#the only things that were wrong were the packaging (got them on amazon sorry i have a gift card and no source of income)

[aropride]

i have been checking every single aspect of the new 3m aura 1870s i got to make sure theyre not counterfeit and literally everything checks out there's nothing wrong with them at all . but theyre so easy to breathe through its unsettling. like are these just really breathable or is there something wrong that is completely flying under my radar.

[oopsimbug]

in which... y/n is just trying to put on eyeliner and harry is bored pt. two

a/n: when she’s back from a six month hiatus after making only ONE fic. wow, do i suck. for anyone who cares, school has been pretty rough. i’m actually procrastinating studying for an exam to finally upload this. it’s been pretty hard to balance both school and writing but oh well. anywho, here it finally is. it took so long to write because i wasn’t feeling very inspired by this. a lot of people asked for a part two and even though i kinda wanted to leave it on a sad note, i am a sucker for giving the people what they want, so sorry if this is a bit shit- i definitely don’t like this one myself. i guess i’m not one for fluffy endings. well, at least for this one i wasn’t. i really hope you enjoy it! more stuff to come, if school doesn’t mind fucking off for a little while (or maybe just forever?) xox -(a) bug

pairing: best friend! harry styles x reader

summary: Harry is worried about Y/n. Y/n is worried about Harry. Harry is solving it by thinking of ways to check on her, while Y/n uses cheesy pasta and the Fresh Prince of Bel Air as an excuse to not think. But what will happen when someone is at her door, and it’s not her delivery man?

warnings: angst, swearing, y/n and harry being idiotos, fluffy end, kissing

word count: 5.3k

It had been a week.

One gruelling, painfully long week.

Harry was biting his nails, staring up at the ceiling as he laid in his bed, worrying about her.

About how he fucked up.

He didn’t think that she would be upset for this long. He thought she would scream at him and then text him the following day, wanting to hang out- a silent “I forgive you”, he supposed.

But after two days of radio silence on her end, he decided to call her. The only problem was that her last words to him were “leave”. She wanted space. She needed to think things through- what things? Harry had no clue. But he had to respect her and her choice to not want him around. So with that, he put down the phone.

But a small part of him (okay fine, a big part of him), wanted her to just show up at his house so they could cuddle again, talking about the stupidest of things while they made cupcakes in his kitchen. They would be listening to groovy music and now and then, they’d stop mixing bowls and sifting flour to dance- well, they were horrible dancers, so more so just wave their hands, hips and shoulders around. It would be fun and would always end up with them laughing at one another. He would lick the batter and she would berate him, telling him that “one of these days, you are going to get salmonella and I’ll just laugh at your stupid ass” and he would retort with something witty and a bit flirty like “don’t worry darling, we both know you would be right at my side if I got sick. I know you can’t stand being apart from me” with a wink and a cheeky smirk. He just wants to see her in her oversized Space Jam hoodie and little basketball shorts. Or her short flower shirt and his sweatpants that she has to cuff at the bottoms because they’re too long. Or even-

He’s gotta stop thinking about her, or his brain will soon explode. But he just can’t stop. He tries to think of the happier moments, like her showing him a tour of her very healthy houseplants that she prides herself in, but every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is her teary face telling him to leave. So no, if he was given the choice to think of her flailing her arms around in his kitchen to dancehall tunes while making sweet treats or crying at something that he provoked, you bet your ass he’d choose the former.

But after the seventh day, he knew that something wasn’t right. This was too much “thinking time”. For all he knew, she could be fine, but she could also be positively bawling. She could be living for this free time, but she also could be waiting for him to make the first move. She could be wanting Harry out of her life for her benefit forever, but she also could be feeling lonely and counting the seconds for their makeup, just like he was.

That was it. He had to go see her and make sure his best friend was okay.

He practised what he was going to say to her in his car on the way to her apartment. “Y/n, I’m so sorry for how I acted. I didn’t stop to think about how you were feeling and didn’t take your emotions into account which was unbelievably wrong of me. I’m truly sorry. It’s just that I really care about you and you’re my best friend and I can’t see you choose a tinder fuck over me and if I saw him in the street I would knock his lights out and I just want to kiss you, can I kiss you, oh god please let me kiss you I just want to-“

Fuck, what was wrong with him? Why was he so upset? He had been on plenty of dates with other celebrities and models and she was always on the sidelines, cheering him on. So why was he getting so touchy-feely about a single tinder date? Maybe he was just in desperate need of attention. He hadn’t had a girlfriend for almost one year and casual fuck arounds also stopped about four months ago, so maybe he just needed to fuck someone quick. That would explain why he sees his best friend’s kindness and natural flirty nature as something more romantic. Every laugh at his jokes, every look in her eyes, every graze of her hand on his thighs as she leans over him to get her drink on the side table next to him, he becomes more switched on and awake. She leaves him feeling giddy and excited at every conversation. “This can’t just be because I’m horny right?” he cannot believe he would ever be that horny. What the hell was he going to do?

*

This is pathetic she thought.

I’m pathetic.

She let out a huge sigh before shoving another forkful of cheesy pasta into her mouth.

What am I doing?

The answer?

Eating carbs upon carbs upon carbs, lounging on her comfy sofa in the most comfortable, yet daggiest pair of pyjamas ever while watching reruns of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air for the fiftieth time, actively avoiding all commitments, housework and jobs that involve moving further than to the kitchen, which even then was an embarrassingly burdening trek on its own.

But she let it slide. How could she not? She was upset and this was how she coped. That’s what she kept reminding herself as she boiled more and more pasta watching the days pass her by without realisation, but now, she’s beginning to question if this was the best idea. Pushing all thoughts of him out of her mind by not looking at her phone just in case he called or texted. But she was beginning to struggle.

It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know what inner turmoil she was facing. He seemed genuinely hurt when she snapped at him. He truly didn’t understand why she took so much offence to the playground ribbing, it seemed. And she had to go be a dick and ignore him. He was probably worried sick. How many times would he have called to check up on her? 10? 15? The more she thought about it, the more she wanted this stupid feud to be over and just be in his arms again, even if it’s just as a friend. So she caved. Turned on her phone, expecting there to be at least a call or a text asking if she was still alive or not. And although she did receive a message of that likeness, it wasn’t from Harry, no. It was from her daily water tracking app, pleading her to fill in her daily intake of water so as to not die of dehydration after she was suspected to have not drunk any for the entire week when in reality, she was just too in her head to open her stupid phone and log her water.

Wow, she thought.

Now not only has Harry chosen to not speak to you, but you also look like a huge idiot right now. Of course, he wouldn’t want to talk to you! You got pissed at him for absolutely no reason and now he hates you. He’s gonna ask for his cardigan and track pants that he keeps at your house in case he wanted to sleepover. He’s going to take back all of his little knick-knacks that he leaves over, like the cute diffuser that he leaves because he knows you need it for your constant hay-fever that blocks your nose and then he’s going to declare that you aren’t friends anymore and then you will never get the chance to tell him how you feel and then-

Her panicky brooding is interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Who the hell could that be?”, she thinks. It was too late for it to be the postman with her package containing her entire Amazon wish list that she bought on the third day of mourning to make herself feel better. But it couldn’t be Mrs Xiao asking her if she had any holes in her shirts that needed stitching. The sweet old lady fell asleep at 8:37 pm sharp after her medicine that she’d take at 8:30 pm would kick in (which she learnt after spending nights over at her apartment where her niece, Mei, took care of her. Y/n would learn traditional recipes like baozi and watch movies with her two friends all the time). It couldn’t be Mei either, she was always in online uni lectures from 8:30-10:30 pm, locked away in her little study, so as to not bother or be bothered. So now, a little panicked, Y/n wondered who was truly at her door?

Another two knocks come, echoing off the walls of her little apartment as she turns down the volume of the program she was watching. She stares at the door from her couch, debating whether she should risk getting stabbed by a possible murderer or not, before ultimately deciding that life was too short. She was also getting sick and tired of the knocks that kept arriving in threes. She swings her legs off the couch and onto the floor, pushing them into her slippers so that her feet wouldn’t touch the cold floor, waddling her way to the door before shyly opening it, peeking at who it could be through the tiny crack in the opening, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t mind her current state: belly filled with pasta, hair knotty, giant shirt with sweatpants on and Harry’s patchwork cardigan hanging off her shoulders- which she had been wearing all day, cherishing the pretty piece of clothing and his scent imbedded in it, taking it all in just in case he asks for it back. She peeps at the torso of this mystery person, realising that Harry owns the jumper worn by them, before looking up and locking eyes with a worn out and tired eyed Harry, one hand in the pocket of the familiar hoodie and another extended out near the door, ready to knock again before freezing when it opens up all the way to show herself to her best friend. He doesn’t eye her up and down cheekily like he normally does when she is wearing pyjamas, wolf-whistling at her relaxed state, claiming that “You look runway-ready, my love! Do a twirl for the crowd, will you?”. Instead, he stares her right in the eyes with what looks like almost relief, before smiling a weak and broken smile.

One of them needed to break the silence or both would have just stared at each other in her doorway until the world exploded. So she starts.

“Hi.” her voice hovers a tinge above a whisper, almost as though if she dared to speak louder, this probable illusion of the one she loves would fade away. He lights up a little bit, probably relieved that she started the conversation.

“Hey,” his soft voice matched her volume and tone as if he too didn’t want this to be a dream. “May I come in?” The words sound awkward to her coming out of his mouth. Harry never had to ask for permission to be invited in- he usually just strolled in without so much as a holler to indicate he was present, finding amusement in scaring her instead while she was doing whatever she was doing, whether that be reading, watching a movie, cooking or napping. They were the best of friends and never had to inquire about entry to each other’s domains, along with other small things like if they had anything in their kitchens to eat or if they could sit somewhere, so hearing it was a little disheartening and provoked Y/n to think about how serious this situation was.

“Okay”, she replied after the pause of contemplation, opening the door fully so that the lanky boy could follow along behind her, like a little puppy. She didn’t like how awkward the situation was. She just wanted things to go back to what they were.

But then you wouldn’t be able to tell him you love him... her inner voice argued. And she agreed. She knew that yes, this will be awkward, but it’s an opportunity for him to listen to her and know that she isn’t joking.

“Would you like some tea?” She enquires. They’ll need to handle this like proper grown-ups (which in all honesty, isn’t their dynamic- it’s more like first-year uni students who are mature enough to have deep conversations but still laugh at dad jokes and anything remotely serious, like a painting with boobs), and from what she knows, or has seen in movies when the characters are being serious, is that you need tea or a drink of that sort and a sit down on the couch where you talk stuff out. So that’s exactly what she does.

“Yes please,” Harry’s soft voice replies as he toes off his boots that most definitely cost more than her apartment. Y/n nods and heads to the small kitchenette and flips the switch on the electric kettle before going into her cupboard that housed the mugs. Harry stood awkwardly near the sofas, and to save him the embarrassment of waiting while standing, Y/n invites him to sit with a small, “You can take a seat,” and a quick glance at him before returning her gaze to the mugs to make herself look busy. She didn’t want to look him in the eyes for more than three seconds in fear of bursting into tears and the worn out and tired sight of him. She shakes the thought out of her head and begins to prepare the mugs.

Y/n put two teabags in her mug while putting one in Harry’s. She was raised in a household of avid tea drinkers and she inherited her strong tea quirk from her father who would always keep two teabags with only a dash of milk, and the only difference between her tea and her fathers was that Y/n wasn’t strong enough to take her tea without sugar, unlike her father, who thought that drinking unbelievably concentrated leaf juice with milk was a fun and relaxing time. On the other hand, Harry liked to keep one tea bag in his mug while he drank it, but just like her father, he too took little to no sugar with his cup, being the health freak he was. And early in their friendship, when she mentioned it to him, Harry chuckled and chirped, “Your father is a smart man. He has to be for raising amazing and talented people like your siblings. I’m not sure what went wrong with you though...” while booping her nose as they laid together under a tree for a little picnic. And though she rolled her eyes at him and punched his shoulder for the sly dig at her, she was practically beaming at the fact that he thought her family was smart. Harry had no idea how much that meant to her. Y/n loved her entire family, and she was unbelievably close to them, so it made her entire week to know that Harry, someone she respected and loved so much, recognised how talented and smart each of her family members were. Don’t get her wrong, she didn’t need the validation to know that her family was amazing, but she felt so special knowing he took the time to notice. He did that a lot though. Doing things that meant a lot to her without batting an eye. Saying things that only a person as observant as he could notice, like complimenting her eye colour in the light and asking her to read for him because he constantly mentions how much he loves her voice.

Y/n looked over to the same sweet guy she fell head over heels for, who was sitting on her couch, fidgety as ever, and wondered if they would ever be the same after the very next moments to come. She didn’t want things to change between them, but she was dying inside knowing that he wasn’t hers. And getting over him was not in the question, after the fiasco that happened last week. She just wished she could get inside his head to sate her painful curiosity.

What is he thinking about?

**

What is she thinking about?

It’s the million-dollar question running through his mind. What was she pondering over as she made them tea? Did she want to talk to him? Was she mad that it took him so long to find the balls to face her? Was she as nervous as he was? Was she worried that they would never be the same again like he was?

He was going into panic mode, questioning everything, while probably looking stupid as ever. As much as he regretted how awkward things were now, and the fact that he instigated her to lash out at him a week ago, he was realising that he was not regretting the fact that he did it. He didn’t want her to go out with someone else, and she didn’t. And yes, of course, he feels bad-beyond bad, in fact- for making her cry, and wishes he could take it all back, he also sees this as an opportunity to tell her how he feels about her. He could finally tell her that he thinks about her all the time. About her soft smile, her bright eyes, her melodic laugh, her speaking voice that brings butterflies to his stomach. He could tell her about how he loses himself at work, the grocery store, fuck- even at events- thinking about what she was doing at her house. Was she under her blankets on her couch, watching some corny tv show? Was she baking her signature choc chip cookies that taste like the gods blessed every single biscuit on the tray before they were put in the oven? Was she knitting her cat, Chesnut, another rug to plonk herself down on, with her feet up on the ottoman as she listened to the 7 o’clock news on the radio? Was she writing a paper for another deadline? Something so sophisticated, like the exploration of white and male privilege and how it is ingrained in our society? Something that Harry tried to understand and research so that he could stay in the loop with his smart girl’s interests, but he always struggled with.

It was a huge insecurity of his. Not that his best friend was smarter than he was, no way. He treasured the fact that she could and would whip his ass at a debate on things like the state of the world, or human rights. She could school him on global politics, languages, maths, science, history and literally anything else, and he would be cheering her on. What he was insecure about was her realising that he was probably slowing her down in life. Y/n was well within her rights to kick him out of her life for being nothing but a freeloader and stopping her from reaching her full potential, what with him constantly stopping her from her own life to help him go through shit happening in his. Whenever he was sad, or confused, or upset, Y/n was the first person he would talk to and he feared that she would realise that he was probably taking advantage of her and stop talking to him. And that scared him. It scared him because he knew that she didn't need him at all, but he needed her to do anything in life. Every major and minor decision in his life has been approved by Y/n first, and not because she was a controlling friend who didn’t trust him with his own life, but because Harry needed her validation. Harry Styles, a world-famous superstar, had girls, guys and non-binaries at his feet, following his every beck and call. Harry Styles, who was on the cover of every magazine, known by every celebrity, dated only the most perfect of women, required validation from Y/n, a psychology major at a small university. Y/n, who liked to plan her day out on a to-do list, end up not doing anything on that to-do list and cry about it afterwards. Y/n, who breaks it down to “Murder She Wrote” by Chaka Demus & Pliers like it’s her last 4 minutes and 5 seconds alive on this Earth while making pancakes. Y/n, who cries more when she’s laughing while watching Tik Toks than she does during sad movies.

To celebrities, Y/n was nothing but a regular. But to Harry, she was all. She was the warmth of a sweater that you toss in the dryer for a few minutes to make it extra toasty. She was the pad of butter that you spread onto your pumpkin sourdough toast and it ends up being exactly the amount you wanted. She was the feeling when you are driving home from a long day of interviews and premiers, and you’re on the freeway and the windows down and you just… exist. She is the feeling you get when you watch Pride and Prejudice, and the relief of when you find the perfect word to end a lyric. She is when your shoes fit perfectly, and when you finish a book so utterly fulfilling that you lie there in a trance, looking up at your ceiling at 3 am, wondering how you could have been so lucky to be able to be blessed with an ending like the one you just read. Y/n was all those things and more.

And that’s why he had to tell her he loved her. No matter how scared he was.

***

The electric kettle is finished boiling the tea all too quickly as the bubbling comes to an end and the distinct click of the switch turning back off echoes around the silent apartment. Y/n had poured the scalding hot water into the two cups she had prepared stared into them.

It was time. She had tried to avoid this for as long as possible, but now it was the moment to face the music. She picked up the two mugs of tea and brought them to her lounge where Harry was sitting on her worn in green sofa, staring at her coffee table, eyebrows scrunched, pouted lips, deep in thought, before looking up at her with wide green eyes, and followed her to where she stood in front of him. She passed his mug to him before sitting on the comfy chair a few feet away from the sofa and from him, putting some distance in between them for her sake, so that she wouldn’t try to hug him and say sorry without saying what she needed to say first. Which she needed to start talking about now, so as not to sit in the awkward silence created by the two.

Say something!!

“So…’

Jesus fuck…. was that all you could think of? Wow. I am going to lose my best friend.

Y/n was choking.

“I am so sorry,” Harry’s voice intercepts, raspy from the lack of use, looking up from the coffee table he seemed so interested in. “I am so fucking sorry Y/n. I have no excuse as to why I was making fun of you that day. I pushed too far and I am a shit friend for not noticing that you were already on edge. It was so wrong of me and I am so sorry.” He stopped himself before he started to ramble, looking at her with eyes filled with an emotion she couldn’t decipher.

Y/n felt… unsatisfied. Why did she feel this way? He apologised, right? So why does she feel unfulfilled? Why does she want him to say more? He hit all of the points he had to for a standard apology, so why did she think he hadn’t done enough? Was it that little optimist in her brain hoping he would maybe reveal a slight attraction to her? Maybe tell her that he loves her, and has loved her forever and ever? Confess that she has bewitched him, body and soul so that she didn’t have to? God, was she an idiot. But a lovestruck idiot at that. She bites her tongue and replies.

“Harry, I forgive you. Although you were annoying as ever,” She rolls her eyes and smirks, while he lets out a breathy, half-assed chuckle, showing his acknowledgement at her attempt to ease the lowered yet still prevalent tension. She continues. “ I understand that you were just trying to have fun. I guess I was the one who irrationally lashed out . I am always okay with you poking fun at me, but I was just frustrated and tired and I took it out on you. I’m sorry for the improper communication and I’m sorry for pushing you away when we should’ve just talked…”

“I forgive you too. I think this was just miscommunication on both parts.” He stared into her eyes, almost as if he could sense the discontent in her, but chose to ignore it.

“I guess so.” She halfheartedly answered, not really knowing where to take the conversation next. They had both apologised, but evidently still had things to say. Well, Y/n had things to say, that’s for sure, but she was pretty sure that Harry wanted to say something too. He had that look on his face where he wanted to say something but was forcing himself not to.

What does he want to say? Why can’t he say it to my face? I mean, sure, I’m also hiding shit I wanna say, but I have an excuse. This could ruin our friendship. What does he have to say?

“Great,” Harry replies, trying to fill the awkward pauses and conversation that is being held. He still looked like he had something to say, but seemed like he was not budging.

Well, if he’s not saying anything, I’m not either. Why do I have to confess my feelings and put our friendship on the line if he isn’t even going to say what’s on his mind?

“So, are we good?”

“I don’t know. Are we? I mean, I forgive you and you forgive me, right?”

“Right… No yeah, we’re alright. We’re completely fine!” Y/n replies quickly. Why the fuck would you say that? You’re not fine.

There is a pregnant pause and Y/n has half a better mind to just get up, walk to the bathroom again with her head down and lock herself in there till he leaves again, because she cannot take this awkward conversation. Not with him. She shifts, ready to stand up to get some water, when Harry looks at her, confusion and slight panic setting into his face.

“Wait. I don’t think I’m fine…” She looks up at the boy sitting in front of her, reading the words from her mind like they were scribed on a piece of paper in the blackest of ink, permanent and bold. Her heart stuttered. What else did he want?

“Is everything okay, H?” she tentatively asks. He loses eye contact with her, gaze lowering towards the table in front of him

“I-” he pauses, trying to collect his thoughts while simultaneously trying to explain to her why he wasn’t okay. “I just- fuck” his head falls down, his face inches away from the hot tea in his hands, the humid steam billowing out of the mug and warming his elegant face as he takes a deep breath and tries once more to convey his thoughts. “I don’t want us to be friends again.”

Her heart stops. This could go one of two ways. He could either be confessing his hatred or his adoration for her, and either one would probably end with her imploding. She tries to take a neutral tone when she replies.

“What does that mean, H?”

He looks at her once more. “It’s not enough, Y/n... “

“What?” She is confused. Her friendship isn’t enough? How is she supposed to reply to that?

“I want more. I don’t want us to just be friends. I want to be more with you. I want to do more with you. I want to do things that friends… they shouldn’t do together…”

Is he trying to confess he likes her? Why, in all the ways you could speak, would he choose to speak like that?! She has had enough of him dawdling around his feelings. “Harry, stop being cryptic and fucking tell me what’s going on?!”

“I love you, Y/n! I fucking love you, Y/n. So much. And it is eating me from the inside out. I hate that we can’t be normal anymore, and I hate that you don’t love me the way I love you, but I cannot sit here and pretend everything is fine, because I love you.”

Y/n is stunned. Frozen in her spot. Can’t move, can’t speak, can’t breathe. Stuck in space, and stuck in time.

Holy fucking shit… he loves me…

While Y/n processes the life changing knowledge that her best friend loves her, her best friend conveniently sits next to her, wishing that he was dead for the letdown he was about to receive.

“Say something… please, for the love of God, say something!”

****

She looks up at Harry. Not Harry Styles, playboy, whore, singer, millionaire, but instead; Harry, her best friend of five years, reddened face out of embarrassment. She sees the mortality in his eyes. Feels his presence so heavily in the moment. She is in awe. True awe of him, and his ability to love her. And with that awe- and that stupid look on her face, she reaches up and cradles his face in her hands, brushing her thumbs softly over his plush pink lips. He stands just as still as her, barely breathing, as if it would shatter the fantasy to stardust and he would wake up in his bed, cold shivers running down his spine, as has happened previously whenever he thought of this moment, staring up at his ceiling at 3:40AM wondering why he thought of his best friend in such a way. She creeped closer to his face before stopping a breath away from him, and whispered.

“Is this okay?”

She looked into his eyes, and he looked into hers, both never feeling so alive before. He wishes to tell her that she needn’t ask for his permission, and that he wants to kiss her forever. Eternally locked in an embrace that holds their souls together. But all he can muster is a weak and broken whisper back.

“Please,”

She can hold it for no longer, and leans in the rest of the way, their lips moulding together, for the very first time, eyes fluttering close, as his hands reach to grab her by the hips to straddle him, deepening the kiss even further. And when they part for breath, panting for air with slightly moist lips, they touch foreheads, eyes still closed. Words needn’t be exchanged- everything that yearned to be said was useless, as it could never describe how they truly felt for each other. So hopelessly besotted with one another, that all they could do was breathe together before kissing once more, hoping that their actions could provide even an iota of an idea of how much they love one another.

Two best friends, turned lovers forevermore.

[wowcool808]

Obey Me-A Midnight Encounter Pt. 1-Older Brothers

This is a scenario I made about the brothers stumbling across the MC while they are getting water. I really figured it would be easier to divide the brothers’ experience, so I’ll post the last part with the younger brothers as soon as I finish it. I hope you enjoy!

To set the scene, MC is laying in their bed, staring up at the ceiling. They have been awake longer than they would like, and they don’t know what to do to lull themselves back asleep. After thinking for a while, they finally decide to just get some melatonin. Seems like a smart thing to do first, but it was all the way in the bathroom, which seemed like a mile away in the mellow darkness. MC grabs the suggested amount, and starts to move downstairs to get a drink of water to wash it down. Creeping around in an oversized, cat onesie, MC enters the kitchen and quietly reaches for the cup, when... 

Luci-

Luci came into the kitchen to check to make sure Beel hadn’t eaten all the food in the fridge, when he saw a figure standing in front of the sink. The soft moonlight and the digital clock light on the oven illuminated their body, showing that the figure was in a large, black onesie. Originally, he thought that it was Belphie, since he was the only one that had ever worn a onesie in the house. But, that’s just because MC was always shy in theirs, and prefered to keep their warm and fluffy habits in their own room. He realized that Belphie wouldn’t be up from out of his bed at all at this time, or at all, for that matter, so he was kind of confused. He approached slowly, arms crossed. 

His suspicions were answered as MC quickly turned around to look behind them after hearing movement. He saw their shadowy face lit by the window next to them, and saw that it was in fact MC who was wearing the onesie. He cracked a smile and shook his head as he walked over to them. “I didn’t know kittens were able to stand up and use the sink.” he said. “Haha, very funny” MC said, trying to hide the fact they're overly embarrassed from being caught in less-than-favorable attire.

Luci walked over to the fridge and opened it up. “Looks like Beel hasn’t gotten to the fridge yet, that’s good.” MC nods and quietly pours themselves a glass of water. They put the pill in their mouth, and gulped the water down, satisfying their throat.

“Why’re you up so late, you have classes tomorrow.” Luci said, closing the fridge. His large figure towers over MC.

“Well, I couldn’t fall asleep, so I decided to take some melatonin and water.”

“Ah, I see. Well, hopefully it works, then.” 

He looked out the window, the big, silver lined moon lighting up his face. His tired yet stubborn disposition almost looked beautiful from this angle. MC can’t help but stand there in awe, looking at him. Luci shifted his body and noticed MC looking at him. Of course, MC looked away, but it was too late. He laughed and cocked his head “What?” he asked teasingly. MC shook their head and turned away. ‘Great now what?’ they think, regretting their actions.

Luci chuckled and leaned against a counter. He raised an eyebrow and said to MC “Well, if you’re not answering me, I presume you should at least head to bed now?” MC nodded and headed to their room. They took a last look at Luci and said 

“Goodnight Luci.”

“Goodnight, kitty” He says, with a slightly mocking tone.

MC rolled their eyes and headed upstairs. Luci watched them leave to their room, and looked at the cup MC drank out of on the counter. He takes it, looks at it, and lets out a small laugh. After putting the cup in the sink, he slowly starts to slink back to his room.

Mammon-

Mammon had crept downstairs to see if there were any new Akuzon (Amazon) packages. Not because he ordered anything, but because he wanted to check to see if there were any packages with anything valuable in them. And since Levi spends all of his money on merchandise and games, it was almost guaranteed.

He  was searching through a rather large box, when he heard something in

the kitchen, so he hesitantly crept into it. Poking his head around the corner, he saw a large, black figure next to the sink, rummaging through the cupboards. He freaked out as he assumed this random figure in no shoes somehow got through the high-security of the house to search the cup and bowl cabinets. Sorry Mammon, you sweet, tsundere dumbass, you’re the only thief in this house!

Mammon prepared himself for the encounter by creeping up behind them,

momentum building in his drawn fist. But, he made one fatal mistake. The poor boy was unlucky and stepped on a creaking floor board. MC turns around abruptly after hearing the sound, and saw Mammon there, standing like a dork with his fist drawn

Engulfed in his own swirl of emotions, and Mammon is not able to even realize who’s in front of him. ‘It’s now or never’ he thinks as he lunges forward, putting his weight in the punch.

Of course, MC saw this coming (since he was standing there for a half a second looking like a deer in the headlights) and ducked their head immediately, causing Mammon to fall forward with his weight. 

Because of the hand he used, he fell forward to the right, colliding with MC’s ducked form. He accidentally pushes them into the counter, and then to the floor. They had ended up on the floor, facing each other about a foot apart.

Groaning on the ground, Mammon turns to see MC facial features illuminated in the moonlight, and he jumps up.

“W-what are you doing up this late, MC?” He asks quickly

“I just needed to get some water” they say, rubbing their head.

“Why are you dressed like that!? In pitch black clothing? I thought you were some guy breaking in!”

“They’re my pajamas, Mammon, stop over thinking everything.” MC says, smiling.

“I’m not the one that dodged my attack and made me fall over.” He says in a whiny voice.

“Well, you didn’t dodge yourself, but you fell on your own.”

Mammon sighed and put his hands on his hips. “Ugh, some humans” (I know he’s a human in this world, but I still like the idea of him calling MC “one of those humans”) “Well, do you need help up?” He said, offering a hand.

MC nodded and grabbed his hand. “Thanks, Mammon”

Mammon pulls MC up and brushes his hands on his pants. “Yeah, well I only did it to be nice, I’m not making it a habit.”

“Whatever you say, Mammon.” MC says as they grab their drink and walk away. 

Levi-

Levi crept down the stairs silently, avoiding making any sound whatsoever. He wanted to catch Mammon in the act, and he couldn’t alarm him whatsoever. Well, he wasn’t sure Mammon was there, but Levi had ordered a surplus of packages that day, so he was determined to make sure they were okay. As he looked over at the front doors, he counted eleven packages, which was the exact amount he ordered. Figuring he needed a pair of scissors to open them, he walked into the kitchen to check the supply drawer. 

He turned the light on and looked through the drawers. He pulled out wrenches, screwdrivers, pens, and an assortment of related tools, but no scissors. He had pulled out a suspicious, hand made tool with multiple knives attached to it, when he saw something in the corner of his eye. He whipped around and jumped in shock. MC was standing near him in a large cat onesie, staring at him with a curious expression.

“What are you doing, Levi?” they asked, staring at the odd tool.

“I- uh- Er-” Levi stuttered. He wanted to answer, but he couldn’t. They just looked so… Moe that he couldn’t stand it. Why did he just find out MC had a giant, black kitten onesie? Well, obviously, MC was shy enough to keep it hidden, so it makes sense as to why he hasn’t seen it before. He would’ve probably done the same thing if he bought one.

MC had been staring at Levi’s stuttering, flushed self for a good thirty seconds. “What?” They say, raising their eyebrow in a taunting manner. 

“Um, Y-you just...You’re wearing...” He said trailing off.

“O-Oh! Right…” MC said, looking down at themselves embarrassed. “I got this a while ago, back home, but I always wore it in my room here, since it seems too childish to wear it around anyone else. Though, I much rather you see me in a onesie than anyone else. Uh- wait, that came out wrong, sorry”

Levi blinked and slowly started regaining his senses, ignoring the accidental insult. MC looked at the tool in his hand and asked what it was for.

“O-oh, right. I was just looking at this one, whatever it is. But, I originally came here to grab scissors for my Amazon packages. Though, I guess this weird contraption will work as well.” He says, pocketing the various knives. MC helped Levi put all the supplies back, and MC moved to grab a glass of water.

“Is that what you came for?” Levi asks, probably just to make up for the silence.

“Yeah, well, I wanted to take melatonin to help fall asleep, so I needed water.”

“Oh wait, you need help falling asleep?”

“Yeah, I’ve had pretty bad insomnia since I was young, and I guess it just kind of gotten worse over the years.”

“Oh, well, I just got this new serum I found on Amazon. It’s called Hazydew Softsyrup, and you just need to add it to tea to get the full effect. I got it for myself, since the blue light from my PC keeps me awake for a while, but you can use it for the night. I can order another bottle tomorrow too if you want.”

MC’s face lifted and they smiled. “Really? You would actually give me a bottle of that syrup?”

“I mean, sure, if you want it.” Levi says, looking down.

“Yes please, that would be awesome. Thanks.” MC said, releasing a sigh of relief.

“Y-yeah, no problem.” He said, moving towards the front room. MC followed him, and took the bottle eagerly when Levi offered. But, when MC took the bottle, instead of leaving, they linger there hesitantly. After a moment, they lean in towards Levi and kisses him gently on the cheek. Levi blinked, and stared blankly. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

MC smirked “What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?”

[karimac]

…in the details, Part 3

A/N: Warning for this series: 18+ audience (minors DNI), some cinematic level violence, some fluff and angst. Doubt that smut will be involved, but it may be implied. I’ll make sure that is noted clearly if it pops up.

All relationships, at this point anyway, are platonic.

Please do not repost or translate my work. Likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

A bit about the OC Kari

Part 1

Part 2

All mistakes are my own.

Word count: 3,556

Well, that was not exactly the best idea, was it?

Dr. Darcy Lewis, unlike her colleague, Dr. Erik Selvig, was not a big fan nor an authority on any form of mythology. And the Irish history ask was a longshot at best.

So, here you were, in the coffee shop smack dab in the middle of Westview, talking to Dr. Lewis and getting nowhere fast.

“And, that’s not happening,” the astrophysicist grumbled as she set down her phone and took another sip of her beverage. It was some weirdly sweet concoction that looked like what humans thought rainbow-colored unicorn poop looked like. This world was not ready for what real magical beasts looked like. Most authors had not gotten all of that right in their books. No surprise there. No human really needed to see such things on a daily basis, and whoever had been the muses for those authors had covered up a lot.

“I take it Dr. Selvig has no clue on the Celtic Pantheon?” you asked as you sipped your very boring, light, non-sweet hot coffee. The barista probably wanted to laugh when you ordered it, but he did his best to stifle his snicker. “It was a very long reach on my part, Dr. Lewis. I’m sorry I roped you into this.”

“You can call me Darcy because you actually acknowledge my academic status,” the brunette said as she flipped her phone over again. “So, Thor is off in space. You don’t want me calling Falcon or his pal with the metal arm. Captain Marvel isn’t on your contact list. Ant Man and The Wasp? They can be sort of science geeks, right? Wait. Banner? Is he OK to call?”

Before you could open your mouth, Darcy was texting Banner off her own phone. “You know Bruce?”

“I met him at some meet and greet at MIT before the world went poof,” Darcy replied as she set her phone back down and seemed to be praying Banner would actually return her text. “Stark was there, too, but Banner was the one I got coffee with. Sweet guy, you know, even if he gets all green sometimes.”

As you sipped your coffee, you noticed a few people giving you odd looks. It made you very nervous. “Maybe we should finish up and get back on the road?” you asked Darcy as you quietly motioned toward the other patrons getting their daily fix of caffeine.

“Yeah, bubbe isn’t answering me anyway,” Darcy said as she picked up her phone and got up from her chair. By now there were several residents blocking the exit. “What is your problem? We paid. We’re busing our table. Then we’re leaving.”

“Are The Avengers going to hunt her down?” one woman in the back of the group asked as Darcy looked back toward you and mouthed the word “Help” before turning back to the crowd. The questioner was loud, but you couldn’t see her because of the big delivery man standing in front of her with a huge pile of Amazon packages. “Why did you come back?”

It was time to vamp. With an apparently faulty memory, this was going to be interesting.

“Before you all ask about what is going to happen regarding Wanda Maximoff, I want you all to know I have no authority to speak for The Avengers. I have never been a true member of the team. I helped them at a time when things were beyond bleak for this world. It was an honor and a privilege. But I am not a spokesperson. I am not a team leader.”

“Then why did you come here?” a man with glasses, holding a briefcase, asked from the line where he was waiting for his order. “Then and now?”

“I came the first time because I was looking for my friend. I was pulled into that nightmare just like you were. I wish I had been able to help her before any of this happened.”

“But you have powers, right? Couldn’t you have shut her down, hot stuff?” the first woman added as she moved to the front. Then you recognized her. Agatha Harkness. If Wanda kept her alive, there was a reason for it, and all the pain you had rising in your core had to be tamped down fast. Harkness had hurt Wanda, and that would have to be addressed one day. You were good at playing the long game.

“Taking her out in any sort of power stunt could have jeopardized your lives. I was not sure what she did to make it all happen, and I was not going to risk your lives. I’m sorry it wasn’t put to an end sooner. Now, if you will excuse us, we need to get to a meeting regarding the incident here,” you said as you and Darcy pushed through the crowd and back out to the street.

“OK, what was all that? Spin? Or are you remembering something?” Darcy asked as you got back into her car. You had left your rental on the outskirts of town. Better to travel as a unit until your business here was concluded.

“I remember a couple of things from that mess,” you said as you tried to keep your hands from shaking. “I remember Wanda and Vision’s sons. Billy and Tommy. I remember the house where I lived. Can we drive out to where Wanda had her house? Maybe that will help?”

Darcy pulled out of the parking space and made the lefts and rights to the lot where Wanda’s house had been. The one you were living in was in a lot right next to it. It was empty now, too, but you got out of the car anyway and stood in the center of the patch of dirt. You closed your eyes and held your breath as you tried to piece together what had happened. And then you started to cry as you fell to your knees.

“Whoa, slow down,” Darcy said as she ran and knelt beside you. “What did you see?”

“It’s weird. Wanda came over one day and more or less apologized to me because she couldn’t give me my real happy ending. I can show you, if you’ll let me…”

“Go into my mind?” Darcy protested before you could wave her off the idea. “No Vulcan mind melds for me today, thanks.”

“No, I carry this mirror, and you can see memories in it. Trust me, I do not use telepathy as a first line of anything. I tried it once, to help a friend, but it just caused more problems,” you groaned as you pulled the mirror out of your backpack. You waved your hand over it, and Darcy could now see what had happened with Wanda.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t find them and bring them here,” the Sokovian said quietly as she walked around the 1980s version of what was your living room. It was way too pastel for your liking, but the hints of fuchsia, orchid and teal in the overall cream and light gray design weren’t so bad. You had a couple of cats there with you. One was an orange tabby with a penchant for eating tuna at any given moment. He was warm and affectionate and just a ray of sunshine dressed in fur. The other was as white as the driven snow, but his own cuddly disposition came through. He was the one who would leave you weird gifts every morning. Rocks, feathers, and yes, the occasional dead mouse would be at the foot of your bed each sunrise. You’d find out at the end of that nightmare that the cats were only constructs of Wanda’s chaos magic.

“I know you miss the three of them,” she continued as she pointed to a framed picture of Steve, Bucky and Sam, all decked out in appropriate 1980s clothes that made them look like they ran away from some cop drama. “It’s probably better that there aren’t too many Avengers here anyway. Vis is getting concerned. And this way, well, no one needs to know which one you would have chosen. I know. You know. So you can always talk to me. Like we did before. But I gave you the wedding ring to make sure no one came on to you. Just in case I can get him here soon.”

As you showed Darcy the memory, a tiny part of you was screaming that this whole scenario seemed wrong. You watched Wanda’s crimson glow float around you as she spoke. You vaguely remembered The Morrigan trying to kick some sense back into your addled brain, but Wanda’s world was much too enticing to let your other self come to the fore. You wanted the damned happily ever after with the husband and the house and everything that meant in the modern American ethos. You had rationalized things for years in such a way that you’d never let yourself get it. That was why no one was here to hug you at night like Wanda had Vision. Maybe that fact alone was enough to crack Wanda’s hold on you a bit more than she realized?

But you also had to admit that you wanted to be there for Wanda in case things went south. That much was clear from the moment you showed up in Westview the first time.

“How come you didn’t just zap her? Fight back?” Darcy asked as you fully shifted to the present day and paused the memory.

“Because she wasn’t wrong. I did miss Bucky, Steve and Sam. I missed Banner, too, because they were, in the end, the ones still here that cared if I lived or died. And Spider-Man. Which is random and weird, but he did. And frankly, what I said in the coffee shop was true. I had no idea what my powers would do to her spell. I could have leveled the town. That was not an option.”

“So, that Agatha woman…” Darcy started to say and then stopped. “Wait. That was her? In the coffee shop? That was why you were acting so weird?”

“Yeah. Wanda could have killed her or taken Agatha away with her to imprison her. She didn’t. After what Agatha tried to do to Wanda, to try and take her powers, Wanda had every right to finish her off. But Wanda doesn’t likely know all that yet. There are rules set up from ages ago. Things witches can and can’t do to each other under specific circumstances. So Wanda left her trapped here—for now anyway. But, whatever happened with them, it affected me, too. I got hit with stray magic blasts. I’m betting it messed up my powers in ways I didn’t realize. And maybe my memories as well.”

As Darcy knelt there, her phone finally chimed. It was some weird little R2-D2 chirpy beep, and she looked elated as she showed you the message. “Seems Bruce still cares if you are OK or not. I don’t think bringing him here is such a great idea…”

“Did anyone send him data about what happened here?” you asked as you got to your feet, pocketing some of the dirt from the lot before you stood up. “Air and soil samples? Readings from the residents?”

“I can get them for him. Trust me, Jimmy Woo and Monica Rambeau would be more than happy to help. I’m glad that loon Hayward seems to have gone into hiding or was hauled away to The Raft,” Darcy noted as she checked her phone again. “Seems the doc is working out of a Stark lab here in Jersey. Road trip?”

You really didn’t want to go see Bruce. You had no idea how you’d explain any of what you did to him.

++++++++++

You rehearsed what you planned to tell Bruce a million times in your mind as Darcy drove along the Garden State Parkway to a place called Woodcliff Lake. Stark Industries did indeed have a lab there, and it made you want to scream as you walked into the facility. You did not need yet another reminder that you could not save Tony Stark’s life at the end of that final battle with Thanos. That was part of why you were in this mess in the first place. It was also why you had a screaming fight with Stephen Strange, but no one else knew about that yet.

“Dr. Banner? We’re here!” Darcy yelled as you walked toward what had to be the research wing. The lack of security in the place was a bit disturbing, but then again, there were probably booby traps built into every square inch of the place. You could just hear Tony now as you got closer to the lab area. It would likely have been close to the speech you got the first time he talked to you at the compound.

“Hey! Lucky Charms! Don’t touch any of the expensive stuff. I guess that means don’t touch anything. I still have no idea why you are hanging around the team except that Steve wants you here for some reason. Maybe you’re tied to…his friend…and I just don’t want to face that? Still have issues with all of that, even if the man is dead. Pepper and Morgan said I should be nice to you, but I’m not quite there yet after what happened in Berlin. They are better people than I’ll ever be.”

“Earth to Kari?” you finally heard Bruce say as he waved his massive green hand in front of your face. Then he realized why you were likely spacing out. "Dr. Lewis, can we have a minute?”

“You can call me Darcy, if I can call you Bruce?” Lewis said as Banner nodded to her. “Cool. I’ll go find the little scientist’s room and be right back,” she added as she left the lab.

“So,” Bruce started as he pointed you toward a set of chairs at one side of the lab, “Darcy filled me in via text. I have no idea what happened with Wanda, and I know none of us know where she is. I did call a friend who wants to help,” he noted as a swirling circle of yellow light formed near the window that looked out over the parking lot. “I figured you’d listen to him, and he knows more about this stuff than I do.”

“What did you do?” Wong shouted as he exited the portal. “You usually listen to reason. Why did you go after Wanda all alone?”

“I went to help Wanda. She was hurting. She watched Vision die twice. She lost Pietro. I can relate to all that very, very well. My twin Branan died in front of my eyes, too, and I’ve buried two husbands. Both died in battle. I just wanted her to know she wasn’t alone. But she…she hit all my vulnerable points. And she was under attack at the same time. From a woman named Agatha Harkness and from the director of SWORD. Some martinet named Hayward. He built another Vision. I think Hayward was using Wanda’s powers to bring him to life. Darcy is going to check in with some of the people who worked with her to get you more intel, Bruce.”

“Another version of Vision? Great,” Bruce muttered as he looked over at Wong. “As for this Harkness person…”

“The name rings very small bells, so I’ll need to do some research,” Wong noted as you bumped your left fist against your forehead. “What?”

“Harkness is a succubus. And she is old. Not as old as I am, but she is still a good 400 years old, give or take a day. She apparently survived the Salem Witch Trials. Wanda spelled her and left her in Westview. I think she is, at least in small ways, aware that her world is all wrong. I didn’t want to press it when I saw her in that coffee shop. We do not need an angry succubus flying around. Wong, they got into an aerial battle, and Wanda was using sigils, runes, whatever you want to call them, to focus her power. I think she picked that up from good old Aggie. I never showed her anything like that on purpose. I always suspected she had magic in her bones, but it wasn’t my place to start that fire. The bigger issue is that Wanda conjured up two children while she was there. She created cats for me, so anything is possible. I got knocked out by the end of the fight, so I have no idea what exactly happened in the end other than Wanda running off and Agatha being left behind for some reason.”

“And?” Wong asked as he started to look you up and down. “You did a spell? And it went bad? Your aura is all messed up.”

“I…I tried to do a spell so The Avengers would think of me less and less, and then eventually I’d just be a fleeting memory. I felt walking away in the dead of night, the thing I usually do when I am leaving town, would not be good enough. The spell got botched, and now I’m connected in some fashion to Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes. Looking back at it, I spent more time with them in the days leading up to my departure. Steve and Bruce were there the day I left, and so were Sam and Bucky. And…I’m carrying a lot of guilt about Bucky after his accident in 1943.”

“All this on top of the magical circus Wanda made? Are you insane?” Wong yelled as he started to pace.

“And the fight I had with Stephen on the day of the battle. Yeah, I guess I am insane,” you replied as Wong threw up his hands. Bruce had gotten extremely quiet, and that was not a good thing.

“Before we get to dissecting your spell, Kari, was this because of what Tony said? About you not being an Avenger because you were…?”

“Unstable? Yes. And the fact I could not bring anyone back from the grave, especially during that last battle. And the fact about who killed his parents. Buck did while under Hydra control. Steve found out and never told Tony. I ran into The Winter Soldier a few times over the decades, so there was the chance I could have prevented their deaths, too. Tony really had no reason to ask me to join the band.”

“Once we get your spell problem sorted, then we will address this, too,” Bruce said as he looked toward Wong and shook his head. “I loved Tony like a brother, but he was wrong…”

You winced a few times as you tried to listen to Bruce and Wong, now joined once again by Darcy, as they tried to figure out how to fix or reverse that spell, and they hashed out what might have happened to you during that first trip to Westview. You were really trying to focus on their questions, but you felt a tug that no one else could ever have possibly felt.

“Baltimore,” you mumbled as you pulled out your cellphone and debated texting the person you felt tugging at that damned invisible string. No. That would have ended badly, especially since your original spell had gone haywire.

“Bucky Barnes was arrested?” Darcy asked as she showed you her phone alert. “I bet he punched that new fake Cap in the nose. Sorry, but that guy looks like he has no clue. I saw him on Good Morning America. Total cheese fest.”

“Wait. What?” you asked as you took her phone. “Sam didn’t keep the shield? I just hope Bucky didn’t punch Sam and wind up in jail for that!” You gave Darcy back her phone and looked at yours again. It was buzzing. “Anyone here know who the hell is Christina Raynor?” you asked the trio in front of you. No one had any clue about that. You hit the speaker button as you answered the call.

“Hello? Ms. MacOrish. I’m James Barnes’ therapist, Christina Raynor. Sam Wilson said I should give you a call and ask you to join us in Baltimore. As quickly as possible, if you can. I don’t think Mr. Barnes wants to spend the night in a holding cell.”

“Oh no, you are not going to Baltimore,” Wong said as he crossed his arms and got a stern look on his face. “Not while your head is all over the place. You could portal to Baltimore in the 1800s for all you know. You could end up eating lunch with Lord Baltimore in the 1700s. You really shouldn’t do this.”

“Wong, what better place for me to go than to see a therapist?” you said with a smirk as you opened your own portal, this one a lovely shade of emerald green, that went to where Raynor was waiting for you—outside an interrogation room at the city jail.

“Mr. Wilson said you’d be fast. He did not tell me you were one of the powered class,” Raynor said as you went through the portal, looking back to wave briefly as you heard Darcy’s last comment.

“What about your rental car?”

[naralanis]

hi Nara! i love your pen posts both here insta and i'm doing it, i'm getting myself a fountain pen! i was having fun in the goulet website for hours and i think i found one that i like, but could i have your opinion on it? i think it's pretty but i feel kind of nervous spending fifty dollars on a pen! it's this one: www . gouletpens. com/collections/conklin-duragraph-fountain-pens/products/conklin-duragraph-fountain-pen-demo-black-limited-edition?variant=32002532704299

Hi there! Glad you like the pendemonium (I will see myself out)!

Firstly I'd like to formally welcome you to the rabbit hole. I too have spent hours drooling at pens on the Goulet website -- those guys really know how to take nice product pictures, and that's their gain, my (our) wallet's loss!

But secondly, I have a very important question -- is this your very first fountain pen? I'm assuming it is, and while I cannot question your aesthetics (they are on point), I would like to make a few points/suggestions, especially since you asked for my opinion on your choice!

My gut reaction before I even clicked the link?

Pump the brakes!

Why? See under the cut, as it is time to get a little rambly!

First of all -- and I know this may come as a bit of surprise -- if this is your very first fountain pen, maybe consider adjusting your budget. I balked at my first $50-something pen -- also a Conklin Duragraph -- and that was after I had amassed a few other pens.

Why is this important? Well, as this is your first fountain pen and you've never used one before, you don't know what you like. Therefore, it is very possible that you'll shell out for a $50 pen and hate it, and the whole experience will feel like a waste.

(You could also buy it and love it! I don't mean to be a downer!)

As soon as I saw the brand, I knew we'd be looking at pens in the $50-and-well-above range, which leads me to the concerns I have about this particular brand (Conklin-- click here if you'd like to know a little more about the brand history).

I own a few Conklin pens (three Duragraphs, two All-Americans, and one Herringbone), and let me tell you something: not a single one wrote satisfactorily out of the box.

To me, that's not so much a problem as it is an inconvenience (and frankly, incredibly annoying given their price), because now I know how to tune my own nibs (like I did with the Duragraph Earth above), tinker with the feeds, swap nib units, realign tines, and deal with customer service (which for all pen stores I've ever dealt with, has been exceptional).

That's not to say that every single Conklin pen is like that! Admittedly, I've gotten a little more unlucky than most with my badly-cut nibs and defective feeds . Some people love their Conklins and never had a problem with any model -- you could be one of them.

The thing is, even if I never had any problems with my previous Conklins... I still think they're expensive for what they are! The demonstrator Duragraph that caught your eye -- that has an MSRP of $80.The reegular Duragraph models retail for $56 -- but they don't feel like they cost $56. The resin feels cheap, and the section threads on two of my three Duragraphs were a bit wonky --I ended up exchanging one because the section just didn't screw in correctly. The nibs came with tines that were way too tight (basically stopping ink flow), and don't get me started on their Omniflex nib...

Don't get me wrong, the Duragraph is beautiful and even I'm tempted to get them. But I know exactly what I'm paying for -- and at this point, I expect to have something to fix in the pen when I get it. But for your first fountain pen? Maybe try some of the pens I suggest on this post here.

If your heart is set on a demonstrator pen, may I suggest some cheaper suggestions:

1. The Pilot Kakuno

Sure, it doesn't quite have the same look as the Duragraph, but it's like, a third of the price (at Goulet, it goes for about $13.50!)! And granted, it doesn't come with a converter, but Pilot cartridges are not expensive, and even if you do decide to add a Pilot converter, it doesn't even come close to the price of the Demo Duragraph. Plus, the nibs on these little things are phenomenal!

2. Kaweco Perkeo

I call this one Kaweco's Kakuno because... well, look at it! It's pretty much the same package, retailing for about $15-18. It doesn't come with a converter, but it does take standard international cartridges -- the most widely available and varied type of cartridge!

3. Lamy Vista

A different, more modern look, easily swappable nibs, a wide variety of (proprietary) Lamy cartridges (you can buy a converter separately). It goes for $29.60 at Goulet, but you can find it much cheaper elsewhere (my father got his for about $20 at Amazon, I believe).

4. Sailor 1911 Compass

OK, so at a sale price of $30, we're getting a bit too close to that under $50 recommendation. However, I still think this one deserves some thought -- Sailor quality control is miles better than Yafa (the distributor for Conklin, Monteverde, and a couple of others). Sailor nibs (even the steel ones) are on a league of their own, and this pen comes with the proprietary Sailor converter so you can use bottled ink!

5. TWSBI ECO

At an MSRP of $33, this one is the most expensive 'starter pen' I suggest. It is an iconic demonstrator, and a very affordable piston filler pen -- so it has a great ink capacity, and to top it off, their nibs are quite smooth; I've never had a hard-starting one. The only reason to stay away from the ECO (and any other piston fillers) would be if you don't want to use bottled ink and want to stick to cartridges.

I hope that helps -- sorry if it was a bit of a downer, but don't let it get in the way of your excitement! Do let me know which pen you end up getting, even if you do decide to go for the Conklin.

Have fun, and write on!

[oboevallis]

the books

so in private practice violet wrote two books about her life and the practice and everyone was pretty pissed at her but they let her publish anyway, so im not sure if this makes a lot of sense but here you go! hope everyone’s staying safe and doing well. and im working on some other stories so be on the look out for those

“Thanks for helping me pack Maggie.” Amelia smiled as she folded another sweater into the cardboard box.

“I really don’t want to. We’re gonna miss you around here.” The other woman pouted.

“I know.” Amelia shot a sympathetic smile to her. “But I think Link and I need our own space. Once this baby comes, no one is going to be too fond of us when he’s crying his head off.”

“No one would mind.”

“You may not mind, but the kids wouldn’t get any sleep, and Meredith would say that she doesn’t mind but would be passive aggressive.”

“Okay, you maybe right, but we will miss you.”

“I’ll miss you guys too. I’ve been living with you guys since I moved to Seattle.”

“Hmm.” Maggie hummed as she went to her sisters closet and started folding the contents that were hung. “Your closet is such a mess.” She complained as she pulled out the clothes.

“Sorry.” Amelia chuckled as she moved to her bookshelf, and started bubble wrapping the picture frames. “Organization isn’t quite my thing.”

“Really? I never would of realized.” The cardio surgeon sarcastically said. Once she cleared the hanging clothes she moved to the floor where she had her shoes, and started a new box for them. As she was about to stand up and takes things on the shelf she spotted in the corner of the closet, a box with two books on top of it, one labeled ‘Beautiful Scars’ and another ‘Private Practice’, she tentatively picked on up before Amelia realized.

“What are you doing?” Maggie was shocked by the change in her sisters demeanor, she was all bright and shiny before, and now it was like someone drained the life out of her.

“Just looking at these books.” Amelia struggled to get up, but once she did she walked over to Maggie and grabbed the box and the books. “Looks interesting, could I read one.”

“No.” Amelia quickly said turning around to look at her. “I-it’s just nothing you’d find interesting.”

“Come on you know me, I’ll read anything. Any book I see a basically need to read it.” Maggie chuckled.

“Trust me you won’t like it.” She sighed as she placed the three items into the box that contained the items that were on her bookshelf.

“Ooooooookay then.” Maggie could tell something was off, but decided to let it go for the moment. “I’m gonna start taking boxes down stairs.” She smiled picking one up and making her way to the door. “And don’t you dare pick one up.”

“You think I could physically pick one up?” The neurosurgeon chuckled gesturing to her swollen abdomen. Once she was out of eyesight she turned around and ran her fingers to over the books and the box.

“Ready for me to take that one down?” Maggie asked, startling the other woman. She simply nodded and taped up the box, and stepped out of the way so it could be brought down stairs.

“Yeah, thanks Maggie.”

_______________________________________

“God Maggie, what happened?” Meredith asked as she spotted her sister browsing through Amazon.

“Huh?” The woman asked turning around the face the latter.

“You only go online shopping when something goes wrong in your life.”

“Oh.” Maggie chuckled, thinking back to when Jackson dumped her and 15 Amazon packages came to the house that week. “No, I’m just looking for some new books to read.”

“What about the bookshelf of unread books in your room?” The general surgeon asked as she pulled out her children’s lunch boxes to pack for the next day.

“Well, it’s just, um like, someone suggested them to me.”

“Why are you acting so weird?”

“I’m not acting weird. Your acting weird.” Maggie quickly said as she shut her laptop and brought it upstairs with her.

“Alright then.” The front door then opened and she heard a pair of keys drop into the bowl by the door. “Amelia?”

“Yeah?” She whispered stepping into the kitchen.

“Hey, you settled in at Links?”

“Yeah, I’m just gonna spend one more night here, before Zola infiltrates my room.” She chuckled stealing one of the baby carrots Meredith was putting into containers.

“Hmm.” Meredith chuckled, slightly slapping her sisters hand. “She’s been begging for her own room. So if things don’t work out with Link you and the baby will be stuck on the couch.”

“Oh shut up.” The neurosurgeon playfully rolled her eyes. Amelia then sat down on the island chair, stealing another carrot much to her sisters dismay. “You know I was thinking earlier, since I’ve lived in Seattle I’ve lived with you and the kids the whole time. Well other than when you left for San Diego and had a secret baby.”

“And when you were married to Owen.”

“Oh yeah, well I was here a majority of the time.” Meredith nodded, smirking at the comment. “Well I’m gonna go up to bed.”

“Wait, could you do me a favor? And fold the laundry.”

“Oh my God, how’s the laundry going to get down without me here?” She chuckled as she made her way the the laundry room. “It’s always the pregnant woman that gets taken advantage of.”

“Melodramatic much?”

________________________________________

Maggie quickly finished the book ‘Beautiful Scars’ assuming the character Alice was her sister. The sexually confident, risk taker neurosurgeon. She found the book fascinating, and inspirational. She knew it was based on real life experiences of the woman and she seemed to included the lives of her friends and their stories helped her recover. It frustrated her that the books didn’t arrive at the same time, but the second book was supposed to get her some time today.

“We brought pizza!” She could hear her sisters boyfriend yell as he entered the house.

“Auntie Maggie!” Ellis cheered once she saw her aunt come down the stairs. “Look Auntie Amelia’s back.”

“I see.” Maggie chuckled, she knew Amelia was the youngests favorite. “I hear there’s pizza?” Ellis nodded enthusiastically, Meredith tried to maintain a healthy diet for the kids so whenever they got pizza it was a treat.

“Auntie Amelia what’s this word?” Zola asked, pointing to the word in a book.

“Re-cip-ro-cate.” Amelia observed the book a little closer, grabbing it out of the girls hands. Flipping it to the front cover to reveal the title ‘Private Practice’ “Where did you get this?”

“It was in an Amazon package and I’ve read all my books.” Maggie’s heart dropped when she saw the interaction.

“What the hell Maggie?” Amelia asked holding up the book so she could clearly see it. “Where’s the other one?” Maggie hated lying, and it always scared her when Amelia cornered her.

“I-I already read it, and it was really good. I don’t know why you didn’t want me to read. It’s crazy what happened to that woman, I mean she was just trying to help her patient, and then that happens, it’s crazy!”

“Yeah, and what about the part that she basically calls me a whore?”

“I didn’t take it that way, I think she was explaining that after the attack she had intimacy issues and you helped her in a way.” Amelia dramatically rolled her eyes and walked over to the trash can and started ripping out pages. “What the hell Amelia? What’s going on, what’s in that book that you don’t want me to read?”

“Just forget it Maggie.” She told her boyfriend she wanted to leave, he seemed visibly confused, but obliged. Leaving everyone very confused at the woman’s outburst.

“Why did Auntie Amelia get so upset over that book?” Zola asked her other aunt.

“I don’t know.” The woman shook her head, still confused.

________________________________________

It was Maggie and Amelia’s day off, and the neurosurgeon felt incredibly guilty for her outburst the previous night. So Amelia took the two books and the box and made her way back to her old home.

“Maggie?” She cautiously asked as she stepped through the door.

“Amelia?” Maggie stopped in the middle of the stairs.

“I want to apologize.”

“No I should, I know you didn’t want me reading those books, but I couldn’t help myself. I’m really sorry, and I didn’t think your a whore for your information.” Amelia nodded and walked up the stairs and into her sisters room, and made her herself comfortable in her sisters bed.

“Sit down.” Amelia patted the space next to her, and smiled through the tears already starting to form in her eyes. She pulled out a stack of papers from the box, it was the papers that contain who her sons organs went to. Maggie seemed visibly confused as she looked through them. “Okay. So you’ve already read the first book. My friend from down in LA wrote that book about her experiences, and then later on she wrote another book. And that book is more about the practice as a whole and how we worked collaboratively and were a family. One of the chapters talks about one of the ethical fights we had.”

“Okay.” Maggie sweetly whispered, encouraging her to continue, looking back down at the papers.

“And umm, that fight had to do with my son.” Maggie looked visibly confused, once she heard that. “And your probably thinking ‘Amelia, you don’t have a son, and you’ve never mentioned it’ and it’s just not something I talk about. So ummm basically he didn’t have a brain, ironic right? And I decided to donate his organs and a lot of people in the practice didn’t agree with it and it was just this big ethical debacle, but in the end the organ procurement happened. And my baby saved a lot of other babies.” Tears stung in the woman’s eyes.

“Amelia.” Maggie whispered taking her sisters hand in hers. “I had no idea, why have you never told me.”

“It’s unbearable to think about and remember everyday, so talking about it is even worse.” Maggie held the woman as she cried. “I’m sorry I overreacted, I just I didn’t want you reading it. I was pissed when she published it, but maybe it helped people.”

“It’s okay.” Maggie cooed as she ran her fingers through the teary eyed woman’s hair. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. And I love you.”

[soundsof71]

Hey! Album: 'Fleetwood Mac' (1975) - Fleetwood Mac

Hey! Great to hear from you! You (and your previous blog) were my original inspiration for trying to raise my tumblr game to something intentionally curated, and more than that, personally creative. Sorry to have let you down. LOL

What a pleasure to talk about this one, though, an album I think is -- strangely enough -- one of the most underrated albums in the classic rock pantheon!

What’s that you say? An album with “Rhiannon” and “Landslide” underrated?!?! Well it’s true, seriously underrated, at least partly because those two stellar, nay, legendary songs are the first ones that most people think of. There's so much more! It's definitely my favorite Fleetwood Mac album!

My perspective is a little different than the standard rap that Fleetwood Mac didn't properly begin until those two California kids joined the band in 1975, because to me, they started taking off when their first American joined the band, Bob Welch in 1971 for Future Games, which I wrote about at some length here. 

(For the record, Future Games is my second favorite Fleetwood Mac album. Anyone who hasn't checked it out really needs to.)

I’ll leave it at that for now, except to observe that to most of my music nerd friends at the time, I was a latecomer to Fleetwood Mac the band, having completely missed their earlier, bluesier lineups. Indeed, the 1971 lineup was their 8th! And they'd come to #9 in 1972, before landing on lineup #10 in 1975.

They had a bunch of hits on the five albums in this 71-74 range (”Hypnotized” is one that still slays me) that I think hold up as among their best ever. While the album before Fleetwood Mac, Heroes Are Hard to Find didn’t have a hit single, it rose to #34 on the US charts, and got plenty of attention. 

My point is that Fleetwood Mac didn’t spring into existence out of nowhere in 1975. Nor was 1975 necessarily ground zero for the millions of people who bought the album Fleetwood Mac. It came out in the summer of ‘75, but took 15 months to hit #1 in the US! (It peaked at #11 in the UK.) This was a far bigger album in 1976 when all the singles came out, and the band was touring like crazy to support it.

They basically dragged the album to the top of the charts kicking and screaming by the end of THAT year with relentless touring, setting the stage for their true commercial breakthrough with Rumours in 1977, but artistically? I prefer everything about 1975′s Fleetwood Mac.

btw, the music nerds know that Fleetwood Mac was recorded at Sound City Studios, which makes all the difference in the telling of the tale. In 1974, the band had located to Los Angeles, and following the departure of Bob Welch in December, Mick Fleetwood went looking for both a recording studio and a guitarist. 

While getting to know producer Keith Olsen at Sound City (a studio legendary for its drum sound, among other things), Keith played Mick some tracks from an album he’d recorded here a couple of years earlier with a local guitarist and his girlfriend singer, both of whom were also songwriters.

Mick said, I’ll book the studio to record my next album, I’ll book you to produce, and I’ll hire the guitarist....who famously informed Mick that he and his girlfriend were a package deal. All of this happened because of Sound City Studios.

(Here's Mick recording this very album in this very studio.)

Your friend and mine Dave Grohl directed a FANTASTIC documentary about Sound City Studios, a kind of a dump to be honest, but where tons of phenomenal records were made, from After The Gold Rush to Caribou, Damn The Torpedoes, Nevermind, Rage Against The Machine, and most recently, Phoebe Bridgers’ Punisher. Lots and lots of stories about the making of Fleetwood Mac in this movie, and much more. 

Here’s the trailer. The whole movie is available on YT, too! And Amazon Prime, and a bunch of other places. HIGHLY recommended!

So here we go taking directly about Fleetwood Mac.....

the first song from the album i heard: "Over My Head". This was the first single released in the US, remarkably, four months after the album was released! I dunno, did the label not want to sell any albums? Or did they just not get how catchy these tunes were? I have no idea.

And ironically, the band didn't like the choice of "Over My Head" at all, ranking it dead-last in their own considerations of likely singles! I think that this is evidence that they were using heavy drugs much earlier than we thought. LOL

"Over My Head" peaked at #20 in the US, their highest to date by far, although, in some defense of the band's reservations, didn't chart at all in the UK. Saying that it rose to "only" 20 in the charts doesn't begin to describe how heavily it was played, though. A LOT.

do i own the album: Did then, Spotify now. The answer for most of the albums in this round of Asks. :-)

my favorite song: "Over My Head". Look, I admit that this is insane when Fleetwood Mac also includes "Landslide" and "Rhiannon." "Landslide" in particular is maybe one of the greatest songs anyone has ever written, and every single person reading this knows somebody named Rhiannon because of that song. (I've met two.) And hey, "Say You Love Me" was a MUCH bigger hit at the time too... but I'm tellin' ya, "Over My Head" fucks. 

It's the single version that fucks hardest, though, no doubt about it. I was disappointed when I finally bought the album that the version there fades in (NO! THIS IS WRONG) and has a wide mix that diffuses the impact. The radio version is so tight that it's practically mono, and it punches you right upside the head. 

One of my favorite things about listening to "Over My Head" in the past couple of weeks for this Ask is that it's Old School Fleetwood Mac. Chris on piano, Mick on drums, and John McVie with what might be the best bassline that anyone stroked out in 1975. My god, it's a fucking monster, and it just gets hotter as the song progresses. By the end, it's on fire, and you hear it so much better in this tight single mix.

The new guy adds a nice little solo on top of a nice rhythm lick, and he and Stevie add background vocals, but they're not front and center. "Over My Head" is really Christine McVie's showcase, although Fleetwood and Mac really shine too. This would have been a monster hit without the new kids, as indeed it pretty much was. You could say the same thing about "Say You Love Me", which is also all about Christine's songcraft, and a voice like no other, then or now.

Here's my edit of a lovely Mick Putland photo of Christine McVie from a couple of years earlier.

I guarantee that it's been way too long since you heard the in-your-face single version of "Over My Head". On Spotify, you can find it on the couple of Deluxe Editions of Fleetwood Mac (here's one), and it's also on the anthology, The Very Best of Fleetwood Mac, which I've embedded here. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gw-lIt1ILzk

least favorite song: "I'm So Afraid." I'm so afraid not. LOL

a song I didn’t like at first, but now do: Hmm, I might put "Sugar Daddy" in that category, but honestly, the main thing I don't like about this song is the title. LOL But it's the 4th best Christine McVie song on an album where the best three of hers were all released as singles, so I guess it all works out.

a song I used to like, but now don’t: Anything by the new guy. I'm not going to go into detail here because what I love about this album, I still love. At the time, I dug two of his songs here (you can guess which two, surely), but I started to really despise this guy a few years later. Now, I can't listen to anything where he's prominent at all, on any Fleetwood Mac records.

Fortunately there are more than enough Christine and Stevie songs, and Mick and John's playing, plus all those earlier albums like Future Games, to keep Fleetwood Mac in the rock good pantheon. I'd have fired the new guy 30 years earlier than he was. 

favorite lyric:

Mirror in the sky

What is love?

Can the child within my heart rise above?

Can I sail through the changin' ocean tides?

Can I handle the seasons of my life?

Well, I've been afraid of changin'

'Cause I've built my life around you

But time makes you bolder

Even children get older

And I'm getting older too

Like I said, the two Stevie Nicks tracks on Fleetwood Mac deserve every bit of the love they've gotten over the years. You can also see with just a quick glance around my blog that she's one of my most-posted artists. Please don't take me repping Christine as any disrespect for Stevie!

Do I like "Landslide" a little more than I otherwise might because it's specifically about outgrowing the aforementioned new guy? Maybe.  Or do I like it a little less than I otherwise might because I can't hear it without thinking of him? Maybe that too.

overall rating out of 10: Then: 9.4. Now: 9. The new guy went 2-for-4 for my money at the time, and the two that he whiffed on are genuinely terrible...but as bad as those two clunkers were, the rest of the album seemed perfect to me. Certainly among my most-played mainstream rock records into the early 80s. I was perfectly fine skipping one song on each side.

Even though nowadays I can't stand any of the songs he sings lead on, you take those off, and you STILL have "Landslide", "Rhiannon", "Say You Love Me", "Over My Head", and "Warm Ways". No album with ALL THOSE on them gets less than an 8.5, right?

I'm adding a few tenths each for how tightly Fleetwood and Mac are locked into each other and these songs on rythm (easily the most underrated duo of the era, sez me), and Keith Olsen's immaculate production. The score of 9 is therefore objectively correct and mathematically unassailable. LOL

I'm going to end where I began, by talking about Christine McVie. Instead of listening to this first and foremost as an album with a couple of giant Stevie Nicks songs, listen again to Fleetwood Mac as Christine McVie really lighting things up. She deserves so much more credit for the band's success than she gets, and seriously, "Over My Head" fucks. 

Now looky here, @aluacrescente . I know that YOU have strong feelings about this record, so spill! And the rest of you, too! I don't intend to have the last word on the albums in any of these Asks! Just the first one. :-) So lemme know what YOU think!

PS. Apologies for any formatting weirdness! I started this on desktop, where I do all my writing, saved the first few paragraphs to come back to later, only to be told by tumblr that I'd stated this on the app (DID NOT) and could only edit there. Grrr. Not cool, @staff. I've spent another day just tweaking to make it somewhat readable and wondering how these people can be so bad at their jobs. LOL

My crackpot opinions and wobbly writing are my own of course, and I'm aware that they have a larger negative impact on readability than tumblr's incompetence by far. LOL

[syms-things-5]

Clear The Area - Chapter Fourteen

Previous Chapter HERE

Warnings: Language, NSFW Language

Tags: @jennmurawski13 @kelbabyblue

Note: Apologies, this is a repost from yesterday for reasons I won’t go into now. i hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter Fourteen

Sarah jostled with the mail as she entered their building, trying hard not to knock over the newest fresh plant currently adorning the entrance. They usually took it in turns to handle the post and whatever parcels the Supervisor had signed for that day but she was starting to feel a little short-changed as Shanna had consistently more post coming her way these days. Sarah realised she needed to get out more. Carting everything up the stairs was starting to become its own workout. Today’s treasures involved two Nasty Gal packages, a package from Pottery Barn, a box from Amazon, and what appeared to be a free sample of a Louis Vuitton fragrance. Sarah might just keep that last one to herself.

Jocelyn had sent another care package of sorts her way but it only served to remind Sarah that she had not called her folks in over a week. Ever since the accident, Jocelyn had been so consumed with worry that she had taken to sending Sarah articles ripped form magazines and gift cards for relaxation therapies. Despite Sarah’s many protests to the contrary, Jocelyn was sure Sarah was struggling with some form of undiagnosed PTSD. She’d read about it in a magazine. “If affects upwards of half a million American every year, honey.”

After successfully dodging the neighbour’s schnauzer, she eventually reached their floor and was just about to turn her key in the lock when the door swung wide open. Before she had time to react, she was brought face to face with a stressed-out Shanna, hair dripping wet from a shower. Not her favourite Shanna it had to be said. Not even in the Top Ten.

She grabbed Sarah by both shoulders. “I don’t know what I’m going to wear, Sarah! I’ve got less than an hour!”

“And hello to you, too!” Sarah smiled broadly, almost comically so, before Shanna lowered her head in embarrassment and moved out of the way so Sarah could physically get into her own home. She held the packages up. “Maybe there is something in here?”

Shanna shook her head. “No, they’re more summery. More formal.” She’d started fluttering around Sarah in a panic. “Do you still have that leather midi skirt? Do you think I could fit into it?”

“Uhh yeh it’s in the back of my closet somewhere.” she remembered. “Might be a bit warm, though? What are you gonna wear with it?”

“Well it’s a punky kind of bar, think it has live music and stuff so I thought maybe that Rolling Stones t-shirt and the maroon boots? Keep my hair down and casual?”

“So basically all of my clothes?” Sarah retorted. Shanna pressed her hands together in prayer and gave her the best pitiful smile she could manage, one she knew Sarah couldn’t resist. Shanna seemed to genuinely like this guy and if this guy was as charming and as smart as she told her he was, Sarah was sure she would like him, too. Hell, he’d be best friends with Scott and Chris in no time so long as he enjoyed football, Sam Adams, and didn’t put points on Shanna’s licence.

“Give me five minutes and I’ll see what I can pull together. Do you wanna borrow that heart necklace of mine? If you’re wearing your hair down, it’s probably best you avoid wearing earrings unless you want me to cut you out of them again.” Sarah shouted as she walked into her room unaware that Shanna had followed her closely behind.

“Oh god I hadn’t even thought that far. You know what, I might just cancel. This is just too much right now and I’m not even sure if he really likes me as anything more than a friend.” She feigned a dramatic flop onto Sarah’s bed, one arm landing across her forehead. Sarah delved through her closet to locate the desired items. If Shanna was threatening to cancel the date already, it must be serious.

“How many of you are going to this club?” Sarah asked, emerging from the closet doorway.

“Don’t know. Think three or four from my department and another couple from his?” she responded, hopelessness evident in her voice. Shanna never did well with vagueness where guys were concerned; everything had to be black and white with her.

“Come on, you’ve still got time.” Sarah encouraged as she carried some clothes and a couple of pairs of boots towards the bed. “Dry your hair and we’ll figure this out, OK?”

“Have I told you how much I love you lately?” Shanna pouted and Sarah tried to shrug off the pit growing in her stomach from her words. Shanna used every ounce of energy she could muster to get up and drag herself back into the bathroom leaving Sarah shaking her head.

It was only a rare occasion when Shanna took less time getting ready in the bathroom. Sarah had fond memories of shouting through the door back when they were at college and deciding to move in together required a complete 180 degree shift in her expectations. Still, in less than half an hour, here she emerged fully dressed, primer and foundation applied, and hair dried accordingly. It was a miracle of epic proportions and if she hadn’t shoved some false eyelashes into Sarah’s hand, Sarah would have snapped a photograph to send to the family as evidence that their little girl was growing up.

Thanks to her professional, steady hand, Sarah was always the eyelash-fixer among their group. While fixing a couple of lashes to the corners of her eyes, Sarah’s phone buzzed. It buzzed a couple more times in quick succession and she would have managed to ignore it had it not been for Shanna’a roving eye.

“Looks like someone wants you.” she murmured, trying her hardest not to move as Sarah held the glued lash in place with some tweezers.

“It’ll just be Audrey probably.” Sarah responded in no rush to check for herself, keeping a firm hold on what she was doing.

Shanna tried glancing to her side one more time to catch who it was but couldn’t quite make it out. It buzzed again. “I’d hate for you to miss out on a date with Greg on account of helping piece my pathetic love life together. Oooh maybe we could double-date!”

Shanna’s exclaim nearly caused Sarah to lose her grip on the tweezers but a sharp intake of breath convinced Shanna to give up the inquisition. “Sorry. Sorry.” she held her hands up as an apology before feeling Sarah’s hands relax as she moved across to the other eye.

Sarah was pleased to see Shanna eventually leave their apartment. Not because she wanted the peace particularly but just because it was nice to see her get excited over a guy that wasn’t Ben. She looked gorgeous, too. Sarah was quite proud of her work. If it wasn’t to be a proper date, it definitely would be after tonight. Robbie would be an absolute fool to miss out.

It was only when she slumped dow onto the couch and spent the next hour or so flicking through television channels that she remembered her phone had buzzed earlier on. She reluctantly peeled herself off the sofa and retrieved it from where it had originally landed on her bedside table. Honestly, it was like Shanna had taught her nothing.

From just two messages, Chris had attempted some mild flirtation with her before asking her if she knew what in God’s Name Penhaligon’s was.

Sarah 8.19pm: Perfume I think. Pretty old school brand. Why?

Chris 8.23pm: Mom wants it for her birthday. Never heard of it before. Scott thought it might be some kind of scarf??

She googled the name to make sure. Last thing she wanted was to end up ruining Lisa’s birthday celebrations with a present she absolutely did not want. Her birthday was something she took with increasing seriousness as each year passed by and her children and grandchildren grew older in front of her eyes. There was always a party of sorts, a massive cake, perhaps a theme, and a “suggestion list” for possible gifts. Well, they say “suggestion” but rarely did anyone dare deviate from “the list”. Sarah hadn’t yet considered buying a present but if Chris was already looking, she would no doubt need to catch up.

Sarah 8.34pm: Yep, pretty certain it’s a perfume. Pretty pricey. Good shout.

Sarah started scanning through her phone as another couple of messages caught her eye, some she had accidentally missed from earlier in the day. One from Audrey. One from Greg that she was not expecting.

Greg 7.02pm: Great news! 29th is set up. All you need to do is say the word! Don’t know how long I can hold the spot open so let me know as soon as you can. Have a great evening x

It took her a moment to register what he was talking about.

Chris 8.37pm: Cool THX What are you wearing??

Sarah stared down at the phone. She felt light-headed. There was far too much going on for this time of the day. She wiped at her forehead with her sweater sleeve and took a deep breath.

Sarah 8.41pm: You wouldn’t be interested lol

Chris 8.42pm: try me..........

He had a surprising habit these days of cheering her up.

Sarah 8.46pm: Nah I look a mess. Get out while you can.

Her phone started ringing almost as soon as she’d pressed ‘send’, Chris’ name flashing on her screen. She contemplated not answering now that her mood had taken a turn but she knew he would work out something was wrong and immediately dive over.

“Hey,” she answered, trying for a jovial tone but coming up just south of delirious.

“Hey you,” he smiled through the phone, happy to hear her voice. “In all the years I have known you, Bernette, not once would I describe you as looking like a mess.”

She laughed down the line. She made the right decision.

“...you are far too cute to ever be a mess. Do you know that? Like, I can already picture you with your sweats on, your hair tied up, soft skin...” he trailed off with a low sigh that she was sure was filthier than he intended it to be. “Man, that really does something to me.”

“You really know how to charm a girl. Have you figured this Penhaligon’s thing out yet? Was I right?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

She laughed again. “Sorry. Sorry. I’m not great with flirting over the phone. You should know that by now.”

“Then do it with me in person.” he proposed as if it was the easiest solution in the world. As if she wasn’t going to be distracted with thoughts of work and studies enough to not focus on him entirely. And he didn’t deserve to be second best.

It would have been all too easy to allow him to come over. Forget about overthinking things again. There truly was no one better at making her feel good about herself these days. Like, honest, through-the-bone good about herself, whatever that entailed. Goosebumps raised on her skin at the thought.

“I’m pretty whacked to be honest and...”

“What’s going on? Are you feeling alright?” he asked, concern evident in his tone. Whatever he had been pottering about with in the background had stopped all of a sudden.

“Yes! Yeh, I’m fine. Just...I dunno, boring. Plus, it’s Friday night! You should be out with the guys or whatever. Shan said Scott is having issues with Zach again. Is he OK?”

He laughed at her second lame attempt to deflect. He knew something was going on and he knew she knew he wouldn’t give up easily.

“Is Shanna there?” he asked.

“No, she went out with some friends.”

“So why don’t you ask me to come over and I’ll make you feel better than fine?”

She was lucky she was sat down or that her legs were crossed underneath her as she lounged on the couch, her back against the arm rest. His tone was causing her to feel things she shouldn’t be focussing on. What must it feel like to always be confident of your effect on people?

“Do you wanna come over?” she asked, treading lightly, not entirely anxious should he decline.

“I’ll be there in twenty.” He ended the call almost as abruptly as he had dialled it.

She remained where she sat for a moment, Greg’s text message still lighting up her screen. She wasn’t expecting for things to suddenly be so easy for her and it was strange how opening herself up to more possibilities could cause her to feel so immobile.

She would need to move at some point and as a helpless and as confused as she now felt, she knew it would look far too obvious to Chris if she bid to make herself up. She also didn’t really have the energy to do so. Lord, Chris really should have taken the out when he had the chance.

“Have I just walked into a teenage girl’s bedroom?” Chris asked, taking a look around as he entered the apartment not long afterwards. He clearly found the scene amusing although Sarah couldn’t under stand why. It was partly Shanna’s home after all. He should be used to girly mess. “What’s going on?”

“Shan has a date. I was helping her to get ready.” Sarah replied, humourously holding up the hairdryer like a trophy before dumping it back in her bedroom. “Sort of, actually. She doesn’t quite know if it’s a date date or a friend date.”

“I was told those didn’t exist.” Chris smirked, reaching for a bottle of water from her fridge.

“Well, she’s dressed up for one. Looks gorgeous.”

“I think you look gorgeous.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Chris, you don’t need to make any more effort, OK? You’re already in the apartment.”

“I think it bears repeating is all.”

He swallowed half the bottle of water before fixing her with a semi-quizzical stare. He tried to figure out what was going on as he watched her potter around the kitchen table, swiping something away into a cupboard, phone grasped in her hand. “What’s going on? You sounded weird on the phone and now you look like it as well.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” she answered far too quickly and tried to shrug it off but his body language told her he wasn’t buying it. She wasn’t sure what was bothering her more in this moment; him knowing her too well, or that he knew he knew her too well.

“OK, alright, well, it’s Friday night and I’m happy just hanging out and doing whatever but you can also talk to me as well. I’m not a monster.”

“It was her turn to look back at him, unsure of her next move or indeed his. she wondered if he was very likely regretting his decision to meet her now when twenty minutes in the opposite direction would take him to one of his favourite downtown dive bars. Instead, he rested against the side of the kitchen doorway, arms folded, a softness still present in his facial expressions. He seemed hesitant of what to say and she didn’t like the slight awkward air surrounding them. She didn’t want to venture into work-territory either.

“Do you want me to go, Sarah?”

She looked back up at him after a short spell spent staring down at her feet. “No. I don’t want you to leave. I’m just...there’s something...” she paused to re-evaluate her words. “You know what, it’s find. It’s nothing major. Of course I’m glad you’re here now.”

He pushed himself off from the counter and moved towards her, accepting of the greeting smile now covering her face, the bottle of water still in his grip. “Cool. Shall I follow your lead then, or...?”

“Do you wanna watch a movie or something?” she suggested, more casually than he would have liked. She didn’t know what to say to him now that all of her brain space was taken up with possibilities and wanting to call Audrey with the news. Chris hadn’t factored in watching a film but she seemed like she wanted a little peace and quiet and he had pretty much dived into the apartment as soon as she gave him the green light, eager as he was to see her without threat of Shanna walking in at any point.

“Movie sounds good.” He bobbed his head in agreement, content in their surroundings for now.

*

At some point towards the end of Searching, Chris quietly excused himself to go to the bathroom. Realising something was about to happen and not wanting to have to explain it to him after he returned, Sarah put the film on pause and headed into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. She had held him at an arm’s length for most of the night, the couch seeming longer somehow, but was now feeling a slight chill despite the thick sweater reaching midway down her thighs. He would no doubt have been cosy to snuggle up to but she was still pondering Greg’s message and couldn’t concentrate on much else.

Her demeanour hadn’t gone unnoticed by Chris. A couple of times he caught the glare from her phone screen illuminating her face from below and wondered who had gotten her attention this evening. He stopped himself from making an obvious joke and was disappointed that she hadn’t noticed him glance across at her several times during the movie. He wasn’t much interested in watching it. Telling the truth, he’d seen it via a DVD screener Matt had sent him months earlier but she’d mentioned she was looking forward to watching it and in all honesty, he had figured they would curl up together and he would have still gotten something out of it.

“Chris? Do you want a cup of tea?” she hollered from the kitchen doorway. No response for what seemed to be a long, long minute. She switched the kettle off and began pouring him one anyway. She could always drink two if he didn’t want it.

“Chris?” she shouted again.

She walked into the lounge to place the cups down and clocked the bathroom door ajar and seemingly empty. Maybe he left without telling her. In all fairness, she wouldn’t have been surprised or annoyed. She’d barely given him a moment of attention for the last two hours.

She wandered slowly down the hallway first passing Shanna’s bedroom before reaching her own and finding him stretched out across the bottom of her bed. She giggled and leaned on the side of the doorway. He looked rather comfortable. A little too comfortable. Maybe he wanted some company?

“What are you up to, Evans?”

He tilted his head up to find her standing there. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to notice I was gone.” He leaned up further and rested on one arm to fully take sight of her. His eyes appeared a little dopey, a thing that always seemed to give away his nefarious intentions. From the angle he was now lying in, the size of his bicep looked ridiculous. It could not have been an accidental move and she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t working for her.

“Are you bored? You can absolutely go if you have a better offer, I promise I won’t mind.” she offered by way of an apology but he stayed looking at her, not moving or responding to her offer. Being caught under his glare like this was unnerving to say the least. His hair looked a little messy from where he had been lying down yet he still made zero effort to move at all.

“I’m not bored.” He finally spoke, sincerity lacing his voice. “Are you? You seem distracted tonight.”

She didn’t know how to respond except to say he was right and to apologise again. She hadn’t figured out what to say to Greg yet so explaining her thought process to Chris wasn’t going to get her very far. It was times like this, when he was looking at her like that, that she wished she had the confidence to try and shut him up the old-fashioned way.

“Come here...” It was barely a whisper and she would have doubted he had spoken at all if it wasn’t for the hand he was now holding out towards her. He didn’t blink once.

She couldn’t refuse him and moved slowly to stand in the middle of his now-parted legs hanging off the end of the bed as he sat up. She watched as he closed his eyes when he felt her fingers smooth through his hair. There was something so calming about her touch, the deliberate graze of her nails sending little shocks down his spine. He wasn’t normally fussed by a woman playing with his hair even if occasionally he liked it when they pulled on it but something about her slow, tender touch was unlike anything he had felt before.

He moved his hands to the side of her thighs before pulling her legs down to either side of him. “I love looking at you from here.” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her waist making sure she couldn’t get away from him.

She moved in to kiss him, softly at first before she felt his tongue glide along her bottom lip, a wordless request for her to open up. He paused for a second, taking her in while she caught her breath before kissing her deeper than before. She pulled his t-shirt up from the hem and he reached up over his back to grab it and whip it off in record time. Not one of his proudest moments, it caught on his watch as he tried and failed to fling it to the side of them and he made a mental note to try that move again when he felt her chuckle against the side of his neck. He didn’t much mind being a dork in front of her. She knew he wasn’t as cool as he made himself out to be.

His hands found their way into her hair as he caressed the strands out of her face. He loved how silky it felt between his fingers and how faintly it smelled of coconut, her signature smell by now. Her hands gripped his wrists before slowly moving up his biceps and grasping at his shoulders while he pulled her down onto him to allow her to feel how hard he was becoming from her touch. He wanted to know she was only thinking about him. She felt him push up into her core and arousing her even more. His breaths were getting shorter while his hands moved down her sides in an attempt to hook into her leggings and drag them down and off her body. She moved a hand away from his shoulders to help him with his mission but a tapping sound soon broke her from her reverie.

“Wait.” she was still holding on to his arms to steady herself until things went quiet and his hands froze on her waist. Their breathing levelled out quickly and Chris threw her a confused look. “Do you hear something?”

“What?” He gasped. “No, nothing.” He grabbed the back of her head and pulled her back down to kiss him hard. His hands firmly gripped her ass until she was putting pressure back where he wanted it. She quickly forgot what she was thinking about while he moved her slowly along his growing length. He moved one hand up her side, dragging her sweater up with it so his fingers could finally feel her skin underneath. Her hands were pushing down on his chest a bit harder and in a moment that took her by total surprised he quickly flipped them over so she was lying underneath him, completely encased by his strong forearms.

Kissing her was so easy he couldn’t believe he hadn’t done it sooner. Her lips were soft, some of the softest her had ever touched. He figured she kissed like she wanted to be kissed, and he wanted to kiss her back like no boy had ever kissed her before. It was soft and hot and breathy and turning him on immensely. Neither was trying to win a battle but rather seeking and enjoying their closeness, the sharing of this one single sensation, outside world be damned.

The prospect of being uninterrupted was giving him all kinds of ideas. Her breathing was hot against his skin and he knew she was in the zone with him. They’d never particularly been slow and up until this point, he hadn’t much minded but he knew there was some part of her she was holding back and honestly, it was thrilling to him that he was determined to figure her out.

Pinning her underneath, one hand reached down and grazed the inside of her thigh. A little more pressure just over her clit caused her breath to hitch with a sudden squeak ever so slightly until they smiled back into their kiss, tongues massaging together. Honestly, he could carry on doing this for hours if he knew for sure there would definitely be another time they had this opportunity.

She opened her eyes to find him resting so close above her and evidently relishing the way she was lightly tickling the back of his neck with her fingers. Another languid kiss followed before he caught the side of her neck between his teeth and pushed himself against her core, her wetness increasingly apparent to him. She was growing accustomed to his need to tease her like this that she almost missed the scraping sound that had returned, only this time it was louder and sounded like it was coming from just down her hallway. She would have loved nothing more than to continue focussing on the hot breath now ghosting across her neck and shoulders but, panicking, she grudgingly pushed him off her.

“Fuck, what is that?”

Helpless and slightly dazed, all he could do was watch her get up from the bed to stand by the door. With an ear close to the gap, she listened out for another sound. Quieter than before, she swore she heard what sounded like shuffling followed by something being dropped on the ground.

Spying him about to protest, she shook her head. “Nope. Nope, that’s definitely something.” She proceeded to tiptoe out of her room and down the hall towards the kitchen, her bare feet treading ever so lightly and managing to dodge the one creaky floorboard. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting to find but felt a brief surge of confidence knowing the vision of Captain America might alarm whoever was attempting to break in to her home and presumably try to murder them both. He was 6 foot and built like a tank, he could absolutely save them both if push came to shove.

Of course, no one was there that she could immediately see. Maybe something had fallen off the wall instead, or perhaps had been knocked over by a strong breeze coming in via the open window in the lounge? Maybe she was hearing things after all or maybe it was a burglar but they got startled and ran away when they heard footsteps inside. Maybe it was just their neighbour moving around next door but it sounded a little too close for that. She resorted to the only thing she could think of in that moment and picked up a spatula just in case.

Chris was reluctantly putting his t-shirt back on when he followed quietly behind her, shaking his leg to relieve some of the tension in his boxers. Something banged again but this time she was sure it was coming from outside of her front door. He could now hear it as well but wasn’t entirely sure what she was hoping to accomplish with a plastic spatula in her hand.

She held her finger up to her lips to stop him from making any noise and peered through the peephole. She couldn’t see anything. Gingerly, she decided to open the door and jumped backwards when there, on the ground hunched up and leaning against the door frame, was a rathe intoxicated Shanna. Her bag had been emptied in a hurry like she’d been trying to locate her keys, and her coat was falling off her shoulders. She was half-asleep.

Chris snorted from somewhere close behind Sarah unable to contain himself, instantly familiar with the view in front of him. Sarah exhaled with some kind of relief that they were safe from a mass-murderer.

“I don’t believe it...” she spoken quietly.

“I do!” Chris could barely stop the laughter coming out now.

She and Chris moved to help her into the apartment, each grabbing her under one arm. Chris bared the majority of her weight while Sarah carried her bag and as a many contents as she could find. They managed to manoeuvre her into her bedroom where she promptly fell forward, head first, onto her bed,

“Fuckin’ waster,” he laughed heartily before Sarah punched his arm to stop him  from waking her. the room fell silent for a moment before the unmistakeable sound of Shan snoring took over. Chris closed the door behind them before following Sarah to the kitchen where she collected the remaining items that had fallen out of her bag. Picking up her phone, she checked for scratches.

“Well at least she didn’t lose it this time,” she held up the mobile to him but noticed he couldn’t stop grinning. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” he shook his head. “I just wish I’d taken a picture of her. Scott would have a heart attack. Always told her she couldn’t handle her drink!”

“i don’t know how you’d explain getting hold of a photo of her.”

“Oh yeh, good point.” he chuckled in reponse. They regarded each other for a moment, Chris clearly hopeful they could pick up from where they left off.

“I think you should go,” Sarah thought apologetically.

He paused before answering, expecting her to have been joking. “Why? She’s passed out on her bed. She’ll be asleep for hours. Do you have any idea how many times I have seen her like this?”

“Have you any idea how many times I have seen her like this? She’ll wake up in the middle of the night and get into bed with me and it’d be a lot easier to handle if I didn’t have to explain to her why her bother was also there.”

“Sarah, we could throw a rave and she wouldn’t wake up.”

He was making no effort to move, instead fixing her with a stare waiting for her to recognise how ridiculous she sounded. His hands pinched at his hips and he looked a foot taller than before

“Seriously, Chris, you’re just going to have to leave.”

He took a couple of steps towards her, bare feet padding along the hard, cold floor. “I haven’t see you all week.” He moaned, hands reaching out for her hoping the memory of where they had been would be enough to convince her he should stay.

“That’s not true. You saw me the other day.” It was a weak response. Even she knew that.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

She offered back nothing. She had no response. He was disappointed and equally as frustrated with his lack of a decent comeback. He should definitely stay. He should be rocking her world right this moment and whispering filthy things into her ear but instead, all he could do was stand there and shake his head in defeat. When he made eye contact with her again, she looked somehow smaller in some way and he found it hard to continue being frustrated with her. He understood what she was doing as much as he didn’t want to.

Resigned, he shuffled towards her and embraced her in a hug. She felt him semi-hard against her tummy, briefly doubting her choices. It stirred something exciting inside her to think she could make him feel that way and mentally chastised Shanna for cock-blocking her. She felt bad for kicking him out like this.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you.” she whispered.

He loosely pulled away from their hug and looked down at her. He playfully raised an eyebrow and looked down at her lips, still pink and swollen, before chastely planting a kiss on them.

“I am absolutely going to hold you to that.”

*

Shan finally made an appearance the following morning looking like death warmed up. She’d somehow managed to remove her clothes but had a pyjama top on backwards and her hair was sticking out in all directions. She had Sarah’s expert eyeliner and a false lash smudged down one cheek.

Sarah was eating breakfast and checking the news on her phone when she saw the creature from the black lagoon emerge into her kitchen. Stifling a laugh at the sorry sight standing before her, she felt a pang of sympathy seeing every step cause her pain. Shan just pouted at her before taking a seat at the kitchen table, resting her forehead in her hands while Sarah fixed her a glass of juice and some aspirin. She took it gratefully before groaning.

“Remind me never to do shots again.” she stressed. Sarah knew it wouldn’t last, not with that Boston blood coursing through her veins. “Was Chris here last night?”

Sarah froze, a sudden ring clouding her ears. “Erm, no, he wasn’t.” She turned to put her bowl in the sink and tried to hide any blushes. She didn’t know who felt more like shit in this exact moment.

“Oh I could have sworn I heard him is all.” Shan said, more to herself than to anyone else. “God, it’s good he wasn’t. He’d have a ball game seeing me in that state. How awful was I?”

“Not very,” Sarah lied again.

“How did I even get home?” she asked, trying to piece together the flashes of memories that kept racing through her mind.

“Um, I think your friends dropped you off in a taxi and you somehow managed to get up the stairs but then I guess you couldn’t find your keys...?” Shan managed a puzzled look. “You were slumped against the front door.” She refilled her glass with juice. “You’ve been in bed for, like, twelve hours.”

“Shit, we must have started early.”

“Well it happens to the best of us.” Sarah sat next to her and pushed a loose piece of hair out of her sweaty, red face. “Your hair looks OK! I don’t think there is anything stuck in it this time.”

Shanna laughed for the first time before her head panged in revenge.

“So? Did anything happen with Robbie?” Sarah asked, a cheeky grin crossing her face. By the look on Shanna’s face, the answer was a resounding “no” but it could very well have been the alcohol-induced hurricane currently running though her head.

“Well, it was a great night regardless. You’d love the bar. I think we ran into that guy, the porter from your hospital? Pat something? Did you know he plated in a band?”

“Um, no, not at all. Wow.” Sarah was trying to picture Patrick with an array of different instruments to see which suited him before remembering the awkward time he attempted to drum Phil Collins’ ‘In The Air Tonight’ with two scalpels. “Actually, he does seem the type. I’ll have to let Audrey know. She’ll love this.”

“He sounded pretty decent. It’s not just punk music or heavy rock. I think we should all go one night. Maybe as part of Mom’s birthday week.” Shanna perked up a little, proud of the idea that had materialised in her head against all odds. “It’s amazing what people can do when they put some effort in. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? Where you might be now if you just took a chance.”

Following a night of heavy drinking, Sarah wasn’t expecting such an existential conversation at this point in the day. But it was a good point regardless. She grabbed her phone from the table and typed out a message to Greg.

“Yes. I’m in.”

*

[sailorzakuro]

SCD 2020 - Week 1 Thoughts

Oo wow okay last night was gooooood I was quite surprised by the quality of everyone haha so let’s get started!

Jamie and Karen - WAHAY HE FINALLY MADE IT and was it worth the over year long wait? I’d say so 😂. Positives, he had a GREAT use of sharp dynamics and overall his performance felt very clean to me, but negatives he looked so tense idk if that was nerves or what but his shoulders were touching that roof glitterball 😭. Plus there was obviously other issues with his posture but I think they were pretty unfair to him it was pretty good 😂.

Caroline and Johannes - HUN DON’T CRY IT’S OKAY YOU DID GREAT 😭. But WOW I did not expect that from her 😂. I know she wanted to be a dancer when she was younger but holy SHIT I did not expect that 😂. Her GRACE omg she had those dancer hands, she had great posture, her entire body just emulated SMOOOOTH 😂. All I would say, couple of timing issues and some gapping between her and Johannes but other than that HOLY SMEGBALLS THAT WAS AMAZING.

Max and Dianne - Poor lad looked terrified omg but I thought he did well!! He was quite stiff, but that could be a combination of nerves and the whole “tango is sharp and staccato so be that” and it went too far cos that is common 😂. Posture was mainly pretty good, I think a couple more dances and he’ll be really impressive!

Clara and Aljaz - What did I say about the quality of this year WHY IS EVERYONE SO GOOD it was only minor issues cos holy cow she had the ENERGY and she was going for it it was great 😂. Again, minor issues, if her chest came out more then she’d have nicer arm lines on opening, sometimes there was a little lack of control and balance but other than that EVERYONE IS SO GOOD WTF 😂.

Jacqui and Anton - Never mind 😂. OKAY I’M JOKING obviously I’m sure a lot of people never expected much from her but she actually did better than I thought 😂. She was both clearly trying and was terrified so I kind of feel bad for her 😂. Her hold wasn’t too bad, a little lazy but again she was actually trying 😂. It was overall quite lazy and lacked some grace but her timing was pretty good so I’ll give her that 😂.

JJ and Amy - Aww this was so sweet I loved it 😭. He was great!! The only thing I’d say is a lack of absolute grace (but I mean compared to Amy anyone would), but he had great timing, his hold looked amazing, he didn’t miss a step and he looked like he was having the best time of his life so WE LOVE THAT 😂.

Maisie and Gorka - ignoring the fact she’s younger than me As expected this was good! 😂. One TINY criticism is a slight lack of energy in some parts which made those moves look slightly lazy but apart from that PRETTY SOLID 😂. Great timing, got all the steps right, felt the music and did it all smiling, can’t complain 😂.

Jason and Luba - This guy has too much energy for an American Smooth someone get this boy on a latin dance ASAP 😂. But he was pretty good!! Great footwork and great timing, had a great dancer face it was all good 😂. But like I said he has WAY too much energy for ballroom it looked like he was itching to get out of hold and do some of those smooth moves 😂. Also there was some stiffness and his hands looked quite poor but seriously give this boy a latin dance he deserves it 😂.

Ranvir and Giovanni - I was pretty excited for this dance and hey it didn’t disappoint 😂. She really felt the latin Spanish aspect of the dance and RAN with it omg 😂. I definitely did feel there was a lack of dynamics however, she didn’t perform the moves as much which made some of it look quite lazy and stiff, but overall a pretty good effort 😂.

Nicola and Katya - QUEENS sorry I love them 😍. I was hoping for good things from Nicola and SHE FUCKING DELIVERED LIKE AN AMAZON PRIME PACKAGE WOW obviously it wasn’t perfect I’m not gonna sit here pretending it was but HOLY CRAP MAN IT WAS GOOD I’m sorry I love them so much 😂. She was so light on her feet she was just fucking boinging round that dancefloor like Mr Bounce 😂. Also SWITCHING BETWEEN LEADING AND FOLLOWING IN HOLD APPLAUSE PLEASE 👏👏👏👏. It was mostly the upper body where there was issues, her arms weren’t as stable so they looked a bit like they were flailing around out of hold, and obviously the knee slide didn’t slide enough but, a trend with tonight, minor issues, I’m so happy this was so gooooood 😭.

Bill and Oti - I’m about to be biased again cos BILL BAILEY MY MAN 😂. So it wasn’t GREAT 😂. But I don’t think anyone expected it to be 😂. But I don’t think I was expecting that omg 😂. Issues first, obviously his upper body was kind of stiff and all over the place, he needs to push his chest out and get more flow in his arms to create nicer shapes 😂. Then the footwork was... well it was something 😂. But he had energy, he had style, he even had some dynamics in there so WE LOVE YOU BILL 😂.

HRVY and Janette - I don’t think this deserved a 9?? IT WAS GREAT DON’T GET ME WRONG but a 9 might have been a bit much 😂. Positives first, that ENERGY holy cow he basically used all the energy I have in a week in 1 and a half minutes 😂. Also his legs were on POINT (literally), he was hitting every kick like he was dipping his toes into boiling hot water omg 😂. But there are negatives, I felt like his posture was quite poor on top, mainly in his shoulders. Some parts looked quite hunched over and less smooth. His arms also could have been sharper but that is only minor details again 😂. Also rip that mic stand 🌹.

So after all that VERY GOOD START TO THE SERIES you can tell who my favourites are oops 😂. But I think everyone has potential! Looking forward to next week, HOPEFULLY everyone’s dances will switch vibes so we get to see more of what they can do 😂.

[aurmgoldau]

The Fox and the Cat - pt 2

It was settled: Ignitia would up against Li in one round fight.

“Is it really okay?” Li fidgeted. They had five minutes preparation before the fight started. “And why they agree for this …?”

“The bartender is the owner and the one responsible for this place,” Anya replied, lowered her voice. “This place runs an illegal event and she, of course, wants to keep it a secret with all cost. We accidentally discovered her secret. She will certainly want to make sure we shut our mouth, right?”

Li nodded.

“I told her we won’t spill the beans. We’re students and we’re gonna get into trouble if words come out about we visited this place.”

Li nodded again.

“But,” Anya took a glance at Ignitia who stood across them, “there’s no guarantee Ignitia will forget about the incident today. So, I asked the bartender what will settle the problem between us? Will a round of fight with Ignitia do?”

“They agree?”

“Ignitia agreed. A few others encouraged her to accept. She isn’t too well-liked, apparently. Some people want to see her lost.”

“She’s glaring at us ….”

“Yeah. Scary. I wonder what’s her day job.”

“It’s a different ‘scary’ than when Mom is angry.”

“Obviously.”

“Fighters! Get into your position!”

Li took a deep breath. She bit her lip and looked at Anya again.

“I’ll take care of these.” Anya patted Li’s folded vest and scarf. Li was told to leave them out. Accessories and trinkets should be removed to ensure a fair fight. “Your bracelet too.”

The bracelet was the most important one.

“Knock her out when I signal you to do so,” Anya reminded Li.

“Okay.”

The rules were simple enough and similar to any sparring Li had. No weapon, no Semblance. Hitting body area below abdomen was BIG NO. No poking eyes, no clawing, no biting. Punch only, no kicking.

Sometimes Li wondered whether the “no clawing” and “no biting” were emphasized when one of the participants was a Faunus or not. Humans could claw and bite too.

Li ignored Ignitia’s growl and gesture. She focused her attention to the referee.

“And … BEGIN!” The referee step aside.

Ignitia growled and grinned. As expected, she didn’t immediately attack Li.

“Think you can win, scaredy cat? You might win when you’re up against men, perhaps, since they are distracted by your body, huh?”

A year ago, the trick would work and Li would be upset or hesitated. Now, it was different. Nothing could waver Li whenever she was in her “armed and ready” state (not always “armed”, though). Li’s mentor in Haven Academy and one of her mother’s friends trained Li really hard for this.

And, Anya had told Li to leave the “taunt and insult business” for her. Whatever that meant--

“You know what most people think about your body, Miss Ignitia? They are confused why you have asses as your chin and breast.”

Oh my God.

Anya’s voice was loud enough to be heard by everyone in the arena. The crowd went quiet, either they were shocked or afraid that Anya had crossed the line too far.

Li noticed how Ignitia’s expression had changed. She would punch Anya to pulp. Definitely.

“Just ….” Li felt really bad for Ignitia. “Just don’t listen to her ….”

“Need a younger kid to tell you to calm down, champion?” Anya laughed. “How adorable.”

Now Li really wondered how could Mei who was well-planned, well-prepared, well-organized, and well-mannered work together with Anya? Just … how?

“I … I think you should ignore her …,” Li said again. Anya, please don’t say anything.

Anya did not say anything.

Ignitia, however, was already furious and triggered.

“SHUT! UP!”

Li blocked the incoming punch with both arms. That punch was even harder than before. Li stepped back. She blocked the second punch and moved closer to Ignitia to push her back.

Ignitia was heavy. Li didn’t apply enough power to push her. Her defense opened for a split second and Ignitia used it to land a clear hit on Li’s ribs.

The crowd cheered. Ignitia pushed forward. Li parried Ignitia’s left hook and countered with a quick jab. Ignitia didn’t back down. She retaliated with another blow.

Li strafed to her left. Ignitia missed. Seeing a chance, Li leapt forward. She landed another hit, this time on Ignitia’s jaw.

Someone from the crowd shouted. Li didn’t hear it clearly, but it was for her. Something about “get serious”.

Li could get even more serious than this, but Anya told her not to wrap up the fight too soon.

Ignitia surprised Li with her change of target.

Instead of trying to hit Li’s head, Ignitia aimed for her ribs and waist. Li maneuvered around the small arena, so far didn’t get hit. She had to refrain herself from countering with a kick. Kicking wasn’t allowed.

Li stole a glance at Anya. Not yet. A bit longer.

“Oof!”

The crowd broke into another cheers. Li stumbled onto one of the hay bales. That last punch hit her stomach. Clear and hard. Li coughed and winced.

“Hey, you okay?” That was Anya asking.

Li nodded.

“Finish her off if you don’t think you can hold any longer.”

“I’m okay. Really.”

Arslan Atlan, Li’s mentor in Haven Academy had hit her harder than this. Li had been through quite some fights and each of them made her both tougher and stronger.

Ignitia wasn’t close enough to any fights against Beringels. Maybe if Li played around before defeating the gorilla Grimms, it would be close enough.

Filled to the brim with confidence, Ignitia’s attack became more intense. She kept closing her distance and barraged Li with punches. If Li’s guess was right, Ignitia tried to wear Li down and knock her out with a finishing blow.

Li put some distance with Ignitia again.

“Take a break, kid?” Ignitia panted. “Well, you deserve it for enduring the fight for this long.”

Li looked at Anya. The pink-haired girl shrugged and snapped her fingers.

That was the signal.

Li put her stance again and walked closer to Ignitia. The woman noticed the change of pace and braced herself.

It was a few milliseconds late. Apparently, Ignitia was the one who wore herself down and lowered her guard.

Once Li got Ignitia in her range, she launched her punch. Unlike her previous attacks, Li put more strength in this one. Her fist landed on Ignitia’s lower jaw. It wasn’t a bone-shattering one like Li did on the Grimms, but it had enough power to incapacitate Ignitia. The woman’s body tumbled and collapsed on a hay bale.

The underground arena went silent. The referee rushed to check on Ignitia’s condition. She started counting to ten and Ignitia stayed still, not moving beside breathing.

Li wasn’t too focused when the referee announced her as the winner. Instead of cheers, she heard polite claps from the spectators.

Anya winked when Li looked at her. And there, she put her “foxy grin” again.

***

“Let’s go somewhere before we return to Patch. You like fish and seafood, right?”

Li and Anya had left the Industrial District and arrived safely at the friendlier Commercial District. It was around two o’clock in the afternoon. Li usually had her lunch around twelve or one, but she wasn’t too hungry after that … “workout” in Amazon’s Den.

“Any kind of seafood.” Li nodded. “Fish included.”

“How about having ‘sushi date’? The two of us.” Anya chuckled. “My treat. Let’s celebrate your first win in the underground arena.”

“Sushi is … expensive.”

“Well ….” Anya took her wallet and showed it to Li. There were a lot of Lien cards. “Betting all of my money on you was the best decision.”

“You—what?” Li gaped. “You—sorry—what?”

“They think it’s fun to open a bet on your fight against Ignitia.” Anya shrugged. “Your odds was high and I’m confident you’re going to win, so, of course, I put all my money on you.”

Li had totally no idea what to say. Too many wrong things happened. “Wrong” in Li’s judgement, at least. First, the fight and second, the betting.

However, the “sushi date” was a good thing. Li had been curious about sushi restaurant. She could find affordable packaged sushi in store, but most of them used processed fish meat. There were a lot of sushi restaurants in Mistral, since the food came from that region, but Li hadn’t had any chance to visit any. Besides, she was the only one who were fond of sushi in the team.

Apparently, eating sushi was new for Anya. It was amusing to watch her try to figure out things when Li knew everything about sushi thanks to her grandma.

“Your hand trembles.” Li couldn’t help not smirking at the scene.

“Oh, shut up. I don’t need your comment.” Anya tried to pick sushi with chopsticks for the third time. “I’m doing my best here.”

“Eating sushi with chopsticks isn’t an obligation.” Li took another plate from the conveyor belt in front of her.

“It isn’t?”

“Using your hand is perfectly acceptable.”

“But the sauce?”

“You just need to dip them, not drown them. Granma said so.”

Anya’s sushi slipped miserably into her sauce plate. Li couldn’t hold her laugh any longer.

“Here.” Li borrowed Anya’s chopsticks. She salvaged most of the drowned sushi to empty plate. “You shouldn’t dip the rice side, by the way. When soaked with the sauce, the rice will fall apart.”

“So, instead … how should I do it?”

It didn’t take too much time for Li to teach Anya the basics of eating sushi properly. It was quite fun too, teaching people. No wonder Li’s grandma taught her a lot of things from Mistral culture, from table manners to cloth pattern symbolism.

“Mei made the same mistakes like you, by the way.” Li poured more sauce in her plate.

“Really? I thought she knew all kinds of table manners from all around Remnant.”

“She doesn’t know as much as I do about Mistral.”

“That’s a surprise.”

Li nodded. “And … I was wondering when we were at the bar, about how could you get along with Mei. Both of you are too different.”

“Most of the time, I make sure I know what she thinks and she knows whatever I think.” Anya chuckled. “Mei scolded me a lot too, you know. For being too reckless or too chaotic.”

“I think you’re getting along because both of you like to learn new things,” Li said.

Anya sipped her cold tea. “Hmm … now that you mention it. Maybe? We both have our own need to know as many things as possible.” Anya gently poked her sushi. “Though, we’re on an entirely different level. Like, Mei is the tuna sushi and I’m the egg sushi.”

Li took the egg sushi passed in front of her. “Have you tried the egg one?”

“You said they are for the last.”

“Yeah, but try it.”

Anya almost picked the sushi using chopsticks again, but then she remembered and picked it with her hand. She looked surprised after the first bite.

“It isn’t like any fried egg,” Anya said.

“Better than fried egg,” Li emphasized.

“Yeah ….” Anya took another bite. “It’s really soft and sweet.”

“Do you know it’s layered? Look.”

“Oh! It is! I didn’t notice!”

“Maybe you’re right to compare yourself with sushi. Both Mei and you have different … complexities? Different background, different purposes. But both are good in their own way, I think.”

“I never thought of it that way.” Anya nodded and ate another sushi. “That’s a good point.”

Li paused. She never had this kind of conversation with her mother, Yang, her teammates, her grandparents, or Mei. This was the first time. And even though it was unusual to use food as a way to put ideas and thoughts, it worked. Li kinda liked this conversation. It let her discover things without punching or being punched.

“Aah, now I know why Mei complained about you growing up.” Anya suddenly laughed.

“She isn’t taller than me anymore,” Li sighed. “Even with her shoes on, I’m still taller than her.”

“It’s not just your height. You’re stronger, more confident, and the way you stepped between me and Ignitia back then is something the small Li won’t do.”

“Well … things happened. I guess.” Li’s cat ears flattened on her head. “Mei doesn’t like it.”

“She will have to accept it eventually.” Anya took another squid sushi.

“Anya, do you know squid has high cholesterol amount?”

“I … I don’t.”

“No, don’t put it back on the belt.” Li took the plate from Anya’s hand. “I’ll have one. Don’t take another squid.”

“Thanks.” Anya grinned. “See? You’ve grown up. I think seeing you grown up is too shocking for Mei. Someone she usually protects has become someone who can protect her. It’s not just about the height difference.”

“Really?” Li was relieved to hear that.

“That’s what I thought. If that’s not the case, let me convince Mei to believe that way.”

“There’s no way you can do that.”

“Who knows?” Anya grinned and took out her Scroll. “I’m in the mood to tease her now. Do you think she’ll make a fuss if I send her our pic together?”

“She will.” Li smiled.

“Great. Let’s do it.”

[makeste]

BnHA 235: How Do I Turn This Flashback Off

Previously on BnHA: Re-Destro plucked off three of Tomura’s left fingers like flower petals and also destroyed one of his Emotional Support Hands in the process, prompting Tomura to have more flashbacks. We learned that AFO specifically gave Tomura the hands so that Tomura would never get over the trauma of the whole experience (like, he even told him this directly, wtf). We then got more flashbacks of Hana, as well as new flashbacks of Tomura’s mother and grandparents. Our boy then started to use his quirk on RD with only two fingers, which prompted RD to be all “wha?!” and let him go and finally realize that Tomura was going through a good old-fashioned shounen awakening process. Not wanting to be on the wrong end of this, he powered up himself and tried to finish Tomura off. But as he tried (and failed) to deliver a final blow, Gigantomachia finally came storming into town. At the same time, Tomura finally remembered everything (!!!) and got this really sad look on his face, and holy shit you guys the hype for this next chapter is real.

Today on BnHA: The tragic story of the Shimura family is finally revealed in all of its inevitably doomed glory. This chapter deserves an introduction from Lemony Snicket. This is not a fun time you guys. Baby Tenko was pure and idealistic and wanted nothing more than to be a hero just like All Might (and hey thanks Horikoshi, that was a nice heart I had once before you ripped it out and stabbed it 27 times here), and his father was a bitter and broken man harboring unresolved abandonment issues which he needlessly took out on his own children because humans are flawed and sometimes terrible. And we all know how the story ends, so if you happen to not have the stomach to watch terrified little boys being beaten by their parents, or cute little dogs getting hugged and then crumbled to dust offscreen, or if you don’t feel like getting faked out by Horikoshi half a dozen times because he’s a fucking troll who knows full well what he’s doing, might I suggest putting this chapter down and taking a stroll on over to the theater next door? It’s not too late to see a film about a happy little elf.

(All comments are my unspoiled reactions from my initial readthrough of the chapter. I did a quick edit for grammar and clarity immediately afterward, and added one or two ETAs in the process, but aside from that there are no changes.)

  YESSSSSSSSS

YOU GUYS, I HAVEN’T EVEN FUCKING CLICKED TO THE CHAPTER YET AND MY HYPE HAS ALREADY ASCENDED TO NEW UNPRECEDENTED HEIGHTS. DID I NOT SAY??

AND LO AND BEHOLD, MY GD MIND IS BEING LOST AS WE SPEAK OMG

anyways so yeah I fucking called this back in chapter 222, along with a zillion other people I’m sure. but still, feels good

and this officially makes Tenko the fourth character to receive an “origin” chapter now, after Deku (chapter 01), Shouto (chapter 39), and Katsuki (chapter 62). so that’s actually a pretty big deal! this whole thing just makes me really happy because I love seeing such a carefully planned character arc come together, and it’s so pleasing and gratifying to see the pieces falling into place exactly as they should. it’s like watching one of those “oddly satisfying” youtube compilations. this is the manga equivalent of this. god I can’t wait to watch it play out

anyway so here’s the color spread we were promised last week! awesome

look at all of these characters we haven’t seen in a couple months. it’s a testament to how thoroughly entertaining this arc has been that I haven’t missed class 1-A nearly as much as I would have expected. which isn’t to say I don’t miss them dearly! but it’s just, normally I’d be practically going through withdrawals if you took my favorite characters away for such a long time. and I mean, we cut away right when Kacchan and Shouto had finally gotten their hero licenses, and Deku was going through “AFO’S POWER!?!?” angst, and so forth! and then we just left them for almost half a fucking year! that’s insane!!

but like, the shocking thing to me is that I genuinely have been pretty cool with it. that’s how compelling this arc has been to me. it’s nothing at all like the Basement Arc where I was all but ready to start slapping posters of Bakugou’s face on the walls asking “HAVE YOU SEEN THIS CHILD?” like, I am sincerely shocked to tell you the truth. this arc could go on for another month or two and I probably wouldn’t mind, so long as the quality remained this high. and that’s the biggest compliment to Horikoshi that I can think of. good fucking job dude

that being said, I don’t think this arc will continue much longer, and it is awesome to see the 1-A kids again all the same, so let’s just take in this page real quick before finally getting on to the Tragic Tenko Memories action

I like how Bakugou and Deku have both incorporated elements from their hero costumes into their orange ensembles for no real reason. but they are literally the only two characters who have done this, so I feel it’s worth pointing out

speaking of things that are there for no real reason, Bakugou also has a string tied around his ankle just completely at random. someone want to tell me what’s up with this? should I start inspecting the other characters’ ankles to see if there is a matching one

Mineta looks super cute, there I said it. I’m sorry but it’s true. let’s just cut him out of the rest of the manga moving forward and only have him randomly hovering in the background every so often. Mineta you can’t fly so what are you even doing dude

All Might is just completely defying gravity. just standing on absolutely nothing at all at a 45-degree lean. everyone else who’s mid-air is at least in the process of jumping or landing. but not All Might, no ma’am. he just doesn’t give a fuck

I see you there Inasa. up there spreading joy. and lest you guys believe Seiji and Camie were left out, let me assure you they were not and they are actually chilling over on a bridge just below Bakugou’s mystery bracelet. so that’s nice and also I still ship them yep

Miruko is here which gives me hope we’ll be seeing more of her soon! yes please Horikoshi do this for me

Hawks has no right to look so bored when he so recently texted Dabi a picture of a backpack sitting on his front porch with the caption “your package from Amazon has been delivered.” you are the reason Best Jeanist isn’t in this cover spread, Hawks, so what do you have to say for yourself

Todoroki has the fondest fucking expression on his face, and if you follow his gaze I swear to god it’s landing on Bakugou of all fucking people which makes me believe that contrary to everyone’s initial expectations, he is the one who actually has the matching ankle bracelet. that’s right kids, it was TodoBaku all along, we’ve all been played. either that or he’s looking at Tokoyami. idk guys the whirlwind teenage romance drama continues

anyways I hope everyone is good and cheered by this page, because we’re about to step back into our bleak and violent villain narrative now so say goodbye

okay so the first page is basically just RD thinking about how he’s refined his “stress” ability since childhood and that it can’t be dodged easily, but Tomura still managed to do it

and then we’re cutting to Tomura’s face which has the same sort of weary shell-shocked expression we ended the last chapter on, and ffff you guys I’m not ready but here we go anyway I guess

hooooooly shit

that is some good dramatic imagery. can’t wait to see Viz’s version when it comes out; that last panel definitely deserves to be seen in its fully restored glory

but anyway, so! that’s the Papa Hand! he just took it out of his pocket! and now he’s just holding it and staring at it! SHIT’S ABOUT TO GET REAL HERE YOU GUYS. THE SHIT IS ABOUT TO BUST THROUGH THE WALL AND WATASHI GA KITA THIS BITCH

why does he look so happy oh god :’D this is about to fuck me up isn’t it

so he remembered all the details of the Shimura Massacre and now he’s thinking that he really is just a vicious killing machine? is that what it is? oh god Horikoshi just show us already I can’t take it

but first we’re cutting to Re-Destro posing villainously and looking for all the world like that demon from the “Night on Bald Mountain” segment in Fantasia. I don’t know if it’s intentional or not, but the art for RD these last couple chapters has been giving me a strong old-school Disney animation vibe. they came up with some scary stuff back in the day

Horikoshi really got us rooting for the guy who’s arguing for the destruction of the world. smdh. like I said, we’re being played

OH NO OH SHIT HERE WE GO

okay, without knowing anything at all about the context of this scene, I immediately suspect that this shadowy man tipping his hat toward Tenko and Mama Shimura might be All for One up to his bullshit but let’s see

(ETA: this is probably Mikkun and/or Tomo-chan’s dad actually. but I’m still watching you, mister.)

oh shit oh shit oh shit you guys aahhsdfhshah

SHIMURA KOTARO. THERE HE IS, AT LONG LAST. NANA’S SON OMGGGGG

HE LOOKS SO MUCH LIKE HER AND YET HE’S SO STERN AND UNFRIENDLY. WHERE IS THE TRADEMARK SHIMURA SMILE, OH GOD I’M NOT READY FOR THIS ANGST

let me guess, it was a “in this house we don’t speak the H-word” rule. with the four-letter h-word in this case not being what you might typically expect

also! black hair! so that’s also confirmed! so I guess it changed color due to his trauma? oh god

and you can see he’s got the little scratches which were hinted at in the previous chapter, but they’re not nearly as bad yet. I have to assume that habit got much worse also due to the trauma. oh god. again

I haven’t watched that new HBO show about Chernobyl yet, but I feel like this is kind of what it must be like? knowing full well that Very Bad Things are about to go down but not being able to do anything and having to just watch as it all plays out. shit

anyways yep. no h-word allowed

so he was five! one whole year older than I thought omg. my mistake

in other news guys, I’m currently researching how to build a machine that will let me enter a fictional two-dimensional world and then travel back in time in that world to rescue and adopt a small child who needs lots of hugs omfg anyway so if anyone wants to help me out I think it’s a worthwhile endeavor

...why did I laugh omg. Tenko why is your dad the most dramatic bitch

(ETA: in all seriousness I think we should investigate the possibility of the Shimuras being distantly related to the Todorokis.)

HIS ALLERGIES ARE ACTING UP DAD HAVE A FUCKING HEART

anyways it’s all good because Hana will go visit him and they’ll sneak into dad’s office and she’ll show him the picture of their grandma to cheer him up. and then I’m sure eventually his dad will see reason and they’ll sort out their issues and they’ll all live happily ever after. la la la

so now Grandma is suggesting that Kotaro has maybe been a little too harsh on Tenko lately. yes Grandma make him see reason please

also I’m really curious as to whether or not Grandma is Kotaro’s adopted mom, or Tenko’s maternal grandma. if she is the adopted mom I love her even more and that makes me even sadder about their deaths, because they took in this boy whose mother basically abandoned him and then later DIED HORRIBLY, and they did their best to raise him with love, only for AFO to come along and eventually murder the lot of them which is so fucked up I can’t even. they deserved better

Kotaro has such a jaded look in his eyes here that it’s hard for me to be mad at him at all even though he’s being a jerk dad

he’s had a really rough life. yes he’s being a jerk but he thinks he’s doing what’s best for his children though. fml why is this shit so complicated

okay this next page is kind of conflicting on the are-they-or-aren’t-they-his-adopted-parents thing sob

like on the one hand, he literally calls them mom and dad. but then two panels down Tomura says they’re his parents-in-law. so what is the truth. maybe it’s not him talking to them in that first panel? or maybe he’s just really tight with his in-laws idk

anyway so now we’re cutting to Tenko and his mom, and this is the sweetest thing ever and why are you doing this to me Horikoshi!?

FFFF OKAY BUT!!

BABY TENKO’S LIL TRAIN SET OMG SO CUTE. AND IS THAT A PLATE OF ONIGIRI ON THE TABLE. TENKO YOU MADE A MESS AND YOU DIDN’T EVEN FINISH IT, SUCH A TYPICAL FIVE-YEAR-OLD OMG

THEY DON’T KNOW WHAT KIND OF ALLERGY IT IS?? AND IT ONLY ACTS UP WHEN HE’S AT HOME. THIS IS SUSPICIOUS AS FUCK. WHAT KIND OF FOUL PLAY IS GOING ON. OR IS IT JUST STRESS?

MOM SECRETLY SUPPORTS HIS DREAM TO BE A HERO AND HE’S OPEN WITH HER ABOUT IT I CAN’T

MIKKUN AND TOMO-CHAN! OH MY GOD DID YOU GET INTO A FIGHT TO DEFEND YOUR FRIENDS AND THAT’S WHY YOU GOT INTO TROUBLE I FUCKING CAN’T HE WAS SUCH A GOOD BOY. HE REMINDS ME SO MUCH OF DEKU HERE HOLY SHIT

(ETA: they even look alike.)

cuuuuuuuuuuuute

OH MY GOD

SHIMURA TENKO WAS AN ALL MIGHT FAN CONFIRMED OMFG?!

you guys. that is a lot of emotions that just hit me all at once holy shit. where do I even begin

first of all this continues the pattern of “origin” chapters showing how the characters in question admired All Might when they were growing up. we’re 4 for 4 as of now. I love this

second, it just hit me like bam to learn that Tenko felt drawn to All Might, knowing how they’re actually connected. All Might doesn’t even know (yet) that Nana had a grandson, and Tenko has no idea that his childhood hero is actually his grandmother’s protege. and yet he still winds up admiring him even without that knowledge. pow right in the feels

and lastly, I wouldn’t have thought this whole situation could get any more fucked up, and yet Horikoshi still managed it! Tenko goes from looking up to All Might and wanting to be like him, to hating him and wanting nothing more than to hurt and destroy him. fucking ouch you guys. god but that one hurts

oh and also you better believe I immediately went to the wiki to see if there were any characters around Tomura’s age whose first names might believably be condensed to Mikkun or Tomo-chan. specifically, I went to Miruko first because I wasn’t sure if she was one of those characters whose hero name was similar to her actual name! but sadly her actual name is Rumi. so much for my “Miruko and Tomura were childhood friends” theory which lasted for all of two seconds but was a wild ride while it did

you guys baby Tenko has the chubbiest little boy legs lmao I love him so much oh god. and also on a more serious note this makes presentday!Tomura’s almost emaciated appearance all the more jarring. tack on yet another reason to hate AFO to the list. it’s getting to be a really long list

the parallels between him and Deku are off the fucking charts you guys. this is getting ridiculous. god I’m so weak for this kind of storytelling dfsldkjfk

don’t think I didn’t notice the enormous rack you went and gave Tenko’s mom, Horikoshi. but you know what I’m going to allow it because this is just so fucking good and also because for once he’s being pretty subtle about it all things considered

adult!Tomura’s narration is shockingly insightful here

like, he’s so in touch with his five-year-old emotions, and also his understanding of how this all affected him in hindsight. that’s a lot of self-awareness for a guy who only just remembered all of this like thirty seconds ago

doesn’t Tomura have like a 5/5 on the intelligence score according to the character book? for a longest time I was really skeptical about that, but the more I see of him in this arc the more I see that it’s not just talk

oh my goddddddddd

LOOK AT HIS FACE OH MY GOD. he’s fucking entranced. you can tell he’s instantly captivated by her

HORIKOSHI NO, WHY

GODFUCKINGDAMMIT I DIDN’T ASK FOR THIS YOU BASTARD

son of a bitch. well now I’m more subscribed than ever to the theory of Hana also surviving and being taken in by AFO in secret. she can’t be dead! she wanted to be a hero just like him! brother and sister heroes! Horikoshi I s2g if you really did kill her off I’m going to kick your ass. this is the exact spot where I’m drawing the line. this is how much angst you are allowed to have. right up to here and that’s it. the rest of the family can be dead, whatever, it’s sad and it’s fucked up, but don’t you dare touch Hana or I will...!!

and they promised. they made a brother-sister promise about what they were going to be when they grew up! and Tomura only just now remembered it! lord help me this boy is going to need all the therapy after this

OH NO

THAT DAY oh my god this is it strap yourselves in kids, we’re about to luge down this icy hill of Dead Family Feels and I don’t know how to fucking luge you guys

he’s so fucking happy. I’m so fucking stressed rn

oh GOD

TENKO DON’T MOVE!! DON’T TOUCH ANYTHING! OH GOD. HOW DO I TURN THIS FLASHBACK OFF THAT’S IT WE GOOD I’VE SEEN ENOUGH!!

LDSKFHHHH

KOTARO NO GO AWAY, EVEN IF YOU’VE BEEN A JERK DAD YOU DON’T DESERVE THIS AND TENKO DOESN’T DESERVE THIS, AND GOD, ALL FOR ONE CAN FUCKING BURN IN HELL, THIS IS SO FUCKED UP

AHHHHHH

OH GREAT THE WHOLE FUCKING FAMILY IS RIGHT THERE! JUST FUCKING PERFECT. THIS IS ALL GOING TO END SO FUCKING WELL I CAN’T

OH SHIT

KOTARO YOU’RE SUDDENLY CANCELLED YOU FUCKING DICK, BUT YOU STILL DIDN’T DESERVE TO DIE, BUT HOLY SHIT YOU SUCK!!! I DIDN’T ACTUALLY THINK YOU’D REALLY GO THROUGH WITH IT BUT I GUESS I WAS GIVING YOU TOO MUCH CREDIT YOU RAT BASTARD

I’M GLAD MAMA SHIMURA IS YELLING AT HIM NOW BUT I ALSO HAVE A TERRIBLE FEELING THAT HER RUNNING TO INTERVENE IS GOING TO SPARK A CHAIN REACTION, GIVEN WHAT’S ABOUT TO HAPPEN OH GOD

(ETA: or maybe I gave her too much credit. turns out there was no intervening to speak of.)

anyway so now Kotaro is yelling “that’s not your grandma!”, and I can’t decide if this is anger or something else on his face in this moment, which unbeknownst to him is one of the final moments of his life hahaha sob somebody help me how do I stop this ride

also Mon-chan keeps barking and I know that’s going to end really badly in just a moment as well ugh. it’s like those final few seconds after a grenade rolls into a room and everyone sees that the pin is missing and they know what’s about to happen but they can’t do anything to stop it. we’re all gonna die folks

oh no it actually was Something Else on his face oh fuck me

I’m fucking furious at Horikoshi right now for pulling this shit again and giving this scene so much complexity. there’s so much going on here that we’re never even going to get the chance to unpack because it’s all about to go to shit. and Kotaro is an absolute bastard, but he’s also a man who’s still reeling from the pain of being abandoned by his own mother and never came to terms with that. and yet that absolutely does not make this okay in the slightest, at all, and it’s abundantly clear that he is still very much the bad guy here and that what he’s doing is unforgivable. I just really like that he went and gave him this much depth despite him playing such a despicable role here. god BnHA is so good

anyway back to being devastated

HE LOOKS SO FUCKING TERRIFIED AND I’M SO MAD ABOUT EVERYTHING RIGHT NOW HE DIDN’T DESERVE THIS!!!

MOTHERFUCKER HERE IT COMES

[takes a deep breath and clicks to the next page!!]

hey what the

not the panel I was expecting with Tenko reaching out defensively and touching his father and accidentally turning him to ash while the rest of the family shrieks in fear and shock, but okay. I can’t say I was exactly looking forward to seeing that so I’ll take it!

oh Horikoshi. you see, this is exactly the type of shit I’m talking about

okay Kotaro, I can feel sorry for you in this moment and sympathize with the child-you who did not deserve that at all, and also feel yet more rage toward AFO for utterly destroying this family. but that doesn’t mean I don’t absolutely hate you at the same time for what you did to your son. it’s just like that. you had reasons but you’re still a dick. just BnHA character things

Horikoshi why oh my god

RIP SHIMURA FAMILY YOU DESERVED BETTER AND YOU WILL BE AVENGED!!

and yet all the same that does not make it right for you to take out your pain and frustration on your helpless five-year-old son! YOU FUCKED UP KOTARO. but this next page is still going to hurt oh god

[takes another deep breath!!]

oh okay we’re still drawing it out

-- holy shit, wait a sec. is this all taking place after? wait a fucking second

okay you guys holy shit, I just went back to the “house my father built” page and it is very clearly segueing into another flashback. like, in hindsight it’s obvious, but these aren’t actually Tenko’s memories any more. I think what happened was that Kotaro actually did hit Tenko another couple of times and then that was it, and then it cut back to this scene here which is actually taking place after that incident

which means Tenko’s memories were indeed tampered with then if my hunch is right!! let’s read on, but I’m pretty sure AFO is about to come along and murder the shit out of these folks, holy shit is this really happening?!

okay so Mama Shimura is telling Kotaro that she’s done following his rules

like, I’m glad she’s standing up for her children but I really wish she’d rip him a new one much more severely than this though

though he does seem genuinely regretful. but that’s hardly helpful now?? girl just take the kids and leave

oh no we’re cutting back to Tenko and he’s hugging Mon-chan out in the backyard and it’s nighttime now noooooooo

all right, for the third fucking time I’m going to take a deep fucking breath and turn the page holy shit you guys this chapter is taking years off my life

ffff ffff ffffffff

(((╹д╹;)))

(⁽⁽ ⁰ ⁾⁾ Д ⁽⁽ ⁰ ⁾⁾;;;)

(φ Д φ )

...well shit

parting thoughts:

I’m okay with this being the only bit they show and not getting any more detail. please for once don’t give us any more detail, Horikoshi, holy fuck

though if we don’t actually see anything, part of me is still going to suspect AFO of directly interfering right up until the end of the series. the whole thing just comes together too perfectly for him. there’s no fucking way

I still 100% believe he gave Tenko the quirk, too. especially now that we know he was quirkless until age five. we’ve previously established that if a child hasn’t evolved a quirk by that age it almost always means they’re quirkless for life. Horikoshi thinks he’s smooth trying to play it off like Tenko was a tragic late bloomer but WE KNOW THE TRUTH. I will go down with this theory damn it

I would say this is easily the single most fucked up thing we have seen in this series up to this point, but I see Horikoshi eyeing the upcoming Noumu plotline and the tragic tale of Tsubasa and his fucked up mad scientist grandpa and looking for somebody to hold his beer, so. I’ll just keep my mouth shut, I think

anyways this chapter was amazing and terrifying and I can’t wait to see how Tomura’s story moves forward from here. happy 5th anniversary of BnHA, y’all

[rosesupposes]

Making Chinese Take Out to Propose to My Boyfriend (Newsiestober Day 25)

Albert is a YouTuber with a cooking channel. Finch comes home from work to find the kitchen an absolute mess. 

Please enjoy this poorly edited Jenna and Julien inspired Redfinch fic written for Newsiestober Day 25: favorite ship.

Read on AO3.

Finch opened the door to his and Albert's apartment slowly and quietly. Albert had texted him a little camera emoji to let Finch know he was filming, and, while Finch wouldn't interrupt him as long as he was sufficiently quiet, he had startled Albert on more than one occasion by coming into the apartment too fast. The layout of their apartment meant that the front door opened right into the large room that included both their living room and their kitchen, putting it in perfect view of Albert for most of the time he was filming.

Or in this case, giving Finch the perfect view of Albert sitting on the counter and scrolling through his phone next to a camera that was most definitely pointed towards the door.  "Al?" he asked, a little unsure, taking in the mess Albert had apparently left the kitchen in as he set down his keys and his work bag. "Why does it look like a tornado went through the kitchen?"

Albert looked up from his phone, grinning. "Finch!" He set his phone down and jumped down from the counter, crossing the living room over to Finch. "Hi, I need you to be in my video, please?" He kissed Finch on the cheek and gave him his best puppy dog eyes.

Finch laughed and let Albert drag him into the kitchen, to the other side of the island counter and Albert's normal filming set up. Albert pulled Finch in front of the camera where they adjusted themselves in the viewfinder until the frame looked about the same as it usually did when Finch joined Albert for his videos. There were various bowls and pans scattered around the countertops and the kitchen smelled vaguely like Asian food. "Don't tell me there's this many bowls and no edible food."

"Shut up, asshole," Albert answered, even as he still grinned up at Finch. "It's in the microwave staying warm because someone was late."

Finch couldn't help but to lean down and kiss his boyfriend. "It's real rude of you to be late to your own video, Al, not sure how you managed it."

Al rolled his eyes but turned toward the camera and and put his hand on Finch's chest. "So now that my Bert is here, we can finish this video."

"Hi! I have no idea why I'm here," Finch told the camera.

"If you don't know, this is my boyfriend, Finch. I call him my Bert because someone made a Albert and Ernie joke once but he's the one who wears vertically striped sweaters." It was more introduction than Finch usually got on Al's channel but he nodded through it and rolled his eyes at Albert's joke. "Okay, you're just tasting what I made so guess what it is.

Finch hummed as he glanced around the kitchen. Despite the open cabinets and otherwise tornado-like mess, Albert had left no actual ingredients or packaging out which meant that Finch had no good clues. "Italian?" he asked, mostly to mess with Albert. Albert's Italian videos almost always came with Race attached. 

Albert tapped the back of his head lightly but didn't actually look annoyed. "Try again."

"Well, something with a lot of soy sauce. Ooh! Did you finally try that egg roll recipe lola sent you?"

"I told you, that's for your birthday. Guess again."

Finch closed his eyes and hummed, a little extra dramatic for the camera and for Al. It really was mostly soy sauce he was smelling but it smelled more like take out than anything else. He turned to Albert and grinned, trying to convey that he was joking. "Did you order take out to prank me for a video?"

Albert rolled his eyes. "No but you're close. I did make Chinese takeout." Albert went to the microwave and pulled out several white takeout containers.

"Did you buy takeout containers for this video?"

"Amazon Prime, baby." Albert set the containers down in front of them and then pulled a wax bag with some spring rolls from the microwave as well. "There's cashew chicken and beef and broccoli," he explained, handing Finch a set of chopsticks. "And some rice, of course."

"Awww, like our first date." Finch grinned at his boyfriend and took the carton of cashew chicken he was offered. He turned back to the camera as Albert opened more cartons, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. 

"Wasn't our first date," Albert said.

"Guys," Finch said to the camera, "Chinese food was absolutely our first date and Albert has been wrong about it for the entire seven years of our relationship. He invited me to get Chinese food and go to a movie and he meant to ask as a date but he chickened out. So he wanted it to be a date and I thought it was a date but he still insists it wasn't. It was though."

"Because I didn't ask. And you didn't ask either. It wasn't a date." 

Finch rolled his eyes dramatically for the camera's sake and then took a bite of the cashew chicken. "Oh shit- this can't be legal."

"It's good?"

"Yeah, Ern, it's the best cashew chicken I've had since we moved to the city. You have beef and broccoli?"

After Finch had tried the beef and broccoli and the spring rolls- and gone back to the cashew chicken because it was his favorite- Albert turned away from the camera and pulled a tray from the oven. "I made one more thing actually. You can't have Chinese without fortune cookies."

Finch tried not to laugh when Albert set down the tray in front of him, he really did, but it was hard to resist. There was indeed a tray full of fortune cookies but maybe three of them were actually the right shape. 

"Go ahead," Albert said. "Laugh. I know they're terrible."

"No, they look great!" Finch assured him. "They look perfectly baked. They're just misshapen."

"Here, you have the good one. They may be the wrong shape but they do have fortunes." Albert handed him just about the only cookie that actually looked like a fortune cookie. "These were way too hard."

Finch took the cookie and snapped it in half. "You didn't learn anything from that episode of the Bake Off- Oh." The little paper in the cookie read Will you marry me? in Albert's neatest handwriting. When Finch turned to Al, he wasn't standing next to him but kneeling on the floor, a ring box open in his hand. "Oh my god."

Albert grinned at him, suddenly a little shy and a little teary. "I had a whole thing I was gonna say but I just forgot all of it. The important part is that I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And I know we'll do that anyway but it'd be cool if the government knew too.  Will you marry me?"

They'd talked about marriage- they'd been together for seven years, of course they'd talked about it- but Finch hadn't thought it'd come so soon or that Al would be the one to get down on one knee and be so emotional about it.

"Yes, of course, Al. I could spend a million lifetimes with you and still be ready for a million more." Finch pulled Albert up from his knee and kissed him. When he pulled back he couldn't help but grin, leaning his forehead against Albert's. "We're getting married."

"You might have to put on the ring first."

Finch laughed and so did Albert. Finch offered his hand and Albert slid on the ring, a darker metal with a streak of gold. It was exactly what Finch had talked to Race and JoJo about wanting- something simple but unique and bright to remind him of Albert. "We're getting married," he repeated and kissed Albert again.

"Heck yeah, we are."

-

Making Chinese Takeout to Propose to my Boyfriend

October 25, 2019

Albert DaSilva

6.62M Subscribers

-

October 18, 8:12am

The video opens on Albert, with bedhead and bleary eyes, looking very much like he just woke up. "Hey, guys, welcome to today's video. It's gonna be a vlog one more than anything else. I'm proposing to Finch today, which I'm really excited and nervous about obviously." Al yawned and then looked back to the camera. "Sorry, Finch just left for work and I made him think I was sleeping in but I have a grocery delivery scheduled for half an hour from now and a lot of work to do so I'm going to get in the shower and shave. So yeah. Wish me luck today."

-

10:04am

Albert slides into the frame, set up like his normal frame for his cooking videos. "Alright," he says, leaning forward on his elbows. "We back. So the plan is basically I'm going to get Finch on camera like he's doing a normal taste test for a video and then I'm going to propose. So I'm making Chinese take out and fortune cookies but I also wanted to do something special for after. You guys know I don't have the patience or the understanding of measuring ingredients to bake but I can work with chocolate so I'm gonna cover some strawberries in chocolate and do some other chocolates and caramels and stuff and I have like champagne and whatever Race said to get so that's the plan. Ooh and I have to charge all the camera batteries. I normally do a two, maybe three, camera set up for my cooking videos but I think I'm gonna use all five of our cameras tonight, so I have to make sure all the batteries are charged. So I'm gonna go do that and then probably time lapse my chocolate making except for the million times I'm going to burn myself with caramel. Okay. Bye."

The frame is empty for a second as Albert walks off but he's back only a few seconds later in time lapse. It only lasts a minute or so before he starts working on caramel and burns himself when the time lapse is interrupted by Albert swearing in real time. It happens four more times during the time lapse before the video changes abruptly to trays of decorated strawberries and other chocolate candies. "These are pretty messy," says Albert. "Finch would have done a way better job but they're done and they'll be good with champagne so they're going in the fridge."

After putting the strawberries and chocolate in the fridge, Al turned back to the camera. "So I'm going to eat lunch because I forget to do that sometimes and Finch just texted me to remind me. I think I'm going to have to start cooking and, unfortunately baking, around 4 so that everything is ready just a little bit before Finch gets home, so I'm gonna clean up the kitchen and get the cameras set up and everything and I'll probably see you guys again when I start that."

-

3:37pm

Albert's face appears close up to the camera. "So I got a little carried away. I'm feeling pretty nervous so I got everything set up super early and then cleaned the entire apartment. So I cleaned everything." The video swings around to show the kitchen and the living room, looking spotless before moving back to Albert's face. "I mean the kitchen's going to be a mess again because I'm a tornado but I couldn't stop myself. I also got the bedroom set up, which I'm not going to show you, ya nasties, but things at work have been kind of stressful for Finch lately so I have some stuff for like a really relaxing night tonight, like massage oils and bath bombs and shit that I set up. Ooh and I'll show you my camera set up."

The camera turns around to focus on the kitchen. One side is open to the living room with the other three walls covered in cabinets, with the oven and stove top on the back wall, the fridge on the right, and the sink on the left. There's a large island in the center of the kitchen. "So these two are what I normally use for filming while cooking," Albert says from behind the camera. He points to the larger of the two tripod setups. "This is just my normally stationary camera and this," he points to the smaller camera, "is what I use for close ups of cooking and the final dishes. So I'll use that normally while cooking but I'm going to point it towards the door when Finch comes home. And then these two," he points to the cameras on the counters on either side of kitchen, both propped up on small tripods, "are actually Finch's cameras for his photography so let's hope he doesn't notice I'm using them and get suspicious. And then I don't know what I'm going to do with the vlog camera yet because I'm using it right now but I'll figure something out."

The video turns around to Albert's face again. "So yeah. I'm nervous but almost ready. It's a little too early to start cooking so I think I'm going to write some fortunes and pre-measure the ingredients for the fortune cookies so maybe I won't mess up the baking as much with my tornado. Next time you see me will be cooking time so let's hope I don't puke in the next half hour."

-

4:15pm

Albert is standing behind the kitchen island wearing his chef coat with various materials spread out in front of him. "Alright, guys, if you're here for the cooking and not for the whole proposal thing, this part of the video is for you. On Finch and I's first date, we got Chinese takeout before a movie so I'm trying to recreate that here. Also, don't tell Finch I said that because I like to deny that it was our first date and it annoys him. This is essentially still our takeout order so I'm going to do cashew chicken for him, beef and broccoli for me, and then some spring rolls and fortune cookies. So it's cooking time which unfortunately means baking time."

The video cuts to a side shot of Albert whipping his head around to face it. "As always, you can find all of the recipes and quantities on my blog. Links are in the description." 

A shot of Albert whipping his head forward. "Alright, let's do this. Just so you know this is probably going to be a pretty quiet video because I'm getting really nervous. So, yeah. Let's bake, which is a thing I'm terrible at. Great."

Albert goes through the process of making fortune cookies, being uncharacteristically meticulous about following the instructions and measurements. His instructions, as usual, are basic and concise with plenty of jokes thrown in. He stops right before he puts the cookie tray in the oven. 

"So I'm doing these 4 at a time because they bake quick and need to be folded pretty quickly. Finch and I were watching Bake Off the other day, which is what inspired me proposing this way, and I know this step has to be done really quickly so I have my fortunes written out and my glass and cupcake pan ready for shaping so let's do this. These are going to go in for five minutes so I'll see you then."

The video cuts to a close up of the cookie sheet going into the oven and then to it coming out, with the edges of the cookies a nice golden brown. The video then cuts back to the normal frame, with Albert looking into the camera disappointed, with 15 or so broken or misshapen cookies in front of him. "So. This has not gone well so far. I've done 4 batches and still haven't gotten one that's the right shape but I am getting closer." He holds up the best looking of the cookies, still not quite a fortune cookie shape. "I've got to move on soon though because I don't want to be cooking when Finch gets home. So I'm gonna put in one more batch of just two and hope those turn out well. All the fortunes say 'Will you marry me?' so it doesn't really matter which one Finch opens."

The camera cuts to a close up of Albert's hands folding a cookie the proper way and then to the regular frame with him explaining the process as he does it. He places the cookie in a muffin tin and turns back to the camera. "Now that we're done with that tragedy, let's move onto the cooking that I will actually enjoy."

"So, we're going to do our beef and broccoli and cashew chicken first but I'm going to prep all the veggies for both before we do anything." Albert lists the ingredients in voice over as the video shows closeups of him preparing each ingredient. He goes through cooking the two dishes, with his instructions interrupted by close ups of the cooking food. He goes through preparing and frying the spring rolls in the same manner- a little quieter than normal but still with a bit of joking and his signature chaotic energy.

After several minutes of the condensed cooking process, the video cuts to Albert with the food laid out in front of him. "Now that this is all done, we have the most important part here on this channel-" He holds up a stack of takeout containers and a package of wax bags. "Presentation! I decided to go extra this time and I ordered these from Amazon, so I'll link them below. Let's hope Finch has been on Prime in the past two days. Oh, and I forgot to tell, I also made some rice in the rice cooker to go along with this."

The video cuts to close up shots of the finished food in the take out containers, including the handful of fortune cookies that sort of look like they're supposed to, before it cuts back to Albert. "Alright, so that's all the filming I'm gonna do before Finch gets back and we do the damn thing. All the food is in the warmer and I'm just gonna wait for him to get home. I texted him to say I was filming but he's kind of running late so we'll see when he gets home. I'm sorry this isn’t a great cooking video. Sue me, I’m nervous. Wish me luck!"

-

5:53pm

The video cuts to Finch opening the door. “Al?” He loosens his tie and sets down his bag as he takes off his shoes. He looks incredibly confused. “Why does it look like a tornado went through the kitchen?

The video cuts again to Albert’s normal frame, this time with Finch on the right of the frame. A grinning Albert puts his hand on Finch’s chest. “So now that my Bert is here, we can finish this video.”

Finch still looks very confused but he’s also smiling. "Hi! I have no idea why I'm here.”

"If you don't know, this is my boyfriend, Finch. I call him my Bert because someone made a Albert and Ernie joke once but he's the one who wears vertically striped sweaters.” Finch rolls his eyes. Albert is practically bouncing as he turns to Finch. "Okay, you're just tasting what I made so guess what it is.

The video cuts to a side view with Albert flashing a thumbs up to one of the side cameras behind Finch’s back before the video cuts back to Finch, closing his eyes and humming like he’s taking in his surroundings before making his guess. He grins as he turns to Albert. "Did you order take out to prank me for a video?"

"No but you're close. I did make Chinese takeout." The video cuts to Albert setting the containers down in front of them and handing Finch a set of chopsticks. "There's cashew chicken and beef and broccoli and some rice, of course.”

“Awww, like our first date,” Finch says as he picks up the cashew chicken. He wiggles his eyebrows at the camera.

"Wasn't our first date.” Albert winks at the camera, which Finch seems not to notice.

"Chinese food was absolutely our first date and Albert has been wrong about it for the entire seven years of our relationship. He invited me to get Chinese food and go to a movie and he meant to ask as a date but he chickened out. So he wanted it to be a date and I thought it was a date but he still insists it wasn't. It was though."

"Because I didn't ask. And you didn't ask either. It wasn't a date." 

Finch rolls his eyes dramatically and he and Albert both take a bite of their respective food. "Oh shit- this can't be legal."

"It's good?"

Finch turns to Albert, genuinely excited. Albert hasn’t stopped grinning since being in the frame with Frinch. "Yeah, Ern, it's the best cashew chicken I've had since we moved to the city. You have beef and broccoli?"

Finch and Albert both try the rest of the food, with Finch telling Albert it’s all delicious and Albert being hard on his own cooking, not an unfamiliar phenomenon in his cooking videos. It goes on until the video cuts to Albert setting the tray of fortune cookies in front of Finch, who tries not to laugh as he looks them over. “Go ahead, laugh. I know they’re terrible.”

"No, they look great! They look perfectly baked. They're just misshapen,” Finch says as he looks over the cookies, picking one up. 

Albert hands him the best one "Here, you have the good one. They may be the wrong shape but they do have fortunes. These were way too hard."

The video cuts to the side as Finch talks, showing Albert pulling a ring box from behind a cup of utensils and getting down on one knee, before cutting back to Finch. "You didn't learn anything from that episode of the Bake Off- Oh." Finch reads the fortune. He turns to Albert and the video cuts to the side, showing a surprised Finch with Albert kneeling in front of him. “Oh my god.”

"I had a whole thing I was gonna say but I just forgot all of it. The important part is that I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And I know we'll do that anyway but it'd be cool if the government knew too. Will you marry me?"

"Yes, of course, Al. I could spend a million lifetimes with you and still be ready for a million more." Finch pulls Albert up and kisses him. “We’re getting married.”

Finch pulled Albert up from his knee and kissed him. When he pulled back he couldn't help but grin, leaning his forehead against Albert's. "We're getting married.”

The video cuts away from Finch and Albert in the kitchen to an old video of the two of them in front of the camera on a couch. They look younger and Finch is wearing an NYU sweatshirt that looks brand new.

“Hi, guys! Welcome to today’s video. It’s not a cooking video but you’ve been asking for me to do the boyfriend tag with my boyfriend so here we are.” Albert puts his hand on Finch’s chest. “This is my boyfriend. His name is Finch.”

Finch smiles and waves at the camera. “Hi.”

The video continues, a chronological montage of clips of the two of them from Albert’s previous videos. There’s clips from vlogs and tags and challenges but mostly a lot of them laughing and goofing off during taste tests at the end of Albert’s cooking videos. There’s a clip of them dancing wildly after beating Race and Elmer in a round of the newlywed game, a clip of Albert smearing frosting across Finch’s cheek, a clip of them celebrating Finch’s graduation and then Albert’s 1 million subscriber play button. There’s clips of Finch playing guitar and serenading Albert, Albert surprising Finch with breakfast in bed, Finch on his camera while they explore the city. There’s a whole series of clips pulled from the vlog of their 5th anniversary trip to Ireland. There’s taste tests and parties with their friends and lazy days at home, all leading up to the start of the taste test from Albert’s last video, when Finch had snuck up on him and hugged him from behind, resulting in a lot of laughter and Albert leaning back to kiss Finch on the cheek.

The video cuts back to Albert and Finch in the kitchen, standing with Finch’s hand on Albert’s chest so that he’s showing off his ring. “Alright, everyone, thanks for joining me on this very long and stressful day but you know I had to do it to ’em.” Albert puts his hands together and crosses his fingers. Finch rolls his eyes and slaps at his hands. “Finch and I are getting married, which I’m pretty psyched about.”

“Same,” Finch says, leaning over to kiss Albert’s cheek.

Albert grins at the camera, a little lopsided and blinding. “You all know the deal. Recipes are in the description, like, subscribe, find me on the socials, tag me if you make these recipes yourself. This is definitely the sappiest video on my channel but I don’t even care. We’re going to clean up a little and then celebrate. I’ll see you guys next time.”

“Bye!” they say together and the video cuts to an end card, displaying Albert’s first rendition of the boyfriend tag and his latest video, along with all his social media handles.

After the end card, the video blinks back to the kitchen, where Albert and Finch are cleaning up food to be stored in the fridge. “Sniper bet me I couldn’t. Of course I did box jumps during lunch.”

“Did you know I can box jump onto this counter?”

Finch stops cleaning. “Why do you know that?”

“I did it in my last video.”

“Albert, tell me you’re lying.”

“No, watch.”

“Do not-”

The video ends immediately after Albert box jumps onto the island counter.

[aliciameade]

Fade Into You - Ch. 2

Title: Fade Into You (Chapter 2 of 5) Author: aliciameade Rating: T Pairing: Beca/Chloe Summary: Tip for newlyweds: send a wedding invite to every billionaire whose address you can find because it's a 50/50 chance their assistants just send you a perfunctory gift without ever wondering who the hell you are. Or: Beca had a really good terrible idea when she got tired of being broke in New York.

Also on AO3 and FFnet, but I probably can’t link there idk.

(Chapter 1)

Amy unsurprisingly declared her ignorance of the invitation situation when Beca confronted her, stating she assumed they’d added their parents and the Bellas to their list as a joke, or a way to get more free stuff.

There wasn’t much Beca could say to that. It wasn’t Amy’s fault the list was wrong.

~ ~

~ ~

Two days later when Beca opened their mailbox, she pulled out one of their returned RSVP cards.

From Glen Hauenstein, the President of Delta Airlines.

“Holy shit.” She rushed up the stairs and almost fell through the door in her haste. In the absolute chaos they’d created in their personal lives, she’d forgotten what had started it: one teeny tiny gigantically unethical idea.

“Hey, you,” Chloe said with a calm smile over a cup of tea.

Beca held up the envelope. “Someone replied.”

“Oh, my God! Who?” Chloe set down her cup and rushed to join Beca still standing barely inside the door.

“Delta.”

“Shut UP!” Chloe said with a shove to Beca’s shoulder. It was so hard it actually threw Beca against the door. “Sorry. Let’s open it,” she said as she snatched the envelope out of Beca’s hand and ripped open its seal. She pulled out the RSVP card. “Glen regrets to inform us that he cannot attend,” Chloe said with a grin as she waved the card in front of Beca’s face.

“Oh, thank God,” Beca said with a sigh of relief.

“Wait; there’s something else in here.” Chloe reached back into the envelope to pull out what looked like a blue credit card. “Beca…”

“What? What is it?”

“It’s a five thousand dollar Delta gift card.”

Beca dropped her purse. “What?!” She grabbed the card out of Chloe’s hand and flipped it over. Surely, it had to be fifty dollars, or maybe five hundred, but… “Holy shit. Holy shit!” She threw it across the room like it was on fire.

“No! Don’t lose it!” Chloe chased after it and found it where it had slid under the edge of their bed.

“We can’t keep that, Chloe!”

“Well, it’s not like we can send it back!”

“Yes, we can!” Beca said, clapping with each word to make her point. “That was the plan. We can send something back with the sad news of our break-up and it’s all fixed!”

“He runs the airline, baby. It’s not like this actually cost him anything.”

Beca was about to reply when Chloe’s statement resonated with her—one word in particular. She grit her teeth. “Fine. I’ll think about it.”

“Good.” Chloe sat down on their bed and kicked her feet excitedly. “And now we know it works!”

Beca rolled her eyes at how fucking cute she was being. She knew this was bad. It was so, so bad. But Chloe liked it. Chloe wanted to pretend to be engaged a little longer and...Beca was good with that. She took off her shoes to cross the room and climb onto the bed and flop into her spot. “I’m pretty sure we’re going to hell for this.”

Chloe giggled and turned to crawl over until she was dropping down to kiss Beca’s cheek. “I’m going anyway. It’ll be nice to have you there with me.”

Beca felt herself blush at the thoughts that flooded her imagination as to what Chloe could have done to warrant her confidence in her afterlife.

“So, where would we go? If we keep it, I mean.”

“Apparently, we’re going to Fiji if we don’t stop this runaway train.”

Chloe shrugged next to her. “I’ll take care of it.”

~ ~

~ ~

More RSVPs trickled in over the next couple of weeks. Cousins and coworkers who could not attend. Parents who would. Bellas who would. CEOs who regretfully couldn’t. And it was never the right time to call off the wedding—someone else was going through a break-up, or was sick, or a mom had a bad day at work.

There was always a reason. The one time Chloe couldn’t come up with one, Beca blurted some lie about her dad and Sheila starting couples therapy that day so they absolutely could not do it then.

Their fake wedding was two weeks away and neither of them had figured out how to call it off.

It was Saturday afternoon when someone buzzed their door.

“UPS!” crackled through when Beca asked who it was and she buzzed them up.

“What did you order?” she said when she dropped the delivered Amazon box onto the bed where Chloe sat.

“Nothing.” She looked up at Beca and Beca knew what she was thinking. “Get the scissors; let’s open it!”

Beca rushed to grab them from the drawer and returned to slice the tape. She let Chloe pop the sides open and pull out a rectangular package wrapped in white and silver paper. There was a slip of paper with it and she read, “To Chloe and Beca. May you live happily ever after. I’m so sorry I cannot make it to your special day, but I will be with you in spirit. Never stop singing your love to each other. Congratulations. Love, Mrs. Higgins. Oh, my God, Mrs. Higgins!” she added with a squeal. “Should we open it? Or should we wait until after the wedding?”

“Chloe,” Beca said slowly. “There’s not going to be a wedding. Remember?”

“Oh, right. I didn’t mean...nevermind. So should we open it?”

Beca sighed and sank onto the bed. This ruse was taking a serious toll on her morals even if it was pervertedly fun and exciting. “I guess?”

Chloe tore into the paper with another squeal to reveal the set of eight hundred-thread count navy blue Egyptian cotton sheets from their registry. “Oh, heck yes!” she said with a grin as she tossed the package in the air. “I’m going to go wash these and they’re going on our bed tonight.”

Beca expected to have a fitful rest when she slid into the luxuriously silky sheets that they basically stole. But when Chloe slid up behind her and draped her arm over her waist while she kissed Beca’s shoulder, she forgot, at least for a little bit, that what they were doing was wrong.

Because something about it all felt so right.

~ ~

~ ~

“Remember how you were going to call off the wedding?” Beca asked as she zipped her suitcase while sipping from her fresh cup of coffee thanks to her new Keurig. They’d be in a cab to the airport in the next fifteen minutes for a two-week trip to Fiji, courtesy Delta Airlines and the Mitchell and Beale families.

Somehow an entire wedding got planned without either of them having to lift a finger (thanks, Aubrey), everything from rehearsal to dinner to the photographer to the ceremony and reception and the week-long honeymoon that the Bellas all chipped in for: a private bungalow on a neighboring island away from their guests.

“Yeah, you two are a regular Bonnie and...Bonnie,” Amy said as she sat on her suitcase and waved Beca over to zip it.

“Thanks again for your help, Ames.”

“Don’t mention it.”

She watched Chloe double-check the garment bag that contained their dresses. Beca didn’t even remember how it happened; one afternoon they were drinking white wine and suddenly they were in Macy’s picking out dresses suitable for an island wedding. “I will. But let’s get to Fiji first. We’ll announce it at the rehearsal dinner and then we can run off and do our own thing for the rest of the trip.”

“I seriously can’t believe we’re doing this. What is wrong with us?” Beca asked as she shoved her various chargers into her carry-on and made sure her passport was in her purse.

“We’re seizing the day.” Chloe swatted her ass with her own passport before putting it away and opening the door. “Let’s go get married.”

“We’re not getting married!” Beca had to say it for herself as much as for Chloe, it seemed. And that was a little...confusing for Beca.

“You know what I mean. Now, let’s go!”

~ ~

~ ~

Twenty hours on an airplane was a lot, even with two stops along the way. The longest break was in Los Angeles and that was after a paltry six-and-a-half hour flight. Beca didn’t even need to stretch her legs yet.

It wasn’t all bad, though.

It was nice being upgraded to First Class when they checked in. They’d done it at a self-serve kiosk only for it to send them to the counter. The agent informed them that as a guest of the airline, they would be upgraded. Chloe had looked at Beca with such shock that Beca had to be the one to thank the agent and take their new boarding passes for seats 3A and 3B.

“Uh, excuse me? What just happened?” Amy asked from where she waited behind them.

“We got bumped to First Class,” Beca said, still feeling woozy from it. “I guess because we booked the tickets with the gift card? Whatever; let’s go before they change their mind.”

“You bitches,” Amy grumbled. “You better bring a hot towel back to me in steerage.”

It was nice to not have to sit sandwiched between Chloe and Amy for twenty hours. It was nice to hear Chloe tell the flight attendant they were wedding-bound, even if it was just a ploy to get free champagne (which would have been free anyway because they were in First Class, but Chloe seemed tickled to share the information regardless).

It was nice to have Chloe flip the armrest up between them to lean over and snuggle into Beca while they both settled to sleep for as much as the trans-Pacific journey as possible. Beca moved her arm to put it around Chloe’s waist so she could pull her in closer. And it was nice.

~ ~

~ ~

“Oh, hell no,” Beca said when she stepped onto the tarmac in Nadi for their connection to Savusavu and saw what was waiting for them. “That’s a fake airplane. Can it even carry our baggage?”

“Well, we all know you have enough emotional baggage for the three of us,” Amy said under her breath and Beca ignored her.

“It’ll be fine, Becs,” Chloe said as she nudged her to start walking toward the plane, which only had six windows along its fuselage.

“I really don’t want to die before our fake wedding.” She let the man waiting by the door help her up the two steps and into the tiny aircraft. She even had to duck so her head wouldn’t hit the ceiling and she yelped when someone grabbed her from behind.

“I promise not to let anything bad happen to you,” Chloe said into her ear before kissing her cheek and peeling off to sit.

It was single seating along the sides of the plane which, by Beca’s count, could seat twelve people. There were only five aboard: their party of three and what appeared to be a couple based on how affectionate they were being even across the narrow aisle between their seats. Chloe seemed to notice them, too, because she reached across the aisle to find and hold Beca’s hand.

~ ~

~ ~

Just as Aubrey said would happen, there was a van waiting for them when they landed at Savusavu Airport. Beca wasn’t sure how she survived that last leg of the journey between the trying take-off (seriously, it sounded like the engines had asthma) and landing on what amounted to little more than a dirt road. She’d sweat through the back of her tee and it hadn’t been that warm on the plane.

“You okay?” Chloe said with amusement as she plucked Beca’s shirt from where it clung to her skin while they climbed into the van. “You made it in one piece. Told you I’d take care of you.”

“Shut up,” she grumbled but couldn’t help but smile a little at the way Chloe looped their arms together to sit close. It seemed the other couple from the plane wasn’t traveling to their resort and the three of them had the van to themselves.

“Ladies, welcome,” their driver said. “My name is James. I’ll be taking you out to Koro Sun. Vijay will make sure you are comfortable.” He nodded at the man who’d placed their baggage in the back of the van. He was now armed with a tray of rolled white cloths.

“Chilled towel?” he said with a subtle accent as he offered one to Amy with a pair of tongs.

“Ooh, don’t mind if I do,” she said as she promptly unfurled it and put it under her shirt where Beca knew it was getting tucked under her boobs.

“Yeah, thanks,” Beca said after Chloe had accepted hers. She was still working on unrolling it to dab at her face when she hissed at cold landing on the back of her neck.

“You seem to need it more than I do,” Chloe whispered as she massaged her neck a little through the cool cloth. “Ooh, drinks!”

Beca blinked out of the daze she’d been put into to find a green coconut with the top cut off and a brightly colored straw and tiny umbrella sticking out of it. “Is there alcohol in that?” she asked as the man prepared to hand one to her.

“No, but I’m happy to add some.” He was reaching for a bottle of something dark from a spot next to their seat and pouring before she’d even agreed.

“Thanks,” she said when he finally passed it to her. She took a long, long drink. It was amazing. And much-needed.

“Yeah, I’ma need you to hit me up with a spot of that,” Amy said, stretching her arm out and waving her coconut in Vijay’s face.

“Me, too, please,” Chloe said with a polite smile. “Good idea, babe.”

Beca shrugged and took another sip. “When in Rome.”

“Yeah, Shawshank? I thought Chloe was the one who failed Maps? We’re in Fiji. Not Spain.”

She rolled her eyes and laughed to herself. She was in Fiji...to not get married.

What the everloving fuck?

~ ~

~ ~

“Okay, ladies, here we are! Welcome to Koro Sun Resort.”

Beca peered out the dark window of the van. Despite the tint, it was clear they were deeply in paradise. She could tell the water was blue, or maybe even turquoise. There were trees everywhere and if there weren’t trees there were beaches. Pure, white sandy beaches.

“Coming through! Ladies first!” Amy announced as soon as Vijay opened their door. Beca watched her march toward what appeared to be the main entrance.

“After you,” Beca said with a nod to Chloe.

“Oh, wow,” Chloe said once she was standing outside the van. “Becs, hurry up.” She reached back and took Beca’s hand to pull her out. “Look at this.”

“Oh...wow,” Beca echoed. It was...beyond anything she could imagine. It smelled like rain and flowers and the sea and the only things she could hear were the breeze, birds, and what sounded like a waterfall. She felt Chloe’s arm around her waist.

“This is so romantic,” Chloe said quietly. “Come on; let’s go check in. I want to see our room. Aubrey said it’s an ‘Edgewater Villa.’”

~ ~

~ ~

True to its name, their private villa was situated against the edge of a lagoon inset from the ocean. They had to get to the front door via a footbridge over a private pool through a garden.

“Okay, I’m here for this,” Beca said as she made her way through the house. It was epically luxurious without crossing the line into tacky territory. Everything felt organic, made from stone and woven plant fibers with windows everywhere to remind them they were surrounded on three sides by water (the fourth was curtained by the rainforest).

Chloe stopped in the kitchen to see what was stocked for them in the refrigerator so Beca kept going until she found a bedroom.

“Oh...right,” she said to herself as she dropped her carry-on on a chair.

“What’s wrong?” Chloe said from behind her before joining her in the center of the room.

“Nothing,” Beca said quickly. “I just...nevermind. It’s dumb.”

Chloe ran her fingers up Beca’s back to make her scrunch up her shoulders. “I’m sure it’s not dumb. Tell me.”

Beca sighed and gestured at the singular king-sized bed. “I was just surprised is all.”

Chloe smiled and gave her a tug toward the bed. “What—because there’s only one bed? Did you forget we sleep with each other every night? Don’t get shy on me now.”

“No,” Beca mumbled. Her face felt hot at Chloe’s choice of words. She let Chloe pull her along until they were both crawling up the bed to flop on their backs to try it out.

“See?” Chloe reached her arm out across the ample space between them. “Way more room than our bed at home. And comfier,” she added as she wriggled around until she was basically wrapped around Beca to defeat her own point of having more space. “Besides, we’re getting married.” Chloe poked Beca’s cheek and then kissed it. “It’s a little late to not want to sleep with me.”

“We’re not getting married.” Beca turned her head and looked down her nose at the bright eyes and giddy smile looking back at her and she shook her head. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Mm, anything you want,” Chloe said before kissing her cheek again and then leaping off the bed. “C’mon! There’s a ladder right off our balcony that takes us down to the water! We need to go swimming!”

Beca cleared her throat and sat up to watch Chloe throw open one of her suitcases and pull out a white bikini and start stripping right there in plain sight. “Yeah, I just…” She gawked when Chloe’s bra came off despite her back being turned toward Beca and having seen it a thousand times already. “I just need a minute after that flight.”

~ ~

~ ~

“Should we be concerned we haven’t seen Amy since we got here?” Beca asked as she combed out her wet hair.

Chloe’s own wet hair thwacked her arm as she flipped it over to put some type of product in it. They were wearing matching white bathrobes fresh from their showers. “She probably has a new boyfriend fanning her with palm fronds in her private courtyard. I wouldn’t worry about her.”

Beca snorted and reached for her moisturizer. “So what’s the deal—do we need to make reservations for dinner? I don’t want to have to wait for a table. I’m fucking tired. What time is it at home?”

“We’re eighteen hours behind New York.”

She glanced at a clock on the wall of the ensuite bathroom and did the math. “So, midnight. Cool.”

“I know; I’m tired, too. But we have to hold out as long as we can to get switched over. I don’t want to be jet-lagged all week when we only have two weeks here.” Chloe’s hair whipped her again as she straightened.

“So, reservations?” Beca reminded as she watched Chloe get the part in her hair straight.

“Oh! No, we don’t need to make reservations. Bree said we get VIP treatment because of our wedding.”

“Right.” Beca looked at their reflections in the wide mirror and Chloe smiled at her through it. She wondered for the umpteenth time how they let this charade get this far. But they were there, so she decided to make the most of it while it lasted. “I’m not going to blow-out my hair. Or put on makeup tonight,” she said as though declaring world peace. “We don’t know anyone here, so fuck it.”

Chloe laughed and bumped her hip with her own. “You don’t need it anyway.”

Beca blushed and reached for her eyeliner as she leaned in toward the mirror.

“You just said you aren’t wearing makeup tonight.”

She paused and looked at Chloe through the mirror again. “This doesn’t count.”

Chloe just shook her head at her and turned to leave. “I’m going to get dressed. Meet me out front.”

“Sure.” She watched Chloe walk away for a second too long because she saw her drop her robe right before she was completely out of sight in their bedroom. It made her hand too unsteady to get her eyeliner on straight so she tossed it back in her bag. “Fuck it.”

~ ~

~ ~

Once again as Aubrey had promised, they were treated as honored guests as soon as Beca gave the maître d′ her name. Dinner was exquisite, a three-course meal that Beca could only assume was locally sourced.

They were strolling along a path, going opposite the way they came so they could explore a little when the thumping rhythm of bass started mixing with the natural sounds of the environment.

“Do you hear that?” Chloe asked just as Beca noticed it.

“Yeah. It sounds like it’s ahead of us. Let’s check it out.”

They kept walking until they found the source: the resort’s nightclub. “Ooh, a bar! C’mon, I need something fruity with an umbrella in it,” Chloe said with a mischievous smile as she grabbed Beca’s hand to head toward the club.

They were carded at the door—probably Beca’s fault—but as soon as Chloe showed her ID they were both waved through with enthusiastic greetings and shown to a small high-top table marked with a Reserved sign and a waiter descended upon them before they’d even finished hopping onto their stools.

“Welcome to Latitude 17, ladies,” a handsome man wearing a tropical flower-covered shirt said as he placed a pair of napkins on the table. “Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials. We’re so happy you chose to spend it with us.”

“Thank you!” Chloe said. “So are we!”

Beca held her tongue; there was no need to tell this stranger they weren’t going to go through with it.

“Would you like something to drink?”

“Something tropical,” Chloe answered. “And strong.”

“Me, too,” Beca added. “And make sure hers has a tiny umbrella in it. Please.”

“Of course,” he said with a nod before disappearing toward the bar.

“Okay, I could get used to this,” Chloe said as her hand patted Beca’s knee.

Beca noticed she didn’t remove it once the patting stopped. She hoped their drinks would arrive as quickly as they were seated. “Yeah, same.” She looked around the bar and its tropical theme, hibiscus and greenery everywhere, even hanging from the DJ booth on the other side of the room. It was perfect, and being treated like royalty wasn’t too shabby either. “Is this the only bar in the place I wonder?”

“I haven’t looked at the map yet, so I don’t know. Why?”

“Because Amy’s not here, so there must be another,” she said with a smile and it sent Chloe into a fit of giggles. “Okay, calm down. You’re not even drinking yet; it wasn’t that funny.” She’s not quite sure why she would ever tell Chloe to stop laughing; she looked beautiful when she laughed.

“Maybe she’s not finished with her new boyfriend yet. Ooh!”

Beca turned at Chloe’s excitement to see their waiter returning with two fancy and fruity-looking pink drinks in hand. They both had tiny umbrellas and wedges of pineapple on the rims.

“Mai tais for the lovely ladies in love,” he said with a grand smile as he placed the glasses on the table. “Enjoy.”

“Thanks!” Chloe said as she picked hers up right away. “What should we toast to?”

Beca was slow to respond, still hearing the waiter’s words pinballing around in her brain. “Um,” she said as she picked up her drink and turned to face Chloe. She hoped her undue nerves weren’t obvious.

“I know! To you,” Chloe said before tapping her glass to Beca’s.

“Why me?” she asked before Chloe got the straw to her lips.

Chloe smiled at her. “Because we wouldn’t be here if not for you.”

“Don’t remind me,” Beca said as she rolled her eyes. The guilt came in waves and she felt it rolling in.

“No, no. Stop it,” Chloe said firmly. “We’re in this amazing place and I wouldn’t change it for the world. We’ll deal with our little...situation when the time comes. Let’s just enjoy this while we can, okay?” She punctuated her request with her sad puppy eyes and as usual, it rendered Beca helpless in arguing.

She felt a smile tug at her lips and it made Chloe’s grow until they were grinning at each other. “Fine!” she said. “To me!”

They tapped their glasses again and drank, both wincing at the same time.

“Okay, when I said strong…” Chloe said with a strained voice.

Beca coughed. “They listened.” It burned. And it was delicious. “Here,” she said as she plucked the paper umbrella out of her glass to drop it into Chloe’s. “Since you love them so much.”

Chloe squealed at the addition and took another long sip. “Hurry up and drink that. I want to dance.”

Beca just laughed and shook her head. “Of course you do. And I’m trying! This isn’t really something I can chug.”

Chloe cocked an eyebrow at her.

Her heart sank to her feet. “Chlo—no. That’s not—no.”

“On the count of three! One—”

It was Chloe’s favorite thing. Challenge Beca to a drinking contest. She figured out the little game years ago for the sole purpose of getting Beca drunker, but Beca participated in it nonetheless because competition ran in their blood. “No, I can’t, I’m not even drunk yet—”

“Two—”

“I wasn’t—”

“Three!”

“No! Baby, I wasn’t trying to—shit!” She threw the straw out of her glass to bring it to her lips and start. It burned and made her eyes water and when she slammed her glass down as carefully and victoriously as she could, saw that Chloe hadn’t even started. She was just staring at her over her untouched glass. “What happened?” Beca said with a laugh. “I’m not the only one getting drunk tonight. Go!”

Chloe’s eyelashes fluttered and then she was drinking until there was nothing but ice in her glass. Her face was flushed when she set it down. “Okay. Come dance.” Chloe grabbed Beca’s hand to drag her off her stool and toward the dance floor.

It wasn’t like Beca was resisting, though; she just wasn’t as quick as Chloe off her seat so she ended up being dragged along trying to catch up until Chloe finally stopped in the middle of the semi-crowded dance floor and turned around to face her, already moving to the beat. Beca didn’t know the song but it had a smooth house beat that wasn’t too fast for her liking. It was easy to slide into the rhythm and soon they were dancing in sync.

She and Chloe had spent countless hours on dance floors together over the years. Dancing with Chloe was as natural as breathing for Beca, though it had taken most of their first year as friends to reach that point.

Now she had no hesitations about reaching out and pulling Chloe against her after she’d turned her back to Beca. Her blood was warm and watching Chloe’s hips in her tight white capris wasn’t helping the matter so she decided to own it and wrap her arm around Chloe’s waist while their hips rocked together.

Chloe glanced over her shoulder at the contact and Beca could tell she was warm, too. The alcohol was probably starting to work its magic on her as well, Beca figured, as she winked at Chloe.

She wasn’t really trying to convey anything with it. Nothing more than a message that she was having fun. But it seemed to translate a little differently for Chloe because suddenly she was turning in Beca’s hold to drape an arm over Beca’s shoulder while the other wrapped around her waist to pull their bodies even closer.

They were close enough that Beca could smell the rum on her breath. It felt infinitely hotter on the dance floor and she was sure Chloe could feel the way her lower back was sweating through the thin material of her tank top. She was grateful she had opted for shorts because she was sure she’d be dead if she’d worn jeans.

She was also sure she should be dead from how intensely Chloe was looking at her. They were just dancing; there was no need for her to make that much eye contact. Yet, she was, and Beca wasn’t sure her heart was up to the task of dealing with it. It was really being put through its paces with how Chloe’s gaze kept drifting to what Beca thought might be her lips, though it was equally possible she was looking at, like, her chin. Or her cleavage, which Beca knew was readily visible in the low scoop neck of her top. She knew if she glanced down, she’d have a good view of Chloe’s, too, thanks to her halter top.

She pulled away as soon as the thought crossed her mind. “I need another drink!” she explained when Chloe looked at her questioningly. She was desperate for space but she didn’t get much; Chloe grabbed her hand to follow her off the floor and back to their table. Beca didn’t sit and neither did Chloe; instead, Chloe stood impossibly close to her until Beca had to tug her hand out of Chloe’s grip to sling her arm around her waist instead.

That seemed to make Chloe happy and she did the same, her fingers tucked into the front pocket of Beca’s denim shorts.

“Where’s our guy?” Beca asked as she looked around the room to get her brain and body to cool off.

“There he is!” Chloe said as she hopped a little and waved him down. They had fresh mai tais in short-order.

“I’m not chugging this one,” Beca said as she picked up her glass.

“Wait!” Chloe said before she could take a drink. “We have to make a toast.”

“We already made a toast,” Beca said as she tried to angle herself so she could look at Chloe without being an inch from her face. “To me, remember?”

“That was my toast.” She felt fingers walk up her back and then glide down to hold her waist again. “It’s your turn.”

Beca just shook her head. She wasn’t going to argue it. “Okay, fine. To us.” She smiled and tapped her glass to Chloe’s and drank. She watched Chloe take a sip, too, on a delay again just as she had been when they were supposed to race.

She didn’t think too hard about why that was.

That was a hopeless path of pain to travel down.

Instead, she focused on how nice it was to be able to hold Chloe as she was and how Chloe was holding her the same way and allowed herself to indulge just a little bit in the fantasy they’d created for themselves. That she was at an island resort with her fiancée set to be married in two short days and—

She grabbed Chloe’s hand from around her waist and pulled it up to the table between them. “A ring!”

“What?”

“You don’t have an engagement ring!” She slapped her own left hand on the table, foregoing her hold on Chloe to do so. “Neither do I! If you proposed to me, I should have a ring. And so should you! I wouldn’t not give you a ring. People are going to expect to see them. They’re always obsessed with engagement rings.”

“We’ll just tell them we left them at home to not risk losing them.”

“No!” Beca said. It was loud enough that she saw Chloe flinch. “No,” she tried again. “We’re going to take the shuttle into town first thing in the morning before everyone shows up and we’re going to get engagement rings.”

Chloe’s hand turned to interlace with Beca’s. “That’s really sweet, but I don’t really have money for an engagement ring.”

“We’ll get fake ones. Or some kind of local thing and we’ll tell people we waited until we were here to get something to remember this by.” She watched Chloe’s face soften until it looked like she was maybe going to cry. “Dude, what?”

Chloe laughed a little and shook her head as she cradled Beca’s cheek with her free hand for a second. “You’re really a romantic, aren’t you.”

“What? No,” Beca said, offended for some reason as she tried to crane her neck away from the touch that felt like heaven.

“Yes, you are,” Chloe said firmly before leaning in to kiss Beca’s cheek. She seemed to hesitate before pulling back and Beca’s heart stopped. Then she moved in to kiss her again, this time close enough to the corner of Beca’s mouth to make her head swim. “Let’s finish our drinks so we can go to bed if we have to be up early to go ring shopping.”

“Yeah,” Beca croaked. “Okay.”

~ ~

~ ~

Beca fell asleep easily, sole credit to the jetlag.

But she woke up two hours later thinking it was time to get up for work only to check her phone to see that it was barely 1:00 am. Any other normal morning at home, she’d have rolled over and fallen right back asleep instead of getting up. But now her brain was awake on New York time and thinking about all the things that happened on their first day on the island.

Chloe changing into her bathing suit. Seeing Chloe drop her robe. Dinner and everyone treating them to the pinnacle of romance. The club. The way Chloe had looked at her, had danced with her, had almost kissed her. Well, she had kissed her, but it was an almost kiss. And the way Chloe had looked at her when she was blathering on and on about rings.

“Can’t sleep?” Chloe murmured next to her.

Her body must have been as restless as her mind. “I’m usually getting up for work right now.” She felt the bed shift and then Chloe’s arm slid around her middle, high enough that Beca had to stop the choking sound from escaping her throat because Chloe’s forearm was definitely touching Beca’s boobs. It was probably an accident, just a miscalculation of an angle, but Chloe didn’t correct it.

She felt lips against her bare shoulder next to the strap of her pajama tank and tried not to shiver. “Pretend you get to sleep in.”

“Trying,” she said with a sigh as she tried to clear her mind of everything yammering in her head.

“Nervous about seeing everybody tomorrow?”

She hadn’t been, but now that Chloe brought it up… “Yeah.”

Chloe squeezed her a little and the motion pushed her arm even more against her boobs. “It’ll be okay. We just have to act like we’re in love.”

Beca sighed but managed to smile a little into the darkness. “I don’t know how good at that I’ll be,” she said, knowing full well she was absolutely head over heels in love with Chloe and no acting would be necessary. She’d been acting like she wasn’t in love with her for years. It would come as a relief to not have to be in a constant mode of restraint. She could take her hand if she wanted, or hug her, or fetch her a fresh drink, or fix an errant lock of hair without raising suspicion.

Chloe chuckled behind her and gave her arm a wiggle. Beca knew it was only meant to jostle her but it scraped right up and over her barely clothed nipples and she shoved her face into her pillow to muffle her gasp.

“I’m pretty sure we know how to act like we’re in love.”

“Mhm,” Beca choked out.

“You know,” Chloe continued and Beca wished more than anything she was narcoleptic so she wouldn’t have to endure it any longer. Her arm started withdrawing and the relief it provided was short-lived because instead of her arm, Chloe’s hand rested on Beca’s stomach. It moved back and forth slowly and Beca wanted to scream. It wasn’t fair, and it was also wrong. She was getting painfully turned on when all Chloe was doing was being her usual touchy self. “People are going to expect us to kiss.”

Beca hadn’t considered that detail in the grand scheme of their scheme. The concept sucked every molecule of oxygen from her lungs. She tried to say, “Oh?” but it came out more like the squawk of one of the parrots she could hear in the trees behind their villa over the sound of the rain. She could feel Chloe’s breath on her shoulder and she twisted her pillow in her fist. It was pure agony.

“Mhm.”

She had to clear her throat because trying to speak failed the first time. “We’ll...cross that bridge when we get to it.” She felt Chloe’s lips on her shoulder again and had to stifle a shiver. The torture needed to end, and fast. “I, uh, think I can fall asleep now.”

“Okay. G’night.”

“Night.”

She didn’t fall asleep for hours.

~ ~

To be continued...

[dyde21]

‘I live in the apartment below yours and I keep getting your mail this needs to stop dammit’ Percabeth!

Thank you for the prompt and sorry for the delay! This took a while to get out. It was very fun though! I really like how it turned out! 

XxXxXxXX

If you had to ask Percy, he would sayhe was a pretty average guy when it came to intelligence. He wasn’ttoo smart, nor did he really think himself too dumb. But for the lifeof him, he could not figure out why Amazon hated him. Or, morespecifically, why it just lied to him consistently. His friend Piperhad finally convinced him to sign up for Amazon Prime, and he finallyunderstood what all the hype was for around it. Having thingsdelivered to his doorstep was amazing. Especially considering itsaved him a trip on the sketchy-at-best subway, and hauling whateverhe bought up to his fourth floor apartment.

Rather, coming homeafter a long day of classes, followed by his volunteer work at thefire station, and finding food and supplies just waiting for him topick up felt like a gift from God. At first he had been hesitant, nottrusting the general New York population to not steal his stuff forobvious reasons, but slowly he found his packages were always safeand waiting for him. So he had been ramping up his orders, slowlyrelying less and less on physical shopping.

Everything wasseemingly perfect, except for one small thing.

Hispackages were always aday late. He had absolutely no idea why either. They always said theywere delivered, but sure enough there’d be nothing waiting outsidehis door. The first time it had happened he had freaked out, but whenhe woke up the next morning, he kicked the box when he was leavingfor classes. Figuring it a fluke, Piper had convinced him to give itanother another try, and sure enough it happened again. His packagewas missing the first day, only to show up in perfect condition thenext. The same thing happened the time after that. And the one afterthat. And the one after that.

After a while,Percy just accepted it as normal. A side effect from living in NewYork, he supposed. If you got hung up on every weird thing thathappened to you in that city, you’d go insane.

So for now, Percyjust planned his life around things arriving a day later. Emails liedto him, his mail had it’s own sense of timing, and Percy was onceagain, victim to the seemingly endless amount of weird shit in hislife.

So when his copy ofhis new game was delivered a day late, he wasn’t too surprised. Whatdid surprised him though, was the very angry note scrawled on top ofit.

“STOP BUYING THINGS.”

Picking up thepackage, Percy quickly went inside before he set it down on thetable.

Did his packagejust yell at him? Maybe Amazon did hate him after all.

Setting it down onhis table, he stared at it for a moment. The handwriting was nice.Like, definitely hand written with care, which was an odd contrast toit’s angry message. Unsure of exactly how to respond, he threw thenote away before opening his package. He figured it could have justbeen an annoyed neighbor who was tired of hearing the deliveryman.He’d ask Piper about it later anyway. Starting up his new game, Percytried to push it out of his mind. He wasn’t going to figure anythingout just by stressing out over it. Sending a text to Piper, hefigured a long day of gaming would be just what his mind needed toget over it and relax again.

When he foundanother note on his next package, Percy finally started to freak outa bit.

“I’M SERIOUS. STOP.”

He texted Piper,who immediately rushed over. By the time she got there, Percy wassitting with the package on the table again.

Piper stared at thenote for a moment. “A girl wrote that.” She offered, before shepaused. “Maybe you should stop ordering.”

Percy groaned,leaning back on the couch dramatically. “I have to give up theblessing of Amazon because someone hates the delivery guy? This soisn’t fair.”

Piper rolled hereyes, nudging him to scoot over so she could sit down. “Let’s see.Every time you order a package, it shows up a day late. Recentlythere’s started being a threatening note on it as well.” Shesummarized, thinking. “When do the packages arrive late?”

Percy thought for amoment. “Either late at night or early morning. It’s never therebefore I go to bed that day, but always there by the time I wake up.”

Piper paused,cracking open her Arizona iced tea and taking a sip. “You know whatthis calls for, right?”

Tilting his head,Percy thought for a moment. “I need a new apartment?”

Rolling her eyes,she gently slapped him upside the head. “No! You need to set atrap.”

Percy squinted hiseyes. “Have you been binging Sherlock again?”

Piper squared hershoulders. “Maybe. But that has nothing to do with this. If someoneis delivering this package late consistently, you just need to catchthem in the act. Order another package, next time it’s delivered,wake up super early then wait outside. That way when the package isbeing dropped off, you can catch the delivery person and ask himwhats up, and figure out why she is leaving an angry note with you.”

“What if she’sdangerous?” Percy asked after a moment of consideration.

Piper raised aneyebrow, glancing at him. “You’re a volunteer fire fighter in greatshape, in a small hallway, surrounded by plenty of people who willcome running if you call for help. I think you’ll be fine.”

Percy pouted.“You’re not concerned for my health at all. I thought we weresupposed to be best friends.”

Piper justshrugged. “I promise to visit you in the hospital if something goeswrong.” She offered, before reaching forward to grab thePlayStation controller.

Percy just sighedand grabbed his laptop, starting to browse Amazon. At least he had anexcuse for an impulse purchase this time.

XxXxXxXxX

Slamming his alarmclock with perhaps a little too much force, Percy groaned and rolledover. He really, really hated waking up early, and getting up at 4:30felt like a sin. No one should be up this early. Still, rememberingwhy he had to get up after a moment was enough motivation.Literally dragging himself out of his bed, he forced himself to walkto the door. He pulled on a shirt, ran a hand through his hair,grabbed his phone and keys, then opened the door. Sure enough, therewas no package yet. Pausing for a moment, he figured he had no optionother than to just sit and wait.

Pulling out hisphone, he scrolled through twitter for a bit, checked snapchats hewas behind on, sending one to Piper for good measure just to prove heactually woke up on time.

Twenty minuteslater, and Percy was now bored and tired.

His eyes feltheavy, his usual habit of still being asleep at this time wasstarting to catch up to him and he felt his body settle down. Hetried to fight it, but a few minutes later and Percy was out cold,bundled up against his door.

When he did finallyawake, it was to someone shaking his shoulders. A very pretty girlwith curly blonde hair and stormy gray eyes was staring at him with acomplicated expression, her lips tight in a line like she couldn’tdecide what to say. After a moment where Percy just stared at her,still 70% asleep, she finally spoke.

“You drool whenyou sleep.”

XxXxXxXxX

When Annabeth camehome to find yet another amazon delivery box on her doorstep,she seriously began to consider if she could adapt to life in prisonfor committing murder.

Seriously, she haslost track of how many times someone else’s packages had shown up ather door. At first she had found it amusing that it was a simplemistake, but then it kept happening over and over again. How couldthis “Percy” not realize?

Between studyingArchitecture in college, and working in a cafe, Annabeth reallydidn’t have the time, or motivation to deal with drama with anotherresident of her apartment complex, so she just found out hisapartment from the clerk in the lobby, and dropped it off on her wayto her early classes the next day. Problem solved.

At least, it shouldhave been. With any normal person, it surely would have been, right?They would have realized something was up and realized that thedelivery address was wrong.

But no, whoeverthis Percy was either hated her, or didn’t care enough to fix it.

Annabeth had beentempted to keep the package for herself, but she didn’t really playgames and judging by the label, it was some game she had never heardof. Well that, and the fact it’d be stealing and all that.

So she had justmade the habit of dropping off his packages and hoping he’d get thehint eventually.

When Annabethtripped over the package going into her apartment, she decided she ithad been the last straw. Calling her friend Jason, she wondered whatthe worst thing she could do to the guy while still avoiding legaltrouble. Instead of being her accomplice, he had decided to be thevoice of reason like the goody two-shoes he was, and told her towrite a note.

Annabeth would goto the grave before she would admit the fact that that had simply…never occurred to her. Her frustrations had lead her down the path ofpetty revenge before any more reasonable alternatives had presentedthemselves.

Decided to take hisadvice, she left a simple note. Straight forward and to the point,just like her.

On the back of thenote she made sure to leave her name and explain that the floornumber was wrong on the shipping address.

Problem solved!

With a smile on herface, she made sure to drop the package off in the morning on her wayto class, feeling a weight being lifted off her shoulder. A monthslong irritation was finally gone.

At least, she hadthought so.

When she came homea few days later to another package, she had let out a sound thatJason had only described as an “unholy shriek.”

She was glad herfriend had decided to study with her that day, otherwise she very maywell have done something stupid.

He had suggestedwriting another note, and taping it to the box. Maybe it had gottenseparated from the package before “Percy” had seen it.

She had writtenanother note, perhaps a little more… aggressive, than her previousone, but she had had a rough week, so sue her. Hopefully he didn’tactually…

Making sure to flipit over, and once again explaining how the wrong floor was on hisshipping address for Amazon. She also included her name again.

Satisfied thatsurely this Percy couldn’t make the same mistake again, Annabethtried to distract herself with studying and once again hoping thatthe problem would be solved.

It turned out theonly thing worse than coming home to a package that she feltobligated to deliver, was never knowing if there was going to be apackage waiting for her. The anticipation was killing her.

On the bright side,that anticipation didn’t last long. Three days later and she foundanother package outside her door. Coincidentally it was around thenthat Annabeth decided Jail might not be so bad after all.

She had calledJason, and together they decided that she would just settle it onceand for all. Instead of leaving the package and a note, she wouldknock on the door until he answered and just settle the confusion inperson. No more passive-aggressive run arounds. Jason had offered tobe there as well, feeling a bit nervous about his friend confrontinga stranger early in a morning in New York, but Annabeth had waved himoff, promising that despite how frustrated she was, she was justgoing to talk to him, and she carried pepper spray with her always.

That’s how Annabethfound herself walking down the annoyingly familiar hallway, runningover the explanation she had planned out in her head over and overagain. It’d be short, simple, polite, and concise. The problem wouldbe solved, and if not she’d talk to Amazon support or the apartmentmanagement. Turning the corner, whatever plan she had vanished fromher mind when she saw someone leaning against “Percy's” door.

She hesitated for amoment, unsure of how to react, before she slowly made her waytowards him. Judging by the rise and fall of his shoulders steadily,he was asleep.

Was he locked out?If he was, Annabeth suddenly found it a lot more plausible that thiswas all a giant, and annoying, misunderstanding. Hesitating, Annabethwasn’t sure how to actually wake him up.

Calling his namemight be weird considering they’ve never spoken before. Kicking himfelt wrong, even if it would have felt a little right… Pausing, shesquatted down in front of him, reaching out only to pause in front ofhis shoulder. Biting her lip, Annabeth gently nudged his shoulder.

The young manslowly stirred, seemingly coming to life as he looked at her, clearlystill mostly asleep. The mess of raven colored hair on his headcontrasted his the sea green eyes that blearily studied her. Atrickle of drool ran down the corner of his mouth, and despite themix of emotions in her, some part of her long-time single mindregistered that he was actually deceptively cute.

Remembering she washere on a mission, she ordered her brain to begin her preparedspeech.

“You drool whenyou sleep.”

…Shit.

That wasn’t part ofit. Abort. Abort. Abort. The whole situation had just caught her offguard, and her train of thought was already off the tracks and onfire in a ditch somewhere.

“Sorry.” Theboy offered quickly, scrambling to stand up before he slammed hishead into the bottom of the doorknob with a loud thud, causing him tocollapse back to the ground, rubbing the top of his head as he groan.

Annabeth bit back alaugh at his expense, biting her lip to hide a smile. Her hands wereawkwardly in front of her, stuck between wanting to help, and notexactly know what to do or say to this stranger. “Are you okay?”A normal statement this time at least.

The boy nodded.“I’m… fine. Ow. Just a mild concussion probably.” He muttered,before something seemed to click in his mind. “Are you… the notelady?”

Annabeth noddedslowly, glad the conversationwas finally heading in the intended direction.

“Pleasedon’t hurt me.” Percy offered, still rubbing the top of his head.

Annabethwinced. Writing notes while upset clearly wasn’t a good idea. Even ifit was annoying, shehad meant to actually threaten him. “I wont. I just… Ilive in the apartment below yours and I keep getting your mail thisneeds to stop dammit.” She erupted suddenly, glad to finally getthat off her chest.

Theboy stared at her confused, and Annabeth could practically see thegears aligning in his head. “Wait, all my packages have been goingto you?”

Annabethnodded, exasperated.

“Didyou get my note?”

Percypaused. “The threats?”

Annabethstared at him. “On the back of those, I explained everything andgave my name.”

Percylooked off to the side, rubbing the back of his neck. “I kindathrew them away after seeing the threat. I didn’t flip them over.”

Annabethcouldn’t believe him, but she also couldn’t completely blame him.Annabeth wouldn’t exactly want to examine any “threats” she gotherself.

Annabethjust dropped her head into her hands. “I can’t believe how longthis went on.”

Percyjust let his head fall back against his door. “So I messed up theshipping address.” He muttered, his face flushing red. “I reallyshould have noticed that.”

Annabethjust gave him a look of disbelief. “What did you think happenedwith all the packages?���

Percyshrugged. “I had no idea, but they always showed up the next day soI figured I would just let it be.”

Annabethjust sighed, but couldn’t exactly blame him once again. Annabeth haddealt with her own share of weird stuff in her life, sometimes notquestioning things was the best option.

Annabethjust sighed. “Well fix it please. Also… you might wanna lay offyour orders.” She offered with an eye roll.

Percyjust laughed sheepishly. “I”ll fix it tonight, I promise.”

Nodding,Annabeth stood up, suddenly finding a lack of conversation to talkabout.

“Aslong as this is fixed…” She offered, a little lamely.

Percystood up suddenly. “Wait… can I get your name at least?”

Caughtoff guard, she nodded. “Annabeth Chase.”

Percysmiled, offering his hand. “Percy Jackson.”

Rollingher eyes, Annabeth shook his hand. “I know.”

Pausingfor a moment, Annabeth waved before she started to walk away,figuring the situation was resolved.

“Hey…”He interrupted again, hesitance in his voice clearly.

Annabethturned around again, raising an eyebrow at the clear stress he seemedto be feeling.

“Dinner…I feel bad for having you be my courier for so long. Can I get youdinner to make up for it?” He asked, only making fleeting eyecontact as his gaze flickered everywhere else. She noticed his cheekswere flushed, and that only caused her own cheeks to feel warm.

Hereyes flicked over his form.

Well…he was cute. At least a little. Plus he did kinda owe her…

“Areyou free around 7? That’s when my shift ends.” She offered, tryingto keep her voice steady. She was so out of practice withstuff like this.

Percynodded, perhaps a bit too eagerly. “Meet you in the lobby?”

Annabethnodded, flashing him a smile before she waved to head off to herclass.

Thesecond she left the building, Jason found his phone exploding with alot of frantic texts.

Ifshe had seemed a little distracted during classes that day, Annabethwould just insist she had a lot of her mind. When Jason pointed outthe small smile she seemed to be wearing the whole day, she justkicked his shin and mumbled out something about being relieved thatan annoyance was gone.

WhenAnnabeth finally made her way down to the lobby, her heart wasgripped with fear for a moment that he wouldn’t actually be there,and this was all some cruel prank for her threatening notes.

Sureenough though, she found him chilling in one of the large chairs. Hewas dressed for a casual night out, much to Annabeth’s relief as shehad gambled that was the proper dress attire for the night as well,and he had seemingly attempted to comb his hair. It hadn’t done muchto restrain the messy black locks on his hair, but she appreciatedthe attempt.

“Ready?”She asked, raising an eyebrow.

WhenPercy saw her, his eyes lit up and he hopped up. “Of course!”

Annabethwasn’t exactly sure how she expected the definitely-not-a-date to go,but he had taken her to his favorite pizza place. It also turned outthat he was surprisingly easy to talk to. She had found out he alsoattended her school, was attending for marine biology, volunteered asa fire fighter, and got way too excited about surfing. Shefigured it would have been a quick dinner, but she was definitelysurprised when she had noticed two hours had passed with themchatting in that pizzeria.

Ithad been Annabeth’s turn to be bold when they exchanged numbers atthe end of the night, and Annabeth was pretty satisfied that she hadmanaged to make a new friend.

Atleast, until she woke up a few days later and found another box infront of her door. Before she could smash his door in and throw it athim, she noticed something was different about this box. It actuallyhad her name on it.

Cautiouslyshe opened it up, unsure of what to expect. What she found made herheart skip a beat.

Insidewas only what could be described as a care package.

Itwas a combination of her favorite chocolate, a box of her favoritetea, the new romcom she had fallen in love with, and a finding nemoplushy. All things she had mentioned liking off handedly to Percy’squestions during their dinner. Never in a million years would shehave expected him to actually remember what she had said, let aloneget her a gift. At least aside from the plush, that seemed to bePercy’s own addition.

Ithad taken her half the day to figure out just what to text him inthanks. Her message had been simple, but a few days later Percy wouldwake up to find a package of his own waiting outside his door.Luckily Annabeth had seen the content list enough times on hispackages that she had a pretty good idea of what he liked, aside fromwhat he had mentioned on their dinner.

Whenshe had received a text that was little more than a string ofexclamation points and random capitalized letters, she figured shehad guessed pretty well.

Shortlyafter she had received an invite to go bowling with Percy and hisfriend Piper, Annabeth may had agreed a little too quickly, aftersecuring an invite for her friend Jason as well.

Thenext morning Annabeth had found another package waiting for heroutside. Opening it with a sigh, pulling out her favorite chocolate,Annabeth finally caved and bought Amazon prime as she began browsing.Snacking on the chocolate with a small smile, Annabeth figured she’dprobably get plenty of use out of Amazon prime as she made sure tosave a secondary address to her account.

Afew years later, Annabeth would be glad she no longer had to worryabout getting someone else’s mail when Percy and herself startedsharing an address.

XxXxXxXxX

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! I really love the idea of Percy and Annabeth sending packages back and forth occasionally as flirting. Anyway, this was one of the many prompts I have in my inbox, feel free to suggest more from THIS LIST.

[builder051]

He lives to run

For @royalermine.  I’ve had these scenes in my head for a while now, but once I tried to put them on the page, they started to shape themselves around the events in Royal’s I, Zola. 

(It’s a great read, but if you don’t have time for the novel-length wonder, a basic summary is that new evidence comes to light showing that while Zola was the brains behind the winter soldier project, he was less of a monster and more of a man caught up in impossible circumstances.  That’s all you really need to know in order for my fic to make sense, but if you’re looking for recs, well, there you go.)

This falls comfortably into Heroverse, even though it pulls in Royal’s missing moment/subplot.  We’re still in that ‘post-CA:CW Steve and Bucky working for (reestablished) SHIELD as boyfriend heroes’ place.

_____

Bucky starts to pale during the pre-mission briefing.  He slumps in his chair and rests his elbows on the conference table as they watch the slideshow of maps and aerial photos of a not-entirely-decommissioned HYDRA base.  Steve steals a glance at him from the corner of his eye, then returns his attention to the presentation.

“Some of the names we’ve attached to the faces have a history,” Fury says, zooming in on a picture of a man in a black coat slinking along the perimeter fence.  It’s so grainy Steve can barely pick out his features.  He’s stopped wondering how SHIELD’s facial recognition technology works, but he doesn’t think it’ll ever cease to amaze him.  “This one’s former KBG.  With ties to Russia and Germany.”

Bucky gives a noncommittal grunt and reaches for the coffee carafe.  He tops off his cup, then stares into the dark liquid as Fury progresses to the next photo.

“Some of them, not so much.”  The director tightens up on another face.  “CalTech professors don’t have a lot of reason to be in Siberian bunkers, if you get my drift.”

Steve nods.  He’s used to jobs like this: bring back the hostages; leave the bad guys in a pile on the floor.  If there are in fact both.  He feels better about the outcome if he winds up evacuating a few civilians, but there’s something invigorating about fighting alongside Bucky, communicating in nods and glances to coordinate maneuvers they can laugh about on the plane ride home.  It reminds him of the Howling Commandos days, and even of the days before that, when they talked through baseball games as they walked home on muggy summer nights.

But there’s a long way to go before they get to that point, if they do at all.  “Any evidence they’re keeping him there against his will?” Steve asks.  He looks at Bucky again.  It feels wrong to make a bigger deal of Bucky’s trauma than Bucky does himself, but left to his own devices, Bucky would probably  never bring it up.

“Not directly, but we have reports of chemicals and lab equipment arriving at the location two weeks before Professor Carlisle did,” Fury answers.  “And this from the security camera outside his house in Pasadena.”  He advances to the next image.  A half-dozen newspapers sit strewn across the porch, along with a soggy-looking Amazon package.

“So,” Steve says slowly.  “They knew he was coming.  But he didn’t know he was leaving.”

“Exactly,” Fury says.  “Five more brilliant minds from around the country have gone missing.  Carlisle’s the only one we’ve captured on film, but it’s feasible that all of them could be here.  And with the four agents we’ve also seen, that’s ten possible opponents.”

“Or just four HYDRA with the rest as hostages,” Steve counters.

“Or any combination in between,” Fury finishes.  “Plan for the worst, hope for the best.”

Bucky scoffs.  He takes a long gulp of his coffee and sets the cup down hard.  A little splashes over the edges. Steve notices he has the handle of the mug gripped in his left hand, the light glinting off his shiny silver knuckles.  His right is balled into a fist on the table.

“You ok?” Steve asks softly.

“Yeah.”  Bucky scrapes his thumb over lip of the mug, picking at a crack in the glaze.  “I’m fine.”

“Ok.”  He doesn’t push it, but Steve drops his palm over Bucky’s clenched fist.  He asks Fury, “Know what they’re trying to do?”

“No.  Not really.”  Fury flicks the slideshow forward to show a scanned image of a shipping receipt.  It’s difficult to read through creases and garbage stains.  “The chemicals are listed here.”  Fury points.  “It’s all common enough stuff.  Every hospital and university on the planet stocks the same things.  It’s like...trying to do a crossword when all you have are the blanks.  No clues, and every letter of the alphabet is up for grabs.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs.  “And we don’t go around doing searches and seizures in hospitals and universities, so, benefit of the doubt, I guess.”

“And that’s where we trust your discretion.  And your expertise.”

Bucky’s hand starts to vibrate under Steve’s, a miniscule, fast-paced tremor that carries up his arm and furthers the slouch in his shoulders.  Steve feels like he’s shaking too, though the movement he absorbs stops at his wrist.

“Buck?”  Steve strokes the back of his hand.  “What’s--?”

But he doesn’t get to finish the question.  Bucky audibly grinds his teeth, then shoves his chair back from the table and tears for the door.

“Buck, wait,” Steve calls after him, getting to his feet. But the door to the conference room slams.

“Shit,” Steve mutters. “Sorry.” He looks at Fury.

“No, don’t be.” Fury raises one eyebrow. “He alright?”

“I don’t know,” Steve says. “I mean, generally, yes. But... I don’t know.”

“You know what I mean.” Fury presses a button on the wall, and the holographic screen vanishes. The room feels dark without it. “Do I need to bring in another team? Barton and Romanov are on call, but...” He shakes his head.

Steve lets out his breath. “ I don’t know,” he says again. “Give me a minute with him.” He doesn’t wait for permission to step toward the door.

Bucky stands in the hall, hunched over with his back to Steve. He keeps his head down as Steve softly says his name.

“Bucky?”  Steve approaches slowly, but not quietly.  Being a little on edge is helpful for missions, but sneaking up on him will do more harm than good now.

Bucky’s shoulders rise and fall with the rhythm of breath that comes too fast. His right hand embeds in his hair, and his left rises slowly toward the wall. Steve isn’t sure if he’s going to steady himself or punch it.

“Hey. It’s alright.” Steve reaches for him. The tips of his fingers barely brush the thick fabric of Bucky’s tactical vest, but Bucky cringes and pulls away again. A strangled noise comes from his throat, and he trips down the hall toward the bathroom.

Steve curses under his breath.  If Bucky wants privacy to get himself under control, Steve should let him have it.  It’s hard to stand in the hall and know Bucky’s falling apart on the other side of the door, but Steve’s willing to try.  For a few minutes at least.

But then Bucky starts gasping.  Then retching.  A choked string of profanities reaches Steve’s ears along with the sound of liquid hitting toilet water.  

“Aw, Buck,” Steve sighs.  He paces back and forth in front of the bathroom door.  He’ll give him five minutes. He’ll give him three.  He’ll give him ninety seconds…

Not quite a minute passes, and Steve still can’t decide on a course of action.  But then Bucky heaves again, and this time it turns to a different sound.  A primal sob that’s a hack and a wail all at once.

It doesn’t matter that Bucky locked the door.  Steve breaks the bolt with one good shove  and runs to Bucky’s side, skidding the last couple yards on his knees like a batter scrambling for home plate.  

“It’s ok,” Steve says, trying to breathe and speak at the same time.  The last thing he wants is for the franticness in his voice to feed Bucky’s panic.  “Alright.  It’s alright.”  He sweeps Bucky’s hair out of his face and strokes it down his neck.  The exposed skin above his collar is damp with clammy sweat.  

Strings of vomit and mucous hang from Bucky’s lips and sway over the toilet bowl.  His adam’s apple bobs up and down.  He draws in a quavering, wet-sounding breath and immediately begins to cough and sputter.  

“”Ok, ok, Buck.”  Steve pats him between the shoulder blades, hoping to break up whatever he’s choking on.  “Breathe.  I got you.”

Air moves audibly in and out, rattling through Bucky’s throat.  Steve’s lungs burn in sympathy.  It’s clear Bucky’s suffering physically, but Steve has no idea where he is mentally.  He wraps his hands around Bucky’s trembling biceps and presses his chest to his back, desperate to ground him.

“It’s ok,” Steve intones.  “Get your breath.  It’s ok.”

But it’s not working.  Bucky gags harshly, bringing up coffee and acid all over the toilet seat.  A low whine escapes his lips, and he breaks into a fit of deep coughs.

“Come on, Buck.  Calm down.”  It’s probably the worst thing he can say, but Steve can’t stop himself.  “Calm down, please, Buck.  Calm down.”  

He’s been to the therapy sessions.  He knows Bucky can’t help it.  He knows some words carry double meanings, encoded messages that can be intentional or not.  They can be born of cruel brainwashing or just the ebb and flow of social norms.  A lot of things might be different now from the way the were in ‘45, but the world still has a hard time with men showing their feelings.

But I don’t, Steve thinks.  It’s fine, Buck.  I wish I could help you calm down.  I wish I could flip a switch and take it all away…

Bucky heaves again, and this time Steve feels nauseous too.  What is he doing?  Of course he doesn’t wish that.  Taking away Bucky’s autonomy and free will is still a crime, no matter how good his intentions.  Even though he’s said none of it aloud, Steve still feels the need to apologize.

“I’m sorry.”  He dips his chin, his temple brushing past Bucky’s ear.  “I’m so sorry, Buck.”  Steve can’t think of anything else to say, so he just sits there holding him, letting his legs go numb and praying Bucky understands.  

Finally the tension begins to ease.  There’s more space between the sobs.  Bucky’s muscles loosen, and he melts into a lax heap sandwiched between Steve and the toilet.  

Steve lets out a breath of relief.  He brushes a lock of sweat-damp hair out of Bucky’s eyes, then erases a tear track from his cheek.  “Ok,” he whispers.  “You back with me?”

“Hm.”

Steve can’t help but smile.  It’s a small response, but it’s music to Steve’s ears.  Bucky may be tender and sick and in no shape for a mission, but at least Steve has him again.  “That’s good,” he whispers.

Bucky slowly reaches up to flush the toilet.  He shifts to a more upright seated position, then blinks at Steve.  He opens his mouth, his brow furrowing as he searches for words.

Steve’s working on being patient, on letting Bucky voice his thoughts at his own pace.  He’s getting better at it, but as their therapist often points out, change takes time.  It’s still easier to give him choices.  “Do you feel up to going home?” Steve asks.  “I just have to talk to Fury for a minute, then we can go.  Or we can stay here.”

“No.”  The force of it surprises Steve.  Bucky’s weak and breathless, but his tone is clear.  “No...I…”  He swallows.  “We have to--”

“Buck…”  Steve shakes his head.  “You‘re not feeling good.  Someone else can go.”

“But it’s our mission,”  Bucky protests.  “I have to do it.”

“No, you don’t.”  Steve squeezes his shoulder.  “You’re allowed to turn it down.  And...this time I think you probably should.”

“But...what they’re doing, who knows how many innocent lives are at stake.”

“You’re right,” Steve says.  “We don’t know.  It’s like Fury said.  It’s a puzzle with no clues.”

“No!”  Bucky slams his fist down on the toilet seat.  “You just don’t want to see it.  Chemicals.  Lab shit.  Abducted scientists.  What do you think they’re doing, Steve?”  The threat of tears creeps into his tone again, along with anger and blatant obviousness.  

Steve sighs.  Of course he’s thought about it. He thinks about it all the time, even when Fury’s not showing them pictures from HYDRA’s trash can and telling them to go fetch.  What if they revitalized the program?  What if what happened to Bucky happens to someone else?  How would he feel about fighting them, now that he’s seen the love of his life fall apart and try desperately to pick up the pieces?

But they’re back to Bucky’s trauma again.  Steve doesn’t go there unless Bucky does first.  And now that they are there, Steve would rather stay silent.  He can’t, though.  Not with Bucky looking at him like that.

“They hurt you, Buck,” Steve says softly.  “I know you’re upset about it.”  That doesn’t begin to cover it.  “I am too.  But you don’t have to go after justice.  It matters more that you’re ok.”

“It’s not about me.”  Bucky’s voice drops to somewhere between a whisper and a growl.  “If they’re doing the same thing over again, they’ve got some new guy locked up in a cage.  Maybe some kid, maybe someone...someone like Wanda.”

Even in his less than stable state, Bucky’s playing to Steve’s sensibilities.  He knows exactly what buttons to push.  He always has.  If Steve weren’t so grateful Bucky’s communicating at all, he’d hate to admit that it’s working.  He can’t contradict him.  “Buck…”  Steve bites his lip.

“No, listen.”  Bucky’s jaw trembles.  He pulls in a congested breath, then twitches, and he suddenly has a handful of Steve’s collar clenched in his metal fist.  “They’re…  Fuck, Steve, they’re gonna do what they did to Zola.  Six times over.”  Bucky’s face is inches from Steve’s.  A vein throbs in his forehead, and moisture glistens in his eyelashes and moustache.  “Prisoners manipulated into killing their own families, it ain’t exactly new.  How many of those doctors were married, huh?  Fury didn’t feel like putting a number on that for us.”

“He might not know,” Steve murmurs.  He holds as still as he possibly can.  He trusts Bucky not to hurt him.  Not on purpose.  But Bucky’s dangerous.  He’s just as strong as Steve is, both in body and stubbornness.  They share protective instincts, too.  It makes them a good team, but it makes their conflicts bitter, each of them ending up with more defensive wounds than strikes landed.

“I don’t buy it.”  Bucky’s breathing speeds up again, puffs of warm air hitting Steve’s cheeks and making the whole room smell like fear and bile.  “I don’t fucking buy it.”

Bucky’s right.  About the whole thing, probably.  Steve’s all for innocent until proven otherwise, but Occam’s razor is enough to tell him that’s most likely not the case here.  Their worst fears about HYDRA are coming true.  And Bucky’s probably the best-equipped of all of them to take them down.  Except that he can’t, not without destroying himself.  If he does, he’s taking Steve down with him.

Fury will take one look at Bucky and declare him unfit to fly, let alone fight.  Steve’s not worried about physical danger.  It’s Bucky’s progress that’s in jeopardy.  Recovery isn’t linear; they’ve established that.  But how does he tell the beautiful, powerful man in his arms that doing the right thing is, in this case, the wrong thing?  

Bucky has the first shred of autonomy he’s had in over 70 years.  He’s just beginning to get over the stumbling block of Zola’s tape, to not look sad anymore when they walk into the SHIELD building where the doctor’s body had been found.

Steve can’t tell Bucky what to do.  His conscience won’t let him.  So he does the next best thing and closes the gap between their bodies, pulling Bucky against his chest.  He’s stiff in Steve’s arms for a moment, then his head drops to Steve’s shoulder, and the grip of his metal hand loosens until his palm is flat over Steve’s sternum.

“Sometimes,” Steve whispers, blinking back tears, “You just gotta take care of you.  And if you’re not, then I’m damn well gonna try.”

Bucky doesn’t reply.  He’s past words again, and crying into the fabric of Steve’s uniform.  But he shifts slightly, pushing upward until the top of his head fills the space below Steve’s chin.  He leaves no gap.  And no uncertainty.

[heatkerlon]

Samorost 1 download

Well yeah, I did get that impression from reading what the crew has to say on a bunch of stuff on the forums, especially since that whole SAVE KQ9 thing, it's all gone to their heads. I once posted that I didnt like the shadows and flame effects and the entire thread was taken off and the forum threatened with a lawsuit. Add that with the fact that the teams more bored people surf the web for posts like this one and then try to shut down sites that even hint the game might stink. many TSL people were either fired or quit due to issues with the team. Just know there was an original kq9 project worked on called "It takes two to tangle" and. nothing was wrong with kq7!!! it was like kq4!! just new! I loved the art style in kq7 it was like vampyre story without being as dark!įor more facts based on this subject lemme know in pm. I have alot of info that I cant discuss or TSL might come here and tell telltale to shut down the forum. They literally raped stole and pillaged to get where they are, and are a bunch of kid jerks unlike telltales awesome crew.Īnyway its a personal inside view. Stay awaaaay from César Bittar and the TSL project. Without causing a massive war just know even Scott Murphy who was backing TSL is now. shrewd and dont care about anyone or anything but themselves. Sorry I have to say this right now but the TSL crew. As you switch between the databases to uncover new details, an extensive sci-fi story unfolds. As the plot develops, you acquire accompanying information by accessing eleven additional databases - for example a historical archive, military files or social backgrounds. The story of the boy Peter Devore, his incredible discovery and the mysterious portal are told by an AI named Homer, who reconstructs it piece by piece out of database fragments. Portal is a unique attempt of creating and adapting a novel specifically for the computer. The answer must lie deep in its database. Between the decaying remnants of civilization, you discover a terminal for Worldnet, the global network that recorded all human activities. Where are all the humans? Upon returning from your 100 year voyage in the milky way, you find earth empty and abandoned. One of my all time favorites is Portal from Acitvision on the Amiga, although not a typical point and click adventure. Generally if you don't have a nice local store you might want to buy new stuff via Amazon and old stuff via eBay. I don't have so much time to dig them all out now but here are two links which might help you: Only played the Runaways and well nothing to get excited about.Īnd and and.there are so many. I didn't like part one and never played part two but others say that Dreamfall is much better. The bigger the number the worse they got. Part 1 is one of the best adventures ever made! The others are good to okayish. TTG helped out on the concept of Ankh 1, right? If you buy Ankh then watch out for the gold version as this package contains both, Ankh 1 Special Edition and Ankh 2. O Ankh 1+2 (Ankh 1 is also available for osx and linux (ported by ), Ankh 2 will be ported too.)