Yunho’s voice. He looked to Jisung and could tell that the younger caught the tone as well. 

  There is something he isn’t telling us… 

 He opened his mouth, ready to ask the younger boy what exactly it meant, but, before he could, he was interrupted by Chan, who was walking up to their table with two new faces Minho had never seen before.

 “Except for its not….”  he said matter-of-factly “Is it Yunho?”

 His words were harsh, but Minho couldn’t read his leader's face as he gazed down at the young doctor. Yunho who was looking up at the curly haired blond only chuckled  humorlessly, a twinge of guilt passing through his eyes. 

 “There is nothing you don’t see, is there Bang Chan?”

 Chan cracked a small smile and shrugged softly, “It’s a blessing and a curse.” 

 The older boy then turned and looked at the two of them, motioning to the strangers on his side. “Minho. Jisung. “ he started “I want you to meet two more of Hongjoong’s crew. This is Jongho and Mingi.”

 The shorter one, Jongho, only gazed hard at them, a single nod of his head before setting down next to San. Mingi, on the other hand, stayed standing, and gave a wide toothy grin. “Sup! I heard you kicked San’s ass earlier. Care to give me pointers?”

  “Uhhhh…” If a human could sweatdrop, Minho sure was. Luckily for him, the conversation was interrupted by Wooyoung hissing in annoyance at the pair. 

 “It’s not something to joke about Mingi! San could have died!”

 Mingi’s only response was to roll his eyes at the silver haired boy, settling down in his spot at the table, “Please Woo. Don’t be dramatic.”

 “Yeah” Yunho agreed, pouring a glass of water for everyone “Like San would be stupid enough to die from something like that.”

 “That being said” Jongho spoke for the first time, voice hard as ice, looking at the blond with a small amount of contempt “Why didn’t you avoid the rocks?”

 All eyes were on San now who looked at them all innocently. His eyes were wide as he stuffed his cheeks with rice. Minho gave a small laugh as the food piled up in his cheeks, puffing them out like squirrels.  So Jisung isn’t the only one who does that huh….

 As he heard Minho’s quiet laugh, San’s eyes suddenly shifted onto his, his face forming into a smirk, winking at the older. “What can I say?” he said lightly, swallowing the food in his mouth. “Maybe I wanted Minho to hurt me…. I’ve got certain kink you kn-”

 His words were cut off as Wooyoung took a single fist and smashed it into the blonds head.

 It was quiet for a moment before San suddenly cradled his head, crying out in pain and rolling on the ground behind him. Mingi laughed out loud while Wooyoung glared at the crying boy. 

 “You all are so noisy” Minho’s ears perked as he heard a familiar voice cut through the tabel.His eyes turned over to see Hongjoong walking up, the tall figure of Seonghwa right behind him. 

 Minho gulped seeing the dark haired boy again. He was just as beautiful as before, and the aura he radiated off of him was just as deadly. But to his relief, Seonghwa seemed to be ignoring him and that was fine by him.

 “HyunggggG!” San whined, looking up at the two like they were his parents “Wooyoung hit me!”

 “Yeah cause you can’t keep it in your pants for 5 fucking seconds!” he hissed back. 

 The noise was started to cause a scene and Minho spotted multiple eyes now on them. Hongjoong must have noticed too because he rubbed his palm in his face, looking down in annoyance. 

 “This is why I can’t take you guys anywhere…”  Hongjoong then noticed Chan’s presence next to him and he looked up, suspicion in his eyes.

 “Chan” he said coolly. “I didn’t know you would be joining us.”

 Chan smiled, face still unreadable as he bowed in respect “Sorry for surprising you. San invited us. I hope it isn’t inconvenient.”

 Minho caught Seunghwa’s glare at their leader but kept his mouth shut. Hongjoong waved his hand, settling down on the floor. “No. No. Just a surprise, we will have a full table tonight.”

 “Who else is coming?” Jisung pipped up, motioning towards the opened seat next to Mingi. Hongjoong’s head turned slightly to look and then looked back, eyes shining brighter than Minho had seen since coming here. “Yeosang.”

 At the sound of the name, Yunho’s head snapped up from the drink in his hand, and Minho didn’t miss the way his eyes lit up in mild happiness. “You mean he is coming?”

 Hongjoong smiled at the younger, nodding his head “All the spies currently working in the field have been called back for a meeting by Zico. Yeosang should be here in a little bit.”

 “Huzah!” San yelled, raising his glass in celebration. 

 Yunho sighed happily and Mingi did his own clap of excitement. All the other remaining members held a small smile on their face. When Yunho noticed the look of confusion on the outsider’s faces he laughed apologetically.

 “Sorry” he chuckled “I guess we should fill you guys in. Yeosang is the last member of our group here. He is one of the best spies The Under has, and he is often traveling above ground on missions...so we don’t get to see him much.”

 “The last time we saw him was nearly 3 months ago” Wooyoung mused, almost sad.

 “Make use of his time” Seonghwa interjected, almost scolding them like a mother “We don’t know how long he will be back so make it worthwhile.”

 “Sir yes sir!” the group hollowed.

The table fell into their own little groups as dinner arrived. Chan was talking enthusiastically to Mingi about some stupid thing Felix once did, while San, Wooyoung and Jongho were having their own private conversation-mostly scolding San about losing in a fight with Minho. 

 Minho himself was having a rather pleasant conversation with Yunho, with Jisung stuck in the middle. 

 Even Seonghwa seemed mildly interested in Chan’s story as evident of his wandering eye towards the two.

 The only one who didn’t seem to be enjoying themselves was Hongjoong, who was frowning down at his full plate.

 “So have you guys always been together?” Minho asked the brown headed doctor, mouth full of food “I know Woojin hyung said he found you guys together but was that always the case? You guys don’t look related.”

 This earned a hearty laugh from the doctor and he shook his head in response. “Goodness no. Me related to them? I mean have you seen Mingi?”

 “What about me?” the gruff boy voiced over.

 But Yunho ignored him, looking almost sheepish at Minho “This may sound weird or stupid, but I don’t remember any of my childhood before i met them so I don’t really know where I came from. And actually…” he paused, looking around at the table “None of us do.”

 Minho’s eyes widened as he felt a familiar sensation in the pit of his stomach.  Just like me…

 “None of you do?”

 Yunho shook his head, a look of mild sadness on his face. “From as far back as we can remember, we have been together, but we know we know there was a time before where we were not together….”

 Jisung who was enjoying the conversation silently, swallowed the bit of food in his mouth, eyes narrowing slightly. “But if you don’t remember anything, how can you know that?”

 Yunho smiled again, but this time it was more guilty than anything. “Actually it’s just a hunch but also there is Yeosang….”

 “Yeosangie has something that none of us do.”

 Jisung tilted his head in confusion “What does he have?”

 Yunho took his arm and placed a hand on the back of his shoulder “He has a tattoo right here. He doesn’t remember getting it, nor what it means. But even if he did, I don’t think he would talk about it….” there was something in Yunho’s voice that made for a melancholy mood. His eyes casted downwards towards his nearly empty plate and chewed the bottom of his lip. “I don’t even think he is aware that he does this, but occasionally he takes his hand and touches it...his eyes would get so sad...like the memory is trying to surface, but the sadness it holds is enough to cause him excruciating pain.”

 Minho looked down at his plate, realizing his own appetite was gone. There was something about their group wide memory loss that was really causing him distress. His stomach churned and he quickly excused himself, rushing outside before anyone could stop him. 

 The city lights blurred his eyes as he felt his breathing going ragged. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. But what?

  Calm down Minho!  

 He mentally cursed himself while trying to regain control of his breathing again. What set him off so suddenly? Was it Yunho admitting about the memory loss? That doesn;t make anysense…..sure Minho also suffered from his own intense memory loss. He could relate to the group suddenly more now, his own childhood lost in his memories. But that was nothing more than coincidence.  Right?

 But before he could explore these thoughts, he was interrupted by a hand being placed on his shoulder in a form of comfort. Minho, still trying to calm down, only reached back and placed his hand on top of the foreign hand, rubbing it as a form of gratitude.

 He stayed like that for another minute before letting out one more ragged breath and straightening back up. 

 “You okay?”

 Minho closed his eyes, hearing Jisung’s quiet, soothing voice near his ear. He nodded once but refused to turn around, afraid to. “I’ll be okay….” he admitted.

 “You nearly scared half the people in there.” Jisung jokenly scolded “You rushed out so fast, they thought they were under attack.”

 Minho let out a quiet laugh, appreciative at the younger's attempts to take his mind away from the problem at hand.

 “I’ll have to apologize when I go back in…” he quipped back.

 He heard light footsteps and felt Jisung brush up against his side, making his way to stand next to him. Neither of them looked at each other, and chose to stare at the city lights instead.

 “What was it?” the younger finally asked, voice small and quiet. Minho squeezed his eyes shut, knowing what he was getting at.

 “I don’t know…”

  Liar

 “Hyung” Jisung said,obviously not believing him. 

 Minho let out a long sigh, shaking his head. He opened his mouth to say something, but found no sound behind his voice. 

 He was ashamed.

 But for what reason? His memory loss wasn’t his fault. He didn’t willingly wipe his memories away. 

 This was nothing to be ashamed of.

 So why did he?

 When Minho opened his mouth again, he let out a muffled cry, like he was admitting to a serious crime.

 “There is something I haven't shared with the group yet….” he confessed.

 He paused, expecting an immediate reaction from Jisung. But when he got none, and only felt the younger brush up against his arm he stumbled on his confession. “I don’t have many memories that I remember. I remember working at the plant. I remember becoming friends with Hyunjae. I remember Grandma Yoo taking care of us, but that has all been within the last 8 years….”

Minho looked to his side, teary gaze locking onto Jisung’s unreadable ones. “I have no memory of my parents, nor where I came from. The only reason I knew my name was Minho was because I found an ID with my face on it…” he paused, feeling his voice pick back up and his breathing laboring in his rant. 

 Jisung took his hand and squeezed his shoulder tight, pulling Minho into a tight hug. “It’s okay hyung” he murmured quietly. “Your memory loss isn’t your fault.”

 Minho hiccuped, taking solace in Jisung’s tight hug “I know but... ” he trailed off, the fear taking over. “What if it's more than just a coincidence? What if The Ord-”

 DRIIIIING DRIIIIING DRIIIIING

 He nearly jumped out of his skin as a loud alarm rang through the entire city, red sirens flashing all around them. Jisung seemed taken off guard as well as they broke apart to look down at the downtown area. 

 “Whats happening?” Minho had to somewhat yell out over the loud sirens.

 “It’s the city alarm system.” Hongjoong’s voice sounded on his other side, walking out from the shack. The others followed him outside and Minho caught Chan’s gaze who seemed fearful but not surprised. 

 “What does it mean?” 

 As if on cue, the sirens suddenly stopped and were replaced with a familiar cool voice that made the hairs on Minho’s neck stand up.

 “Hello citizens of The Under” Zico’s voice filled the entire clearing and Minho nearly had to cover his ears in response. “I have some unsettling news…” the man continued “Right as we speak, enemies of our beautiful city are moving against us. Their armies have infiltrated the tunnels and plan to strike us with their high tech assault weapons.”

 There were a few screams heard nearby as people took in their leaders' words. But Minho and the entire group stood still, listening intently. 

 “I have dispatched guards to fend them off, but for your safety, we need everyone to evacuate to the center of the city asap-”

 “What is he saying?!” Hongjoong growled.

 “I will be with the fighting force” Zico continued “But you will be in good hands there. Remember everyone, the safest place you can be is in the innermost part of the city. I won’t let anyone past the gates. The Under is my life, and the people are its future. Until we meet again.”

 And suddenly, just like that, his voice was gone. The red hue from the sirens remained, but now all that could be heard was the panicked screams of the people who began rushing around heeding their leader's words. Only Minho, Chan, Jisung and the entirety of Hongjoong’s group stayed still, including San. They seemed to be digesting their leader's words to figure out their next steps. San was the first to make movement, heading towards the stairs that led to the inner city.

 “San wait!” Chan yelled, causing the younger to stall. 

 Chan turned back towards Hongjoong, his eyes hard as steel. “Hongjoong”

 Minho gulped realizing the situation they were currently in. Something wasn’t adding up and it all pointed towards Zico.

 “What is he thinking?!” Seonghwa growled out loud “The center of the city? That is the worst place to evacuate to!”

 “That's because it is a trap” Chan interjected, his eyes not leaving Hongjoong’s frozen body.

 “Hyung” Jisung tried to warn, wanting him to stop.

 “Watch your tongue rat” San suddenly hissed with venom. “He is our leader!”

 Chan starred evenly back at San, his gaze cold and calm. “He sold you out.” He pulled on Hongjoongs arms, forcing the red headed leader to break out of trance. “Tell them Hongjoong.” He challenged “Something tells me you already suspected him of that.”

 The clearing was quiet, all 9 of them there looking towards the one singular Hongjoong who finally after a few more moments let out a long, exhausted sigh, his fierce expression from before long gone now in the presence of strangers. “A few days before you guys got here, I caught Zico having a private meeting with someone.”

 There were small gasps that came from Mingi and Yunho, while Jongho’s eyes widened slightly. Only San seemed unaffected by the news, his gaze cold as ice as he stared at Hongjoong.

 “Who?” Chan asked, but Hongjoong shook his head, looking out to the city below. 

 “Zico claimed he was an outer spy of ours, but I had never seen him before in all my years here. And the way he talked to Zico….it was no way to talk to your boss…”

  Hongjoong paused, casting a look out at the horrified faces-his eyes landed on San’s cold ones and he gave the younger a look of pleading sympathy.

 “He was trying to convince Zico to take some sort of deal. One that only benefited himself….”

 “No” San spat, disregarding his claims. “You’re lying”

 “San.” Seonghwa started “This is Hongjoong we are talking about here he would neve-” the elder was cut off as Chan’s voice rang loud and clear over the sirens.

 “Zico betrayed you all.” he growled harshly at the thief “The quicker you accept that, the easier this next step will be.

 “Quiet rat!” San spat back, taking stance “One more word out of you, and I’ll kill you. I don’t care what the rumors say…”

 The clearing went cold. Neither side made a move as San and Chan glared each other down evenly. 

Jisung wasted no time after San’s  very real  threat in marching between the two, his eyes hard as steel as he glared at San. 

 “You’ll have to get through me  first. ” 

 San turned his ice cold gaze on Jisung and Minho felt his stomach drop.

 “San!” Seonghwa barked “Stand down!”

 But to Minho’s dismay, the blond refused, pulling out his two daggers. Jisung mimicked the action by pulling out his own cuffs, electricity shooting out in waves almost immediately. Minho’s heart felt like it was about to burst, his earlier anxiety now gone and replaced with the stress of their current situation. No one seemed to want to stop the imposing forces, not even Chan, who was having an intense staring match with Hoongjong. All the meanwhile, the red hue from the sirens continued to flash all around.

 Minho looked to Seonghwa, who seemed just as tense, but as they locked eyes, was relieved to find a similar sense of panic in them.

  This was not the time to be fighting each other. Seonghwa gets that.

 Minho opened his mouth, ready to say whatever necessary to quell the two fighters. But before he could get a single sound out, a new voice sounded from behind him, one he did not recognize.

 “Stand down San. They are telling the truth.”

 All heads spun around to look at the incoming newcomer, his ash blond hair growing past his ears, all messy bedhead like. His face remained calm and neutral, but Minho could tell from his eyes that the stranger was looking past Minho and them to stare straight at San as a sort of warning. 

 “Yeosang” Yunho breathed.

[blog-sliverofjade]

Of Doms & Subs 4: Bribery Will Get You Everywhere

Pairing: Angus Hopper x OFC

Summary:  What's a submissive female to do when she fights her nature and goes on the run as a Lone wolf to avoid being assimilated into a pack?

Word count: 2315

Of Doms & Subs Master List

Sleeping in was something I used to enjoy.  Nestled in warm sheets while the world outside continued to turn, safe in a cozy cocoon.  After the Change, it was no longer so peaceful.  Although the house was decently soundproofed for humans, I could hear water running as someone showered.  The buzz of an electric razor.  Clinking of dishes in the kitchen.  After ten minutes of hiding with a pillow over my head, I gave up and burrowed out of the nest of blankets.  I was just pulling my shirt on when Mickayla knocked.  A thrill of pride ran through me for recognizing her scent.  I was getting better at this!

“Mornin’,” I called out and she came in at the tone of invitation in my greeting.

“How was your little adventure last night?” she grinned.

“Mortifying,” I grumped while tugging a brush through my hair.

“So if I tell you that there’s a betting pool on when you’d make a break for it we can see if werewolves die of embarrassment?”  Her grin deepened to flash a lot of pretty, white teeth.

“How about you give me a cut and I don’t throw my dirty, wet socks in your face?”  I started to reach for the duffel full of dirty clothes.  She laughed and handed me a couple of bills, which I stuffed into a pocket without counting.  “Next time let me know, I’m not above taking a fall.”

“There’s going to be a next time?”  A perfectly plucked eyebrow rose.

“Eugene and Seattle aren’t all that far.”  I turned away to wrestle my hair into a ponytail.  One look in the mirror confirmed that there was no hiding the marks from Angus’ bite, so might as well own it.  “I’m sure I could get a babysitter to come with.”  There, that barely had any bitterness to it.

“Don’t think of it that way,” she shook her head so that the blonde waves swayed back and forth.  “Think of it more like sexy bodyguards.”  I laughed in spite of myself.  “Speaking of which.”  There was a glint in her sea-blue eyes that suddenly made me very suspicious.  “You’ll want to swear off humans for awhile until you get used to your new strength.  Don’t want to break your toys.”

I stared at her in confusion until comprehension crashed over me, immediately followed by a furious blush.  “That is certainly not an issue.  Happily single since the divorce became final last year.”

“Ah,” said Mickayla knowingly, and I belatedly remembered with no small amount of chagrin that she was a therapist.  “That’s why you’re so determined to not get involved with a pack.  Too much commitment.”

“Ugh, it’s too early for psychoanalysis,” I groaned, rubbing at my face.

“Come on, cranky pants, let’s get you some breakfast.  New wolves are kinda like kids.  If they’re cranky, do they need food or sleep?  Antsy?  Then they need to go run off some energy.”  She linked her arm and in mine as we set off for the kitchen.

“Gee, thanks for that glowing comparison,” I said snidely.

“And in your case, maybe caffeine.”

“Give me tea and nobody gets hurt,” I pronounced solemnly.

“Threatening bodily harm before nine am, are you sure she’s submissive?” asked a man who had come out of a room behind us, also evidently on the hunt for breakfast.

“Watch this.”  Mickayla fixed me with a glare and before I even knew it my neck bent against my will till my throat was bared to her.  And she hadn’t even drawn on any power.  I glared at her from the corner of my eye and my face grew flaming hot.

“I wanna try,” he said.  I met his dark brown eyes with no small amount of anger that he thought he could control me so easily.  “How?  I’m more dominant than you,” he sputtered at Mickayla in confusion.  She laughed and wrapped an arm around each of our shoulders.

“She doesn’t know or respect you, Brian.  Neither her or her wolf are gonna roll over for some stranger unless he seriously pulls rank.  Do you think Alan would for just any old wolf?” she asked the somewhat forlorn wolf.

“Who’s Alan?”  At the stairs, Mickayla released us and led the way down with Brian in back so that I was sandwiched between them.  It seemed automatic, like their instincts to protect subtly guided their movements.

“Our submissive and resident quack,” Brian answered.  I automatically started to bristle at labeling any healer with such an epithet.  That thought was pushed out when it occurred to me that if they had both a submissive and a female, then they probably had no need of another.

“I’d like to see you call him that the next time he has to patch you up,” she said dryly.

The kitchen was sized and equipped to feed a small army.  Come to think of it, was there any difference between that and a pack?  People moved in vaguely organized chaos, piling plates with bacon, sausage, eggs, hashbrowns, and various baked goods before moving to the dining room on the far side.  Mickayla reached around someone, who was busy wrestling the Danish that he wanted from the rest of the basket, grabbed two plates and handed one to me.  Being small meant I could easily dart around and through people to get in and out quickly, but I had no idea what the protocol was for seating arrangements so I stuck close to Mickayla and Matt, who’d joined us.

I had never seen a dining table so big, at least a dozen people were already sitting and there was room for more.  It was obviously custom made.  The kitchen also had a table that was pushed up against the main one so that everyone could be seated.  I gave Mickayla raised eyebrows in question.

“You get our fearless leader’s right hand side.  Normally that’s Tom’s, Angus’ second, but since he’s not here you get it as our honoured guest,” she said with only a hint of teasing.  I gave her a grateful look before taking the seat in question.  I stifled my surprise when she and Matt sat to my left.  Evidently they were high in the hierarchy to sit next to the second, which I thought was a silly term when Beta would have made much more sense.

“Shane and Matt will be ready to hit the road by 10:30,” Angus said casually after I’d made some headway into my meal, trying my best to ignore him.  Why he thought I’d be safer with two strange werewolves than on my own, I would never understand.  But Matt couldn’t be all bad if Mickayla had married him.

“So soon?” I asked just as casually as I liberally doused my hashbrowns with salt and pepper.  “I thought I might stick around and get to know ya’ll better.  If I have to give up my job, there’s not much of a reason to go back to Oregon right away.  Unless that would be an issue?”  Put two or more intelligent beings in a room together and politics could spontaneously erupt in a vacuum.  Visiting a pack in another state before even meeting the one back home could potentially cause more than an eruption.

The room went eerily silent as the others waited to see what their Alpha would say.  Most of them seemed to be mildly surprised and curious.  I was pretty sure they had all noticed the mark on my neck, but no one had said anything nor given it a second glance.  Despite the weird fluttery feeling of fear in my chest, I managed to actually look him in the face.  Not the eye, of course, but his strong chin, which was one of his few physical aspects that said Alpha.  Maybe that was because I always had trouble seeing men with weak chins as dominant.

“The Eugene Pack was hard-pressed to welcome you on such short notice, so no feathers will be ruffled.  And despite what that crazy lone wolf might have put in your head, you are free to travel.”  He gave a small smile that eased some of the tension that had somehow crept into my shoulders.  I was no Helen of Troy, but the apparent rarity of submissive females and the territoriality of werewolves could create a powder keg waiting to go off.  As much as I enjoyed yanking his chain, any fallout could affect both packs and they didn’t deserve that.

Mickayla made a “gimme” gesture at Brian, who sat a few seats down from her.  He sighed and handed her a twenty-dollar bill.  “Haven’t you learned not to bet against my mate yet?” Matt shook his head.

“Hey, didn’t she only go out with you because of a bet?” Brian retorted.

“Yeah, and even though I won, I still ended up losing,” Mickayla said with mock ruefulness.  The banter and round of chuckles said that it was an old joke.

“Speaking of sore losers,” I said to her with a pointed look, “I have some wet, dirty socks in dire need of a wash if there’s a washing machine I could use?”

“I’ll show you where we keep our poor beleaguered beast chained up in the basement,” Shane offered as he stood up with his empty plate.  I followed suit since I was done as well.  Mickayla surreptitiously slipped me a tenner as I passed, which immediately went into my back pocket.

“Don’t scare the poor girl!” someone called out.

“Eh, she’s seen your face and it hasn’t run her off yet.”  The teasing faded only slightly as I tagged along behind Shane.

“O captain, my captain,” Mickayla said without a trace of mockery.  There never was with her.  “If I may beg an audience?”  I nodded with a small smile that conveyed exactly what I thought of her false formality.

“Since it’s our duty to woo the new girl, some of us were thinking of showing her around town,” Mickayla said once we were ensconced in my office.  I had a suspicion that the others she was thinking of had no inkling of their implication in her plotting yet.

“Considering how she navigated rush hour traffic to evade Tom, I’d say she knows the area pretty well.”  Neither the wolf nor I liked the idea of Ellie leaving our sight.  I propped one hip on my desk without a care that it put my head slightly lower than if I were standing.  Like most of my wolves, she was taller than me anyway and she had never been anything other than proper.  Oh sure, she would skirt the bounds of propriety when the situation allowed for it, but never in a manner that would call my authority into question.

“It might be good for her to get out and see that we’re not as draconian as that John made us out to be.”  Translation: prove to her she’s not going to lose all of her freedom or she’ll bolt again.

“If you are going to manipulate me, you’re going to have to do a better job than that.”  While her point was valid, I was not about to let her think I would cave so easily.

“You can talk at her until you’re blue in the face, but she won’t understand the benefits of a pack until she sees it,” said Mickayla.  “She’s only staying because the evil that you know is better and partly to tweak your tail.”  I raised an eyebrow at that observation.  “Ellie’s a modern woman suddenly thrown into submissive wolf mentality and those instincts scare the daylight out of her.  So she’s going to make us all work for it before she settles down.”

“Dominance is dictated by a person’s nature before the Change,” I shook my head.  “She’s submissive because she was as a human.”

“I think her ex-husband did a number on her, or maybe John, or both,” she said with a small frown, which I mirrored at the thought of what might have happened to her.  “That’s why she’s so prickly with any male who tries to play power games with her, like verbally bitch-slapping the guys last night.  If she can relax where there aren’t so many wolves, she might tell me more.”

“What do you have in mind?” I asked after regarding her thoughtfully for several beats.  Part of that time was spent contemplating tearing apart Ellie’s ex.

“Hit Pike’s Place until she realizes she’s not ready for so much public.  One or two of us should be able to help her keep control.”  Mickayla’s smile was far too predatory to belong on the face of a therapist.

“One of the biggest tourist traps on a three-day weekend?” I asked in disbelief and gave her the look that idea deserved.

“She still thinks of herself as human and she’s likely to screw up pretty badly until she sees that.  The sooner we get that out of the way, the sooner she might calm down,” she pointed out.

“Take Matt and Shane with you,” I sighed and waved at her to go.  Not only were they good muscle, but they were both married, even if Shane’s wife was human.

“Technically this is pack business, especially since she would work well with Alan, both as a medic and a sub.”  If she’d said anyone other than Alan, my hackles would’ve gone up.  Their temperaments, although both being submissive, weren’t suited for mating.  And I got the feeling that Ellie liked her men dominant, despite what she may say.  I affected a much put-upon sigh, drew out my wallet, selected a credit card, and passed it to the blonde.  She accepted it with both hands, kissed the simple ring on my middle finger, then flashed a smile and a wink before dashing off to find her charge.

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One:  Storybrooke, Maine

Chapter 7:  Games

He took the sword back to his shop. He put it into a nice case, something to assure it couldn't be so easily stolen again, and then he sat in the back and waited. He waited, and he stared. He waited, and he pulled out the potion he'd mixed for himself. He waited and pondered whether or not he should take it. He waited and concluded that whether or not he should take it depended on what happened next.

He wasn't magical here, he couldn't use a mirror or a cauldron to see what was happening, and he couldn't use a crystal ball to see what had happened, and he couldn't use the Seer to see what would happen. Here, he had to use his own intellect. He had to go with what he knew. With Snow White and David awake, the future was uncertain. Until he was certain this problem was fixed, he couldn't put himself under again. And he was confident that he would know when and if it was.

Regina. She was paranoid. He'd heard Snow say that she was on to them in the forest. If they got away or took the potion and stayed, he felt certain that she'd come to him either way. There was no need to watch the news for answers; she'd bring it right to him. He was confident…but that didn't mean that waiting for that moment was any better. By the time he finally heard the bell to his store chime, he was ready to jump out of his own skin. He wanted to sigh with relief when he saw it was Regina, but instead, he kept a straight face. He didn't want her to know that he was awake. For this encounter, he had to be sure he wore the mask of Mr. Gold and not Rumpelstiltskin.

"Well…I thought you'd at least have the sense to hide out in your cabin."

"Excuse me?" he asked innocently enough. Fortunately, he'd played Mr. Gold for so long it barely took a thought to summon him forth.

"Don't play dumb with me!" Regina yelled, striding toward him. "You know everything about this town, cursed or not, and I refuse to believe you haven't a clue what's been going on today! This sort of thing reeks of you!"

"Madam Mayor…" he chuckled to himself. "I'm flattered you think so highly of me, but considering my work here, I think you'll find I'm quite ignorant of whatever event you are speaking of. Tell me…what have I missed?"

She stared him down, her eyes looking for a lie, but he was older than her and had been lying since before she was born. She'd find nothing in his stare. "A John Doe escaped from the hospital this morning," she spat out quickly. "He'd been in a coma for as long as the doctors can remember. We've been searching for him all day!"

"Well, that is a lovely story of recovery, but it seems to me that he might be in search of his family and not a pawnbroker. I do hope you find him, though."

"We have," she answered. "Mary Margaret located him in the woods. By then, he'd fallen back into a coma. We only just barely got him back to the hospital in time to save his life."

His heartbeat raced. Found in the woods…they hadn't gone through with it. They were still here, David was still in a coma and Snow…Mary Margaret...

"Ah…then it seems to me you should be speaking to his doctors or better yet Ms. Blanchard to see if he revealed a name before she found him."

"Enough with the lies!" Regina yelled, fumbling for something in her pocket. She stepped up close to show it to him. It was a vial. It was the vial! It was the vial he'd put the potion into. It was empty. Snow and David had taken it. All was as it should be…nearly.

"That's mine!" he breathed, faking surprise as he plucked it from her fingers. "That's part of my collection, but it's been in the back. It's not for sale until I can have it cleaned. How did you get it?"

Regina scoffed. "Like you don't know."

He didn't have to play the part, something deep in his chest, Mr. Gold, he suspected, didn't like the disrespect she was showing. It was easy enough to work with.

"Madam Mayor, I assure you this vial is part of my alchemical collection from the 1560s. It's worth…hundreds of dollars, even without the rest of the collection. I wouldn't let it out of my sight."

"Then how did it end up outside, today, of all days."

"I have no idea. I was here all day."

"All day."

"Except…"

"Except?"

"When I left for lunch."

Regina smiled like a cat who had just captured a very tasty mouse. "Granny's was closed today," she pointed out. "Everyone was searching, including her."

"Which is why I had to eat lunch at home," he explained easily. "I wasn't sure why she was closed, so I just went home, made myself a sandwich, spent perhaps a bit too much time reading the paper. He must have stopped in then."

She crossed her arms in front of her in frustration. That was good. When she'd first walked in here, she was convinced he had his memories, and now she was starting to doubt herself. It was all a lie, but lying was second nature not only to him...but to Gold as well. Mr. Gold knew as well as he did that the best way to get away with a lie was to be confident in it, to believe the lie was the truth. He really was himself and Gold. How fortunate and startling all at once.

"Did you forget to lock your shop?" Regina questioned, trying to find holes in his story. There would be none.

"I never forget to lock the shop."

"Did your shop appear broken into?"

"Not to my eyes, but then, I'm not a detective, Regina. We'd need your bedmate for that."

"What are you talking about?" Her arms fell, and her face dropped at that particular comment. That was exactly what he'd wanted to happen.

"I think we both know what I'm talking about, Regina. You and your sheriff...quite the lone wolf that one, I doubt he'll ever really settle down."

He smiled as Regina watched him carefully. Now that she was starting to believe him, he had to admit he'd thrown that quip about him being a lone wolf in just for the fun of it. And he was about to have some more. There was no magic in this world for him to use, not on his own. But Storybrooke was a town made of magic that had been carefully woven together like firm strands of thread into fabric long before they'd arrived. That's why he was so certain what he was about to say would work, even if he didn't have his powers at the moment.

"Now, the day's nearly done, and I have work to do," he explained, pocketing the vial. "So if there's nothing else you have to report to me, Madam Mayor, then you'll excuse me…please."

He smirked perhaps a little bit more than he wanted to on that, but it was impossible not to as Regina's eyes went round as saucers, and she looked like she'd been slapped. He liked this. He enjoyed this game of keeping her in a state of confusion over what he knew and didn't know. But sadly, as she turned on her heel and left, he acknowledged that it was the last time he'd play the game for a while.

Things were as they should be. He'd been holding off on taking that potion for himself until he knew for certain they were right. Now he knew. And yes, he could stay awake as he was now. He could continue to keep Regina in a constant state of "is he or isn't he"…but eighteen years was an awfully long time to wait, an awfully long time to play a game that would only be mildly interesting. Years ago, he'd seen what happened as Regina cracked. The only one in the town with memories made it a prison. Having false memories, being under the Curse…it was easy compared to that. It really was just like living in a dream. It was lonely, the world always would be without Belle or Baelfire, but he'd rather live the next eighteen years of his life in a lonely dream than counting down the days until Emma's birthday. He'd rather grow angry and irate every day at the sight of the broken down library across the street than be reminded of Belle when he looked at it. He'd rather Baelfire's old ball just be a ball rather than a memory of his son.

There was no question in his mind. He was going to put himself under again. And in eighteen years, he'd wake up, and he'd meet the Savior, get her to break the Curse, and play the game with Regina all over again. But until then…

He put the empty vial back in his black bag and put it away, as it had been, then he wandered back out to the place he'd been when David burst in…no, he couldn't do it this way. David had burst in nearly first thing that morning. It was afternoon now. What would Gold think when so much time had passed? It wouldn't be the first time Mr. Gold had worked through lunch, but the missing hours were too much. He sighed as he got down onto the floor. He had memories of David with the sword. Now the sword was in a different place. He'd let Mr. Gold think that he'd been assaulted and knocked out and was only just now waking up; ironic when he was about to go to sleep and re-enter the dream. He only hoped that Gold did nothing to make Regina even more suspicious of what had happened today.

Laying on the floor, he gripped the potion tight, summoned up images of Belle and Bae, his two favorite people in the world, then closed his eyes and swallowed the potion. His last act was to toss the vial far away from him so that Mr. Gold would never suspect-

Something shattered far away. He was on the floor, laying on his left side, his cane still in his hand. How had he gotten to the floor? He sat up slowly and looked around. His eyes landed on the windows, the shadows outside…that wasn't the way it had looked before…before…

His last memory was the man he had told to get out of his shop, heading for the door. He must have gone, but…he'd grabbed a sword and…

His eyes went to the umbrella stand. No sword. No strange man. He must have…he must have come after him. The man had been angry or frustrated; it was hard to remember. But he'd been crazy; he remembered that much. After he turned to leave…they must have had some kind of altercation. Maybe he'd hit him? He didn't feel sore anywhere, but he preferred to think that over the scenario where he fainted like some kind of damsel. If he'd hit him, it would have knocked him out for several hours; that would have been why the shadows resembled later afternoon rather than early morning.

He listened carefully, suddenly wondering if the man could be in the back. Perhaps that was the sound of glass breaking he'd heard. But there were no sounds from anywhere. He was alone. Truly alone. He used his cane to get to his feet and shuffled into the back to find what had fallen and broken. He had to call the police and report an incident; the sooner, the better.

He had work to do.

[esteliel]

Les Mis - The Staged Concert

Review time!

In case you're going to sit in the grand circle, don't worry - the strange construction of lighting rigs rises up as soon as the music starts, and from the second row side seat I had a good view of basically the entire stage.

I went with a cheap seat since I'm not a fan of Boe & Ball, and, well. Alfie Boe is exactly as he was when I last saw him in the role on Broadway, meaning that he sings it BEAUTIFULLY - truly, technically his Bring Him Home is to die for! - but he's just not much of an actor and I think it's that lack of expression that makes him come across as lowkey pissed off during the entire show. I was wondering if the concert staging would help, because that is basically how he's always sung his big numbers even on Broadway - as if he weren't acting in a show, but singing Who Am I or Bring Him Home contextless in a concert setting. I think it does help a little - thanks to all the cuts/lack of staging, he doesn't get to have aggressive interactions with Cosette, for example - but since everyone else does act, I still really feel the lack of it from him; the artfulness of his singing just stands out a lot more to me. YMMV, of course; his Bring Him Home is so otherworldly beautiful that I'm sure just about every reviewer will give him 5 stars, but I just need more of an emotional presence in addition to the singing to connect with it.

Michael Ball as Javert - oh dear. In basically 90% of his scenes, he's a somewhat hammy, nice Uncle Ball who has decided to dress up as Javert. His Stars wasn't bad, I thought - it was the only time I felt any sort of determination coming from him. Which, given that this is JAVERT he's playing, umm...

His Suicide wasn't terrible either, but again there wasn't much of an emotional connection. I never once had that sensation of being drawn into this emotional maelstrom of despair alongside him - I was just watching Michael Ball pretending to be Javert, instead of watching Javert, if that makes sense.

For those who care about costume details, Ballvert has a ponytail, and he comes out for the sewer scene with his hair loose and a gun in his hand which he points at Valjean. I always like stagings where Javert gets to threaten Valjean with a gun in the sewers but there was just so little emotional turmoil involved here that it didn't do much for me. :(

Furthermore, his recitative parts (and actually large parts of this production) are sung SO SLOWLY that it felt incredibly strange to me. Especially because there are so many cuts of scenes that are vital for the plot/the atmosphere, and yet the songs are slowed down so much that I feel like 30 minutes out of the 2:30 runtime is thanks to the slowness. I wonder, did they slow it down intentionally, or is it because the concert version score is from before they sped up the production...?

Carrie's Fantine left me cold. I was sad about that; her Eponine never did much for me, but surprisingly I REALLY enjoyed her in Heathers. Her Fantine was just... barely there. She was more Carrie on stage than Fantine, which was always how I felt about her Eponine as well. And she couldn't even make the most of her one big moment with I Dreamed A Dream; I don't know, she just seemed quite weak in the lower parts of her song.

Matt Lucas as Thénardier does the same stupid adlibbing that I hate so much about Thénardiers. With the slapstick humor for the Thénardiers that Cammack productions go for I'm usually at least mildly entertained the first time I see someone in the role, and it's only when you see them do the exact same stupid slapstick routine again and again and again that I really start to hate them, but Matt Lucas annoyed me right from the start. The audience LOVED HIM though, he got HUGE applause for basically everything he did and played with the audience, asking for more applause, telling them to stop it, but I really didn't enjoy him at all. And with the concert staging, you can't even focus on the antics of the ensemble during Master of the House, sigh.

Shan Ako as Eponine: her On My Own was lovely, she sang it very well - but I think her character was the one most affected by the concert cuts because I don't think she even gets to do more than just On My Own and then dying in Marius' arms (plus her bit in A Heart Full of Love). There's no young Eponine in the show at all, so we first see her show up in Paris, and I wonder, if I didn't know Les Mis so very well, what I would have made of her as a character?

And the thing is, one of the reasons I love Rob Houchen so much is that he usually has a lot of chemistry with everyone he interacts with, but since in this staged concert version, she has to die standing up while hugged by him, I really didn't get as much emotion out of that scene as even mediocre Eponines can do. Which is a shame, because after her On My Own I really believe she could do a lot more with the show, if the cuts/the concert staging didn't take away most opportunities to do so.

Lily Kerhoas' Cosette is a letdown, she's just very weak throughout; both singing- and acting-wise she really paled next to Marius and Eponine. I wish we could have had Amara in this, who always had SUCH presence on stage. :/

Simon Bowman's Bishop is so lovely! His powerful voice! <3 It's so good to see an actual older Bishop on stage instead of the usual under-30 ensemble member.

And I've been so looking forward to FINALLY seeing Earl Carpenter on a stage again, and he is SO good as Bamatabois - he's clearly really having fun with the role, and he's giving 1000% acting every second he's on, but at the same time this is what makes it really frustrating because argh, to waste Earl on Bamatabois who has 2 minutes on stage? A crime. ;___;

I've already talked about how much I love Rob Houchen, but honestly, everyone knows that I'm not in this fandom for the amis, but the most joy I've felt in this production was at the start of ABC Café when Rob Houchen, Bradley Jaden and Raymond Walsh were on stage together for the first time. That combination is the true dreamcast in this production. My favourite Marius, Enjolras and Grantaire ever. And all of them were so good! <3

Raymond is such a good actor, but again due to the staging he doesn't get to do most of the small amis interaction details that always make him such a joy to watch on stage when I usually dislike most Grantaires, but he makes good use of what opportunities he gets.

Rob is lovely - pretty much the only actor I've ever seen who can imbue the bloodless role of Marius with an endearing, youthful charisma and who usually manages to have beautiful chemistry with his Cosettes. (That he doesn't really this time is the fault of the not very present Cosette, alas.)

He does have great chemistry with Enjolras and Grantaire though, and his Empty Chairs was beautiful.

There were only ever two Enjolras' in my life I have truly, deeply loved - Bradley Jaden and Wallace Smith. It's been so long since Bradley!Enjolras that I was starting to question myself - was he really that good? Was I maybe remembering wrong? Has he maybe aged out of the role now, after his year as Javert?

And then he came onto stage for the first time and I knew that I hadn't remembered wrong at all. He has this incredible stage presence and charisma that draws you in and commands the stage, and where his Javert is weirdly emotional about stars, lol, and incredibly, insanely, fiercely obsessive and emotional about Valjean, his Enjolras hits all the emotions JUST RIGHT. The litmus test for a good Enjolras for me is that he needs to have enough charisma on stage to make you want to join the revolution - there have only ever been two in my life that have pulled that off. He does it so effortlessly, it's incredible, just watching him there on stage being Enjolras with every fibre of his being.

But OMG, the orchestra is GLORIOUS! Getting to hear the score played by 24 musicians for once is such a treat! I haven't heard this show sound so well since I saw it in Austria played by the entire orchestra of Linz's opera house. <3 OMG that string section. There were violin lines and oboe parts that I never even consciously heard before, and I've seen this damn show so often.

Also stage door was CRAZY, but my favourite part of it was that despite the huge, screaming crowd no one but me recogized Claude-Michel Schönberg when he came out of the stage door ahahaha. (He then hugged Raymond Walsh so clearly he has good taste. <3)

Audio to follow later today, once I've had time to track it!

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hello, what's the most recent fanfiction you've read?

HAHAHAH OKAY SO. I was legit just going to do “Last XX Bookmarked Fics”, but then I checked when I last did this list and it was in November 2017. I usually wait until people ask me this very question before I post them up. After some deliberation… WE’RE DOING ALL the bookmarks I’ve saved since my last one over a year ago! I’ve been reading longer fics lately and RE-READING some faves because I have this thing where if I read ONE fic I don’t enjoy, I go on this huge spree where I re-read a lot of my bookmarks to counter it, hence why I’ve only under 100 bookmarks in over 1 year, LOL. Anyway, enjoy, in word-count order as per usual! These are ALL fantastic reads, so check them all out!!

I-J’s LAST 86 BOOKMARKED FICS (Nov. 2017 to Jan. 2019)

John Will Never Forget by gelos (bia_mpinto) (NR, 244 w. || Fluff, First Time, Love Confessions) – John will never forget Sherlock’s everything.

New World, Old Words by thedeafwriter (G, 641 w. || Deaf Sherlock, Sherlock Whump, Pining Sherlock, Marriage Proposal, Fluff, Always John) – It was disconcerting to experience. One second, he was laying on the table, breathing in the gas that would make him sleep, the next, he was dragging his eyes open to look around the bright room, trying to wake up.

New Year, New Beginning by DaisyFairy (T, 810 w. || New Year’s Eve, John POV, Post S4, Friends to Lovers) – New Year at a crime scene and John makes a decision.

Bands by dragonQuill907 (T, 1,017 w. || Established Relationship, POV Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock) – “Her wedding ring. Ten years old at least. The rest of her jewelry has been regularly cleaned, but not her wedding ring. State of her marriage right there. The inside of the ring is shinier than the outside – that means it’s regularly removed. The only polishing it gets is when she works it off her finger.”

The First Night by TheForerunner (NR, 1,043 w. || First Time, Fluff, Non-Explicit, Prose, ACD Canon) – When all was over, Sherlock reached to dress again and John reached to stop him. They sat at opposite ends of the bed and one set of eyes surveyed the other’s set of limbs, and they were quiet in the downbeat, melody suspended. Sherlock was sheepish, and this confused John, who now smelled of his companion and felt they were part of one another.

Secrets by 796116311389 (G, 1,084 w. || Drunk Sherlock, Drunk Confessions, Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending, Pining Sherlock) – “He is the best person in the world and sometimes I get sad because I’m not. Not his best person.”

I love you, I say by khoshekhskitten (G, 1,576 w. || Pre & Post TRF, Hurt / Comfort, First Kiss, Love Confessions) – “I love you” is a phrase that follows John Watson through his life with Sherlock Holmes.

Lost and Found by jaradel (G, 1,750 w. || Post-HLV, John Whump, Est. Rel., Hurt/Comfort) – He’s honestly not sure what’s worse, right now - being where he is, the beaten kidnap victim, or being where Sherlock is, trying to rescue him before it’s too late. Unwillingly his mind offers up the image of Sherlock in a video message, tied to a chair, bruised and bloodied. John squeezes his eyes shut to hold back tears. No, he decides. That would be so much worse.

Like Euphoria and Scotch by FinAmour (M, 1,856 w. || TSo3 Fix It, Five and Ones, Drinking, Pining, Second Person POV Sherlock, Armchair Sex, Cracky and Fluff, Sherlock’s Imagination, Happy Ending) – 5 different ways it all could have gone + the one way it actually works itself out.

Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil by PipMer (T, 1,895 w. || Deaf John, Mute Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, Romance, Fluff and Angst, Character Study, Morse Code, Love Confessions) – John is deaf. Sherlock is mute. There are no two people more suited for each other.

The Lie-In by KendylGirl (M, 2,000 w. || POV Sherlock,  Bed Sharing, Fluff, True Love, Introspection) – Five months after his return, John and Sherlock spend a day in bed. Part 2 of When to Let Go

Husband by jinglebell (E, 2,003 w. || Est. Rel., PWP, Anal, Multiple Orgasms, Fluff) – Sherlock orgasms when John refers to him as ‘husband’.

Hell or High water by bluefire301175 (E, 2,250 w. || PWP, Frottage, Alley Sex, First Person POV John, Case-ish Fic, Mutual Pining, Bed Sharing) – John wants. Sherlock wants. Plain and simple.

A Study in Lace by KarlyAnne (E, 2,320 w. || Est. Rel., Crafty Sherlock, Tiny Lace Panties / Lingerie, Domestics, Experiments, Oral, Masturbation) – “Why do you suppose he was doing that?” “Why do I suppose who was doing what?” “The room. The lace. The secrecy. He was playing with fire in everything he did, and didn’t care one bit. But he had a secret chamber, carefully concealed, solely for the purpose of making lace lingerie. Obviously for personal use. Why?“ Part 1 of The Unintentional Crafts of Sherlock Holmes

Thief by KendylGirl (M, 2,430 w. || Rev. Reich., Heavy Angst, Regret, Grief / Mourning, Pining Sherlock, Implied Drug Use, Self-Flagellation) – John has been gone for four months, and Sherlock is not dealing well with it. When he finds a personal item of John’s, the situation reaches a crisis. Part 3 of When to Let Go

Undercurrents by entanglednow (E, 2,996 w. || Disturbing Things, Crime Scene Fetish, Pseudo-Necrophilia, PWP, Masturbation) – “There, that’s it, perfect, shut your eyes and don’t move - and don’t speak.”

Untouched by KittieHill (E, 3,239 w. || Kissing, Frottage, Virgin Sherlock, Body Worship, Sherlock’s Scars Mentioned, Masturbation, PWP, Rimming, Multiple Orgasms) – Sherlock leaked a lot. John had never needed lubricant. John loved watching it, had once spent an entire afternoon edging Sherlock so he could watch as the thick precome drip, drip, dripped onto Sherlock’s belly.

Wish I Was In Heaven Sitting Down by standbygo (M, 3,282 w. || Post-S4, Five Plus One, Missing Scenes, Parenthood, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hurt/Comfort, Declarations of Love, Fluff, Food, John Whump) – Five times when Sherlock and John ate together, and one time they didn’t. A history of the boys, in food.

The Bee Charmer by dreadpiratewatson (M, 3,314 w. || Est. Rel., Captain / Soldier John, Idiots in Love, Domestics, John in the Army) – Greg goes to 221B to check up on Sherlock after a strange phone call pulls him away from an important case, and is stunned to find himself in front of a gun brandishing soldier with a sleeping Sherlock on his chest. John Watson is a doctor, a war hero, a husband, and the only one in the world who can soften Sherlock’s heart.

Apodyopsis by QuinnAnderson (E, 3,347 w. || PWP, Rough Sex, Table Sex, Anal, Sexual Tension) – Apodyopsis: (æpəʊdaɪˈɒpsɪs) noun. the act of mentally undressing someone. Part 2 of Undressed

Paranoia by Ewebie (M, 3,789 w. || Humour, Drinking Games, Scotland Yard Gang, Jealous / Posessive Sherlock, Inappropriate Questions, Embarrassed John, Matchmakers) – John and Sherlock join the gang of Scotland Yard for a night of drinking, and it gets a bit personal and revealing.

Coldness/Heat by agirlsname (E, 3,790 w. || Cuddling & Snuggling, Body Heat, New Year’s Eve, PWP, Bedsharing, Frottage) – The inn is booked up on New Year’s Eve. The train home is cancelled because of the snow. The only option is to sleep in the non-heated guest room of a client, and John and Sherlock are freezing.You know where this is going. Part 1 of New Year’s Kiss

Jukebox by standbygo (T, 3,990 w. || Fluff, Singing/Music, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Hurt/Comfort, Humour, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss) – After the music halls of Sherlock’s mind palace get damaged by accident, John learns that Sherlock never forgets a song. Even the ones he’d rather forget. But the random singalong brings some unexpected benefits.

Tree Topper by May_Shepard (E, 4,017 w. || Christmas Tree, Christmas Fluff, Drunken Shenanigans, Smut, First Time, Friends to Lovers) – Sherlock and John are celebrating Christmas the best way they know how–alone together, with booze. They’ve almost finished decorating their tree, but John is determined to find the best way to top it.

Things That You Can’t Say Tomorrow Day by PsychGirl (T, 4,022 w. || Post S4, POV John, Cuddling / Snuggling, Hypothermia, Snowed In, Angst, Romance, First Kiss/Time) – Things go horribly wrong while John and Sherlock are on a mission for Mycroft. Now they’re out in the woods in the middle of winter with no coats and no shelter. However will they stay warm?

Lingerie by Sexxica (E, 4,135 w. || Valentine’s Day, Lingerie / Women’s Underwear, Mildly Public Masturbation, Picture Texting / Sexting, Bottomlock, Body Worship, Anal Sex / Fingering, Rimming, Orgasm Delay / Denial, Est. Rel.) – It’s Valentines Day and Sherlock is taking John to Angelo’s for dinner. Sherlock also happens to be wearing a garter belt, stockings and a rather small pair of women’s underwear under his clothes. There’s no dessert at Angelo’s because John needs to get Sherlock home just as quickly as he can before they both lose their minds entirely.

If He Knows by shamelessmash (M, 4,513 w. || TSo3 Fic, Pining Sherlock, Bed Sharing, Angst, Sherlock POV, Texting, Internal Monologue, Blanket Forts) – I imagine mornings: John handing me a cup of tea, hair sticking out at odd angles. How he would bend down to kiss me, smiling fondly as he pulls away. The way his skin crinkles at the corner of his eyes, the way his skin looks in the morning light. The soft sigh as he sits in his chair with the morning paper, the way his toes curl in the carpet, the way he rolls his shoulders before sinking deeper into his seat. I watch him, how he is when he is content, as it should be. As he deserves. Happy. With me.

Captain John Watson, Genetics, and Other Crazy Things by cyerus (M, 5,581 w. || Torchwood Crossover ||  Humour / Crack, Jealous Sherlock, Sexual Magnet John, Captain John, UST / RST, Three Continents Watson) – The explanation for John “Three Continents” Watson? Jack Harkness is his father. Sherlock doesn’t know whether he’s going to die from jealousy or sexual frustration first.

Times Two by WhimsicalEthnographies (E, 5,595 w. || Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Victorian John, Modern John, Sherlock has a Good Imagination, PWP, Bottomlock, Spitroasting) – “But you’re not that John…”“Of course I am,” John’s lips and mustache brush against Sherlock’s mouth as he talks. “All us Johns are that John, now. That John is in every room in your Palace.” He leans in for another messy kiss, tongue swirling all around the inside of Sherlock’s mouth. “In fact,” he moves to suck on the sensitive skin underneath Sherlock’s ear. “I think I hear him coming right now.”

The Only Available Transportation by blueink3 (T, 5,379 w. || Post S4, Fluff and Angst, Insecure Sherlock, Caring John, Parentlock, Sherlock’s Birthday, Family, Misunderstandings) – It’s possibly the desperation that’s seeped into his voice despite his best intentions, or perhaps it’s just a mother’s intuition, but she knows that whatever he’s calling about is Serious, hangover be damned. “What’s happened?” she asks, tone soft and as comforting as a hot cup of tea on a cold winter’s night. “Mummy,” he begins, voice catching. “I think John may be moving out.”

Talk by illwick (E, 6,364 w. || Dirty Talk, John’s Giant Junk, PWP, Light BDSM, Size Kink, Oral / Anal, Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, Established Rel.) – Sherlock was never much for dirty talk… until an unexpected visit yields unexpected results. Part 20 of Unwind

5687 (Approximately) by prettysailorsoldier (T, 6,771 w. || Est. Rel., Alternate Canon, Christmas, Pining, Fluff, Soldier John) – When John’s leave request for Christmas is denied, Sherlock is nothing short of devastated, not that he’s letting it show. The holiday season now something he’s just waiting to end, Sherlock doesn’t think anything can possibly make it worse. That is, until he realizes no one in his life believes his army “boyfriend” is even real, but, luckily, everyone is in for a surprise. Part 13 of 25 Days of Johnlock

A Kiss and a Cuddle should be Sufficient by Evenlodes_Friend (E, 6,853 w. || Gay Sex Club, Fake Relationship, PWP, Orgies, Rimming, BJ’s, Violence, Case Fic, Voyeurism) – Going undercover, Sherlock and John pursue a vicious killer to a gay group sex party. Not unexpectedly, things get a little out of hand. Set after Baskerville, but before the Fall.

Full Disclosure by Itsallfine (E, 7,032 w. || Bars & Pubs, Fake Relationship, First Kiss / Time, Love Confessions, John’s Army Mates, Three Continents Watson, Semi-Public Sex) – John’s army mates get together for the first time post-discharge and invite John “Three Continents” Watson to join them. If John shows up alone, he knows he’ll be the object of non-stop ridicule all night. Sherlock plays along. John tests the waters.

where the good things grow by anchors (M, 7,066 w. || Tea Shop AU || Alternate First Meeting, Magical Realism, Gardens, Tea, Friends to Lovers) – “I have a magic garden.” As come-ons go, John’s heard worse.

Speak My Language by Itsallfine (T, 7,479 w. || Thanksgiving, Love Languages, Love Confessions, First Kiss, John Experiments in Sherlock) – When Mrs. Hudson introduces John and Sherlock to the concept of the five love languages, Sherlock descends into a dark mood and John’s curiosity gets the better of him. What is Sherlock’s love language, and why does the whole concept set him so on edge? Part 1 of A Holiday Triptych

The doctor is in by PlainJane (E, 7,581 w. || Omegaverse || Sex Therapist, Anal, Hand Jobs, Frottage, Virgin Sherlock) – Sherlock is a young alpha with an aversion to his cycle. John is a gender medicine specialist. Nothing could possibly go wrong… Part 1 of Doctors and detectives

On Favors and Keeping Score by Ewebie (G, 7,622 w. || Hurt/Comfort, Sick Fic, Fluff, John Whump) –  John woke up to the horribly unpleasant sound of his clock alarm. Which meant he’d slept through his phone’s alarm. And for a moment he glared blearily at the noisemaker before smacking at it with his palm. Ugh, he felt like rubbish. The back of his throat was burning with the irritation that heralded a proper dose, his nose was threatening to drip every few seconds, and he had the uncomfortable flush that normally suggested a fever. Nothing high, just uncomfortable. Nothing deadly, just irritating. Nothing worth calling in sick with, just a full day of discomfort in the face of other people’s discomfort. It was going to be a day where he was forced to bite his tongue from telling people off. “You’re not as sick as I am, so off you pop.” Part 7 of Tumblr Shorts

On the Steadfast Approach of an Oncoming Darkness by 2bee (T, 7,772 w. || Apocalypse, Minor Character Death, Sort of Parentlock) – The world is ending. Not fast, but slowly, like falling asleep with a fever.

Caves in the Mountains Are Seldom Unoccupied by starrysummernights & TheMadKatter13 (E, 7,925 w. || Were-Creatures, Werebear John, Pseudo Bestiality, Rimming, Dub Con, Rough Sex, Come Inflation / Eating, Size Kink, PWP, Bratty Sherlock, Rutting) – “This isn’t something to play at, Sherlock,” he snapped. “If it doesn’t work out- what you’re asking of me- we can’t shrug and say ‘oh well, at least we tried’. If we do this… I could seriously hurt you. Do you understand? I could lose control. I could… I could kill you.” (This one is… REALLY REALLY kinky, heavy dub-con warning)

Every Night I Look for You by destinationtoast (E, 8,377 w. || POV John, Post-TRF, Angst, Mystery, Unsafe Sex, BAMF John) – Every night, John looks for familiar hints of Sherlock in the men he meets in bars, and he does with them all the things he wishes he’d done before. Eventually, he stumbles into a situation that Sherlock would know how to handle, and John must decide whether he can handle it without him.

Galapogos by anchors (E, 8,460 w. || Hurt/Comfort, Angst, 5 and 1, John Whump) – Somewhere in the depths of the universe, and somewhere in the middle of Sherlock’s chest, a star goes into supernova.

He’s Not Paid Enough to Deal with This Shit by janonny (T, 9,828 w. || Personal Assistant AU || Humour, First Meetings, Snarky John) – One of the first things John did was to write up step-by-step instructions on how to conduct a proper job interview before handing it over to Mycroft for his perusal. There were no kidnapping, deserted car parks or stolen therapy notes anywhere on that list. (Or the one where John returned from the war and ended up working for Mycroft as his personal assistant slash doctor on retainer. Everything was fine, until he was sent to post bail for one Sherlock Holmes.)

How To Give Your Boyfriend Who Doesn’t Know He’s Your Boyfriend the Best Valentine’s Day Ever by unicornpoe (T, 9,832 w. || Valentine’s Day, Fluff and Crack, Soft Sherlock, POV Sherlock) – Sherlock is pretty sure that John Watson is his boyfriend. He’s also pretty sure that John doesn’t know it. But with a little help from a magazine, some friends, three crepes, five dates, one awesome CD, and a stalker van, John is bound to realize just in time for Valentine’s Day.

Rainbow Hearts Retreat by PajamaSecrets (E, 11,638 w. || Fake Relationship, Case Fic, Undercover, Fluff and Smut, Bed-Sharing, Therapy, Humour/Crack, First Time) – “It’s a same-sex couples retreat. For those experiencing troubles in their relationship. Consists of group and couples therapy as well as encouraging socialization between the couples. It’s all in their incredibly dull brochure.” “Rainbow Hearts Retreat,” John read. “Sounds… quite gay.”

And Here We Are by J_Baillier (T, 12,416 w. || ASiP Fic, Alternating First Person POV, Drama, Friendship, Mild Case Fic, Autism Spectrum Sherlock, Insecure Sherlock, Protective John, Pining, Homophobia, Loneliness, Angst, Humour, Domestics, Morbid Fluff, Kidnapping) – All the little things we never got to see when an army doctor and a consulting detective were adjusting to sharing a flat. And a life.

Fucking Cake by Random_Nexus (E, 12,965 w. || Pre-Slash, Humour/Crack, Inanimate Object Smut, Frottage, “For a Case” / “Experiment”, PWP / Kinky, Mutual Pining, Fluff) – Sherlock brings home a chocolate cake, John finds him about to have sex with said cake, then exceedingly weird hijinx ensue. Part 1 of “Fucking Baked Goods” - Sherlock BBC

The Nutcracker by Odamaki (T, 13,758 w. || Nutcracker AU ||  Christmas, Dark Magic, Dolls) – Sherlock is unimpressed with Uncle Rudy’s present. A doll? What does he want with a doll?

I Will Take Care Of You by SailorChibi (T, 16,664 w. || Hurt/Comfort, Sick Sherlock, BAMF John, BAMF Lestrade, Reunion Fic) – Two years after Sherlock’s death, John comes to find him on the sofa. Wounded and ill, Sherlock is convinced he’s hallucinating and refuses to share any details about Moran or the fact that Mycroft has been compromised. That doesn’t stop John from stepping up and taking care of the last of Moriarty’s web, BAMF-style.

Software Malfunction by tiger_in_the_flightdeck (E, 16,679 w. || Android Sherlock, Love Story, Unhappy Ending, Angst) – “You think I can’t love you? Just because you’re made with metal, and detailed programming?” The doctor propped himself on his elbow, and looked down at it. “I am nothing but blood and bone, and tissue. Things just managed get mashed together in a manner that made me like this. Just like you were put together to make you how you are. When I kiss you-” he did so, briefly, to prove his point. Then more deeply, and lingering, because he could. “When I touch you, or smile at you, does it make you feel different from when others have done it in the past?”

Best of Three by SilentAuror (E, 17,473 w. || POV John, 3G Moment, Porn with Feels, Post HLV, Rimming, Denial, Anal) – “You want to have sex with me,” Sherlock announces one evening about a year after John’s divorce. John’s vigorous denial sparks a three-day wager wherein Sherlock is determined to prove his point, and John is determined to hold onto his heterosexuality. Set well after HLV. (Canon-compliant). PORN. With feels.

Between Friends by SilentAuror (E, 18,036 w. || Post S3, Alternating POV, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Abduction, Awkward Situations / Miscommunications, Porn With Feels, Blowjobs, Pining, Unrequited, Angst With Happy Ending) – Sherlock gets abducted. As John discovers him tied up naked in an empty storage facility and comes to rescue him, Sherlock’s body has an unfortunate reaction which triggers a series of events. John is convinced that everything will be fine as long as they never discuss it. Sherlock isn’t as sure…

Uncharted Territory by J_Baillier (T, 19,603 w. || Dystopian Future / Black Mirror AU || Alternate First Meeting, Angst, Drama, Homophobia, Bisexuality, Technology, Humour, Romance, Near Future, Happy Ending) – The System puts people through a series of assigned relationships in order to determine who their Perfect Match is. John believes that it works; Sherlock really, really doesn’t. One of them is probably going to be wrong.

whiskies neat by Ellipsical (E, 20,660 w. || Alternate First Meeting, POV Second Person Sherlock, Slow Burn, One Night Stand, Rimming, Blow Jobs, Anal, Soldier John, Crying, Emotional Lovemaking, Switchlock) – Home and hearth and whiskies neat, or, alternatively, Sherlock Holmes falls in love.

When to Let Go by KendylGirl (M, 22,109 w. || Friends to Lovers, Reverse Reichenbach, Sacrifice, Forgiveness, Angst, Love, Implied Drug Use) – What if it were John who had to die to thwart Moriarty’s plans? John’s supposed death shatters Sherlock, and when he returns, it will challenge the pair to forge a path of forgiveness, to peace, and to find a way back to each other. Part 1 of When to Let Go

Dropping the Act by jadztone (T, 27,258 w. || Parentlock, Fake Relationship, Mary’s Family, Post-S4, Cuddling & Snuggling, Bed Sharing, Pining, Christmas) – Sherlock and John are quite happy living together with Rosie in Baker St. They might be even happier if they didn’t act towards each other like their love is only platonic. Mycroft brings troubling news in the form of Mary’s parents wanting to know just what their grandchild’s home life is like. The boys decide to spend Christmas pretending like they are in love in order to seem more like a “normal” family. It’s easy enough to pretend when all you’re doing is dropping the act.

Another Auld Lang Syne by DiscordantWords (M, 30,234 w. || Post S4, Mutual Pining, Alternating POV, Introspection, Parentlock, Christmas, New Year’s, First Kiss, Past Drug Use, Angst with Happy Ending, Drinking, Sherlock Whump) – There had been years of missed chances.

Love or What You Will by miss_frankenstein (T, 31,987 w. || College/Uni AU || Professor John, Ph.D Student Sherlock, Pining John, Poetry, Falling in Love / Slow Burn, Light Angst, Happy Ending) – John is an English professor who specializes in War and Post-War Literature and Sherlock is the brilliant yet impossible Ph.D. student assigned to be his TA because no one in the Chemistry Department is willing to put up with him. And - somewhere between Waugh and Plath, e-mails and takeaway, novels and villanelles - they fall in love.

Chaperones by MissDavis (T, 34,114 w. || 11 Years Post-S4, Fake Relationship, Parentlock, Disney World, Bed / Room Sharing, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, First Kiss, Obsessive Sherlock, Insecure John) – Right. Of course. Everyone assumed they were a couple and no one would question it. John put his elbows up on the table so he could rest his head in his hands. “You want to pretend to be a couple so we can chaperone a trip to Disney World with Rosie’s class and you won’t have to share a room with a stranger?” “Exactly.” Sherlock beamed at him. “Don’t worry about the cost. The Birmingham case last month paid more than enough to cover expenses for all three of us.”

Malediction by MapleleafCameo (M, 36,680 w. || Ladyhawke AU || Magical Realism, Romance, Curses, Eventual Happy Ending) – Cursed to a half-life, John and Sherlock must fight the forces of evil to be reunited once again.

The Unfinished Letters by SilentAuror (E, 37,391 w. || Post S3 / S3 / HLV Fix it, Angst with Happy Ending, Romance, Infidelity, Depression, Case Fic, POV Third Person Sherlock, Love Confessions, Pining Sherlock, Letters) – A fire at Baker Street leads John to read something he was never intended to see: a notebook of half-written, unfinished letters Sherlock wrote during his time away…

Nothing to Make a Song About by emmagrant01 (E, 36,833 w. || Post-TRF, First Time, Reunion, Jealous John, Pining Sherlock, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending) – When Sherlock returned from his faked death, John could not forgive him for the deception and broke off their friendship. Ten years later, John returns to London in search of yet another new beginning. Sherlock, not surprisingly, is waiting.

Set in Stone by SilentAuror (E, 39,309 w. || Romance, Wedding, Therapy, Fluff and Angst) – Sherlock and John are back from Ravine Valley and planning their wedding. However, as they move past the trial of the human traffickers, Sherlock can’t help but wonder if he’s imagining that John is becoming a little distant. Surely he isn’t getting cold feet about the wedding… Part 2 of The Ravine Valley series

In the Still of the Night by SilentAuror (E, 42,234 w. || S4 Fix It / Post-S4, Sherlock POV, Angst, Drama, Romance, Virgin Sherlock, Awkwardness, Misunderstandings / Miscommunications, Case Fic, Travelling, Pining) – As locals on the Northeastern coast begin to report UFO sightings, life at Baker Street becomes significantly awkward as John brings up his desire for more than friendship and Sherlock refuses him. They embark on the investigation from the confines of the tiny cottage Mycroft has rented for them, attempting to navigate both the clues of the case as well as their own inability to communicate…

Bloody But Unbowed by BeautifulFiction (E, 43,211 w. || Abduction, John Whump, Mild Torture, Background Case Fic, Friends to Lovers, Post-TRF / S3 Rewrite, Hurt/Comfort) – When a familiar argument threatens to destroy the last remnants of John and Sherlock’s failing friendship, both men are left questioning their worth to one another. Before either of them has the chance to make amends, circumstance intervenes. John is left at the mercy of his abductors, and this time, he’s not sure Sherlock will bother coming to his rescue.

Lost Without My Blogger by starrysummernights (E, 52,155 w. || Rev. Reich, PTSD, Hurt / Comfort, Fluff / Angst, Psychological Torture, Reunion Fic, Friends to Lovers) – John is abducted and declared dead. How will Sherlock cope without his blogger? How will he react when John comes back from the “dead?” Drama and angst with a healthy dose of romance. Part 1 of I’d Be Lost Without My Blogger

floating through a dark blue sky by Lediona (M, 58,966 w. || Notting Hilll AU || POV John, Celebrity Sherlock, First Date / Time / Kiss, Past Drug Addiction, Angst with a Happy Ending) – Of course, I’d seen his films and always thought he was, well, brilliant – but, you know, a million miles from the world I live in. Or, when John is the owner of a travel book shop and the famous Sherlock Holmes stops in one day.

The Book of Silence by SilentAuror (E, 60,056 w. || S4 Fix It / Post S4, Virgin Sherlock, Rosie / Parentlock, Domesticity, Fluff, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, First Person POV) – As spring blooms in London, John and Sherlock begin to take new cases and cautiously negotiate this new phase of life with John living at Baker Street again. Despite how well it’s all going, John struggles to forgive himself for the way he treated Sherlock following Mary’s death as well as trying to figure out how to finally put his long-time feelings for Sherlock into words. Part 1 of The Book of Silence/Rosa Felicia

Scars by SilentAuror (E, 60,493 w. || Rape / Non-Con / Abuse, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Dub Con Elements, Homophobia, Angst With Happy Ending, Mary is Not Nice) – S3 rewrite, showing Mary’s manipulation of John as he realizes his love for Sherlock. Mary is not having it.

Summit Fever by J_Baillier (M, 78,802 w. || Mountain Climber AU || POV John, Angst, Tragedy, Suicidal Ideation, The Himalayas, Mountain Guide / Doctor John, Mount Climber Sherlock, Loneliness, Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Injured Sherlock / Sherlock Whump, Pining John) – After graduating from medical school, John Watson followed his heart to the Himalayas. Ten years later, he’s a haunted cynic working for his ex-lover’s trekking and mountaineering company. Will leading an expedition to Annapurna I—the most lethal of all the world’s highest mountains—shake John out of his reverie, and who is the mystery client added to the group at the last minute?

Uphill by scullyseviltwin (E, 84,945 w. || Olympics AU || Sherlock POV, Skier!Sherlock / Medic!John, Rivalry, 2014 Olympics, Happy Ending) – Sherlock Holmes is striving for gold in this, his fourth and final Olympics as a downhill Alpine racer.

31_Days_of_Porn_Challenge_2017 Series by distantstarlight (E, 96,540 w. across 31 stories || Prompt Ficlets, Assorted Kinks, PWP) – A collection in response to the 31 Days of Porn Challenge issued by AtlinMerrik! Thanks for doing that because this has been buttload of fun (that joke never gets old). All stories will be brief stand-alone one-shots.

The Baker Street Nativity by SwissMiss (E, 99,662 w. || Nativity! AU || Teacher Sherlock / TA John, Pining, Sherlock POV, UST, Angst, Christmas, Music/Song Fic, Anal / BJ’s, First Kiss / Time) – Fusion between Sherlock (BBC) and Nativity! (2009 movie starring Martin Freeman). Sherlock is a primary school teacher and John is assigned to be his classroom assistant. Together, they are charged with putting on the school’s Nativity play. What could possibly go wrong? Part 1 of The Baker Street Nativity Verse

The Wedding Garments by cwb (E, 105,390 w. || Alternate Future AU || , Alternate First Meeting, Dating / Arranged Marriages, Romance, First Kiss/Time, Heavy Petting, Cuddles, POV Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn / Falling in Love / Dev. Rel., Nervous/Anxious Sherlock, Jealous/Cranky, Hiking, Vacation Homes / Honeymoon, Sherlock’s Family, Horny John/Sherlock, Patient John, Massages, Hand Jobs, Assassination Plots, Hand Jobs / Oral Sex) – This is the story of a young consulting detective who wants nothing to do with marriage and an army doctor who wants to find true love. It’s 2020 post-Brexit England and the British government is encouraging arranged marriages. Candidates meet through state-run agencies and date in hopes of finding love (and tax benefits). Sherlock doesn’t need or want a spouse, at least not until John Watson shows up. Hesitant to give in to his more carnal urges because of the way they derail his mind, how will Sherlock progress toward the more intimate aspects of a relationship? The answer lies in a very special wedding gift. (I’m about a ¾ done this fic and I already know I will be bookmarking it, so here we are! Additional tags will be added to subsequent recs of this fic

Maintenance and Repair by patternofdefiance (E, 106,650 w. || FutureAU, Augmentation || Augmented John, Depression, Body Modification, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, Sci-Fi, Self-Care, Body Dysmorphia) – John wants to explain the rush of sensation and data, which is just another form of sensation (or is it the other way around?). John wants to say:Augmentation circuits report temperature, pressure, various forms of quantitative input. Sudden changes are reported as pain, since sudden changes are dangerous, and pain is the quickest way to encourage reflexive extraction. But all John can manage is, “Nng.” Because this sudden touch is not reporting as pain. Part 2 of STATIC

A Study in Winning by Jupiter_Ash (E, 106,658 w. || Tennis AU || John POV, Dirty Talk, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Happy Ending, Sherlock Speaks French, Switchlock, Wimbledon) – John and Sherlock are professional tennis players and it’s Wimbledon. One is a broken almost was at the end of his career, the other an arrogant rising star tipped for greatness. It should have been a straightforward tournament. It really should have been. How were they to know that a chance encounter would change everything? Part 1 of Tennis

Eyes Up, Heels Down by CodenameMeretricious (E, 107,845 w. || Sports Equestrian AU || Fluff, Angst, Humour, Rider!Sherlock, Groomer!John, Show Jumping, Slow Burn, Happy Ending) – Sherlock is a top eventing rider currently training at Baker Farms. John is the new groom who’s been told to steer clear of the surly rider and his horses. Part 1 of Baker Farms

The Burning Heart by May_Shepard (M, 119,150 w. || Canon Divergence, Post-TRF, John’s Sexuality, S3 Rewrite, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV John Watson, John’s Gay) – When Sherlock dies, John Watson feels like his life is over too. He’s completely shut down, until Mark Morstan, a new nurse at John’s medical clinic, catches his attention, and helps him uncover the long buried truth of his attraction to men. Although he’s certain he’ll never get over Sherlock, John plans to move on, and build a new life with Mark, unaware that Sherlock is not quite as dead as he appears, and that Mark is hiding secrets of his own.

The Swan Triad by Pennin_Ink (T, 121,660 w. across 3 works || Swan Lake AU || Magical / Fairy Tale AU, Romance, Falling in Love, Pining, Psychological Torture, Transformation) – Sherlock and John grow up spending every summer together. Their mothers’ attempts to play matchmaker only fuel their mutual resentment and scorn. But then, one summer.

The Horse and his Doctor by khorazir (T, 129,003 w. || Horse / Vet AU || Magical Realism, Horses, Vet John, Horse Sherlock, Implied Alcoholism) – Invalided after a run in with a poacher in Siberia, veterinary surgeon John Watson finds it difficult to acclimatise to the mundanity of London life. Things change when a friend invites him along to a local animal shelter and he meets their latest acquisition, a trouble-making Frisian with the strangest eyes and even stranger quirks John has ever encountered in a horse.

Colors by Quesarasara (E, 140,537 w. || Pleasantville-Inspired AU || Soulmates, Colour Bonds, Alternating POV, Angst, Fluff, Pining, Case Fic, Medical Procedures) – Everyone on earth is born with eyes that see in black, white, and an endless series of greys. When you meet your soulmate, you finally see the world in color. We’re all searching for the person who brings color to our lives. John and Sherlock are no exception. Part 1 of The Colors 'Verse

How to Build a Heart out of Ashes by Teumessian (E, 144,931 w. || Changling AU || Slow Burn, Drug Use, Mentions of Child Abuse / Bullying, Mentions of Student/Teacher Relations, Uni-Age) – In an AU where a small number of the population become Changelings at a young age, at 17 John Watson believes he’s destined for Normal life but then the Change takes him and he is sent to the Baker Institute. There he meets Sherlock Holmes.

Gimme Shelter by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (E, 159,368 w. || 70′s Surfer AU || Period Typical Homophobia, Hawaii, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Professional Surfers, Gay John / Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John was a Sailor, Misunderstandings) – All John Watson wants is the feeling of a freshly waxed surfboard under his feet and the hot California sun baking down onto his back. To finally go pro in the newly formed world of professional surfing and leave the dark memories of his past behind him as he rips across the face of a towering blue barrel. To lounge beside the beach bonfire every evening with an ice cold beer tucked into the cool sand beside him and listen to Pink Floyd and the Doors while the saltwater dries in his sun bleached hair. That’s all he wants, that is, until the hot young phenom taking Oahu and the Hawaiian shores by storm steps up next to him in the sand in the second round of the 1976 International Surf Competition.

Mise en Place by azriona (M, 161,004 w. || Restaurant (Kitchen Nightmares) AU || Sherlock is Gordon Ramsay / Celebrity Sherlock, Restauranteur John, Harry Plays Prominent Role, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, Cranky Sherlock, Bed Sharing, Slow Burn) – John Watson had no intentions of taking over the family business, but when he returns from Afghanistan, battered and bruised, and discovers that his sister Harry has run their restaurant into the ground, he doesn’t have much choice. There’s only one thing that can save the Empire from closing for good – the celebrity star of the BBC series Restaurant Reconstructed, Chef Sherlock Holmes. Part 1 of Mise en Place

Sketchy by serpentynka (E, 184,053 w. || Post-TRF, Post-Mary, John Whump, Slow Burn Love Story, Case Fic, Art, Porn With Feelings, Switchlock, Travelling, Career Change, Family Secrets, Illness / Health) – What (and who) will be left when nobody cares about your Work? A slow-burn fic with cases, places, mistaken identities, unfair choices, essential changes, violent feels, blatant lies, fearless portraiture, family secrets, high-risk bespoke gifts, durable friendships, bedtime stories, foreign travel and tongues, sickness (and health), and the significance of things which are slow to unfurl – but cannot be ignored. Oh, and…porn. Part 1: Sherlock takes on an obvious case (barely a 4) and meets someone who will force him to re-examine what it means to see. Part 1 of Sketchy

The Gilded Cage by BeautifulFiction (E, 326,887 w. || Omegaverse || Omega Sherlock / Alpha John, Friends to Lovers, Dub Con, Reproductive Rights) – In a world where Omegas are the property of the elite Alphas, locked away and treasured by those wealthy enough to buy them, John never questioned his flatmate’s secondary gender. Sherlock Holmes was an Alpha through-and through. Wasn’t he? A chance discovery turns the world on its head, and John is left grappling to come to terms with Sherlock’s past as events conspire to threaten their future. 

[queenrogah]

Chasing Dreams - Part 3

A Queen AU Series

Summary: In the year of 1971, a fresh out of college girl like you dreamed to be the best musician/performer you will ever be. You have been performing in a pub since you’re 17, earning a small amount of money through singing in the train station by sun down. Until the time passed, someone saw you singing in your usual corner in that station and little did you know that he will help you change your life to chase your dream as a performer…

Warnings: mild angst (like mild depression and anxiety problems) mild fluff, it’s not that much for this part

Word Count: 3.3k+ words

Note: AND DOUBLE UPDATE OF THIS SERIES SINCE IT’S BEEN SITTING FOR TWO DAYS SO THAT’S WHY I HAVE TO POST IT RN :)

*MASTERLIST*

PART 1 | PART 2

________________________

♡♡♡ PART THREE: “MUSIC FOR THE BROKEN SOUL” ♡♡♡

THREE WEEKS AFTER

Graduation happened a week ago, that was the day that you hated. You have to see most of their faces, those devilish faces that played you in that damn party. You still didn’t told your father about what happened, you just told him that you and Jonathan have this fight, that’s why he caught you drowned in your own tears walking home from the party. You still didn’t talked to Jonathan, he tried giving you a reassuring smile, waving his hand here and there but that won’t help you being so broken to what happened. William was speaking to Maya, eyeing you everytime you walk past them then hear their laughs that you could probably punch their faces in that second. But you didn’t do that, you didn’t defend yourself to them or even ask them why did they do that to you. You didn’t even do anything to them in that night. Through the whole ceremony, you’re still feeling your heart breaks and tears pooling in your eyes. That night supposed to be memorable, since it’s the end of being in college but it just turned upside down. It became wicked to you.

After that graduation week, you worked part time at your father’s pub then down the bakery just blocks away from your street. You still sing to the people going in the pub, still enjoying the music you deliver. And now you have this goal set in your mind, that you have a dream already, is to become a professional musician. That’s why you still sing in the train station by sunset, waiting for the commuters to come and give their change to you, throwing it on your guitar case.

…

THREE MONTHS LATER - OCTOBER 26, 1971

“Hey Dad!,” Your sister Rosalie called from her room as she skipped her way towards the kitchen where you and your Dad are preparing for dinner. “My boyfriend is coming over, mind if you and Y/N…be on your best behavior?.”

“So I can finally meet this boyfriend of yours huh? I hope he’s not like the last one Rosalie.” Dad said while chopping the vegetables. You’re marinating the meat for you to pop it in the oven afterwards.

“Promise. Brian is just…the best Dad, I think he’s the one for me.” Rosalie said in her lovey-dovey tone of her voice.

“And Mom called earlier too,” You spoke, making both of them whip their heads at you, “Saying that she can’t come to dinner again. I miss talking to her while we eat dinner…”

“Oh dear,” Your Dad reassures, holding you in his arms, “She’ll make it up to you. Your mother is just too busy okay?.”

You bite down your lip as you nod your head at him. Rosalie just gave you a small smile before heading out to her room again, probably change her outfit for her boyfriend to show up later. You finished the meat as you put it on a tray then in the oven.

“Okay Dad it’s already sunset, I need to go to the train station. Promise I’ll be home by dinnertime.” You smiled at him, kissing his cheeks goodbye as you head out to the living room. Getting your guitar and putting on your thick jacket. You walk towards the station where you can see Ned who is the ticket holder, rummaging through his desk.

You knocked on his booth as he shot his head to you, giving you a smile, “Y/N! Just in time for your audience to come.”

“Right on it Ned.” You tip your imaginary hat to him before you took a seat to your usual spot, where this old crates laying in this corner as you brought out your guitar, opening the case for the people to put their change on it. You close your eyes as you think of a song, but everytime you think of something, your mind keeps coming back on the incident to that party. Seeing yourself crying and feeling that broken heart. And then suddenly that song you’ve been singing inside the closet before played in your mind as you began strumming your guitar. Opening your eyes, and sigh, singing the first verse.

Talkin’ to myself and feelin’ old Sometimes I’d like to quit Nothin’ ever seems to fit Hangin’ around Nothin’ to do but frown Rainy days and Mondays always get me down

The train is approaching. Hearing the faint hiss of smoke coming from that transportation vehicle. Still singing your heart out.

What I’ve got they used to call the blues Nothin’ is really wrong Feelin’ like I don’t belong Walkin’ around Some kind of lonely clown Rainy days and Mondays always get me down

Then the train stops in front of you, seeing the usual people you see, as they walk towards your direction, hearing you sing and smiling down on you. They put their money in your case before leaving this place, you feel your heart is getting a little better to see what you’ve been earning through music. This music is not just for the money of your dreams, it’s for your broken soul too.

Funny, but it seems I always wind up here with you Nice to know somebody loves me Funny, but it seems that it’s the only thing to do Run and find the one who loves me

You thought of Jonathan in the lyrics you just sang, because he’s just the only person that’s been there for you. All your life you shared with him, all the laughter, the sadness, the craziness that happened through your childhood, adolescence and your adult life. You feel sorry to him, because he did nothing wrong. And you just pushed him away, declining his love as your best friend. You thought of a plan in talking to him again, maybe tomorrow…or the next day. You cursed to yourself that you don’t even know what to say to him.

You suck in a breath as you continue singing, looking around if they are still people. And then you saw this man, stepping out of the train, who’s also holding his own guitar case and a shoulder bag. This is just the first time you ever see him go here, and then your eyes trailed over his brown curly hair reaching down his collarbones. He’s wearing this pinstripes suit and a white shirt inside, matching with a dark velvet flares and white kicks. You didn’t noticed yourself staring up at him while singing, because he have this perfect nose and jawline and everything. You just saw his hazel eyes, he looked…good.

You look away from him when he took strides forward but stopped when he saw you here, you looked up at him and gave him a small smile before he gave you the same also. He brought out a paper bill, not a change like people do, as he left the station. You ended your song, counting the money you earned. But you can’t forget that beautiful man offered such a huge amount for a street singer like you. So you still sang a few more songs until the station is empty. You put the money inside the aluminum can from your bag as you fix your guitar in the case again. Saying your goodbyes to Ned before leaving again. You reached your street, to suddenly see Jonathan sitting by himself in their front porch. You mentally debated if you’ll approach him or not, but you still did. Sucking up your inhibitions before walking to him, he noticed you walking towards him but he didn’t said a word, he just watch you put your guitar down and sat beside him.

“So? How are you?.” You firstly asked. He’s quiet today. “Jonathan?.”

“I’m not fine. They’ve been fighting non-stop of who will get me on their sides. My father wants me to come with him in Kensington, but my mother said that she and I will be moving in Brixton. But I don’t want to leave here, West Hampstead have been my home. And I don’t want to lose my friends here, especially you Y/N…” He teared up as he looks away from you, not going to see his waterworks.

This is how he means to much to you, so you tried not to cry as you pull your best friend in a hug, so tight that it can crush him. He chuckles in your gesture as he hugged you back. “It’s your choice if you leave or not. Your parents just wants to know what’s best for you.” You said.

“But I don’t want to leave here. I really don’t want to leave you…” He looks at you. You’re seeing those swollen eyes that are mildly deep, maybe he don’t sleep that easy with his parents fighting like that.

“Then tell them you don’t Jonathan. I don’t want you leave either. You’re my only best friend in my life and I don’t want to lose you too.” You said, seeing him look away again.

Then he faces you again, this time with the small smile you’ve been looking for from him, “I promise I won’t leave this place. For you and for me.” He said.

“I love you Jonathan…” You mumbled as you felt his lungs suck in a huge breath. He pulled you in his arms again and kissed your head.

“I love you too Y/N…”

After talking to Jonathan, you said your goodbyes and see him get inside his house again. You walk back to your house and entered, closing the door behind you. You removed your jacket and put your guitar down as you heard voices from the dining room already. And you heard this different voice that you assume it’s your sister’s boyfriend now. You fixed your hair in a ponytail before heading inside the dining room. Your eyes widened when you see your sister’s boyfriend before you.

“Y/N! You’re here now, c'mon have a seat.” Your Dad called you and pat the vacant chair beside him. Only across Rosalie and the man you are just gazing back in the train station. “Y/N, you have to meet–”

“You?.” Rosalie’s boyfriend spoke as you froze in your spot, looking in those hazel eyes again.

Rosalie furrowed her brows as she eyed you and him, “Have you met each other?.” She asked.

“No, I…uh–” You stammer.

“I saw her singing songs in the train station earlier. She’s good in playing the guitar and singing also. That’s why I gave her a huge tip.” He said. And there you tried to hide your blush in his compliment.

Rosalie chuckles, “Brian here is also a musician himself too. He’s in a band called Smile, and yeah…” She said.

“You’re in Smile?.” You asked him as he faces you again while eating the dinner. “I…love your song Doing Alright.”

Brian grinned at you, “You didn’t tell me your sister listens to us. And thank you, it’s a pleasure for you to like our music.” He said.

“I have no idea also,” Rosalie let out an uncomfortable chuckle. Yeah, you don’t know about that because you don’t care about me. Those words swims in your mind. “By the way, Dad…Brian is staying here for three days because they have a gig here.”

Fuck, now he still have to stay here.

“Sure of course Brian is welcome here! And you should also perform in my pub, if you’d like.” Your father asked him.

“Of course sir, I’ll call the band from home so that they will come up here. Maybe we can perform by tomorrow night?.” Brian said and your father nod his head.

“Sure do son.” He smiles and put his arms on your shoulder. You slowly eat your dinner, never getting your eyes on your sister and him being so in love. Lucky her, she got this man who is a musician and who is in the band you slightly admire. And now all you have to do is sit and stare at him and her.

…

You look over to your clock to see it’s already 11PM while you’re still here writing down your journal for some lyrics in your mind. You start to wonder why your father just invited his band, and that threatens your light in that stage in your father’s pub. All of the people there loves you performing and singing your heart out but now this band is going to steak your limelight by tomorrow night. You felt like you’re not important anymore and you lie down your bed, staring at the ceiling. You’re just important in your mother’s life and in Jonathan’s life. You don’t care about Rosalie and her little boyfriend right now–even though you have a little crush on Brian in the first place–you still don’t care.

You jump in shock when you suddenly heard faint moans and bed creaks from the wall where your headboard is. Knowing that it’s coming from your sister’s room. She knows the walls are fucking thin between your rooms and she doesn’t even care that you’re here, trying to finish your own song or would be sleeping now. You groaned in annoyance as the sound became faster, probably changing their positions. Good thing that your father’s room is in the end of the hallway that’s why he can’t hear anything, only you is the victim.

You closed your journal, throwing it on the edge of your bed and get under the covers, then used your pillow to cover your ears. But it won’t budge, as you still heard their noises. You’re this close in barging inside and be the cockblock to your sister and him, but that would be rude and Rosalie would kill you. So, you walk towards your record player as you played a song, a Hendrix song where you can only hear playing his guitar and his voice on this record. Their noises died down, maybe they are finished. But you still didn’t stop your music.

Purple haze, all in my brain Lately things they don’t seem the same Actin’ funny, but I don’t know why Excuse me while I kiss the sky

Your bang your head in the air, feeling the music and the rhythm of it’s beat. Your slumber faded away as you still write your own song while listening to some other music until it’s already in the middle of the night.

Rosalie and Brian on the other hand just finished their business, she was already sleeping in his arms and he suddenly heard the Hendrix song from next door, hearing from your room. He was lip syncing the lyrics, and also hearing you sing loudly in this late hour. He slowly let go of Rosalie in his arms as he change up, he left the room quietly and sighed deeply. Brian never felt this feeling of a home ever since he left his home and start living with himself. Rosalie was lucky that she’s still with her family. He went downstairs to the kitchen to get a glass of water as he leans against the kitchen counter and then he saw this framed picture on the wall where he see Jimi Hendrix beside a girl. Brian was astonished in this polaroid picture, reading on the handwritten text on the bottom.

Me (Y/N) & My number one inspiration, Hendrix. 1967.

And Brian look over Jimi Hendrix’s signature over the picture. Rosalie’s sister is so young in this picture, so young and lucky to meet her idol that is also his inspiration.

“Admiring the photo?.”

Brian quickly look on his left to see you standing by the doorway, leaning there as you look at him looking at your photograph, “Oh bloody hell…” Brian cursed.

“So? You like Hendrix too?.” You asked, going towards the fridge to get a glass of milk. Brian gulped a bit when he saw a small view of your knickers under that oversized shirt as you bend down from the fridge, Brian shaking his head to get that image away from his head.

“I…uh, yeah. I do.” Brian stammers, scratching the back of his neck. You stood beside you and stare at the picture too. You remember this concert where you and your mother went, and after that performance, you just found the Jimi Hendrix backstage–because your mom’s friend is working as the staff there that’s why you can go backstage–and took this photo with him. You remember being in cloud nine when he signs the photo afterwards and gave you his guitar pick. That was the happiest day of your life.

“I was seventeen at that time, living my best life as a teenager. Not thinking of hard things for my family. Everything is just…good.” You said and move away from him.

Brian was silent beside you, he’s just so speechless. “Hard things…you say?.” He asked you.

“Yeah, sometimes my father would be so down to himself in running the pub business. So I helped him with that, I come up with the idea of bringing real music in that place. We set up a stage there and borrowed some old instruments from our friends and…that’s where the pub became big in that street.” You said, feeling uplifted reminiscent. You want to say that his girlfriend, your hell of a sister Rosalie didn’t think of a single solution for the pub, ever in her life. She’s just going out, meeting friends, be consumed with alcohol through the night. She’s nothing of an older sister to you. But you thought that it’s just to rude to say to her own boyfriend here.

“I’m glad you’ve got to help your father. He’s really a good man, never expecting that he’s just too kind.” Brian chuckles as you smiled, nodding at him.

This is just weird because you’re having a heart to heart conversation with your sister’s boyfriend while it’s already midnight.

“I saw you with a guitar earlier. May I see it?.” You asked out of the blue. Brian put up a smile as he went to the living room, following him to see his guitar case by the couch. He sat down and held the guitar, letting it out to see a beauty before your eyes. You haven’t seen a guitar looking like that. The red color is just…perfect. You sat across him, admiring the looks of his guitar.

“Your guitar is…beautiful.” You whispered.

“Me and my father made it together,” Brian spoke as you surprisingly looked at him. “This guitar is just made from scraps because buying a new guitar is too expensive. So that’s why we made one.”

You grinned, “That’s amazing.”

“It is, as much as you and your father building a stage to perform on too.” He said, never stop smiling at you. He’s just so glad that he found someone like you to talk about music unlike Rosalie. So he guess this is the start of friendship with you.

“I didn’t…introduced myself properly to you earlier,” You rambled and stretch out your hand, “Hi I’m Y/N Y/L/N. Rosalie’s sister.”

Then Brian shake hands with you, “I’m Brian May.” He smiles.

And now, you both didn’t knew this will be the start of something new to you and Brian.

______________________

*TAGLIST:

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[aboysbestfriendishismum]

Chapter 53 - Captain Kirk, the talk and the ex talk

In the previous chapter: Eddie and Angie talk every day on the phone. The day of the concert in Portland is near, Meg will go with Grace and Laura, whereas Angie won't be there. Cornell's going back home at dawn when he finds Eddie sitting outside Angie's door. He tells him he's hitched a ride and travelled during the night because he wanted to go back home. Angie and Eddie finally see each other again after the kiss.

**

“What the fuck have I just seen?” Meg's right here next to me, laughing and clapping her hands, together with the small group who rallied around our friends in the parking lot.

“Need bleach to disinfect your corneas?” Stone stoops to talk to her, keeping his arm around my shoulders “Want me to go inside and ask for some?”

“They're admirable though” I remark.

“For their courage and total lack of shame or restraint? I couldn't agree more” he said seriously.

“No. I mean, that too. But I meant their artistic choice”

“Artistic?” Meg eyes me suspiciously, then Jeff and Laura drag her away and they all walk up to the champs who've just given the performance.

“Well, yeah, they could have played it safe without taking any chances and go for an easy WMCA or In the navy. Yet they chose a niche song”

“Well, I wouldn't call it niche...”

“You gotta admit it's not the typical Village People party tune” I shrug and turn around and start walking back to the club.

“Now that I think about that...” Stone follows and reaches out to take me by the hand.

“They even had to make up a dance routine”

“Hehe that's true, you're right” he smiles and gives a little squeeze at my hand and I just snap.

“WHAT?”

“Huh?”

“What the fuck are you talking about Stone?” I plant myself pretty close to the entrance.

“Did you take any drugs that are kicking in now?” Stone studies my face with a perplexed look and a badly hidden smile.

“Come here!” I change direction and drag him back into the parking lot but towards the back, actually towards the band's van.

“Did Village People give you subliminal advice on how to spend the night? Well, the rest of it...” he asks as I gesture for him to open the door of the van.

“I see you've still got some sense of humour for me too!”

“Gracie, what's wrong?” he opens the van and flails his arms, while I walk around to get on the passenger seat.

“Get on and I'll tell you”

“So?” we're sitting and we're locked in and that fucking grin is still there.

“What's happening to you, Stone?”

“To me? I should ask you this question...”

“You haven't even made fun of me once since I got here!”

“What?”

“Being tender and sweet is ok... although I have to admit that sometimes while we were talking on the phone I wanted to yell 'Leave this body!' because I don't know you anymore”

“I can't... I don't understand”

“But at least you were joking with me, I mean, it was always you, though covered in a thick layer of … candy? Tonight you just keep on... fucking agreeing with me!”

“Should I not?”

“NO!”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I'm sure, I want the good old... well, the old Stone, not his pale copy. If this is the way you are when you have a girlfriend, you know, I'm not sure I want to take on that role”

“Oh. Well, that's curious” Stone looks surprised and he's not even trying to hide that grin anymore.

“I mean, I want that role, I like you, I really do... It's just, I can't understand what's wrong with you lately”

“That's curious because all my exes preferred the pale copy”

“Your exes?”

“Actually, they required it”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that girls usually get with me, then regularly try to change me... 'Did you really have to make that joke?'... 'Don't embarrass me!'... 'You said you'd call at 7. It's 7:01, what the fuck are you doing?'... 'Do you need to spend the whole night of your concert with your bandmates?'... 'Do you really have to play tonight?'... 'How could you make fun of my dress? My record? My mother? My dog?'... And each and every time I was like, you know, where have you been? Who have you been dating? Don't you know me? I thought you wanted to be with me and this is literally who I am”

“I don't wanna change you, you're fine to me the way you are”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, you can call me 15 minutes later, sleep with your guitar or... with Jeff! And you can easily insult my whole wardrobe”

“Even 20 minutes later?”

“Even one hour!”

“Really?”

“Sure! This is bullshit, stupid little things, nothing to focus on”

“Ok in that case... it looks like you passed the test” Stone holds his fingers up to his chin as if he's pondering something, then gives me a peck on the nose and gets out of the vehicle just like that. He walks around the van and opens the door for me.

“What?”

“And with flying colors!”

“What test?”

“Stone Gossard's Stress Test”

“And what the hell is it?”

“A kind of stress you couldn't stand for... mmm... not even five hours” Stone looks at his watch to calculate the time spent together tonight and I get out shocked from the van.

“Are you telling me... you did it on purpose?”

“Sure”

“And the cheesy phone calls?”

“Those too.” he's about to lock the van and my puzzled face tells him he needs to elaborate more “Oh that was to figure out if you're a clingy psycho. And you're not. You're a normal young woman with normal insecurities and doubts about the guy she's just started dating”

“So, what if I had given in and gone along with you?”

“I'd have dumped you on the spot” he finally locks the van and circles my shoulders with his arm once again, kissing me quickly on the lips.

“On the spot?”

“Well, no, of course I'd have waited for us to at least meet in person so we could talk” we walk up to the back entrance of the club and I can't help burst into laughter.

“Hahaha shut up! You'd have broken up with me on the phone with no remorse. Actually, you'd have probably asked Jeff to do the job for you!”

“God, you really do know me” he stops in his tracks, grabs me by my hips and pulls me in a tight hug, amused.

“Yes. And I still want to be with you, isn't it crazy?”

“Well, when I called you normal I was clearly putting it mildly”

“What are we then? I mean, are we a couple, are we dating or what?”

“What do you want us to be?” he asks as he rests his forehead against mine.

“Well, I want to be with you... but I want to take it slow”

“Uh what a coincidence! That's exactly what I want as well” he suddenly pulls away and takes me by the hand as we resume walking.

“Anyway, considering we already had the talk, I'd say we're well on the way”

“The talk?”

“The ex talk”

“Uh, that!”

“Well, you didn't give me the details but...”

“We can easily skip those” he shakes his head.

“And then there's the part about my ex boyfriends that still remains untold”

“Can't we skip that too?”

“You're not jealous, are you Gossard?”

“Nuh, it's just pathetic cases make me sad”

“Ha-ha”

“You said you liked my sense of humour, now enjoy it” he jokes as we walk hand in hand and he delicately rubs the back of my hand with his thumb.

“Can I reconsider it quickly?”

“No. You've even just called me by my surname to act as the funny alternative girlfriend, you can't go back”

“Any other remark before we get in?” I question when we're at the door.

“Yes, one thing. How many M&m's did you kill to make that skirt?”

“HA! I KNEW YOU HATED IT”

“You can't imagine the struggle to keep my mouth shut the whole time. And I did it for you, you should appreciate that”

**************************************************************************************************************************************

“Hey, did you see Mike?” Eddie runs into me in the parking lot and asks the wrong person.

“Mmm no, the last time I saw him he was mimicking tango moves with Cantrell along that railing, while the other Village People were doing the wave”

“That was... intense”

“I don't know now. Oh you know what? You should try and find the coordinates of the spot where I'm standing right now and calculate the one that's exactly the antipodes on the earth's surface 'cause that's were he probably is. Most likely” I spew my bile on poor Eddie, who remains confused.

“Ok”

“That or... he's, you know, inside” I add as I calm down.

“Ok, thank you Meg.” Eddie smiles and is about to leave, then waits “Mike's got nothing against you, he just wants to be by himself for a while so he doesn't fuck anything up”

“Yeah, well, I can't wait for him forever” I flail my arms then fold them back against my chest, buttoning up my jacket. It's cold tonight, fuck.

“Don't worry, he knows” Vedder nods at me and gets in the club, leaving me standing here like a lemon.

Sure he knows, he knows pretty well. Maybe that's what he hopes for. He wants me to get tired of waiting for him. I just need to find someone else and he wouldn't be in trouble anymore, right?

“Hey? Hey girl!” I hear someone yelling behind my back so I turn around to see if by any chance they're talking to me.

Two guys, apparently intoxicated by alcohol or something else. They come close smiling and elbowing each other. Yeah, unfortunately they're talking to me.

“Yes?”

“Hi! Excuse me, my friend and I are right in the middle of... of a...” the blond guy can't find the words, his friend with the dreadlocks comes to the rescue.

“A dilemma”

“Yes! A dilemma. You're the only one who can help us”

“You can't decide who's the biggest jerk between the two?”

“Hahahaha that's a good one!”

“I told you she seemed funny”

“We can't decide what's the worst cover version between Hotel California by Al B. Sure and Under my thumb by Sam Kinison. Do you know them?”

What. The. Fuck.

“The first one, for sure”

“Yeeeeeeeeeeeah! See? What did I tell you, I won!” blondie growls and beats his chest like a gorilla.

“Fuck you always win, that's not fair”

“And what did you win?” I ask 'cause I wanna see where this nonsense is going.

“The chance to hit on you, sweetie!”

“Don't you have a friend?” his buddy asks, still disappointed.

“Fine. Well you had your chance. It didn't work. Sorry. Bye!” I make wide gestures with my arms and hands and quickly step off.

“Aw come on! Why? Where are you going?”

“Guys, you need to change your technique because I swear this isn't just the worst pass ever done at me, it's the worst I've ever witnessed in general”

Sorry, Mike, given the available men around, I'm afraid the solution to your problems is still way too far.

I get back into the club right when Vedder's exiting, together with two friends of Mike's. That's why he was looking for him.

“Good night Meg!”

“Night”

Is he leaving? Where? Huh. The hall seems even bigger now that the show is over and there's a little less people on the floor, dancing to the dj's setlist.

“Baby here I am, I'm the man on the scene!” a Mike, but not the one I was looking for, sings aloud into my ears, dancing and skipping behind my back.

“Hey Starr, I've been told from a very believable source you're not a bad dancer at all”

“That's right! Your roommate was very satisfied with the performance”

“Yeah, despite your quick hand!” I retort as I jokingly squeeze his asscheek.

“Shhhhhh don't say it too loud! If Jerry hears us, he will get all upset and want to beat me up once again” Mike stops in the middle of the hall, looking around and gesturing me to shut up.

“Did he beat you up?”

“Nuh, he's all talk and no action, he never does it in the end. But there's a first time for everything”

While Starr describes his fears, I inspect the crowd and at some point I spot a Stevie Ray Vaughan style hat I know too well. Two girls are talking to that hat.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA you're killing me!” I give him a small nudge but he doesn't move.

“Ok. It didn't seem such a brilliant joke to me though”

“Hahaha no it wasn't but just laugh all the same, ok? Laugh! Would you please fucking laugh?!” I grab him on his shoulders and literally shake him.

“Are you high?”

“Just pretend we're having very much fun, ok? HAHAHA!” I throw my arms around his neck and maybe this dumbass finally understands something.

“Aaaaaah I see! Mikey's looking this way, isn't he?” he understood but doesn't uderstand that if he turns around he's gonna ruin the whole thing.

“Don't look!” I grab his curly head and straighten it forcefully up so he looks back at me.

“Hey, relax... I just wanted to check if he was with any girls”

“I can tell you: yes, he is. Happy now?”

“Well, yes, because if there's girls around, you get mad” he smirks and he almost gets me more mad than the girls themselves.

“Oh thank you! And why would that make you happy exactly?” I grasp his neck again but less gently.

“Because the more upset you are, the more you'll be seeking for revenge. And I can take advantage of the situation!” he wiggles his eyebrows and tries to cop a feel.

“You're such an asshole” I shake my head and let go of him, leaving him alone in the middle of the dance floor.

“Meg, where are you going?” Mike, still the wrong one, follows me as I make my way through the dancing people and catches up with me at the bar “Come on, I was just kidding! You know me, we're friends, aren't we?”

“Ok”

“But if you want to do what that chick with the bandana is doing to Mike, I'm in. Anything to help a friend in need!”

I frown and turn around and see the girl has just pulled up her shirt right in front of Mike, who just stands there in the middle of a group of howling men without batting an eye. First her friend laughs at the scene, then imitates her and pulls her top up as well.

“Fuck you, Mike” I hiss after I down my whiskey shot.

“Who? Me or him?”

“Both”

**************************************************************************************************************************************

Monday. Weird day choice for a concert, especially for the last gig of a tour. Actually, as far as Eddie told me, they were initially supposed to play last Friday. Then there were problems and it all slipped to today, so the guys had a long free weekend. This kind of gift is even better when it's unexpected. Just like the cancelled class this morning. I spend the morning running errands and doing all the chores I needed to do, I had a slow lunch, I studied for a couple of hours not to feel guilty, I even baked a cake, which would actually make me feel partially guilty, and now I'm free. Free to make a small change in my plans with Eddie. Luckily I manage to park just outside his condo, I grab the cake, enter the building thanks to a guy that's perfectly dressed for a bike ride who holds the door for me and I run up the stairs.

What if I disturb him?

You don't.

He must be resting after his shift.

His shift ended hours ago, he's got nothing to do.

Maybe I'm about to show up right in the middle of the writing of a new song and he'll lose inspiration because of me.

Well, if he really tells you he's busy-

He'd never tell me, Eddie's too sweet.

If you actually notice by yourself that he's busy, you can just give him the cake and leave, after all you'll see him at the show tonight.

That's not the same.

You can see him whenever the fuck you want, Angie.

What if he's not at home?

If he's not, nobody will open the door.

What if Jeff's there?

Then Jeff will have the whole cake, just stop with the drama.

What if he's with another girl?

Please! Who?! Eddie's so antisocial you're the only girl he found.

I get to the aparment and through the closed door I can hear the unmistakable voice of Ian MacKaye. This is Eddie, for sure. I ring the doorbell and the music is turned down a little. The door opens almost immediately, in a tiny crack.

“Hey!” Eddie greets me, quickly closes the door to unlock the chain, then opens it again.

“Hi E-” he pulls me towards me and without realising it, I find myself inside his apartment, in the middle of a hug and a kiss.

“What are you doing here? What time is it?” Eddie glances at his wrist but there's no watch on it, then clumsily walks backwards, dragging me within.

“It's almost half past four, Eddie”

“Wait, were we supposed to meet now? Sorry, my mind's kinda confused” hi little lines on Eddie's forehead! I missed you.

“Hehe no, we said tonight at the show, don't you remember?” this morning I saw him at the mini market and went there for a quick hello before going to class. He almost got us caught by Hannigan as we were kissing beside the ice cream department.

“Right! Weren't you busy today?”

“Yeah, but once I got to the university I found out two professors weren't there, so I got some free time” I put the cake on the small table at the entrance to keep it safe.

“Great!” he exclaims maybe with a little too much energy as he hugs me once again.

“And I thought... well, I could drop by and... surprise you”

“Even greater!” I takes me by the arms and loops them around his neck before kissing me.

“Didn't I disturb you?”

“Pfffft no”

“Are you sure?”

“I was just chilling a little”

“Chilling? With Fugazi?”

“You know, I'm weird.” Eddie rubs his nose against mine and his dimples are way beyond the alert level “You look so beautiful”

“Did you smoke pot?”

“Can't you just... like... take a compliment?”

“Sure I can. But that doesn't change the fact you've been smoking” my nostrils don't lie, neither does his face.

“Yes. But pot's got nothing to do with the fact you're beautiful”

“Ok. Do you have any left?”

“Sure, my princess!”

I realized I like hanging out with Eddie. Wow, what a huge discovery! I've always liked it, obviously. It's just, well, after... what happened, I was afraid things would change, that we wouldn't be us anymore, that nothing would ever be the same. Yet it's exactly the same. We're friends, we laugh and joke together, we talk about anything, we go out together, everything is the same. Since he came back, we met every day. On Friday afternoon we played basketball at the court, on Saturday he came to the diner at closing time, yesterday we did another tour of Pike Place. I mean, it's all like it used to be. Kisses, cuddling and make out sessions are a plus, lovely interludes that take nothing away from the rest. Everything's going just right and I'm sure it'll stay like that. As long as none of us talks about the whole matter, of course. Meg can't believe we didn't say anything to each other, whereas I think that's why this thing works. I mean, sure I'd  like to make sense of all this, to figure out what we are: we are together, we're not together, we're a couple, we're friends... I don't have much experience about relationships: with Sean, well, we both set up what we would do together, whereas Martin asked me with a card (Do you wanna be my girlfriend? Cross Yes or No); then came Drake and Dave that were, in two totally different ways, actual non-relationships, nobody said anything, nobody knows if they even started, we just know they ended by themselves; and finally, Jerry, well, no need to explain that. I mean, I went from school boyfriends to adult relationships, there's nothing in between and I have no idea how you know as an adult wether you're in a relationship or not. Do you have a talk specifically about that? Or one of the pair simply starts addressing the other spontaneously calling him or her my boyfriend or my girlfriend and you just start considering yourselves a couple by implication from then on? Nobody says shit and if you haven't told each other to fuck off after N months then you're a couple? Do you automatically become a couple after a minimum time-span of exclusive sex? How do I figure out if I'm with Eddie or not? Is it so necessary to figure it out? Uhm probably yes, if you don't want to get shafted like with Jerry Cantrell. I have the right to know what's happening and decide if I’m ok with it or not. The truth is, I'm so very ok with this situation, with Eddie, the way it is, that I'm scared stiff I'll do or say the wrong thing and fuck it all up. Eddie's the best thing that's happened to me in a long time. I loved Jerry, and I somehow still do, I can't deny it, 'cause I care for him and everything. Anyway I never had the same connection, the delicious complicity, even the intimacy I have with Eddie, although we haven't done anything actually intimate... What if he wants to do it? SHIT, WHAT IF HE WANTS TO DO IT NOW?! Lounging on a small couch with Eddie listening to post-punk, eating chocolate cake and smoking substances that remove inhibitions: not exactly the best recipe for abstinence.

“Hahaha this was a particularly good idea” Eddie grabs two more squares of cake, he eats one immediately and places the other on his leg, his thigh that keeps rubbing against mine.

“And I had no idea about your induced appetite”

“It's a great idea regardless of the munchies. Take another bit” he suggests chewing.

“No, I'm fine, I ate a quarter alone!”

“So what? I ate half of it, there's another quarter left” Eddie gets all serious as he shows the different fractions of cake on the plate with the knife.

“That's for Jeff”

“But... Jeff's not here now” he whispers seductively, as if he was suggesting to cheat on a boyfriend with him and thank god I don't have a boyfriend because Eddie can be so convincing. Even now that his eyes are two thin slits and he can't stay more than ten seconds without laughing. Actually, when he laughs it's even worse.

“But if he still finds some when he comes home and eats it, that will make me happy”

“So selfless” he moves a lock of my hair away from my face and it falls back in the same place right away, he gives me a small kiss, then another, then one more, and he keeps smiling so wide that I'm afraid he'll gouge my eyes out with those cheekbones.

“Err Eddie?”

“Yes?”

“The cake” I point at the chocolatey square that's about to crumbe between our legs.

“Oops!” he lets go of me and takes the piece of cake, eating it in one bite.

This couch is a mess, there are crumbles everywhere.

Luckily it's not your apartment and it's none of your business. Focus on something else!

The B side of 13 songs has come to an end and this time I decide to go and turn off the stereo. I need a diversion.

“I... gotta go to the bathroom!”

“Ok”

My interior monologue goes on, both on the toilet and at the sink, as I wash my hands.

Why am I like this?

Because you're stupid.

Why do I freeze? I'm comfortable with Eddie... so why do I have these totally awkward moments?

Because it's a new thing, you still have to get used to it.

Get used to what? To making out with a hot guy? That should be the easiest most natural thing in the world! I should be in the living room with him now, not here, fixating on my face in the mirror.

The joint you smoked may be responsible for the fixation, the rest is just insecurity. Try and act normal, relax and don't think too much.

Easier said than done...

I get out of the bathroom and walk back into the living room. Eddie's not here. He must have gone away. And he probably left a message with FIX YOUR FUCKING PROBLEMS written on it.

He can't leave, you dork, you're at his place.

Oh. Right.

“Hey, here you are! I was looking for something to drink. There's a bottle of red wine I really wanna open with you but not today. With the show and all the rest, I'd better not, what do you think?” Eddie comes out from the kitchen with a carton of ACE juice and two glasses.

“Hehe yeah, maybe you'll better not” I answer as I take my glass from his hands.

“This is Jeff's stuff, healthy and vitamin filled” Eddie fills my glass then does the same with his, puts the carton on the coffee table then seats on the armchair.

On the armchair. Sure.

Well done, Angie. Congratulations. You sent him the message to stay away. I drink a sip of juice and place the glass on the table, Eddie makes gestures and mumbles something I can't decipher because he does it as he's drinking.

“What? Do you need something?”

“Mmmhh”

“The cigarettes?” I ask pointing at the pack.

“The remote. Let's watch some tv, do you want to?” he finally explains himself. Eddie wanting to watch tv? I guess my message was too strong.

“What's up with the tv? Do you wanna take a nap?” why don't I just keep my fucking mouth shut? He gets close and you push him away, he finds something to do to pass the time and you have to pick on him. Nothing is ever good for you.

“Hehe no, no napping, just relaxing a little” he replies stretching out a little to put his empty glass on the edge of the coffee table. I move it towards the center so it doesn't fall down, then I get the remote for Eddie.

“Here”

“Thanks” I'm about to go and sit down on the couch but Eddie grabs me first by the arm, then by the hips, and in a couple of seconds I find myself sitting on his lap .

“Eddie! Come on, what are you doing?”

“Where did you think you were going?”

“On the couch, I can't sit here... like this...” I pry up the backrest of the armchair to turn around and look at him as I speak.

“No? And why?” he reaches between my knees and pulls up one of my legs so it lies across his.

“Because I can't be... all sprawled out on you like this” he does the same with the other leg and now I am indeed in his arms.

“Who said that?”

“I'm heavy, Eddie, I'll crush you...” we'll end up falling asleep and I'll suffocate him.

“I can't fell any burden at all” liar.

“It's the drug, it numbed you”

“Haha Angie, it takes much more than a couple of joints to numb me, trust me” Eddie squeezes my hip and with the other hand is still caressing my knees over the jeans.

“But... you're uncomfortable”

“I've never been so comfortable in my whole life” he states and rests, well, actually drops his head against my chest.

“If you say so...”

“Are you comfortable?” he asks looking up. Hi again, Eddie's frown!

“Yes...”

“Great,” he kisses me in a way that I almost fall off this fucking armchair, then gives me the remote “turn it on then”

“Ok, what do you want to see?”

“You choose”

I start zapping through the channels and hope to find something that can give us a prompt of conversation and thank god I find it amost immediately.

“Uh! Star Trek reruns! Do you like it?”

“I used to watch it as a child. I'd say I was more into super heroes and sitcoms rather than science fiction, but I do remember it”

“So you haven't seen the new series? The Next Generation?”

“Uhm no”

“No big deal, I prefer this old one too, but the new one is not bad at all, you know?”

“Hehe ok”

“If you don't like it we can watch something else”

“No Angie, it's good” he steals the remote, turns up the volume a little and sticks it somewhere between the armrest and the pillow.

“OH MY GOD, IT'S ARENA!”

“That is...?” Eddie gives me a perplexed look for my sudden excitement.

“It's a memorable episode! Captain Kirk against the Gorn, have you seen it?”

“Err it's not like I remember it all, as I told you”

“Oh if you had seen this episode, you'd remember, trust me” I adjust myself better on Eddie's knees.

“Is it good?”

“It's one of the best episodes ever!” I let go of the backrest and clasp my hands behind his neck.

“Cool!”

“And it has the worst fight scene in the history of American television”

“What?”

“Maybe even world television but I don't have the instruments to venture a guess”

“How can it be one of the best episodes if it's got a scene that literally sucks?”

“It's something I can't explain, you wouldn't understand”

“You mean that it's so bad that it's good?”

“Yes, but no. Not really. All I can say is that Star Trek is made of this too”

The episode has already started, although not long ago, so I do a quick summary for Eddie. The attack on Cestus 3, the space battle between Enterprise and the enemy ship, Metrons getting upset because fuckers invaded their sectors.

“Isn't it basicallly some kind of fight trial?” Eddie asks as he's still holding me firmly. When his limbs start tingling and losing feeling and I crash down on the floor, I'll say I TOLD YOU!

“Exactly! A trial by combat. As in, you came here fucking around in our space, now we're gonna take your two captains and put you in this desert planet so you can take this shit elsewhere and sort it out between you two, until one of you dies”

“Who lives, wins”

“Yeah and the one who dies condemns his crew to death too”

Eddie watches the episode in silence, either he's very focused or he's stoned. Now it's me resting my head against his shoulder. All in all, it's just Eddie, why should I freak out? I don't know if I owe it to Captain Kirk or if it's because of the forced contact on the armchair but I feel much more relaxed now.

“I think I smoked too much, I see it all in slow motion” he points out after a while and try and I hardly stifle a laugh.

“It's not you, that's the scene”

“What do you mean?”

“This is the terrible fight I told you about, it's at normal speed”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Hahahaha no”

“What the fuck was that two-handed punch?”

“That's Captain Kirk signature move! He uses it often”

“Yes but it's totally useless”

“Details”

“And why is that alien so slow?”

“He's big, he can't be too sleek”

“He couldn't even kick him! Here, now he's crushing him”

“But Kirk reacts and tries to strangle him”

“He'll never make it”

“Oh he will, with the powerful move of the-”

“Head slap?! Hahahaha”

“See? He stunned him”

“Run away!”

“He can't, he has to fight him to save himself and the Enterprise”

“What the fuck is he doing now?”

“He throws a rock at him”

“That guy's big, the rock won't do him anything”

“Metrons told them they'd find all the resources on the planet”

“If he kills the alien with that pebble, I swear I'll scream”

“It must weigh a lot. Look, look at the elegance of the throw gesture”

“There it is hahaha! As I said, he didn't even move”

“He managed to make him even more upset”

“Where is he going? Jesus Christ yes! Now that is a rock”

“He wants to respond by throwing an asteroid at him basically”

“Such a poor figure for the Captain of Enterprise”

“Shut up, heretic! Kirk is not up for debate”

“Come on, you can't deny he sucks at fighting right now”

“But he's good at dodging asteroids”

“If they go on like this, this fight could last for ages”

“Hehe luckily, it ends at some point”

“Are you sure they're not still fighting right now?”

“No no, I swear”

“Thank god”

And the end of the fight finally comes. Kirk builds some kind of mortar with bamboo, diamonds and colorful dust he found on the planet. He fires it and hits the Gorn.

“So MacGyver didn't invent anything new?” Eddie says and I giggle.

“Hehe no, he didn't”

“Won't he kill him?”

“No, he won't. That's the best part of the episode. Rhetoric, I know, but I'm a sucker for the Federation's moral culture”

We watch the episode till the end: Kirk spares the Gorn's life because he realizes he was just trying to defend his corner of space. The Metron shows up and he's touched by Captain Kirk's pity, a trait he wasn't expecting to find in humans, and saves both him and the Gorn.

“A positive moral in the end”

“Yeah, there's still hope for humanity”

“Anyway... that fight really sucked, I can't” Eddie lets go of my legs and covers his face with his hand as he laughs.

“I can't deny it. But you gotta understand it was 1968”

“Yeah, sorry, you're right. That's how people fought lizard aliens at the time”

“Hehe yeah, now we know much more about lizard aliens but at that time that's how it was done”

“We should have recorded it so we could watch it again in slow motion. I didn't really understand what was happening during the fight, they were too fast”

“Hahaha”

“How can they broadcast such a violent thing at this time of the day? Don't they think about children?”

“You're funnier when you watch Star Trek, I'll take a mental note”

“It's got nothing to do with Star Trek”

“Oh right, it's pot. I'll take a note anyway”

“It's not that either”

“What is it then?”

“It's you”

“Oh...”

**************************************************************************************************************************************

“Did you hear that too?” Angie abruptly breaks our kiss and looks around.

“What?”

“That noise”

“What noise?”

“I don't know, some kind of thud”

“I didn't hear that... I don't know, I must have left a window open” I shrug and kiss her again.

“When I went to the bathroom I didn't see any open window from the hallway” she insists.

“No noise then” I nip her nose gently and try again with the kissing.

“But I'm sure I heard something” it seems there's nothing to do.

I thought she was calm now. She was so tense... I can't see why though. I'm trying everything to make her comfortable.

“Maybe it came from outside?” I cup the side of her face, lean in and...

“I don't know, it seemed more like it came from round here” she explains generically pointing at the entrance and the hallway.

“As I said, maybe someone has just got home and shut the door”

“Yes... it can be... you're right” she finally smiles at me and I can pick up where we left off.

At least until someone rings the door bell. Unlike the previous imaginary sound, we both can hear this clearly.

“Someone's at the door” Angie slips away from my arms and stands up in the middle of the room.

“Yeah, let's see who the fuck it is.” I reluctantly get up from the armchair and walk to the door “Jeff?”

“Sorry man, I forgot the keys” my roommate enters and throws his backpack on the floor.

“It's ok. But what are you doing here? Didn't you have to work until six?”

“Yeah. It's almost seven o'clock, Ed” Jeff laughs as he takes off his jacket and hangs it on the rack.

“WHAT? Already?”

“I see you couldn't stand Violet but if I were you, I'd wear the watch she bought you as a present, you'd need it” he pats me on the back a couple of times, folds his arms and looks at me. A huge grin on his face.

“I'll buy another one...” I nod and walk to go back to the living room, then turn around expecting to see him right behind me, following me. No. He's still there, standing near the door, laughing. Why the fuck is he laughing?

“I'm gonna go and take a quick shower, we're supposed to do soundcheck in half an hour” he finally breaks from his position and makes his way through the hallway.

“HI JEFF!” Angie calls him from the living room and Ament turns tail.

“Angie? Hi! I didn't see you!” I join them and see Angie, holding her bag with her coat on. I can't say I was expecting to see her like she was five minutes ago, stretched out on the armchair with her shirt unbuttoned, but...

“Eh you were walking fast...”

“What are you doing here? Wait, don't tell me you're not coming to the show!” Jeff pretends to get mad and Angie doesn't buy it.

“Don't get all worked up, I'm coming tonight! I just popped by to bring you something” she barely points at the plate and the bass player basically throws himself on the cake.

“Chocolate! Great. Well done, Angie, especially since you brought it to us and not to the other losers”

“I wanted to. But bringing a cake to the Off Ramp was kind of impractical”

“Extremely impractical, totally agree” he adds with his mouth full of cake.

“Weren't you going to take a shower? Aren't we late?” I ask as I walk up to them.

“Oh well, whatever, the acoustics always suck at the Off Ramp”

“Ok, so, gotta go now” Angie dribbles Jeff, and me.

“Already?” I complain.

“Yeah, I can see you're busy”

“Why don't you just wait and come with us to the club?” Jeffrey has the best idea of the century.

“Sure! A little patience and we can go all together” I chime in.

“Thank you but... I can't, I've got a couple things to do that I can't postpone hehe. See you tonight!” Angie dashes my hopes and heads for the door.

“Bye Angie, thank you for the cake” Jeff shrugs and sits down holding the plate in his hand, cutting another slice. I'm surprised he's not splitting the cake with his bare hands. Maybe it's because she's still here. Not for long though.

“Bye guys!” she stops and looks back at us one last time, waving her hand, then disappears. I can barely make a move to catch up with her and I already hear the door open and close.

What the hell...?

“Did I interrupt something?” I'm still trying to process what's just happened when Jeff asks me.

“No”

“Are you sure? It looks like there was a nice party going on in here...” my friend points at my shirt randomly abandoned on the coffee table, the stubs in the ashtray, the glasses.

“Sure. Ehm... I'll be back in a minute” I take a few steps back.

“Where are you going?”

“I gotta... I forgot I had something to tell her”

“Really? And what is that?” Jeff crosses his legs on the couch and keeps on cackling at me.

“Work stuff... I'll be right back” I clear out and dash down the stairs.

I didn't tell anything to Jeff but I have the feeling he sensed something. Well, it's not like he didn't know before, he's not stupid. Anyway, I'd tell him. But obviously Angie doesn't want anyone to know. How can I tell? Well, let me think... maybe the fact that on Friday, after we had spent a great afternoon together, when we met with the whole gang at the Scottish Pub to celebrate the end of the tour, she barely talked to me and sat as far from me as she could? And what about Saturday night, when I went to Roxy's to see her and we were holding hands and she dropped mine in a second as soon as Meg appeared? I see it's been only a few days but I can't see why we should hide.

“Angie!” I draw up to her between the second and first floor and she looks particularly confused when she sees me.

“Eddie? What's up?”

“What do you mean, what's up? What was that?” I stop a flight of stairs higher.

“What was what?” she asks and it looks like she really doesn't understand.

“That” I reply, mechanically waving my hand at her and going down a couple of steps.

“A universal greeting gesture?”

“And didn't you forget anything?” I roll my eyes and keep walking down.

“I don't know... what did I forget?”

“I don't know... something like this?” I get right next to her, cup her face with both hands and kiss her.

“Oh. You meant this” she awkwardly answers.

“Yes, this.” I add with another quick kiss “Why did you leave like that?”

“Well, Jeff was there...”

“So what?”

“He could see us”

“I repeat: so what?” Angie and I haven't talked about it yet. Actually every time I try and talk about us, she changes the topic of the conversation and I didn't want to push until now. After all, it's only been a few days. But maybe now it's time to finally do the talking.

“Eddie...”

“What's wrong if he sees us? He'll find out sooner or later”

“Yes but... I don't know” Angie drops her gaze down to the floor.

“You don't want anyone to know, I get that. I just can't see why”

“Just for now”

“I didn't ask you how long, I asked you why”

“Because... you know how it is with the guys... they never mind their own business” she starts bantering and gesticulating.

“Angie”

“You're in my friends' band and if something happene-”

“Angie, I'll tell you a secret: they really don't give a fuck about us. Sure, they can tell a couple of jokes, make fun of us, gossip a little. Then every one goes back to their own lives and their own problems”

“Hehe I know!”

“So?”

“I just want to wait before telling them, that's all”

“We don't need to actually tell them, we don't have to make big announcements, we can just... stop hiding. And our friends will sniff that out”

“Can't we just wait for a while before having them... sniff?”

“You're ashamed. Of me”

“What?! Shut up, what the fuck are you talking about?!”

“What's the matter then? Don't you trust me?”

“It's not that, Eddie”

“'Cause if you don't, just tell me what I have to do so I can be trusted”

“You don't have to do anything”

“I am not Jerry” if she doesn't want to talk about the elephant in the room, then it's up to me.

“God, I know!”

“Are you sure?”

“Sure I know or I wouldn't be here with you”

“I'm not... shit, I don't want to hide 'case I've got nothing to hide, ok? What am I? The new non-boyfriend? The secret boyfriend of the week?”

“What... what did you just say?” Angie finally looks up at me, only she does it like she had just seen a ghost.

“That I don't want to hide and-”

“No, after that” Angie leans against the stair railing, holding on to it with both hands.

“That I've got nothing to hide?”

“Right after that”

“Secret boyfriend?”

“Yes. That one. What... what is it supposed to mean?” she asks wide-eyed.

“Well that's something I don't like. Being your boyfriend and nobody knows. I can't-”

“You... are you my boyfriend?”

“Well yes... am I... not?” I thought I was. Maybe I got it wrong.

“YEAH! I mean, I don't know, we never talked about it...” she looks down again and I get closer to her.

“I never talked about that because you didn't seem at ease, every time I tried and say something...”

“I know, it's true... it's my fault”

“Fault? What fault? There's no fault. It's... this new thing started between us and it's a beautiful thing and we're spending time together. And it's great but you're kind of embarrassed because it's fresh, there's nothing strange, it's perfectly understandable”

“So... what are we... you and I?” she asks and I can feel it's really hard for her to be so upfront.

“What do you want us to be?”

“I asked... uhm, I asked you first” she retorts with a little smile. Her well known irresistible smile.

“We're together”

“Ok”

“And what do you think?”

“I think we're together too”

“Great” I take her hands off the railing and kiss them one after the other.

“So... you haven't been seeing other people?” she asks and my eyes roll so hard I can see my brain.

“No, Angie, I haven't been seeing anyone else...” then suddenly, a suspect as I drop her hands “Wait, are you seeing someone else?”

“What? No!”

“Tell me if you have” what if all this secrecy and embarrassment are only because she's been dating another guy? After all, we never talked about it, so we never decided how exclusive this relationship was. Who the fuck is going out with her? I swear I'm gonna beat the shit out of-”

“Who do you think I'm going out with?”

“I don't know, you tell me”

“Nobody, Eddie. Only you” this time she takes my hand, delicately holds it caressing the back first, then the fingers and the palm, carefully studying it, without looking at me.

“Ok”

“So... we're a couple”

“Yep... let's go tell Jeff the good news!”

“Eddie, please”

“Just kidding”

“Let's keep this between us, for a few days... ok?”

“Ok, princess”

[readingwebcomics]

Analyzing Questionable Content: Pages 101-150

While I’m all for body positivity Dora, that’s kind of public nudity. Most cities tend to frown on that. Although this IS your personal business you’re doing this in… I wonder what the law for that is? Like, do you have to pay for a permit to allow public nudity in a location you own? Or do city laws take precedent?

…I’m thinking about this too much, let’s move on.

Hey, it’s Raven again! Hi, Raven! And you thought I was kidding when I said the no-name character who showed up for all of one comic would come back as a regular character. This is part of the reason why I enjoy Jeph’s style – he can, and does, very easily take bit players he made for a single gag or to fulfill one role and flesh them out if he thinks they can serve a purpose or if they entertain him enough. The most famous example of this will be roughly 2900 comics from now so… holy shit, I just realized Bubbles is 1000 comics old! That’s crazy awesome!

Right. Sorry, some of you might not understand a word of what I just typed. Nevermind, moving right along.

Here we see the beginnings of Dora’s next character arc, if you’d like to call it that. I do have some questions about this as far as the in-universe time-scale goes, but I’ll touch on that later. Faye also invites Dora along to hang with her and Marten to indoctrinate her to the Hipster Lifestyle™ to serve two purposes: First, that their relationship as a boss and employee is relaxed enough that they’re comfortable doing this, telling us a lot about the way these two work together and the way this coffee shop is run without saying a lot. Second, this serves as the perfect in for Jeph to incorporate Dora into the main cast. From this point forward, Dora becomes a main secondary character, arguably a main character in her own right. The fact that she takes on a much more prominent role in this next batch of 50 comics and skyrockets to fourth-most frequent character is proof enough of that on its own, but we’ll touch on all that when we get to the data analysis at the end of this post.

Back with Marten, Steve is encouraging him to apologize to Faye. He offers a… novel solution to keep Marten from being the center of attention.

Seriously, the sheer, raw confidence on this guy alone is attractive as hell. And I’m only mildly ashamed to admit that to myself!

I hope you understand why I don’t need to explain why I should, nay, must provide this panel without any other context.

Same deal with this one.

And this comic puts me into hysterics every time I read it. I swear, this isn’t going to devolve into me just posting comics and saying “this is funny” or whatever. I just really, really like this progression of events right here. I wish we could see more of this Marten more often in modern QC – able to read a room quick enough to defuse the situation with absurdity or dry wit. It reminds us that, despite all evidence to the contrary, the boy does have a spine somewhere in that body.

And as immediate contrast, we jump here. This? This isn’t funny. This makes me not like Faye. This is actual abuse. And I know I talked about in the last post how including Faye retaliating against Marten physically and actually showing it happen in the comic rather than implying it with backfilling is the better method of storytelling but… Maybe it’s because she created a visible bruise, maybe it’s because of how candid she is about it, maybe it’s because of my own personal fucked-up past relationships (which admittedly never got physical but still), but this feels infinitely different than the Faye Jeph is trying to set up. He’ll have to do a damn good job in later comics to win me back to thinking Faye’s a likable character again.

Also Dora is definitely a woman of her word. I hope the coffee shop was empty right then. Actually, I hope it’s been a slow day from the point Faye started chasing her around with a dildo. Otherwise news might travel for all of the wrong reasons.

Faye tries to invite Dora over for festivities both as a friendly gesture because she expects her boss doesn’t get out much and because she wants to drag her from the dark abyss of Goth into the light of Hipster, only for her to turn the invitation down.

Not that it’s going to deter Faye, of course. Also, QC is in wide screen now. I have NO idea how that’s going to be represented on Tumblr considering how narrow my current theme at the time of writing is. Maybe I’ll change it, I dunno, I’m shit with this sort of thing. If you’re reading this and the page doesn’tlook like some faux notebook shit, I pulled myself together and fixed things. Go me.

Dora is being incredibly chill with this whole situation. Personally I’d be a hell of a lot more pissed. Although this does provide us with further insight to Faye’s character – someone who sees her next step, bulrushes her way towards it and has zero plans where to go after that until she arrives at her destination. She is aggressive and decisive, but to a fault as she doesn’t ever seem to really plan ahead. I’d say this makes her the perfect foil to Marten as someone who plans obsessively but never has the spine to go forward with anything but… Marten doesn’t really do much future-planning himself. He obsesses over little things and gets stuck in his own head, but he never really seems to look any further than maybe next week. Hm… I want all of us to keep this in mind for an offhand comment like, 500 or 600 comics from now. Trust me, it’ll make sense when we get to it.

And yet despite Faye’s self-assurance and aggressive nature, here she shows an outright refusal to accept or face the reality of the developing relationship between herself and Marten. Not just being coy, not just dancing around the issue, but straight-up not allowing herself to even consider what’s going down. Maybe I’m reading too much into this little exchange due to what I already know about her character, but this is an extremely unhealthy trait that speaks a lot to Faye’s character that she doesn’t want the world to see. We’ll be touching on this later.

I mostly like this comic for Marten and Pintsize’s reactions on the last panel. Marten makes a good straight man, and it’s not often we see Pintsize share that role either.

Faye you’re really not helping your case right now. Although it is interesting how hard Faye is showcases how into him Dora is, considering she has her own feelings for him and I highly doubt she’d be 100% cool with the two of them going off to make out.

So here we establish Anthro PCs relationships with humans – namely, they’re basically glorified pets. Pets that have human-level sapience. Don’t worry, Jeph comes to understand the unfortunate implications of this as well, and he goes on to change this in future comics. And by “change this” I mean “completely re-incorporate how AI works in this universe and establish QC as a near-future sci-fi setting.” But that’s not going to be for quite some time. For now, despite my poking fun at the horrific implications here, Jeph’s doing a good job taking the “funny robot sidekick” that’s supposed to be in every webcomic and creating proper lore behind it, making it feel like it belongs in this world rather than be used as a comic relief character and only a comic relief character.

Granted the Anthro PCs as a collective are going to be used as just comic relief right now but, y’know. Baby steps.

As said before, the fact that these guys are all fully sapient creatures makes the implications of this downright horrific. Also, that’s Ell. I have no idea if he ever comes back – I don’t remember him coming back at all – but I’m marking him down in the character statistics because he’s named.

This… actually has some interesting implications. Marten mentions needing Steve’s help with a date “the other day.” Does that mean he and Faye have known each other for an extremely short period of time? I highly doubt it, we’ve seen a number of times the time has moved from day to night, and the comic itself certainly implies at least a few weeks have passed. So unless by “the other day” Marten means “a month ago” then Marten has been dating women on the side while Faye’s been staying with him. That… seems extremely out of character for him considering the circumstances we’ve seen established in the comic thus far. Considering nothing else really comes from it and the fact if Marten was dating anyone on the side it would definitely be Dora, I’m going to go on the assumption Jeph simply made a mistake here and meant to say Marten was seeing someone a month or a few months back.

She’s cut off by Pintsize’s destructive laser that he’s using to assert himself as King among the Anthro PCs, don’t worry about it. What we should focus on instead is… well, this second panel here. On paper, this is really good. We’re getting some insight to Faye’s character here, the cracks in her mask are showing. We’re addressing the issue of her assaulting her friend and roommate, what she thinks about it, her current mindset and addressing that this is an actual problem. She’s openly apologizing, sincere in her conviction and clearly wants to fix things.

The problem with this is of course the fact that this is rushed as fuck.

Part of this, of course, has to be the fact that Jeph’s comic by nature is married to the structure of a four-panel comic. We have to set up Faye’s conversation, allow her to continue, but due to narrative convenience she needs to be cut off before she can finish what she’s saying. So the laser cuts her off and after the panel of action, we follow-up and end with the punchline of Pintsize having been made King among the Anthro PCs. And I get it – interrupt Faye before she can finish so you can keep the romantic ambiguity of “boys whom I…” Classic RomCom stuff. Problem is, this isn’t the time or place to do it. Keeping to the structure traps them into a situation where unfortunately Faye doesn’t have the breathing room to stretch this out and make it feel natural. This feels contrived from every angle and every sense of the word.

Easy way to fix this: Have this conversation take place while they’re walking home. Establish she feels bad, have her bounce off Marten and have this conversation naturally. Then either you can have Pintsize cut her off at the end there or maybe even she stops herself when she realizes she’s saying too much. There are ways to make this feel natural. This isn’t natural. Still, credit where it’s due, they’re at least touching on this topic here. Part of me wonders if Jeph had, like, a mental map of where he wanted Faye’s character to go but because he writes these page-by-page it ended up stumbling along and falling flat. A written outline of events can, and does, REALLY help in situations like this.

Then again I’m giving writing advice to a version of someone who existed fifteen years ago. I’m sure he’s got this all down himself nowadays, right?

Payoff to the previous comic.

Not only does this crack me up every time I read it, it also shows that Faye and Marten have gotten onto the same wavelength of humor. They’re also comfortable enough with each other that they can imply for a moment sexual favors before completely derailing the implication with the absurd. This is a far-cry from when Faye was trying to burn Marten with her mind back when Pintsize merely implied the two of them share a bed with each other.

Granted, it does kind of fly in the face of Faye’s reaction back at the LANPark. Still, good moment.

Speaking of Faye’s character…

Here we have Faye’s explanation for why she hides her southern accent. Makes sense.

And here, her explanation as to why she doesn’t use contractions… I’ve already said my piece on why I feel this makes zero sense, let’s move on.

And here we properly draw attention to Faye’s scar and establish the fact that her scar is a sore spot for her… was that a pun? It felt like a pun. Anyway, more and more it’s becoming clear that despite her outgoing nature, Faye has a LOT she keeps close to her chest.

Okay now I know that one was a pun, I’m sorry.

Point being, there’s a lot to Faye’s character we haven’t found out yet, plenty yet to explore in future comics. And I’d also like to point out, this? This is an extremely natural way to establish things about Faye, right here. This feels like something that would actually come up in a conversation rather than planted there for the sake of the audience, and I appreciate that. That said, this in conjunction with the last few moments makes this feel more like it’s time for Jeph to introduce and explain aspects of Faye’s character all at once, which deters a little bit from the natural feeling of this moment in particular. Or maybe I’m just being pedantic, I dunno. In a bubble, this comic works.

And here we get a flash of the personality we’ll see in Raven in the future. Just a spark though, the flame hasn’t risen up quite yet. Also a little detail about Dora that… again, doesn’t quite make sense given the timescale Jeph has established. I’ll touch on it later in this post when we find out exactly how old Dora is.

This… is an aspect of Marten’s personality that we never really touch on. Actually, this kind of goes toe-in-toe with his interest in Final Fantasy. Is Marten a fantasy buff? Does he enjoy escapist literature and media? Would he be super into Game of Thrones when it comes out as a series? These are questions that… unfortunately, don’t really get answered. I don’t know, I feel like these aspects of who Marten is ends up getting forgotten on the cutting room floor later on in the comic. Maybe they were only included as an off-handed joke, maybe Marten just developed as a character differently than what Jeph originally envisioned him as. Either way, these are parts of him that I think would be wonderful to bring back, especially with his current job and relationship in present-day coics.

Again, like a LOT of things I’m bringing up, we’ll get to that later.

In case you forgot that Faye is genuinely interested in Marten, a reminder and an assertion: She isn’t just interested in the skinny boy. She’s got it bad for him.

But, like a lot of things involving her personal life and feelings, she openly refutes them – not just to Dora but to herself.

Having gone out to give Dora a new look and indoctrinate her into the Cult of Hipster, Dora McPalerThanWhiteBread ends up sunburnt. Marten’s home, he has the lotion, we all know where this is going.

Heaven holds a place for those who pray… I wanted to follow this up with a clip of Sonic from Tails’ story in Sonic Adventure saying “hey hey hey” but surprisingly enough, that particular soundbite isn’t available anywhere. There are plenty of Let’s Plays that poke fun at it, but nothing with that line in particular.

Anyway, let’s talk about time frames. Dora said she got into the whole goth and coven stuff in High School and only now gotten bored of it. She’s 26. Let’s be EXTRA generous and assume she got into it in Senior Year, and she graduated at 18. That’s eight years this has been her life style, almost a third of her life. This wasn’t a phase, this was a genuine life style choice. Either Jeph got the timing wrong, or this is genuinely an identity crisis on Dora’s part because seriously, when something’s been a part of your life for so long I don’t blame you for not knowing where to go from there. I’m just surprised it took 8+ years for her to get sick of it. Then again, maybe that’s normal. I dunno, you can tell me if that’s a normal human thing. I’m literally autistic so I genuinely don’t know.

Setup… and also begging the question why you would give a libido to an AI, or how one would develop it naturally seeing as robots are incapable of sexual reproduction.

I haven’t really mentioned it until now, but Dora’s like aggressively bi. I can dig it. Guys and gals are both pretty in their own ways.

Ignore the lack of color for a second, Jeph wrote up this comic when he had like zero time and couldn’t color it in before he uploaded. Again, we have the HINT of something that Faye’s on the cusp of admitting that says more about her character only to be cut off once again. This feels a bit more natural than the situation at the LANPark. Still contrived by nature of Jeph introducing a conflict to purposefully cut her off, but an understandable narrative contrivance.

Also, remember when I mentioned the joke about the government level laser would come back as an actual plot point? Did you think I was joking? No, here we have Agent Turing (I can’t tell if that’s clever or if I should roll my eyes at this) here to take Pintsize in, dismantle him and take the dangerous laser back.

Faye takes it well.

Can you guess what consequences she suffers from assaulting a government agent? I’ll give you a hint – it’s about the same as the consequences she suffered from burning down an apartment.

Payoff.

And finally, we round off this batch of comics with Faye’s expert lying skills to fool Agent Turing…

Ah yes. The ever-deadly Space Owls. Not nearly as scary as Space Bears, though! They’re horrifying!

…not buying it? Yeah neither did my professors back in college.

As per usual, let’s compare a panel from the first and last comics in the batch to see how Jeph’s art style has improved.

It looks like he’s trying to get the proportions more… realistic? They’ve moved from “cartoons” to “cartoon versions of actual people” and it’s… eh, alright I guess? Personally I’m more of a fan of the more cartoon-ish style in the beginning of this batch, but beauty and eyes of beholders and all.

So overall, what did I think of this batch of comics? Personally, I think the humor is improving dramatically, this batch had the most comics that had me laughing aloud so far. And bringing Dora further into the limelight was a smart move on Jeph’s part – she’s just so likable, I want to see more of her. But as for the inter-personal conflicts… eh? It feels weaker than last batch. More is happening, progress is being made, but it feels… contrived. Artificial. It was the worst in the LANPark, but because that drew my eye I kept seeing every other piece of exposition as just that – exposition. Maybe I’m biased, I’ll fully admit that. I’ll also admit that the bit about Faye’s chest-scar was a well done piece of exposition without feeling like exposition.

I’ve said exposition way too much now, let’s move onto the stats (and for the record, Scarlet Manuka on the QC forums was kind enough to remind me that the name of Dora’s cat is Miéville, so while we haven’t been introduced to that name yet I’ll be using that in my stats from this point forward because it’s better than “Dora’s Cat”).

Faye: 47/50 – 94%

Marten: 41/50 – 82%

Dora: 31/50 – 62%

Pintsize: 18/50 – 36%

Turing: 3/50 – 6%

Steve: 2/50 – 4%

Raven: 2/50 – 4%

Ell: 1/50 – 2%

Grand Total:

Marten: 132/150 – 88%

Faye: 130/150 – 86.7%

Pintsize: 45/150 – 30%

Dora: 39/150 – 26%

Steve: 16/150 – 10.7%

Sara: 7/150 – 4.7%

Raven: 3/150 – 2%

Turing: 3/150 – 2%

Jim: 2/150 – 1.3%

Scott: 2/150 – 1.3%

Miéville: 1/150 – 0.7%

Ell: 1/150 – 0.7%

Faye is climbing up the ranks and getting closer to perfectly equal screentime with Marten across the whole series. Speaking of Faye, in this batch she pulled into first as the character in the most comics, the first time she’s been in more than Marten since the beginning. And Dora’s been in so many this last batch, she jumped up to fourth-most reoccurring character juuust behind Pintsize.

I’ll catch you next week for the epic conclusion to the Pintsize laser saga! And yet more insight on Faye’s past – hope you like ice cream! See you then.