#thinking about taking another swing at making comics instead of working on novels

[taiblogcomics]

My Little Taury: Friendship is Parodic

Hey there, sheep of your dreams. A rare update for Leap Day! Honestly, couldn't have picked a better series for this to happen during. Seems fitting, no?

Here's the cover:

All right, now you kind of see why I wanted to review this series, eh~? So here are the Taurs, the MLP/Smurfs hybrids that closed out last issue. We'll be getting to know them a bit more closely in this one, so that's all I'll tell you here. Instead, let's analyse these cutie marks. There's some classically evil stuff: skull and crossbones, inverted pentagram, Bill Cipher… A couple over here have Backstabber and Money=Power… Easily the most baffling one is the "stock woman on truck's mudflaps silhouette". What kinda traits does that confer~?

Our hero(?) Steve Harmon wishes to rid himself of his Slapstick persona, and to that end, he's hired tech goon Quasimodo to research a solution. Since Dimension Ecch gave him his powers, a trip back should undo it. They open a makeshift portal, but are detected and apprehended by SHIELD offshoot ARMOR before they can use it. Turns out there's been a rash of incursions from the dimension, including Bro-Man last issue, and they want to know the connection. When another incursion occurs and the Taurs invade, Slapstick volunteers to take care of it to throw ARMOR off his scent.

We actually join this issue by checking in with Slapstick's buddy Mike, who's working at an art supply shop in a mall in Paramus. He's recounting the events of last issue to his co-worker Jenny, noting how it'll make a great scene for his graphic novel. She's mostly feigning interest, privately thinking how it won't last six issues. Yes, very droll, a wink and a nod to the fourth wall. Except Mike's pitching a graphic novel. They aren't sold issue by issue. Maybe Jenny doesn't know that, but I do, and the distinction is something I love to nitpick~

While Mike continues to go on about presenting it at New York Comic Con, he suddenly feels a sudden sharp pain. He turns to find himself being attacked by one of the Taurs. He yells for Jenny that one of the high-end toys from Kay-Bee has gone Westworld, but that doesn't make any sense. Kay-Bee Toys went out of business in 2009! He seizes the Taur, berating it for breaking the First Law of Robotics, only to now have a view outside into the rest of the mall. The rest of the Taurs are running a slaughter over the other mall patrons.

Slapstick is teleported in, and he starts gleefully going to town on the Taurs. It's a fun fight scene, because keep in mind the Taurs are exactly as small as you think. Basically the size of a FiM brushable pony. Less than six inches tall, I'd say. So while Slapstick has the size on them, the Taurs have the numbers, evening the odds. They also have pointier weapons, at least at first. Once they jab him in the eyes, Slapstick utters the utterly immortal lines "No more Mr. Nice Clown! I'm reaching into my angry pants!" God, I love comic books.

Thankfully, Slapstick has no junk, so he won't be arrested for this. Instead, what he pulls from his pants is Bro-Man's sword. It's already been proven that this sword can cut through electroplasm creatures (but not actually kill them), and it's just as effective on the Taurs as it was at bisecting Bro-Man. In fact, it can cut through anything, and Slapstick's wild swinging unfortunately has him cut through a load-bearing support beam to the level above, collapsing part of the mall's walkway on top of him, losing the sword in the rubble.

Before the Taurs can advance again, they're halted by some weapons above. Mike and Jenny turn up, having raided the crafting store they work in to deck themselves out in post-apocalypse armour and makeshift weapons. This gives Slapstick the chance to haul himself out of the heap, where he finds another Taur in his hair. Before he can heave the invader, she has him halt. Introducing herself as Taurette (which thankfully does not lead to the joke you probably think it might), she offers to help Slapstick defeat her brethren if he spares her.

See, she's the only female among her people, and thus is constantly subject to taursplaining and the male gaze. So she requests asylum on the champion's world. Slapstick agrees, not bothering to tell her that his own people are just as bad. She tells them that the Taurs fear only one thing: the Sorceror Supreme of their dimension, Gorgonzola. He's a wizard who's out to capture the Taurs because they excrete gold. Well, at least he doesn't want to eat them. Slapstick gets a crafty look in his eye. Appropriate, since they're also holed up in the craft store.

As the Taurs--led by their red-hatted, bearded leader, Patriarchy Taur--prepare to regroup, suddenly another bearded figure in red flies overhead. The wizard Gorgonzola declares the Taurs have no refuge from his magic in this realm. In close-up, however, it's clearly Mike being hoisted by a rope, while Taurette hides in his fake beard and feeds him lines. The Taurs all soil themselves in terror--which, I remind you, means they all shit out gold nuggets. The sight of all that wealth gets the better of Slapstick, and he drops the rope he's hoisting Mike/Gorgonzola with, right on top of the Taurs.

The Taurs fortunately don't grasp the deception, but they do notice "Gorgonzola" has Taurette, and attempt to recapture her back to their village. Slapstick re-seizes the rope and swings into the fray, pulling Mike aside. He grabs Taurette from the horde, and not knowing how else to protect her, stuffs her down his inter-dimensional pants. Being stuffed down a clown's pants would traumatise anyone, and Taurette snaps at having to cope with this. She declares she will never be a damsel in distress again and grabs a nearby pocket knife defiantly.

Cutting a hole to free herself, Taurette bursts out of Slapstick's pants, causing a load of his stored objects to also come spilling out. Though briefy embarassed at being in his briefs, Slapstick tells Mike and Taurette to run for it while he holds them off. He doesn't initially have a plan until he spots something among the junk: the robot gun-arm he took from Quasimodo in issue 1. The one that shoots a horrifying electroplasm-disrupting beam. He immediately begins scrambling the Taurs into colourful puddles of goo.

The beam only destabilises them, however, it doesn't kill them. They're still alive and aware, and the big pastel puddle begins swirling around Slapstick. Before he can drown in a pool of Taur juices, the ARMOR agents show up with a big vacuum containment device, sucking up the goo formally known as the Taurs. Taurette buddies up to the competent women who just saved the day, while Slapstick tries not to make an ass of himself despite being literally caught with his pants down. The agent he's crushing on gives him a number to call if another incursion happens, and he treats it like a personal number.

The agents depart with Taurette, and Slapstick and Mike leave with the Taurs' golden leavings. A few days go by, and Mike drops by Slapstick's (parents') house to show off having redrawn his comic pages again. At least he's perfecting his craft! He finds Slapstick hopped up on coffee, having spent the last few days re-creating the portal to Dimension Ecch, deliberately in spite of ARMOR's warnings. Unfortunately, as the comic ends, he didn't successfully remake the portal--he made a device that ports Dimension Ecch's nonsense to this dimension, bringing several inanimate objects to cartoony life~

Well, this issue's a lot of fun. It's the least excessively-violent so far, only a bit of blood at the beginning. The Taurs being hyper violent is an excellent joke, contrasting how gentle their two blending series (My Little Pony and The Smurfs) are. The issue is a lot of fight scenes, but it's a lot of cartoony fun in the fight scenes. Most of the comics I complain about just being an issue of fight scenes (see: The Culling or any given Suicide Squad issue) are just schlocky action movie fodder, while this one is more like a stereotypical episode of Tom & Jerry. And also, despite this series not being above lowbrow, crude humour--the jockstrap pile, the Taurs crapping gold, all the mentions of Slapstick's dingus--I applaud it for knowing where the line is and not doing the obvious joke regarding Taurette's name. Kudos, comic~

[lakelake-art]

working on some world building for a project

[faorism]

needing the au to drop wherein i can commit to writing a historical au,, because since i first watched the db cooper job my mind went straight to OT3! OT3! OT3! (unlike with the van gogh job, since i aint playing with that fucking lieutenant)

one day maybe one dayyyyy i will sit down and i will write the ot3 into that episode's story. so, it'll be the backgrounds for the characters in the flashback (so, stephanie ritter, steve reynolds, and reggie wilkins), but with the necessary personality adjustments (parker, eliot, and hardison respectively). basically, vintage ot3 with some hot as hell aesthetics and secrets and avoiding as much as possible producing copraganda.

so. my thoughts. what i see happening. and this got super long so im throwing this under a cut. and for ease i will call them by their modern day canon names except when making a point.

first, general thoughts about the characters.

and so: steve to eliot. nothing much here on the surface. eliot still volunteers, too much an indoctrinated white man to have been forcibly drafted. so its still one man gone to war. one man come back. eliot would had been noticed early in training for his ability to pick shit up, and they teased at maybe sending him to a special unit. maybe they do, or maybe they don't because they just need to funnel fuckers to the jungle. the vietnam invasion was a terrorist imperialist venture and there's no romanticizing from me about anything done being at all valorous or special or brother-in-arms'y. and eliot commits war crimes under the american stars and stripes instead of just to keep moreau's champaign running. but also maybe moreau is eliot's superior. he certainly would have been rewarded for this ruthlessness. (eliot of course strove to impress moreau because there aint an eliot spencer who wasn't that man's dog at some point, i!!!! dont make the rules). eliot's friend died and eliot's gone off to carry out his wishes and moreau lets him because he Knows eliot is gonna come back. whether its to come back to the same squad, or follow him into deeper spy shit for the military, or to fuck off and go private. then eliot meets parker.

now. stephanie to parker. beth plays normal so well im mad at her, but there's something edgy and strategic about stephanie that i think parker can grab onto. i feel that maybe she was kind of a thief still, but there's more realism to this world so archie wasnt a super secret spy with lasers to practice with, but just a guy with sticky fingers whos a little bored and wants a protege. parker is good really good at what she does, and not having to deal with lasers makes me easy. but she's into scams that are less grifts and more Catch Me If You Can slight of hands. she's always looking for easy money (she was into lifting cars at one point! literally she follows where the crime is). she's doing something in an airport and someone tries to recruit her as a flight attendant because she's got the Look. and yall, flight attendants? that shit was like being a model and an astronaut and a time traveler back then. and according to a teacher i had, who once worked as in the f.a. union, those ladies back in the day were rad and queer and free spirited and runnnnning shit. i think, yes, it's a Job which i think we might resist placing parker into. but! of the jobs, at the time, i really see her rocking it during the time period. (also come on, the opportunities to swindle distracted people of their shit would be endless. they would just think they dropped their stuff in the airport! not that it was stolen.)

finally, reggie to alec. i think hardison will be the hardest to translate. even tho i admittedly listen to a lot of true crime podcasts, i dont know much about fbi life and also definitely don't know about it historically. part of me desperately wants to put him somewhere else even if it does have to stay within the fbi. i might cheat and make him like a Q(uartermaster) to 007/00s like in james bond, and he's like UGH this is horrible god i hate working for the fbi but they will give me funding so...... anyway, here's this totally cool [radio term]. that said, if hardison is stuck in the fbi, why he ends up there is that he is a fucking savant when it comes to research and the man can put together a presentation like no one else. that white man gets all the credit for profiling but it was hardison who goddamn was the google of the microfilm days. reggie felt super square but that might be because he had to deal with mcsweeties db cooper shit day in and day out for years. hardison is more himself. and definitely still a nerd. alec would be into dime fantasy novels and comics and ham radios and oh god he also would be into star trek like the original star trek as it came out and he would be into the zines yes! yessss. omg. also he plays a mean arcade cabinet. but he's mostly well adjusted but lonely. his colleagues dont appreciate him because fbi esp during that time were fucking wilding out and racist as hell aaaaaand im sorry im srry im trying so hard to have fbi hardison make sense but also! acab. ANYWAY.

second, the relationship

i think it would be fun to play with what it means to have parker/eliot start off first and bring in hardison afterwards. (if white collar is your thing, it would be like this canon divergent ot3 fic wherein peter burke is the last to join in.) i feel they would be Super Intense esp since they are carrying this big ass secret. kind of broken and dysfunctional and there's the passion and the commitment, but i think there's also a tenderness that's super hard for them to achieve? and i think there's a way that hardison plays such an important part in who they are and how they are. like, sure i think parker/eliot would have joy but they won't have levity. they would have compassion but they won't have gentleness.

eliot meets hardison after being recruited by nate. i think they get close because while nate and eliot have an interesting and compelling mentorship/friendship, nate is still eliots superior; sometimes its nice to complain about your boss, as hardison will say to eliot to try to make friends. i think hardison and eliot would become legit friends and not just work buddies because they are just not cut out of the same cloth as the rest of their colleagues. they grab beers after work. after hard days, hardison cajoles eliot into going to the arcade. they are friends. real real truly deep best friends, in a way hardison didn't think he could have with a fed and eliot didnt think he would have after his friend died. but also? they are like "buds" who are buds who are desperately tryna to cross any lines because there's a.... tension? an UST between them they dont know what to do with.

parker meets eliot by way of a "lets have my friend for dinner, he's a blast." and immediately immediately hardison is like... wow this woman is beautiful but like, really attracted to her personality. and parker things hardison is kinda dorky but cute dorkie? anyway, they have a puppy love situation growing. and it keeps growing until bam. eliot and parker are like. are we into alec???? fuck we are aren't we.

i think stephanie and steve would never tell reggie (even if somehow they were to be a thing). but parker and eliot? hell yeah they tell hardison. eventually. after a while. sooner than maybe they should. the tension if they should say something is one of the things that build up as UST between them for so long; parker and eliot know they are carrying this huge thing. two huge things. eliot being db cooper and also their massive crush on him.

if i could control myself to stick to a pwp, it would be another christmas. maybe the christmas nine (more?) years down the road. the damn snow grounded hardison's flight back to his nana's, and parker and eliot hear this and invite him over. the egg nog gets flowing and parker eventually is like,, fuck this. and comes onto hardison. and hardison would be like wow wow what but... idk, free love and swinging were In The Thoughts And Minds Of The People. he still checks in with eliot who is like. her body, man; i aint gonna tell her what to do. and for a sec hardison is like, man is this a cuck situation? i guess i can be for it but also...... aint mad if i aint alone. and eliot is so grateful and idk. i just want them all to be happy and having fun and no one to be left out. and yeah i am kinda brushing over a lot of the racial politics which, in a more developed fic rather than a pwp, would definitely need to be brought in; but idk that needs to just be in the bedrock of whatever plot is going into this.

it takes a lot of maneuvering of their lives but they make it work and eventually hardison is a keeper of eliot's secret too.

(apart from the historical aspect, another reason i probably won't actually write this is because i know myself. i would want to do worldbuilding. i would follow eliot and alec to their jobs, but i wouldnt want to write outright copaganda. the grit/realism i would be comfortable with would take a level of research i dont think i can commit to. but if someone wants to take this up or if you figure out a way around this issue, pls do i wont be mad)

[lykegenia]

Nate Sewell x Leah Kingston, hurt/comfort

--

I manage to make it all the way to my apartment and into pyjamas before I wobble. It’s just as well – getting into a crash because I was too teary-eyed to see the road would have been an embarrassing way to go – and at least the hour is late enough that none of my neighbours are around to bear witness to my return. Now that there’s time and distance between me and the warehouse, the adrenalin has faded enough for my stomach to start growling again. Hunger is a practical problem, one that I know how to solve.

Nothing in the fridge will make a proper meal, but the jar of kimchi and the leftover sausages can be cobbled together with one of the packets of instant ramen Nate shoved to the back of my cupboards with a distasteful curl of his lip. It’s ready fast enough that there’s not much time to dwell, but not even the care I take to make it look fancy, garnished with chives from the new pot on the windowsill, can make it taste of more than cardboard. I force it down anyway. The blank wall opposite the sofa stares back at me as I sit, curled up, trying to figure out what to do with my evening now that my plans have gone sideways. The sting in my eyes is easily blamed on the spice in the noodles.

Reading is out of the question, I need something to do with my hands. After a long moment, I set the bowl aside and cross the room to get the workbasket sitting half-forgotten down the side of one of the bookcases. The rag rug unfolds in my hands, creased from long storage. I started it in the quiet nights after Murphy’s capture, intending it to cover the cold tiles of the kitchen floor, the repetitive action of tying knots in strips of fabric almost as good as sleep when sleep eluded me. The only choice to be made with it is what colour to choose next, a simple, easy decision without any consequences at all. And silent, so the neighbours aren’t bothered by the noise of power tools in the wee hours. I had intended to have it finished weeks ago.

I’m completing the fourth new row when someone knocks on the door. The time blinking on my phone screen brings a frown to my face, the deep silence tingling over my skin. As unlikely as a trapper would be to knock, I lay my work aside and reach for the Volt gun stashed in the drawer of the coffee table. My feet make no sound as I creep to the door. The shadow cast by the hall light moves at my approach nonetheless, as if coming to attention, and I risk a glance down to check the safety.

And then I look through the peephole.

It’s Nate. He glances up as if the door isn’t even there, his expression a tight knot of worry clear even through the distortion of the lens as a breath shudders between my teeth. The Volt seems ridiculous now. Flicking the safety catch back on, I shove it into the utility cupboard beside the door and take a swift inventory of myself, smoothing a hand through my hair and across my cheeks before I dare lay it on the door handle.

He answers my smile as I swing the door open, but it’s guarded. “Hi.”

“Hi.” I can’t hold his eyes. “I wasn’t expecting anyone so late.”

“If I woke you –”

“You didn’t.” A pause. “It’s good to see you.”

“You’ve no idea –” he starts, then interrupts himself. “You’ve been crying.”

“No.”

“Yes, you have.” Because of me, he doesn’t say, but it’s easy enough to read in the tightness around his eyes.

“Alright, yes, fine,” I grumble, as something harsh squeezes in my chest. “Human lie detector. You should come in.”

As I step aside there’s a heartbeat before he crosses the threshold, ducking his head to avoid a collision with the door lintel, and then he pauses just inside the living room, shifting the weight uneasily between his feet.

“But I’m not human,” he says, with no trace of his usual humour. A shiver runs across my shoulders as I lock the door behind him.

“You’re close enough.”

When I turn back to face him, his features are contorted into incredulity. “How can you say that after what almost happened?” he demands. “What I almost did?”

He reaches for me, but the hand curls back around the words that stick in his throat before he can touch me. The shake of his head informs the shape of them anyway, what I knew they would be.

“If you’ve come to break up with me because of one stupid accident you can come back and do it in the morning,” I snap. “I’m not dealing with it now.”

The shock that meets such a blunt statement might have been comical in other circumstances, but there’s also the flicker of other emotions beneath the surface that pass too quickly for me to recognise. For a long, speechless moment the space between us unfolds with all the paths the brewing argument might take. Finally, with a helpless shrug, he licks his lips and makes a choice.

“I’m dangerous, Leah.”

“I think you proved tonight that you’re not,” I retort. “Not to me. Otherwise I wouldn’t be standing here.”

He flinches, hunching over as if winded. “You have no idea how much I wanted to – how tempting it was. It keeps playing through my mind.”

“Nate, I’m fine.” I dare a step towards him. “Everything’s fine. I’m not even bleeding anymore – you can stop worrying.”

When he doesn’t respond, the hopeful smile falls from my lips as I turn away. It’s a fight to keep my hands from wrapping around myself, from betraying exactly how lonely it feels with him so far away, but I won’t give in to the urge. They bunch into fists at my side instead; I’ll be able to wallow as much as I want after he leaves.

He notices. A gaze soft and full of regret falls on me as he crosses the floor, and my skin burns where his fingertips brush my arm. “I’ll always worry about you, and… I’ll always want to know that you’re alright.”

“I’m fine,” I insist.

His touch falls to my injured hand, to the plaster on my finger. “I frightened you.”

“A little.” I swallow. “But it wasn’t just fear.”

He’s closer now than he was in the kitchen, brown eyes heavy on mine, shadowed by a frown as he tries to work out my meaning. Maybe in the end the flush in my cheeks give it away, because he blinks at last and his mouth falls open, held taut as if he can’t decide whether to advance or retreat, and the embarrassment of the whole thing forces me away with a huff of laughter and a ragged hand shoved through my hair. It doesn’t say much for my sense of self-preservation that I’m turned on by my boyfriend’s predatory instincts, especially when guilt twists so clearly at the corner of his mouth, but he deserves the honesty.

“No one’s ever looked at me with such… intensity before,” I mumble, staring past his left ear. “And I noticed you weren’t staring at my hand. It felt like you wanted… well.”

He hooks a finger under my chin. “I’ve never wanted to kiss you more.” With the confession spoken his gaze drops to my mouth, his fingers turning to trail along the curve of my jaw and down my neck, reverent over the sparking line of my pulse, and he leans closer. “But it might not have stopped there, not once I’d tasted you.”

“You really are like the hero in a vampire romance novel.”

A laugh breaks from his lips at the unexpected tease, my face cradled in his hands as he brings his forehead gently down to mine. “I’m glad you think so.”

“Can I kiss you now?” I ask, winding my arms around his neck. The moment hangs between us – there shouldn’t be any trace of blood left, but Nate is always cautious, always considerate.

“Nothing would make me happier,” he murmurs.

My smile bows against the pad of his thumb, and then the press of his mouth as he closes the last of the distance. After everything that’s happened, the relief of his touch is like a physical thing, setting a tremble in my knees that I’m glad no one else can see. Strong arms wrap more tightly around me to keep me standing, the scent of leather and rain that always follows him as soft as the kisses slanted across my lips.

The movement shifts our positions a little and I pull away at the unexpected sensation it brings, a sharp prod against my stomach.

“What is in your pocket?”

He laughs again. “Maybe I’m just happy to see you.”

“Then I have some serious anatomical concerns.”

Still chuckling, he lets his hands fall from my shoulders and after a moment of rummaging produces a small, square tin from one of the oversized pockets in his leather jacket. The series of Chinese-style paintings decorating the sides suggest that at one time or another it was used for tea, probably directly imported from some small, artisan family business, knowing Nate.

“They were meant to be dessert, but they won’t keep,” he says in explanation.

Curious, I take the offering and pry off the lid. Inside is a nest of soft, crisp tissue paper, and hidden beneath the topmost layer –

“Macarons?”

I hardly dare to breathe. The smooth, round shells are unmistakeable, their sugary almond scent immediately conjuring an image of the old tearoom where I first tried them, complete with pristine white tablecloths and fussy porcelain teacups.

They’re a pain to make, and I’ve never tried. Not only do all the measurements have to be precise, the process followed to the letter, but humidity or a wind from the north or the wrong moon phase can ruin them, and you’d better hope you don’t have plans for the rest of the day. They’re also far too expensive to buy regularly on a cop’s salary. With anyone else I’d wonder what occasion I’d forgotten, or the reason for trying to butter me up, but Nate is just… like this.

“You made me macarons.”

“They’re not perfect,” he cautions, reaching out.

I shake my head. “Yes they are.” They’ve even been dusted with glitter powder, which I suspect is a touch added by Felix – Nate’s romantic but he would never deign to be gaudy. “Thank you.”

“After ruining dinner I thought at least I could give you these.” He shrugs before I can contradict him. “Thank you, by the way, for clearing everything up.”

“Of course,” I answer, reaching for his hand. “Will you stay?”

“I would like that.”

Flashing a smile, I hand back the tin of macarons so I can clear away enough space on the sofa for us both to sit. The scattered rags are stuffed back into the workbasket with the scissors, and the tape measure fished from its attempted escape down the side of the cushions.

Nate helps fold the rug. “I haven’t seen this before,” he says. “It’s pretty.”

“It’s just something I do in spare moments.” I shrug. “Actual crochet is a bit beyond my skill level, but it’s nice to have something to do that doesn’t require thinking. What’s that smile for?”

“No reason in particular,” he murmurs, once more stepping close. “Every time I think I can’t be luckier to have you in my life, you prove me wrong.”

I have to drop my gaze, stammering against the urge to protest. “You’re the one making me fancy desserts.”

“I have to find something to do while you sit buried under all that paperwork,” he teases. “Shall we enjoy them?”

His hand stretches out in offering, and with it he draws me down to his side, patient while I get comfortable, tucked up under his arm safe and small and enveloped in warmth. A kiss brushes against my forehead. Even after months, I still marvel at how Nate can make my apartment feel so much more like a home just with his presence, and as he tilts the macaron tin towards me, knowing how easily I might have gone without it tonight – how I would have thought it normal, once – turns the gesture into something even sweeter.

[xbunnybunz]

Daybreak (2/?) [Wolf Keum x Reader x Alex Go)

Summary: The day brings to you Alex Go, and in the night, Wolf Keum. Your past is inescapable. They build you up and tear you back down, but this is what you need to survive.

Genre: Romance, Angst, Drama

-----

When you wake up to the alarm in the morning, the ringing thrums a migraine in your head that could only be a hangover.

You blearily open your eyes and look to your alarm clock to the right, the intense sunlight piercing through your curtains further inflaming your headache.

7:10AM

You roll over and slap the snooze button, flopping back down onto your back with a sigh.

You lay in bed for a while, running through your classes for the day. You didn’t recall having any tests or quizzes, so you take the day to heal from your drinking binge instead.

The next time you open your eyes, it’s 1:43PM.

The sunlight has dwindled from sweeping over your face to sitting shyly in the corner of your room, refracting through the window and streaking a rainbow onto your wall.

Wolf and Alex Go flipped through your mind like a stop-motion movie, and only looking back on it did you realize what entirely different characters both were.

Wolf was cold. Everything about him was so goddamn cold, his stare, his presence, his mannerisms. But Alex Go was warm in a soft way, warm in the way the sun would feel washing across your face at the beach.

You wondered what business fate had in bringing both boys to you in one night but abandoned the sentiment as soon as it popped into your head.

You were tired of hearing about fate and of destiny, it reminded you too much of what he used to say. Life was fickle, and you knew it, lolling from one side to another, one moment in your favor, the other against.

Heaving a sigh, you push yourself to sit up and swing your legs over the bed.

Your shadow played across the floor and traversed to your desk, messy with the clutter of books, journals, and half-written novels.

You pay them no attention and stroll over to the closet, pulling a shirt from a hanger to wear to the local food mart. A grumble erupts from your stomach and find yourself salivating at the possibilities of different ramen flavors or day-old cold cuts.

You head out to the market after freshening up, and the trip there takes a little less than a few minutes.

The elderly lady at the register gives you a sweet smile and welcomes you, and you return the gesture with a bow. Your eyes skim the wall of chips and baked pastries until your gaze lands on the shelf you were looking for.

You peruse the selection of gourmet instant ramen, tapping your chin thoughtfully and pondering the root of all human struggle, beef flavor or chicken flavor?

The door chimes distantly and a few people walk in, exchanging greetings with the cashier.

You close your eyes and let the sound of others around you seep into your soul. It was days like this that everything felt normal again, like time had finally begin to move forwards again. You craved it, but always knew this relief never lasted for long.

You open your eyes and see the slight furrow of your brows in reflection of the vending machine beside you. You also notice a pair of legs trailing up to a familiar white and blue uniform, and whip around.

“Alex Go?”

“Hey!” He smiled, and even in the blue-hued light of the fluorescent bulbs, he shone like the midday sun. “I thought I recognized you, but I couldn’t be sure.”

You turn to face him and rub your arm, giving him a tiny grin. “I knew we’d be seeing each other around, but this soon? You sure you not stalking me?”

You reach out to give him a playful punch, and he barely budges.

“Stalking?” he seems genuinely taken aback until he sees the look on your face. “I mean, if I was stalking you, I’d hope you hit harder than that!”

He laughs and the sound is melodious, boisterous, but not grating. The way his shoulders shake mesmerizes you for one, two, three seconds.

“Hey, you’re lucky I didn’t use this hand instead!”

You wave your right fist at him and pretend to swing, and right on beat, he feigns impact with a dramatic pop of his shoulder.

There’s a light feeling in your chest, and it flutters with each beat.

When was the last time you spoke to anyone like this, the last time you spoke to anyone at all?

“What are you doing here?” He asks, green eyes alight and curious. “Other than looking at instant noodles, I mean.” He gestures to the shelf you were both in front of, and you shrug.

“I had a pretty shitty hangover, so I skipped class and stayed home instead.”

You feel a bit abashed admitting that aloud, but continue regardless.

“I also forgot I don’t have a lot of food back in the apartment, so I had to crawl out and get my rations for the week.”

His gaze is gentle but piercing.

You hadn’t noticed yesterday in the shroud of night, but his hair was exceptionally dark. You wouldn’t liken it to the pitch-black darkness of nighttime, but to the gentle shadows cast by foliage on a peaceful afternoon at the park.

His eyes were a lighter variant of green, like the pale olive of leaves right after the end of winter, just before the start of summer. It was a delicate kind of beauty that felt tender to behold, and you cherished it every moment you could.

“Cutting? Come on, there can only be one delinquent here.”

He bumped his shoulder into yours, but it was mostly your shoulder colliding with his bicep.

“And I’m no professional, but I don’t think cup noodles are the best thing to eat during a hangover.”

You let your fingers dance over the flimsy cardboard packaging, humming.

“Well, it’s the fastest and easiest. So unless you’re going to help me, I suggest shutting your trap.”

You poke him in the chest and your breath gets shallow when you feel lean muscle under the modest uniform.

Alex flusters as well, though much more outwardly. He clasps his hands over his chest where you jabbed him, and his voice comes out an octave higher than usual.

“What? What do you need help with?”

He looks to you for an answer and finds you brandishing two boxes, one chicken and the other beef, trying desperately to hide your awkward reaction with an equally as bizarre question.

“Noodles. Fresh, hot, preserved noodles. Chicken or beef?”

You don’t really care what flavor he chooses but you hope the diversion works.

Alex falters a bit at the sudden change in topic and mood, but much to your relief, eventually eases his sights on the boxes in your hands. He has to stop himself from rolling his eyes, but he can’t stop the cocky smile from overtaking his features. He places a hand on your shoulder and raises an eyebrow.

“Uhm, duh?” He gestures to the box on the right. “Chicken.”

You beam at him and put beef back on the rack, plucking a few more chicken ramens off the shelf.

“You, my good sir, are a man of good taste.”

Alex drops his hand from your shoulder and winks at you with a chuckle, his words igniting a fire in your cheeks.

“Oh trust me, I know.”

You can’t stop the smile that creeps across your reddened face. “Don’t be coy with me, Alex Go. I still remember the way you stuttered yesterday.”

“Coy? Who’s being coy?” He laughs and feigns ignorance, but his jittery feet, bobbing this way and that, give him away.

He eyes the fridge behind you and sighs, shoulders slumping almost comically.

“Shit, I almost forgot why I came here.”

He busies himself with grabbing handfuls of ice cream, and you peer at him curiously. He catches your stare and explains himself as he counts the number of cones he has.

“I’m on snack duty for the group today, those lazy bums were ‘too busy’ teaching Gray and Eugene how to play pools to come out with me.”

He steps away from the fridge and closes the door with his hip, the suction of air making a fleeting ‘thwump.’

“They’re just broke and won’t admit it, fucking losers.” He says this, but there’s a smile on his face. You smile with him, because now seems like a good excuse to be happy.

You both walk to the register and Alex goes first, but still waits until you have everything in a bag.

When you step outside, the sun is intense but warm. You have to squint to see anything, and when you look at Alex you see he’s doing the same thing. He catches your eye, and you both laugh at each other until your stomachs hurt.

“I guess this is where we part ways.” Alex says, still slightly out of breath, wiping a tear from his eye.

“Yeah, guess so.” You wring your hands a bit, feeling a bit jittery at the thought of returning to solitude.

Alex hesitates too but you barely have time to register it before he freaks out, seeing the time on a clock hanging from a nearby shop.

“Holy crap! I’ve been gone for that long? Ben’s gonna chew my ass out!”

Alex grabs your right hand to shake it and misses the way you flinch.

“It was so nice seeing you again! I just feel like we kind of click, yaknow? If that makes sense.”

He retracts his hand and ties a knot on his bag, he’s moving and talking so fast you can’t keep up. You’re still stuck on how he says you both click, because you think so too and you’re so glad he feels the same--  and you don’t want to go home and you don’t want to be alone.

But he’s taking off before you can even understand he was saying goodbye.

“I’ll see you later! Get home safe!”

He waves and takes off charging, and he reminds you of a soaring jet.

There’s a noise in your throat, but no words come out.

Your hands clench and unclench, heart still hammering from when he took your palm in his.

You don’t want to wait to see him again, you think. You don’t want to leave it up to chance, or fate, or whatever the fuck they called it.

How long have you waited for someone to hear you? To see you? To feel you?

“Wait!” You shout, and it pushes all the air from your lungs.

You give yourself half a second to inhale then take after him, the plastic bag with your noodles tugging on your wrist.

“Alex!”

By some miracle, he hears you and turns around, stopping short in his sprint and waving at you.

He cups his hands over his mouth and shouts something you can’t hear over the whistling of the wind and the rustling of the bag at your side.

When you finally catch up to him, you’re totally winded. You wonder what kind of superhuman stamina Alex had because he didn’t seem to be struggling at all.

You place your hands on your knees and double over, taking deep breaths of air that burn your lungs but make you feel so goddamn alive.

“Woah there!”

Alex braces you with two hands on your arms.

“I told you I’d wait for you. Why’d you keep running like that?”

“Give me your number.”

Alex’s eyebrows shoot up, and his hands fly off your body.

“H-huh?”

Your voice comes out raspy and weak. You’re only able to speak between inhales, but it doesn’t stop you from repeating yourself.

“Give me. Your number.”

Alex’s bewildered expression greets you when you look up, face red from exertion and embarrassment. Upon seeing your ruffled state, Alex makes a weird noise at the back of his throat and reddens as well.

“O-oh. I thought I misheard you…” He swallows thickly and rubs the back of his neck again. “Did you run all the way here to ask for that?”

You give him a look and drop your head again, giving one last exhale before rising again.

“Yeah, I did.”

Alex’s blush spreads to his ears, and his green gaze flickers from you to whatever thing wasn’t you. His dark hair tousles in the wind, and he rubs his nose.

“Oh wow. I mean you didn’t need to sprint, I’d be flattered regardless.”

He gives you another smile, and you notice that when he’s nervous his smiles are close-lipped. Either way, it warm your chest.

“I was just afraid I couldn’t catch up to you.”

He reaches for his phone and extends it to you after unlocking it, and you try hard to ignore the background he has of a tall, tan redhead face-first on the floor at a bowling alley.

“I would’ve waited.”

You type your number into his phonebook and call it, waiting until the buzz of your phone resounded from your pocket.

“I wanted to be sure.”

You hand the phone back to him. Your fingers brush and you don’t miss the way he jolts a bit.

“Right.”

He shifts a bit back and forth, like he couldn’t decide between staying or going. Or maybe you were just hoping that was the case.

You notice the bag he’s holding is dripping something, and you point it out to him.

“Oh crap-!” He opens the bag and is relieved to find its just condensation, but remains jumpy.

“Ah, thank god. But it’ll be the ice cream next. I really gotta go this time, I’ll see you!”

He takes off for a bit, and you watch, baffled, as he stops short and runs back to you, jogging in place. The condensation from the bag flies off and hits your arm.

“And uhm- I’ll call you.”

You blink in surprise, and can’t help the bubble of laughter that erupts from your lips.

“I’ll be looking forward to it, Alex Go.”

He returns the smile and it’s radiant as ever. It leaves you warm when he turns to leave, warm when his back is just a speck in the distance, and warm still when he’s out of your sight.

Alex Go, you think. Your fingers flex a bit at your side. And you smile.

[fightevilandthengetblownup]

FIC:  In This Town...

---

“Party City Red Hood, huh?” Jo quipped with a grin, reacting out and tapping the front of the red bike helmet the other hunter was wearing. “Or, I’ll pay that it’s a step up from that.”

There was a chuckle from somewhere behind the full helmet before he reached up and pulled it off, exposing a black domino mask across his eyes. “You’re one to talk. What are you supposed to be - Sandra Dee?” Dean’s lips quirked up into a smirk as he ran an eye over her for a moment before grinning roguishly. “Surprised you’re not running about being Batgirl.”

The blonde smiled in return, doing a little twist and bob that swung her circle skirt and petticoats about herself, before sticking out her tongue. “Sorry Deano, wasn’t lookin’ to run about in spandex tonight. I’ve gotta be able to move after all-”

“You can in that wide a skirt?” “It helps push customers out of the way at least.” “That seems true enough.”

“Speakin’ of - two beers and some fries for you and Sammy?” Jo asked cheerfully as she spotted the taller man moving to claim one of the booth seats near the doorway to the upstairs. “Tell him I’m sorry we don’t have any salads on the menu these days.”

“Oh no, you have to be the one to break that to him.” Dean smirked in response, fumbling around before throwing a few twenties on the bar top. “Guessing that’ll-”

Jo turned about back to him as she poured two beers for the both and placed them down beside the money before raising a brow. “Yeah, I’ll start a tab for you boys, but you know-”

“Nuh uh, Jo,” The surprise of hearing the other brother’s voice managed to startle both hero and bartender as Sam popped up beside his brother. His usually freed hair was tucked down under the deer stalker on his head, and he seemed to have appeared out of the crowd with the same sense of theatric timing and clairvoyance as his chosen costume would as well - though without the jacket that was thrown over the table saving it for them, it was hard for most to work out he was the famed detective instead of simply a hipster for that year. “I know we’re family, but this is still a business. And business?”

“Is business.” Dean finished in unison with his brother, jostling the other’s shoulder for a second as they both stared down the blonde’s chagrined expression until she finally reached a hand out to take the notes. “That’a girl! Start us up a tab, would you?”

“Sure thin’. I’ll swing round with those fries, and maybe I can ask Grey to bring  something healthier from home if you guys need.” “Don’t worry about it, Jo. It’s Halloween - time for candy and alcohol.” “Surprised to hear that from you, Sam!”

The taller of the brother’s shrugged a shoulder before delivering a foppish grin back. “Hey, it’s better than some of the Halloweens we’ve had. I figure I deserve a treat.”

“Right on.” Jo giggled back, smiling and giving a short wave as they turned towards their table before slipping the notes into the cash register beside the other barmaid with a grin and a quick debrief on the brothers’ tab before turning to more customers.

---

“Well, well, well, I’d say look what the cat dragged in - but I had nothing to do with it.” The sultry tone did wonders for the joke as the two girls slid into the free edges of the booth.

The Winchesters had been there for the last half an hour, going through a few plates of fries, exchanging a few pleasantries with Harry when he’d come rushing down from upstairs to help behind the bar as the dock crowd slowly gave way to the assorted collection of dressed up college students. The influx seemingly marking the change of clientele that made the space more and more friendly to the sisters’ arrival.

“Say what now?” Dean asked with a grin as he lifted his arm naturally to rest across the back of the booth seat, though he was glad he’d left his helmet beside himself. It gave enough space that he didn’t feel too cramped by the new arrivals. Running an eye over the skin tight black dress, that appeared to him to be more sheer-than-not fabric and left a lot of skin and the lace bodice underneath visible above the skirts ruffles, he couldn’t quite work out what she was supposed to be. He let out a laugh as he caught the shadow’s eye, raising a brow. “What are you supposed to be anyway? Didn’t know Victoria’s Secret Model was a costume option or I’d have cracked out the panties.”

Shada let out her own laugh before pointing a purple manicured finger towards the two little eats attached to the top of her head. “I’m a cat. Dah.”

“I’m pretty sure the joke is that you’re supposed to be a mouse.” Sam quipped from his side of the table, a warm smile directed across at the other for a moment. “I mean, you were going for a Mean Girls reference weren’t you?”

“A what now?” “It’s... It’s a movie. Ask Jo sometime.”

“You and your chick flicks.” Dean laughed, turning to rib as his brother. “Surprised you picked Sherlock when you had so many other options to choose, Fabio.”

Before Sam could respond, the blonde beside him chirped up with a confused look upon her face. “What’s a... Fabio?”

The taller hunter let out a bit of a laugh, and slid the fries plate a little closer to the younger girl as he caught her eye dipping down to look at them curiously, before replying. “Dean here’s just mad he doesn’t have the flowing locks or the six pack to be him. He’s basically the poster art on any romance novel from the eighties.”

“Oh! Like the novels big sister reads?” “Yes, just like those, Ombre.” “Ah, tre bien! You do have the hair for that!”

Shada let out a laugh as the younger shadow had been chewing on a fry before exclaiming happily at working out the reference. It was bemusing to watch the enraptured way her little sister reached out a hand to tug on the loose locks popping out under the ear flaps of the hunter’s hat and the confused and them equally amused look that crossed the man’s face at the innocent gesture.

“Who are you both supposed to be then?” She asked conversationally as she turned to run a disproportionately assessing eye over each hunter. “I am unfamiliar with both your choices.”

Sam smiled back as he picked up a fry, chewing quickly before replying quietly. “I’m being Sherlock Holmes. And please don’t tell me if you don’t know who that is. Your brother already pranked me with that-”

“Oh that sounds just like him.” The brunette shadow laughed, shaking her head quickly when she noticed her sister’s mouth open to voice her confusion. “He’s being a fictional detective, Ombre. A very famous one.” As the other snapped her mouth shut before picking up another fry decisively instead, she figured she’d have to talk to her brother about what other tricks and taunts he’d played on the hunters and to leave some for her. Quirking a curious brow at the man beside her, Shada waved her hand for him to answer her instead.

“Red Hood, at your service.” Dean said with a smile, dropping his hand to pick the helmet off the seat between them for a moment before resettling it. At her blank look the cocky smile drooped slightly and he coughed uncertainly. “He, uh... It’s a comic character. Batman series? Jason Todd? He was a Robin?” At the continued blank look, Dean finally gave a shake of his head and ran a hand through his hair mussing it before smirking widely. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to educate you sometime.”

“Perhaps you will.” Shada didn’t stop the flirtatious tone as she batted her eyes enough to turn the hunter a bright pink before laughing as the dark haired barmaid came hurrying over with a new plate of fries as well as what looked like two fruity drinks. “Um-”

“Jo sent these over, says Grey’s running late. Harry said something about stopping by when it calms down.” The barmaid spoke rapidly, the words a rapid fire as she seemed to be glancing about the space rather than making direct contact. As she turned back from looking towards the bar to look at the motley crew accumulated in the booth, there was a second before a wide, friendly smile grew across her face. “Oh hey! Nice Alice costume! I was thinking of that but Ha- I wanted to go for something a little more musical-theatre that Classic Lit. Okay, sorry, give us a shout if you need anything else!”

As quickly as Sophie had appeared, decked out with bright green skin all over as she had been and the comfortable black dress, she disappeared away again - only noticable by the black witches hat weaving between the crowds of drunken patrons.

“Oh, she liked my costume. She’s so nice!” Ombre’s smile was wider than it had been since she had met up with Shada to get ready, all bright white teeth and crinkled eyes, as she looked about the booth. “I like her!”

“Sophie’s lovely.” Sam replied with an amused smile before nodding his head. “And she’s right, that’s a lovely Alice In Wonderland, Ombre. It’s very accurate too.”

“Merci beaucoup, I adore Alice! I love my socks so much.” “Socks?” “The little frills! Along with all the à fanfreluches - frilly - skirts.” “Ah, I see. Well, it’s a very pretty costume.”

“Merci, merci, merci!” The blonde’s grin was so wide and bright it was almost blinding before she clapped her hands happily.

The group lapsed into a moments quiet as each either had some of their drinks or ate a few of the french fries or onion rings that had just been delivered to the table before the conversation turned towards other things as usual - games, or their mutual friends, or Dean’s attempts to explain just who the Red Hood was as the black cat would look more and more confused hiding her smiles.

---

“Yoo-hoo! Guess who made it to the East- wait...” There was a pause as the red haired woman did a spin as she bounded towards the bar. “ Jo - this isn’t on the East coast is it. What is this area even called?”

“We’re in the Midwest, Charlie.” “Uh uh uh - tonight I only answer to my witch name-” “Oh! You’re dressed as Willow!” “Of course. What did you think I was?”

“Some 90′s grunge femme lesbian?” Jo grinned as she ran an eye over the extremely dated clothes the other was wearing, with her bright yellow bucket hat, oversized jean overalls and the colorful yet somehow dull rainbow sweater underneath. “So, I guess, accurate costume.”

“Har har, very funny.” Charlie jibed back with an eye roll, drumming the black painted nails on the bar top. “Who are you supposed to be? Scarlet Witch has red hair, though I suppose it’s sorta blonde in that latest trailer. And her dress is red.”

“Ugh, no and don’t get me started on corporate America, not tonight when I have to keep the masses libationed up.” “Very true, though at least you seem more comfortable than Hermione over there.”

Jo and Charlie both turned to look to see where Sophie was struggling to do the most comfortable bend and pour technique on the bar taps from her height while also not have her Elphaba hat fall off. There was a split second before the black hat went tumbling to the floor and the barmaid had to pick between grabbing it before it’d get beer soaking into it or sticky patches from the floor or drop the patrons glass. The glass won out, and it was another few seconds before the witch got her hat back - now with a few extra dark patches that would likely pick up any dust or crumbs that comes in its path.

“Pity.” Charlie said with a sigh as she turned back to the blonde. “Where’s the rest-”

“Over in the back corner, I’ll take you - gotta drop off another round of drinks anyways.” The bar owner smiled as she raised a brow. “Tequila sunrise, right?”

There was a beat before the redhead found herself fluttering her lashes with a grin. “Oh, Jo, you know the way straight to a woman’s heart don’t you. Such a pity you’ve got such a pretty boyfriend already.”

“Sorry, Charlie, been there, done that, not signin’ up for the newsletter. Gimme a second, will ya?” “Sure thing!”

As soon as the cocktail was ready, Jo plated up the round of drinks for the small hodge-podge group of hunters, shadows and hunter-adjacent arrivals in the back corner, and ducked out from the end of the bar, bringing the researcher over with her.

“Squish up you lot - the party just arrived!” Charlie exclaimed happily as she bounced down into the seat beside the blonde shadowgirl who was gesticulating wildly about some story or other. “What’re we all talking about? When are the rest of the boys due?”

“Ed texted Harry about thirty minutes ago to say Spruce lost one of his bolts, so they’re going to be about ten more.” Sam replied with a grin, somehow shimmying his frame further down the bench and around to make more room for the newest arrival. “And what’s taking Grey so long, Jo?”

As Jo slowly set down her tray and started handing out the array of drinks, her brows creased into a tiny frown and everyone bit back a laugh at the borderline pout on her lips. “All the trick or treatin’ kids in the neighborhood are freakin’ Nana out. So Grey’s stayin’ put for another hour until it dies down and she calms down.”

“That’s a shame,” Dean remarked, though the flash of a grin on his face didn’t match at all to the words before he shrugged and added more genuinely with a serious look. “No, actually, that’s a bummer. It’ll be... nice to catch up more.” There was a pause as he drank a sip of his beer before he finished quietly. “Truly. Hope he gets here soon.”

“Thanks. Okay, you guys are set, I’ll be back ‘round with another lot soon.” The blonde gave a bounce which flounced the skirts of her outfit a little before she span on her heel and clicked away in the pink heels to deal with the still onslaughting group of customers.

“Really Dean?” “What Sammy?” “Don’t be a dick.”

“Yeah, that’s not cool, Deano.” Charlie remarked with a smirk as she took a sip of her drink - the tequila and orange juice one of her favorites - raising a brow back at him. “Besides, it’s much more fun annoying Jo when she’s in a good mood than bad. So wait until Grey shows up and then we can tease the both of them.”

That got a round of laughs from the table as a whole, and the redhead felt a surge of pride noticing the way Dean turned to genuinely apologise to the scowling dark haired woman before asking Ombre to start her story again from the beginning.

---

“Who ya gonna call?!” “Ghostbusters!” “Fuck yeah!”

The shouts coming from the trio as they emerged from the stairway brought about a round of laughs from the group as all three men moved towards the group.

“Well, better than calling on the last group - what’d you used to call yourselves?” Sam asked jovially as he shifted another time and held a hand out to shake each of the three men’s hands as they sat down, before resting it over the top of the bench seating spanning behind both blonde and redhead.

“Facers, Losechester, the Ghostfacers. You know that.” Ed snapped back with a smirk as he slid into the space beside the dark haired woman at the table and ran a quick eye over her before grinning wider. “Hey, surprised you’re not dressed up in a bright purple Sombra this evening, Shada.”

“Well, I do enjoy simplicity.” Shada replied with a smirk of her own, picking up her drink and shuffling a little further down the bench as Spruce tried to fit in. Glancing at the small sliver of space left, she turned back towards the hunter that had yet to have to bunch down. Batting her lashes and tapping a manicured finger against the top of his red helmet between them, the girl’s lips twitched into a knowing smirk. “Oh, Dean, you’ll have to make some more room. Or else I might just think you’re scared of little old me.”

“Don’t worry Shada, if he won’t move you can always use my lap instead.” Ed’s quip was met with an immediate scurrying from the hunter to shove the red motorcycle off the bench seat and between his feet with a slightly unfocused scowl towards him. “Oh too bad.”

“Awww, sorry Ed, looks like I’ve got some more room.”

“Can you three stop flirting and move the fuck over so I can sit down?” The last of the Ghostbusting trio growled out as he raised an eyebrow at all three and got laughed at by Harry, Charlie, Sam and Ombre on the other side of the booth. It took a moment for Shada and Ed to shuffle enough, packed like sardines and the brunette girl sitting almost partway into the hunter’s lap at the other end before there was enough room for Spruce to slip in. “Oh thank god, the sweaty drunks were getting boring.”

“Hey guys, another round?” Sophie’s voice suddenly appeared, and the green girl was smiling brightly at all of them as she set down her tray and started handing out drinks. Though there was a second as Harry reached for one of the glasses at the same time that their fingers caught, and if she hadn’t been covered in green paint everyone at the table was sure that she’d have turned bright red. “No, no, Harry, you’re off for the night! Please, let me.”

“Oh come on. You’re being run off your feet-” “Yeah, but I’m being paid-” “-And you don’t need to dote so much-” “Of course I do!”

“Oh my god, you two are such doux amours!” Ombre’s voice finally cut through the bickering pair, catching Harry and Sophie’s attention to confused looks. There was a second before the blonde waved her hand happily across Charlie towards them. “Harry, Harry, don’t forget to kiss your girlfriend goodbye if she is having to work!”

The round of laughter that followed that statement in the face of the bright red that colored the researcher’s face and the stammering from the green-faced barmaid. There was another round of laughter when Sophie actually dropped the glass in question, and Harry floundered quickly with napkins to try to clean up the spilled drink.

“What’d I say?” Ombre asked quietly, her eyes darting about the laughing group and blushing herself until Spruce lent across to give her hand a pat. “What did I-”

“It’s fine, Ombre.” Spruce grinned wickedly back as he plucked his own beer from the tray while Harry and Sophie were awkwardly attempting to mop up the drink but not touch one another. “Harry’s not gotten around to asking Soph yet. You’re just a little early.”

“Oh. Okay!”

“Dude!” Harry hissed the words out across the table, glaring at the taller man before blushing under scrutiny further. “Don’t-”

“It’s okay, Spangler. You’ll get there eventually.” “Dude, not the point.”

“I... I’ve got to get back to help Jo.” Sophie stammered for a moment, glancing around at the group as she pressed the tray up against her chest and rushed away while Harry thunked his head onto the table top.

There was a pause before a hand fell on his shoulder, Sam leaning past the two girls between the both of them, to pat his shoulder a few times. “That’s rough, buddy.” The words sounded genuine, but the laughter that started up at the table from Harry’s groan and the wicked grin on the hunter’s face as everyone turned into ribbing the researcher about his unfulfilled crush.

---

The crowd in the bar was winding down - the cheap drinks advertisement Jo, Sophie and Harry had devised doing exactly what they had planned in encouraging an influx crowd of youngsters earlier in the evening that would chase out the dock crews and hunters for the evening, and then as the hour got nearer to midnight the crowds would slowly filter out to the hipper, more aesthetic or club-like spaces around town as the three hours of cheap base spirits faded off. It was strategic - not only to make sure the bar would be shadow-friendly for most of the evening, but also to capitalize on a large influx and then giving both Harry and Jo the opportunity to enjoy the later hour with friends.

It took until almost 11 for the door to finally open and the last of the remaining large group of friends to arrive.

“I hate this holiday.” Grey seethed harshly as he made his way towards the booth and looked around in surprise at how squished and yet uncaring the group was. “Hey, what’d I miss?”

“Grey!” “Brother, finally!” “Hey man, how’d it go with the dog?” “Did you bring the puppy, brother?”

“No, I didn’t. Bloody Trick or Treaters kept freaking Nana out with the screaming and laughing.” He sighed quietly as he glanced to the side and pulled a seat over towards the end of the table, tugging with a sigh on his tie. “They all finished about two hours ago but she was so worked up I couldn’t leave.”

“Did you have many people stop?” Charlie asked, raising a brow at him. “I put up a big sign back at home that I only believe in giving out edibles so I suspect a lot of angry stoners that I wasn’t home.”

The shadow gave the other a disbelieving look for a moment before raising an eyebrow right back at her. “There’s a lot of children along the road, and being near the school means a lot of visitors. Went through about fifteen bags of candy before I decided enough was enough.”

“That’s far too much sugar to be giving out, brother.” “Oh really?” “Yes, really.”

“Well, I suspect Jo will be sad there isn’t any leftovers when we get home.” Grey smiled gently across at his sister, not even blinking at her choice of costume or lack there of, before doing a double take at noticing her sitting almost fully in the hunter’s lap and the way Dean was simply talking across her back towards his brother and the blonde shadow. “I see I missed more than a little trick or treating here too.”

“So many treats, you know.” Shada rebutted with a loud laugh. “I’m just embracing my choice of costume.”

“Oh?” “Cats must sit on laps, right?” “Ah.”

“Don’t worry man,” Ed spoke up then, giving a huffed laugh. “Dean lost a bet an hour back, he’s only got another five minutes before she’s got to get off.”

“Only if he remembers to ask though, or wants me to.” “Oh I’ll want you to, you foxy minx. You keep stealing my drinks before they get to me.” “Shush, Dean, chairs can’t talk.”

Blinking a few times at the array of banter, Grey simply shook his head before pushing back to his feet. “I’m going to go get a dri-”

“Doctor!” The squeal came high and clear over the subdued murmur of voices and lowered but atmospheric volume of the jukebox in the corner, and Grey found himself letting out a laugh as he turned to see a flurry of baby pink skirts and blonde hair spinning about behind the bar before scurrying from around the end of the bar itself. “Oh about bloody time!”

“Sorry, time got a little away from me.” Grey chuckled as he replied, pushing his chair a little back as Jo finally came bounding up to his side and threw an arm around his waist with that dazzling smile he loved so much. “You know how it is-”

“Oh of course, the man with all the time in the universe can’t keep a single track of it.” “That’s exactly how it is.” “Very wibbly-”

“-Wobbly.” He finished with an equally wide smile, tucking a strand of hair back behind Jo’s ear before leaning in to press his lips to hers in a click of teeth at just how wide their smiles were before they were kissing properly for the barest moment and he pulled back. “Sorry it took so long though, pretty one.” Grey said quieter, leaning down to whisper against Jo’s ear. “Nana was scared on a scarey night and wanted her mommy.”

“No problem, hunny, we’ll be home sometime tonight and I’m sure she’ll be okay until then.” Jo replied sweetly, pecking his lips a last time before turning towards the table as a whole. Her whole face shifted from the wide grin into a sneer. “Well now, can you guys tell who I am yet?”

There was a moment before Harry and Spruce had looks change from confusion at Jo’s dragging the table out of their conversations before they started smiling and nodded, with awkward laughter between them. It took another moment before Ed and Sam followed suit, with Ed crying out sharply “Oh! That makes so much more sense than Betty Draper!”

“That guess was so fuckin’ bullshit, Ed.” “Well it’s not our fault your couples-stume only makes sense together!” “It’s not my fault you clearly aren’t a fan enough to recognise this on sight.”

“Jo, stop being mad,” Harry shook his head smiling up towards the couple and playing mediator like he had been all night between Jo and others when the question on who or what exactly she was dressed as had come up. “Besides, it’s cute that it needs Grey here to make it work for both of you.”

Grey raised an eyebrow in confusion and looked down at his gym shoes and then further up towards his brown, pinstriped suit and the skinny tie in confusion that it might not be clear who he was, but then he felt the same looking at Jo in her quasi-beehive hairstyle and the flouncy baby pink dress and blue jacket that pulled her waist into a tiny point before the poofy nature of her skirts. He thought it was obvious who they both were, and that the blue tipped screwdriver poking out of his jacket pocket was really unnecessary for anyone to know the star-crossed lovers they were dressed as that night.

“Anyway, I’m off duty for the night now - but if Sophie needs a hand you and I might need to pitch in, Harry.” “And with closing down once us lot are done and she’s gone home for the night, I know.” “Oh actually, I had mentioned once we call last drinks to the rest of the kiddies here at one that Soph’s welcome to stay and hang out a little while. You don’t got a problem with that do you Harry?”

If Jo’s question sounded been innocent, the wicked twitch of her lips gave away any chance of innocence and any thought there wasn’t any intent behind it, which got a large laugh from Spruce and Charlie at Harry’s spluttering before Grey found himself getting pulled into the good natured teasing.

---

The night was a bit of a blur but in the way in which a night of good conversation, good companionship and good feelings was lost.

Shada eventually returned to sitting on the bench but a lot later than she was expected to, and at one point had her cat ears joined by the black domino mask that covered her smokey eyes but made her smiles seem a little more wicked and flirtatious as she batted her eyes out of the darkness.

Sam and Spruce found themselves eventually sitting beside one another and discussing in depth the problems with higher educations toll upon students and the pressures of achieving grades. They were both surprised to learn that’d both been pre-law, and that neither had felt the push to continue through the loss of either girlfriend in Sam’s case or friend in Spruce’s. And then that they both found bananas disgusting.

Charlie and Ombre spent an inordinate time standing up after it was found out that the tall blonde knew nothing of dancing - and the string of dance favorites that were set up on the jukebox for the two, and then three when Sophie had scared the last of the customers out of the bar and joined them both, made for an amusing range of background music.

Dean slowly got drunk on his beers but kept to himself for the most part, simply content after a while to rub at the small of the back of the girl on his lap with a thumb and listen to her and Jo’s talk about some shopping spree or birthday or something coming up. And once he was a free man again, turned his attention back towards his beer and the odd conversation he was pulled into.

Grey was pleased to find himself moved onto the booth seating after a bit beside Jo, hands held together in her lap or an arm around her waist, as he spent until the wee hours talking with Ed and Harry or even Dean about anything and everything so long as he had the warm presence of his sunshine pressed up against his side.

Nothing could go wrong so long as he could just look out the corner of his eye and see that smile in an instant. And when they got home, he was sure they’d have their fluffy baby curled up on the end of the bed to make that feel just as warm as sitting in the warm atmosphere of friendship there.

---

[youarejesting]

BTS 365 Prompts

[Masterlist] Please tag me in your work if you use my prompts. I want to see your work. Ever your Jester.

Tell me your birthday and I will tag you on your special day!

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   February 19th - 25th

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Kim Seokjin: Swords

The year was 1776 the ruler king Jeongjo. Paranoid that someone wanted him dead, He called for a competition “Any man who can wield a sword is allowed to participate, the winners  would be rewarded greatly”

A trip to see your good friend who had a more androgynous style. You explained the situation and they gave you advice before setting to work.  Lending you clothes and shoes and helping you style your hair. “Eric here will teach you how to act the part”

You had won the final match and joined the winners. Meeting an unbelievably handsome young man named Kim Seokjin. You all became the kings guard and you explained to the king and was still allowed to stay. You were bathing one evening in the hot spring and you heard someone enter. 

“Hey y/n is that you, you always bathe so late” he came closer and you and you froze up he grabbed your shoulder and you grabbed his hand and overpowered him to face him against the edge of the bath. He struggled pulling you in front of him trapping you between his arms and he blushed stepping back. He couldn’t say anything his ears pink. 

Min Yoongi: Humble @leuchtendesstrassenlicht

Yoongi got back last night while you were sleeping and you woke up in his arms, you smiled allowing him to sleep in. You really had to pee and you were feeling kind or hungry but you didn’t move. Betrayed by Holly who left to eat and run around the backyard. Instead you distracted yourself with a list of things you loved about your husband. You loved his voice, his dry humor you loved his hands, you loved his eyes, you loved the way he didn’t need to say he loved you for you to feel it. How he wasn’t very affectionate because when he was it was like Christmas. Looking back he was awake watching you and you smiled you prettiest smile at him. And his eyes scanned your face eyebrows turning down at the ends, it was the subtlest change but this was the face he made when ever he said I love you, so whenever you see it you know what he wants to say. 

Sharing a kiss you asked him about the awards last night and he told you they had won another handful of Daesang awards. “Show me photos”

“I didn’t take any” he pulled you close feeling his ears warm a little. 

“You didn’t, I want to see you all happy with an award” 

“I’m happy and you are better than any award anyone could give me”

Jung Hoseok: Multitasking

Hoseok was busy writing lyrics, so much so he took his phone everywhere. Including the shower, his phone locked behind a zip lock bag as he typed under the constant jets of hot water. He felt his muscles ease as he typed away placing his phone down playing the instrumental piece he washed his hair trying out the lyrics. 

He hummed and as his phone rang, it was a face-time from you the very girl he liked. Forgetting where he was he answered you were ranting about something. You paused leaning closer to the camera. “Are you in the shower?” He blinked leaving his dazed state and nodded blankly. 

“Yeah I was writing lyrics”

“Well let me hear what you got so far?” 

Kim Namjoon: Shoes

You were cleaning up the apartment you and your roommate mister Kim Namjoon were very friendly book lovers your lounge had been lined with bookshelves full of comics, textbooks, journals articles and novels. You frequently spent dinners gushing about the books you had read and recommending each other some favorite. 

You recently had been reading a few erotic romance stories and had blatantly recommended them over dinner last night. To which you thought nothing of it, but here you were cleaning

Namjoon left his shoes under the counter and his coat and bag on the chair you slipped your feet into the shoes and put on the jacket and bag. Grabbing his things and walking about the room putting them back in their place. You turned to see Namjoon stepping out of his room, he looked at your swamped figure in his coat and noticed how his shoes looked comical on your feet. 

He didn’t say a word as he took his scarf from the dresser and began wrapping you up in it, he topped the look off with a hat and sun glasses. You stood there watching the genius at work the smile on his face bringing out his dimples. Reaching onto his back jeans pocket he snapped a picture and added it to his Instagram labeled mini me. 

Park Jimin: Dog Biscuit

Jimin laid on the couch his chin resting on the arm while his arms hung over it. He was watching the front door his tail laid flat against his thigh every now and then his ear would twitch hearing various noises waiting to hear you come home. He was watching the door, his mind playing out your arrival whenever he pictured you his tail would swing and thump hard against the couch. 

He heard the elevator beep at the end of the hall but the steps were too heavy and wide, this wasn’t his beautiful owner. He didn’t hear the familiar rattle of keys. He returned to imagining once more he wanted to hold you in his arms and nuzzle your neck. 

There was the ping of the elevator and something strange it was light steps the legs were shaking and their was panting and groaning sounds he recognised his owners sounds and a million thoughts plagued his mind. 

He moved to the door opening it and looking out to see you beautifully disheveled teeth pinning your bottom lip as you struggled to carry a large bag in each hand. 

“Ah Jimin I have to unpack groceries” you frowned and he had lifted you hoodie and climbed in underneath looking up at you with his puffy eyes and pouty lips. “I bought bikkies”

“The dog biscuits I like”

“Honey they are people biscuits they are just shaped like dog biscuits it’s based off of Scooby doo their Scooby snacks”

“I wouldn’t complain if I was your dog”

Kim Taehyung: Shutter

“He is said to walk these very halls at night, no one has truly seen what he looks like but from what they have seen he has thick eyebrows and a cold dark stare, he can either appear as an angel or a demon and all you hear is a shutter of a camera before you disappear in a flash of light.. The only remnant left behind is the picture he takes.” You looked at the many horrified and dazed faces of the pictures some of them look rather beautiful. “He returns them later and they are never the same they quit the club and leave the school. The rumor is he died whilst taking a picture but nobody knows what it was or how it really happened. Nobody knows why he comes out but when he does, be careful not to let him take your picture” This was your induction to the photography club, but ghost stories in a small room wasn’t really your thing even if there was chimaek.

“Guys I am heading home, I got work tomorrow” you said and began walking down the hall stopping as you heard the sound of a shutter, you turned your heart racing slightly to see a silhouette at the end of the hall taking a picture of a single flower in a tiny vase on the window sill. It reflected the moonlight and he turned to different angles humming deeply.

Approaching him you smiled and looked at the beautiful photo he took he turned watching you, and gestured you to the window. you stood a meter away leaning against the sill and watching him curiously.

“Can you put your hair behind your shoulder and look out that way?” You nodded and did as he said his voice dark chocolate and you followed his instructions. Gazing out the window when he raised the camera and the flash sparked lighting up the hall followed by the echo of a shutter. The sound rang out and you were in the hall but it was day time and though you were in the same place it looked different.

Jeon Jungkook: Fairy Tale

Little Jungkook grew up on fairy tales, princes and princesses, knights and witches. He learnt that good always triumphs over evil and that if he wished hard enough and tried hard enough things will always work out. He believed in Santa and the Easter Bunny, he believed and trusted it all. Until one day something clicked, he lost someone dear to him and things changed. He was cold and didn’t trust anybody. Nobody could betray him if he didn’t have friends in the first place. Jungkook followed a routine leaving the house only for work and the store. He worked in accounting, it was all facts and logical thinking no imagination required. He would come home mentally drained and would fall asleep promptly.

Tonight was no different except he woke in the middle of the night to a strange sound, he froze his hand on his cell phone ready to call for help if needed. He watched the window lift and a figure tumble inside onto the floor.

“Ow, I can’t see” the voice was feminine and the shadowed figure was tiny. He sat up and turned on the light.

“Does this help?” he leaned his chin on his hand and you froze and he smirked “Are you here to steal from me?”

“Would you believe me if I said no?” Raising an eyebrow back at him as you stood using the bookshelf to straighten up he scanned your form for any weapons and came up empty.

“We won’t know if I believe you if you don’t try” he said “So why are you here?”

You looked at the shelf to find a worn out book, smiling to yourself you turned. “I am here to rescue you of course, I heard you were locked away in this castle and I am to save you and we ride off on my noble steed”

“I don’t believe you and you want to know why, because fairy tales aren’t real. There is no good in this world only benefits people only do what benefits them like you, breaking into my house to steal things” he sighed and you felt bad because he spoke like he didn’t care but his eyes were so sad. You walked across the room grabbing his jacket and throwing it at him.

“Come on!” You said “Let’s go back out the window, I am rescuing you from this belief that the world is bad, life is a fairy tale if you make it that way, and you just met the most generous most beautiful and charming young knight in uh a polyester blend fabric but shining armor nonetheless, Give me 24 hours and I will prove you wrong, if I lose I will let you call the police”

“Fine” he sighed swinging his legs out of the bed.

Next Week

[shi-daisy]

I've noticed that you're not very fond of Renji or the Kuchiki characters in general. Can I ask why? (No offense, just curious)

No offense here, anon. I'm more than happy to answer.

I'll start with Rukia since she's the easiest to explain. Rukia was one of my favorite characters up until the Hueco Mundo Arc. You see at first she was a dynamic girl, a little helpless but that was understandable since she had no powers, she was funny, kind and I really felt for her during the first arcs. Then Kubo just replaced her with another character. Rukia got more closed off, agressive, punch happy and tried to make Ichigo apologize about something that wasn't his fault. I didn't hate her, as she still had some of her best traits but this shift made her go from one of my faves to a neutral character. Worst off it's when she marries Renji after he left her for years and almost slashed her to bits, and the novel, oh that damn post canon novel gave me rabies. She's embarrassed by being called Abarai? I could buy this from Orihime, or Momo, hell I'd even buy it from Riruka, but Rukia? No, that's not her. Instead of forgiving Byakuya and Renji in a heartbeat, Rukia's character would've been better off if she told them both to sit on a prickly cactus and stay the hell away from her, then left with Ichigo and Co. to the human world at the end of the Rescue arc. Instead she forgives those two, who have been nothing but shitty to her and takes to hero worshipping Byakuya. No, that's the worst thing she could've done and to top it off she marries one of them and has his kid. That dude hit you once and you not only marry him but have his kid?! Gurl, that literally begging for trouble right there. I just felt disgusted with the way Kubo handled Rukia. I don't hate her but I don't love her as much as everyone else in the fandom does.

Renji And Byakuya though? Those two I absolutely despise.

During the first arc these two come to the human world to arrest Rukia, who need I remind you was completely powerless, and what's the first thing Renji does? Swing a goddamn sword at her. He literally just tried to slash her with his sword. Does Byakuya interfiere? Tells him to maybe tone it down a bit? Nope, he does fucking nothing. Renji keeps trying to hit her, with a grin on his face, and later on even chokes her. It's not until Uryu, who's a freaking Quincy, steps in that the whole aggression stops.

I know people defend this with 'oh Kubo meant for them to seem as villians at the time' but I think you can't come back from trying to slash your bestie/future wife or from letting my sister be slashed to bits.

But ok, if it was just that, I'd be willing to let it slide so as long as the two apologize and Rukia gave em a 'reason you suck speech' or something similar. Well next time we see Renji he's taunting Rukia in prison. He backs out and says it's a joke later but it was still scumy of him to do that. During that same scene Rukia says she knows she'll get killed and pinnapple dumbass tells her Byakuya would intervine, but she shoots him down by saying that he'd likely just kill her himself and has never once cared for her from the moment he adopted her. Like, what? This asshat hasn't even looked her in the eye in 40 years? I know in shinigami time that's like 4 years maybe but it's still a long time to be emotionality neglected.

After his fight with Ichigo we get Renji And Rukia's backstory and instead of growing sympathetic towards him, I hated him more. So he and Rukia grow up together with some friends in the poorest place in Soul Society, and after their friends death they join the academy to get better housing and food. That's good so far, only the two are separate because Renji has more potential and Rukia is average at best. He gets new friends and keeps moving forward. Rukia was alone and stuck. Sad but ok maybe they'll make up after graduation. Nope, because the Kuchiki clan wants to adopt Rukia, remove her from the academy and now she'll live as a Noble. It's clear in that scene that Rukia does not want this, that she'll take any excuse to not accept, does Renji tell her to stay with him, or to choose what she wants? Of course not, the idiot congratulates her, makes a light-hearted joke about it and then sulks when Rukia sadly thanks him and leaves. Then he suddenly decides to stay away from Rukia for... bullshit reasons. Like I get Kubo tried to paint it as a I have to stay away so the Kuchiki won't get mad at her, but Rukia didn't ask for that, she was lonely, even more so without Renji, and he didn't even attempt to communicate with her or just check in? She obviously didn't want that and he didn't either, but no, I'm apparently supposed to be heartbroken that they were speareted. Then when he sees her again, his childhood bestie, the woman he loves, his future wife and mother of his child, what happens? He tried to slash her with a sword when she was depowered. See how his backstory made the previous scene worst. Honestly I was glad he chose to help Ichigo not let Rukia get killed but damn, it shouldn't have taken this long!

After that we get the whole Renji vs Byakuya thing. Renji goes down like a chump, assists in the final battle for a bit and that's it. No apologies for the past, or for what he did when he arrested her, or the things he said to her in prison, zero apologies from Renji Abarai. This doesn't work, especially if Kubo wanted to marry these two off by the end of the series. Renji needed to apologize directly, we needed to see it play out, not just be told he did it offscreen. This left me hating Renji for the reminder of the show. He was now more friendly and even a bit of a comic relief but his first impression muddled that for me. On the Fullbringer Arc he refused to fight Jackie because a man who hits a woman is trash but... didn't you just do that to the chick you're in love with like two years prior? Did he forget? Was that an admission of guilt or something? I dunno. It felt like a last ditch attempt from Kubo to make him more likeable but to me it fell flat. By the end I was fully disinterested in Renji, wheather he lived, died, married Rukia, Byakuya, whoever the hell, I just didn't care for him at all. It did bug me that he took Uryu's spot in the final chapter cover. Uryu deserved better than Mr hypocrite taking his limelight. Renji would've been better as one off villian, Kubo should've given his backstory to another character and have them with Rukia instead. I'll never get over the fact that this dude spent his first appearance being the most unlikeable jerk, physically assaulting the woman he loves, talking shit like a cocky dumbass, almost killing two of the main characters, and taking the girl he loved to her death; only to be married to said girl in the end, with a daughter and on best terms with the people he fucked over. I ain't a fan of him.

Byakuya it's another character who I wanted to smack against the concrete, repeatedly. First appearance? Lets his lieutenant throw his sister around like a ragdoll, almost kills an innocent human, and basically acts like everyone's beneath him? Good, I already hate him. Next time we see him, he shows no emotion towards Rukia's sentence, he's still hell-bent on stopping the human squad from rescuing her, almost lets Renji die after he loses to Ichigo (honestly I was down for Renji bitting it but c'mon this dude is your employee and you don't care if he dies? Big yikes) Keeps messing up every attempt from the others to rescue Rukia. Almost kills Renji in a fight, then goes to fight Ichigo and here's where he became irredeemable for me. During his fight with Ichigo, he says he'll beat Ichigo and then kill Rukia himself. That's when I wanted Ichigo to chop him into sashimi. You can't say something like that and expect anyone to forgive you. He loses against Ichigo and at the very least honors his word to not kill Rukia. Okay then he defends Rukia from the real baddies. Nice, I still hate him. When he's being healed he tells Rukia that he adopted her because his wife was Rukia's actual sister, and he promised he'd keep Rukia safe if he ever found her.

All throughout the flashback I only felt sympathy for Hisana. Being put in the poorest place in Rukon, having to leave your baby sister to survive, marrying a guy who you love only for his family to hate you because you're not Noble, then getting terminally ill and not being able to help your lost sibling, all of that is horrible and broke my heart. More so when you realize that Byakuya didn't keep his promise to protect Rukia because it would break the law. He can stick his laws where the sun don't shine Rukia almost got killed unfairly because of him, Ichigo and his friends would've died unfairly because of him, he doesn't deserve any forgiveness. At least the dude had the spine to apologize on screen but that still just the bare minimum. I wanted to see him make up for all the shit he caused, maybe try and help change the law so a mistake like this dosen't happen again, just something productive. Well no, he's still the same cold and unlikable jerk we first met, only now he seems to treat Rukia better. This should've been a start, not the default. When he almost died in the final arc I thought it was a fitting end, he's humbled down, he apologizes to Rukia and Renji for losing, he leaves everything in Ichigo's hands, which mirrors how he was opposing him on the first arc but it's now fully on his side, it was the best way to salvage this unlikeable prick. But no, he dosen't die. He lives and its back to the grind again. Worst of all it's how he appears during Rukia's big fight and she uses her Bankai, he's there to mansplain and sour the fight and ugh I hated that chapter. Then he says he's proud of Rukia and it's meant to be a heartwarming moment, to me however it was vomit inducing. You're proud now? Two years ago you almost killed her! You ignored her and neglected her for decades and this is supposed to be cute?! No, his pride is worth less than dirt when he treated her this badly before. Heck if he had won back at the beginning Rukia wouldn't even be there. You almost killed her two years before, and now you're proud? Miss me with that nonsense.

The ending was especially jarring for me not just because Renji got with Rukia but also because they, along with Byakuya did nothing to fix the system that almost led to Rukia's unfair death. None of them did anything and if there's one thing I would love to see if Bleach ever got a sequel,would be Ichika yelling at the three of them for their ineptitude. They let the Sokyoku get rebuilt, they didn't do a smidge to change the system even though they're two captains and a lieutenant, and still live in prefect rich peep paradise when Rukon is still as shitty as it was when Renji and Rukia lived there.

Sorry for the long answer, I just wanted to let everything out as in most discussions people are baffled by the fact that I don't like these three characters all that much. Hope this answers your question anon!

[frankendykes-monster]

"In April 1962, a match pitting Japanese pro wrestling superstar Rikidozan and tag-team partners Toyonobori and Great Togo against American challengers Freddie Blassie, Lou Thesz, and Mike Sharpe aired nationally on Japanese television. During the bout, Blassie bit Great Togo on the forehead, opening a horrible bloody gash. Two elderly viewers, shocked by the gory sight, collapsed and died, casualties of a media war that saw networks and sponsors producing outrageous programs and stunts to grab the audience. Released later that year, Honda's King Kong vs. Godzilla is pop art imitating life, with two gargantuan wrestlers of Japanese and American pedigree tussling on live TV, raising ratings while razing cities. It's monster-movie-as-satire, a biting critique of the banal programming that dominated television, prompting widespread debate over the ascendant medium's effect on Japanese culture. The social critic Soichi Oya warned that TV was creating "a nation of 100 million idiots."

"People were making a big deal out of ratings," said Honda. "But my own view of TV shows was that they did not take the viewer seriously, that they took the audience for granted...so I decided to show that through my movie."

King Kong vs. Godzilla was one of five banner releases for 1962 to commemorate Toho's thirtieth anniversary, along with [Akira] Kurosawa's Sanjuro (Tsubaki Sanjuro), Hiroshi Inagaki's 47 Samurai (Chu-shingura), Mikio Naruse's Lonely Lane (Hourou-ki), and Yasuki Chiba's Born in Sin (Kawa no hotori de). By far Honda's most commercially successful film, King Kong vs. Godzilla was a runaway hit and the bedrock of the long-running Godzilla franchise that followed. Though Godzilla was a household word, this was the monster's first appearance in seven years. Only after Godzilla battled "the eighth wonder of the world" - Kong, the more popular monster, received top billing - did Toho truly begin producing its long and legendary series of monster-versus-monster sequels.

This is also perhaps Honda's most infamous effort, thanks to a poor imitation of the great King Kong and an inept, reworked American version that, as with Godzilla [1954], was distributed to many more territories than Honda's cut. Most troubling for Honda, though, was how Godzilla, in only its third film - and the first in color and scope - transformed from nuclear protest monster into outsized Rikidozan, engaging in comic wrestling antics. "[The studio] thought it would be interesting to make these two monsters fight," Honda later reflected. "That was all there was to it. Still, when you are the director, it is your film, so you still have to do your best. So I sucked it up and worked as hard as possible."

The project originated in Hollywood several years earlier, when stop-motion animator Willis O'Brien developed a proposed project titled King Kong vs. Frankenstein (later King Kong vs. Prometheus). O'Brien envisioned a battle in the streets of San Francisco between Kong and a monster created by Victor Frankenstein's grandson; the creatures would be animated via O'Brien's signature effects work. O'Brien partnered with independent producer John Beck, who failed to attract a Hollywood studio but eventually hit paydirt in Japan. Beck brokered a deal wherein Toho purchased the right to use King Kong in a film; however, O'Brien's ideas were jettisoned and he would have no involvement in the production. Toho made King Kong vs. Godzilla instead, with Beck retaining the lucrative overseas distribution rights.

RKO's fee for King Kong was reportedly 80 million Yen (about $220,000), inflating the budget and forcing Honda to cut costs. At the last minute, he canceled plans to film scenes set on Faro Island, Kong's home, on location in Sri Lanka. Instead, the crew shot at Oshima Island near Tokyo and on studio sets. "King Kong took all the money!" said actor Yu Fujiki.

Shinichi Sekizawa's script is light and quickly paced. Tako (Ichiro Arishima), the excitable advertising chief for Pacific Pharmaceutical Co., is desperate to shake up the low-rated TV science program that his company sponsors. He sends a cameraman, Sakurai (Tadao Takashima), and a sound man, Furue (Fujiki), to the Solomon Islands archipelago to investigate reports of a majin (demon god) worshipped by natives of tiny Faro Island. They return with King Kong literally in tow, but Kong breaks free in route and runs wild in Japan. Meanwhile, Godzilla bursts out of an iceberg in the Arctic and instinctively heads south toward its Tokyo stomping grounds. The Japanese military can't stop either creature, so a plan is hatched to pit them against one another, a monster matchup tailormade for the TV cameras.

King Kong vs. Godzilla takes a page from the keizai shosetsu (business novels) and films of the late 1950s and early 1960s that spoofed ruthless Japanese business practices. There are also similarities to Yasuzo Masumura's excellent Giants and Toys (Kedamono no yado, 1958), a satire about two candy companies engaged in an over-the-top media war, though where Masumura is cynical and heavy-handed, Honda is lighthearted. "The reason I showed the monster battle through the prism of a ratings war was to depict the reality of the times," said Honda. "When you think of King Kong just plain fighting Godzilla, it is stupid. But how you stage it, the times in which it takes place, that's the thought process of the filmmaker. Back then, Sekizawa was working on pop song lyrics and TV series, so he had a clear insight into television."

[Section omitted]

"This is neither the Kong of 1933 nor the Godzilla of 1954, and the monsters inspire little of their original pathos. Instead of moody monochrome, they are photographed in bright, revealing Eastmancolor and often framed at waist level, betraying any illusion of size. Godzilla has an improved design and blue-hot radiation breath; but Kong, played by stuntman Shoichi Hirose, is too obviously a man in a furry costume with lumpy facial features. Curiously, RKO reportedly required Toho not only to distinguish its Kong with a different face, but also to depict the ape snatching a female and scaling a building, recalling the original. Mie Hama does an excellent job shrieking in Kong's clutches, though one wishes Honda had borrowed even just a bit of the tragic romance of Merian C. Cooper's film. Godzilla mocks its opponent, Kong beats his chest and scratches his noggin, and both monsters employ slapstick fighting moves - Godzilla kicking boulders, Kong swinging its foe by the tail, and so on. Kong appears outmatched, but the odds are evened in the final battle via a deus ex machina, a thunderstorm that gives Kong a jolt of strength-inducing electricity."

[Section omitted]

"Because it was made not long after the AMPO protests, King Kong vs. Godzilla is sometimes interpreted as a critique of the Japan-US alliance, the monsters representing their respective countries. Studies such as Cynthia Erb's excellent Tracking King Kong make this analogy, but Honda had no such intent and, in fact, he portrays Kong as something of a proxy Japanese monster, with no apparent American origins. Unlike The Mysterians, Battle in Outer Space, Mothra, or Gorath, there is no involvement by the West in averting the crisis, and unlike Honda's 1950s dramas, the trappings of imported American culture (steaks and fries eaten with a fork and knife, jazz albums decorating Fumiko's apartment) are benign. Kong unintentionally helps expel Godzilla from Japan, playing the hero-by-default role that Godzilla would adopt a few years later. The fight ends in an apparent draw, then the monsters swim away - an ending to be repeated often, with variation."

- Ishiro Honda: A Life in Film, From Godzilla to Kurosawa, by Steve Ryfle and Ed Godziszewski

[maraschinocheri]

A novel no one needed on the Les Mis filmed concert: 1,800+ words of stuff and nonsense.

The first thing that jumps into my head is that I am so glad the concert run is over, and the second is that it’s a very strange feeling when the strongest vocal performances on stage seemed to belong to Enjolras, Eponine, and … Cosette. But let’s get the rest of it all over with first.

• Alfie Boe’s acting has improved since he last played Valjean, thankfully, but good lord, he really needs to not get involved in any even moderately extended run of anything, because he clearly cannot hack it physically or vocally. And while it may seem churlish to say so, I am so bored of his Valjean. Warble warble warble, seeming so out of place with everyone else’s voices, and just. Enough. He looked lovely, of course, and I’m sure his fans truly enjoyed this repeat of him in the role, when … he was actually there, but he sounded absolutely exhausted. I’m afraid I spent a lot of his performance wishing I were watching JOJ on film instead.

• Michael Ball’s mention during the encore that this was his last performance as Javert seems a fair thing; he is not—and never was— meant for this role on any level (I maintain he has all the threatening menace of Snidely Whiplash), though Stars was not bad, especially because he left himself, you know, sing and not bark or growl or spend so much damn time and energy trying to not be *~MICHAEL BALL~*. The gritted teeth “m’sieur! mayor!” was just a boring choice, the Confrontation was a muddy mess, the Intervention played too much for comic effect (though MASSIVE POINTS for bringing back the original why the hell did he run? instead of why on earth did he run?), the barricade scenes had too little punch, the Sewers had so much potential that disappeared, but … 

But. While Ball’s is not my preferred style of Javert and never could be, I have to take a deep breath and blinkingly applaud his wild leaping commitment to batshittery in the Suicide. I mean, if you’re going for full on batshit at that point, you have to really sell it, and with any luck make it a different range of batshit than previous batshit Javerts, and he did. My dad, the sole member of my family not much prone to show commentary, said “That was excellent.” firmly after the Suicide, and a part of me grudgingly agreed. But please, never again, Michael. Honestly I think he’s relieved it’s done.

(Also honestly, the most amusing moment of the entire concert experience for me was my mother’s interval exclamation that she had “a new boyfriend!” Assuming she meant Bwadders, I laughed and asked oh really, who? And she said … Javert. After I recovered myself, I reminded her that Javert was Michael. Ball., who has been at one stage or another my—and everyone else’s—mother’s boyfriend since 1985. She had entirely forgotten he was playing Javert in the concert and was bizarrely fooled by wig and costume, but assured me that even now, she “could swim in his dimples.” My mother, everyone.)

• Shan Ako was a marvelous Eponine, and I loved her On My Own. She’ll be great fun to watch in the actual production, I think, and I so appreciated a tough cookie Eponine with old school vocal power but newer school technique and touch and oh my god subtlety without losing anything in characterization, even given the limitations of a concert performance. Houchen’s Marius wouldn’t have deserved her, anyway.

• Speaking of Houchen. You know, I was fond of Rob while he was in his actual run as Marius, but he’s absolutely checked out of it mentally and emotionally, and it shows. He still has a lovely voice that really works as Marius sometimes, but there’s nothing … there underneath the pretty sheen, and after the few years’ distance since his proper run, I’ve seen enough Marii who enjoyed the role and found substance in it that the lack of depth in Rob’s take was disappointing. However, I acknowledge that some of Marius’ actual-show chances of showing range don’t happen in the concert version, and perhaps if they’d been included my opinion would change. He knows he’s aged out the role now, however, and I highly doubt he’d ever want to do it again even if invited to do so. But who knows.

• I walked into the concert film with no opinion of Lily Kerhoas’ Cosette other than knowing she could sing it beautifully, but I was actually impressed—and sort of want to sit nearly every principal Cosette of the last, oh, decade in front of her performance and say, see you’re allowed to act; it can actually work—and I look forward to her work in the proper show as well, especially if they get her some costumes that actually fit and don’t look made of tissue.

• God, I hate Matt Lucas. The end.

• Katy Secombe has added some different touches to her Madame T, some good, and some—obviously Lucas-influenced—bad. It’s unfortunate that some of the Thenardier ~comedy absolutely cannot work in a concert setting—the wedding was awful—but she made a decent hash of a bad deal.

• Which brings me to Bwadders. Oh, Bradley. He’s just so very, very good at Enjolras, and always has been. This concert!jolras, however, had one very different vibe from his run’s take on the role, which was … a hopefulness, maybe? A joy and breathless hope running beneath the passion passion PASSION that’s always been there, and it was beautiful to watch in his eyes and mannerisms. The concert contained Bradley somewhat, in that his strong physicality wasn’t allowed to sort of fill the room (and barricade) as it had at the Queens, and I missed that. Also—and there is no getting around this, sadly, for me—that manbun still ain’t it. (Gingerfather—whose fave character in the show is Enjolras—just sighed heavily and said that there should’ve just been one of the Ponytails of Yore instead, and you know, he’s not wrong.) Bradley also nailed two of the three Big Notes, but his until the earth is free was done differently from how he approached it during his real run, and not for the better (the Ghost of THAXTON giveth, and it taketh away). And yet … it didn’t matter. It truly didn’t. He was the best of the principals, and at least for me would probably have been even if he’d bollocked the other two Big Notes as well. Anyway, Bwadders. A thrill to watch, and alive with energy so much of the show otherwise lacked.

• You will note no mention yet of Fletcher. I refer to the point above re: Matt Lucas.

• The Amis, as one. I am aware that many, many people adore Raymond Walsh’s Grantaire, and I entirely understand why. He was fine. Craig Mather’s Combeferre and Niall Sheehy’s Courfeyrac both allowed both actors to show off some real oomph in their voices, though I’m still much too rattled by a Courfeyrac wearing Joly’s clothes. I love Vinny Coyle because he’s just so obviously, thrillingly in love with the show, but he’s also a fabulous Feuilly, and I merrily handwave the not-so-great we’ll be therrrre because a) it’s a horrendous note few people can carry well, and b) I’ve seen and heard him do it brilliantly so many other times when he was covering Feuilly as a swing. And it was delicious to see Will Jennings as a background onstage SwingAmi. Everyone else was just sort of … there, though all very pretty. It was extremely clear who had been in casts properly educated and invested in the show, but that’s a record I’ve played enough.

• I will never not love seeing Sarah Lark, Jo Loxton, and Tamsin Dowsett. I also deeply appreciate seeing Oli Brenin doing everything, everywhere, all the time.

• It is never not wonderful seeing Earl Carpenter bishoping, but my god EARL WHAT EVEN with that Bamatabois. What even. There was active squeaky recoiling happening in my row.

• Gavroche was excellent and adorable and GINGER. Full marks.

• And so to the encores. The only point I could see to the coat handover from Michael to Bradley was to give Michael a Moment along the lines of the Valjeanfest, as it’s not like the role of Javert is new to Bradley. However, I was fascinated by the strangeness of the harmonized Stars, and I think I need to watch and listen to it again about a thousand times to really confirm my proper opinion. I know Bradley doesn’t sing Stars that high for real—and certainly doesn’t need to—and what they did here doesn’t really … show his approach to the role, but it was interesting, and I give them credit for the try. (I did attempt to imagine others—let’s be real, I was imagining THAXTON—even being asked to make a go of this, and my imagined Thaxtonic response will make for excellent nightmare fuel.)

• Then, then, then. All Valjeans all the time, including some Potato in a tour costume that still has me hissing at its wrongness. Anyway! Leaving aside Alfie—whose section just really sounded like jesus christ I cannot believe I have to do this again; I just want to lie down for a thousand years and block Cameron’s number from any further contact with me put to music—I found the whole thing much more palatable than the 25th anniversary Valjeanfest, perhaps mostly because of my fave part of the whole concert—the whole two lines JOJ and Killian shared—but also because the four Valjeans not actively praying for their own deaths all seemed to have physical, emotional, and vocal respect for the role, the show, the audience, and each other. It was a strange joy to watch.

Which, truly, this concert was as well, in enough places to ensure that I will buy the inevitable DVD. On some occasions I may even start its playback before Look Down (Paris). Maybe.

(One more small thought, though, on this concert and why I am glad it’s over: I know the run sparked a lot of joy for a lot of people, but if I saw one more bitchy tweet from the cast members I might have screamed. Are some audience members dickheads? Absolutely. Then enforce the fucking rules. Train and allow your FOH to go after those people (and force the management to back the FOH staff up!), remove them, throw one of the old pest catcher boxes from under the Queens seats at them, whatever. But shut up. I don’t even follow any of the whingers I saw! Twitter just enjoyed throwing their tweets into my feed like a toddler’s wall-splattering food. #blessed)

Anyway. That’s that done. The show’s world turns, though obviously it no longer revolves.

[courage-a-word-of-justice]

Waver 1 - 13 (FINAL) | Prisma Illya 1 - 10 (FINAL) | Prisma Illya 2wei! 1 - 3

Another (and to be honest, the last) batch of impressions from the Fate/ project.

Waver 1

Well, this’ll be interesting. I’ve been hyping this show up for a while for myself, so let’s see how it goes.

Geez, this intro is like a dang movie! I’d love to see a proper Troyca movie! (<-Says the fan of Troyca.)

Wait, if it’s Kayneth Archibald, then is Archibald relatd to Archisorte? Or am I just making thing up here…? Also note Reines refers to Kayneth as “Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald”, possibly meaning Archibald is the middle name, since El-Melloi is a shared surname (or is that a title…?). That probably means Archibald =/= Archisorte and both are similar-sounding middle names. The fact Reines is Kayneth’s niece also explains things quite a bit.

Why is Waver upside down…? Won’t the blood rush to his head soon? (Sure, it allows me to ogle his hair more, but…logic rules more than my stupid whims, y’know?)

Interesting. You can see that although Waver grew out his hair, there’s two layers to it – the longer one in the front and the shorter one in the back. (I’m just curious because I like the hime cut – which is pretty similar - and long hair on dudes in general, in part because both are fairly rare.)

Okay, that explained my gripe with upside-down Waver. Thanks, Reines. (<-genuine)

Aw, Waver buddy, even at this stage, you’re plenty cute. Don’t ever change! (<- As you can see, I am an easily pleased person in most cases.)

Melvin who now???

Troyca’s comic animation rules! It’s too bad Idolish7 Second Beat is using chibis instead of this…

Professor Kayneth. I forgot he had a formal title. I wonder, does Waver - I mean, El-Melloi II – have that title as well?

I guess I should’ve known Saber had the capability to look scary, but…I never knew Saber could look so scary…

*cut to eyecatch* - *points at eyecatch* Okay, someone tried to save budget here, didn’t they???

Aw, friendship between fiction boys is cute…until it involves the puking up on blood on one end.

Waver is the OG underdog here…don’tcha think?

“…with several demands.” – Uh-oh…this is gonna be bad, isn’t it?

You need a Tuner for Magic Crests? (…Like a tuning fork, but a person?) *brow raised in suspicion*

…is it appropriate for me to say “Oh, good lord!” now? (Okay, I did that rather deliberately, but normally in these notes I’d self-censor it to be “oh, goodness” or something like that.)

Seriously, the black-haired dude in the Ionian Hetairoi is my favourite, even if only because he looks like Waver (and he’s really easy to spot, to boot).

Why is this in first person??? I’ve dropped entire shows based on their usage of 1st person cam! Room Mate and Makura no Danshi basically scarred me for life on that front…and both of those are TV shorts!

Hey, wait a second. This “use a quote on the titlecard” thing is clearly an Ei Aoki sort of thing to do. I mean, it’s in ID: Invaded as well…

Waver 2

*new blonde girl appears* - So this is the rumoured Animusphere girl (Mary), huh?

Bounded field, huh? I’m glad I chose to watch F/Z before this, then. Now I actually understand the (rough) mechanics of how that works.

There’s assassins and then there’s Assassins…*thinks about the Holy Grail War*

As it turns out, astromancy is basically astrology.

The one thing that bugs me about “Modern Magecraft” (there’s a similar concept of New Magic in Mairimashita! Iruma-kun) is…how is the magic “modern”…? Especially in a work like this, where the magic is based in arcane rituals and bloodlines…you really need to establish how the “modern” bit works.

Gray is facing away from the Animusphere girl (Mary), I noticed.

“When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.” – Sherlock Holmes – Basically, the fact I’ve memorised this quote is one of the lingering impacts of my time in the Detective Conan fandom, as it can be used on things like quizzes, not just mysteries.

Can we please use proper English, Waver??? (Says me to a character whose name I still find nonsensical enough to not be proper English.) As I said previously, “whydunit” is modus operandi or motive…the new bit is “howdunit”, which would be the method.

I do believe the geocentric model was overthrown by people like Kepler.

Gray kind of looks like Saber with that hairstyle, come to think of it.

With the way Gray hides herself under that hood, it’s no mystery as to why guys love her…at least, I know ThatRandomEditor does. Of course, I’m heavily neutral on the whole affair because I don’t swing that way, but…you know…

LEMPC seems to stand for “Lord El-Melloi Production Committee”, if I’m guessing right.

I seem to remember there was a quote somewhere that said the only constant in this world was change…hmm.

Waver 3

They seem to keep calling Japan “the Far East” (or at least, Japan is part of the Far East). That’s a pretty antiquated term for a supposedly “modern” magic anime. I get vaguely peeved by the term “the Far East” because it causes people to take an oriental viewpoint on things and thus it’s kind of like people from the Anglosphere looking down on Asians. (I also get vaguely peeved by the term “Westerners” for much the same reason and “Caucasians” because it implies all people of the Anglosphere come from the Caucasus, which is false…then again, these niggles are specific to international studies, so I have a vested interest in explaining them.)

…Wow, that star-eyepatch girl is…really something, to be thirsty specifically for Waver’s Iron Claw. (Then again, with my weird tastes in things, who am I to critique her?)

Flitz von Erich. I was surprised to learn this guy actually exists…on Wikipedia, at the very least.

“Any lady should know about wrestling.” – I disagree, Luvia.

Blue furry electrical creature…I dunno how the zoology in this show works, but the fantasy series I’m reading as of the time I was typing this comment has a blue creature called a Raiju (literally “thunder beast” in Japanese, so it would suit the “Thunder” in the episode title). If it’s anything like that, I’d laugh myself silly.

This girl on the poster seems to be called Flan Noir (or something similar).

“…yellow, round, fluffy-smelling…” – What? Svin, you have no right to call a girl those words!

When is this series set if people don’t have phones as a standard? *Googles* Okay, if F/SN is set in 2004, then F/Z is 1994. That would make sense, actually. The internet as we know it was first used in 1995 and didn’t become widespread for home use until a few years later, as I remember having computers in 2004 (albeit the blocky ones with the dial-up).

I was looking at images for the source material and I think I know why I like Waver (aside from the fact he has long hair). Normally I like the boys whose appearances are hard to get right, such as En…Waver in the novels and manga for this series sometimes looks grumpy, sometimes he looks constipated and worst of all, sometimes he looks like Snape with a hook nose.

Okay, so I googled Caules to figure out who his sister was…and I got Apocrypha spoilers. See, his sister is Fiore, who is apparently in that series.

The videos got encoded funny again…

There seems to be a mystery around why Svin and Gray can’t be together…well, one deeper than just “Svin is gaga for Gray [for reasons we don’t know at this point in time]”.

Ha, the El-Melloi Class is basically just the Misfit Class from Mairimashita! Iruma-kun.

“Only the flesh was bitten off.”  

This Jupiter gibberish, I assume, is drawing upon the mythology of Jupiter – that is, Zeus – as the god of thunder and king of the gods (thus presiding over living beings).

The English is good on the bill, bar a space between “Mystics of magecraft”.

Norwich is apparently a “faculty” which the Modern Magecraft Theories guys – i.e. Waver – rule over.

Can you imagine Waver swearing? Since I had the volume off, I basically made him say “…if Sir Gueldoa had resorted to brute force, we would’ve been f***ed” in my head…and that was hilarious.

Aw, thanks 7Mononoke. “A cowardly thief sneaks away in the night. If you stride away, bursting with song, you are a conquering king.” That’s a quote from Rider himself.

So the Association has set positions for Masters in the War? Geesh…that must be hard on Waver to find out they’re closed, considering how much Waver pines for Rider.

Waver 4

I finally got the chance to listen to the ED last ep and now it’s the OP I can hear properly. This OP isn’t particularly impressive, considering it’s an instrumental (instrumentals always seem to have less impact for me unless I’m looking for something to chill to), but it does capture the London-esque spirit of the setting very well.

What’s up with this metal (?) maid off to the side, anyway?

“Good thinking to leave the door open…” – For some reason, even though it’s a completely different and much more benign context, this made me think of KyoAni and my heart sunk.  

Atrum Galliasta…I hate that man. He may look hot, but he was nothing but a b*stard to Medea.

Bolo ties…nrgh…Basically, ever since Arima wore a bolo tie, I’ve become fairly bugged by them. That’s why Bram’s bugs me.

Aw, Waver, buddy, plase don’t sacrifice yourself again. I read on the wiki you become a Servant’s vessel (specifically for Zhu Ge Liang), so keep your hopes up.

I’m seriously feeling ID: Invaded vibes from this episode, what with the lightning.

I suspect a locked room murder is going to happen soon, knowing the genre. Either that or some other crime.

Considering Fate/ was an eroge-based thing initially, these sex jokes…there’s probably plenty of them out there.

Well, it seems this series only makes sense in that non-Detective Conan way, i.e. you want to know how it all comes together and can’t necessarily figure it out for yourself until you know how the magic works. I’m randomly going to guess this is more Jupiter-based stuff and call it a day on that front.

Seriously, I never got what was up with nightgowns (or just pyjamas in general) having hats. You don’t need protection for your head at night…that’s what pillows are for, yeah? (The only reason I see a hat-like thing working with nightwear is a onesie and that’s meant to be part of the inherent appeal of the thing.)

Waver 5

I feel like Adashino is meant to be an Irene Adler-type figure…

“Peaceful Fairys” (sic)

Where did Kairi’s scar come from…?

The Black Dog was in Mahoutsukai no Yome as well, but this one looks a lot less inviting, huh?

It seems, like the name Rail Zeppelin implies (as “Demon Eyes Collection Train”), most of the people involved in this case have Magic Eyes (or whatever they’re actually called). I wouldn’t be surprised if Kairi had them as well, considering he’s wearing dark glasses in the middle of a thunderstorm.

“King Arthur is a dude, right?” - *laughs madly* They finally managed to parody their own bulls***! (Well, I’m not counting Carnival Phantasm or whatever else because this is the first time they threw a meta joke in there in the whole of this project, as far as I can remember.)  

Trimmau seems to be the maid’s name…huh. They never mentioned that earlier, I don’t think.

So what’s the difference between Fairy Eyes and Mystic Eyes?

Wait, does that even work…? The entire house is the murder weapon? That’s basically breaking the “secret passageway” thing on a larger scale.

So what’s Trevor’s motive…?

The dogs running towards the Workshop reminded me of the Hunger Games for some reason…must be the climax.

That fairy isn’t emoting much…

Oh cra-Wills is going to sacrifice himself, like Adashino was going to do! That’s the second time I’ve seen that in 2 days (the first was in the Hypnosis Mic manga about the Dirty Dawg).

Uh…Waver’s not particularly fit or fast, is he…?

Can you be paid for your case if your client is essentially dead…?

Adra? I read around and Adra seems to be a way to spell the location (or whatever it is) in the first case…which got adapted into a stage play, but not an anime. That’s probably what he’s (Waver) referring to.

Notably, the title is translated to “lance” but yari means spear…

Waver 6

I seriously wanna slap that pink-haired girl…Update: Her name is Yvette.

This is basically Gray fanservice…

If Gray = Saber and Saber =King Arthur…hmm…does it count as a girl’s party?

Homeland? Since Britain is Saber’s (aka Gray’s) home country, I think they meant “hometown”…I’d hav to listen to the Japanese to make sure, though.

I still think Waver is a stupid, or at the very least false, name for a boy, especially if he did come from Britain. That’s basically my one limitation on him as a husbando.

The red bit of the eyecatch was shapd like an eye…it did catch eyes in a sense, after all.

So Trimmau is sustained by magic.

Locked-room…or rather, bounded field…mystery time!

Luvia did mention wrestling in another episode…

I had to google that, but the Separation Castle is from the Adra case mentioned in episode 5. No wonder I don’t remember it…

“Are you suggesting there were faults…” (from Luvia) - Ooh, I was thinking the perpetrator was caught inside their own bounded field or maybe it was an outsider, but that works too, Reines.

Add calld Luvia out for her extravagance, LOL.

Catch-as-catch-can appears to be “no-holds-barred fighting”, particularly wrestling.

That case was both informative and possibly solveable by the audience. Both good qualities for a mystery.

If you summon the spirit again, is it the same Rider with the same memories? Or can you summon a different version of the same Rider with amnesia, much like Rin did with Archer? Update: Oh yeah, I did read this on the wiki at one point but then forgot about it. The next episode (7) confirms that Rider wouldn’t remember Waver if he were summoned again.

Waver 7

…C’mon, admit it, show. The glasses are not only there for plot reasons but to up Waver’s status as megane boy for the rest of this case. Not that I mind – I actually really like megane boys, but I’m nowhere near the love of Meganebu – but in the case of plausibility, I wanna poke holes into it.

Auction for which Mystic Eyes now…?

There’s a guy…with an elephant head…I know I shouldn’t be bugged by it, but I need the MST3K mantra right now.

This is gonna be a Murder on the Orient Express thing, isn’t it? All cases set on trains seem to take cues or make homage to it. (I may not be that proficient on Christie in comparison to Holmes, since Holmes was Conan’s inspiration, but Murder on the Orient Express I have read and I did secure an anthology of 4 Christie novels at one point specifically so that I could improve in this area.)

The main series never explained the bad blood between the Church and the Tower, did they…?

*sweatdrop* Let me guess…when Yvette mentions “multiplay”, she means a threesome, right?

How do anime people see out of those blindfold thing, anyway??? (Or is it that Leandra has Mystic Eyes that were sold off or otherwise tampered with?)

I believe the word is “palate”, Kairi (or subbers).

Anime characters being bagworms with their blankets is always appealing, no matter the gender. It’s funny and/or relatable, after all.

Does Gray get motion sickness…? Update: Seems I spoke about a minute too soon. She does.

Waver 8

How does Waver know that Adashino got the documents about the train? Is it because she was in all those places at all those times and he connected the dots?

This lady has heterochromia. Specifically, one is brown and the other is blue or green.

Hmm? I thought the character design was familiar for this. As it turns out, Jun Nakai (who did the character design for this) also did Gate’s, which explains it.

Dionysus is the Greek god of wine, IIRC. Hephaestion is, as (s)he explained, the confidante of Alexander the Great (had to google this one).

It’s hard to see before the brightly-lit scene where Olga reappears, but as shown, Waver seems to have cut off part of his forelocks on the left side.

What’s an Odo???...ooh, fanservice…*ogles*

The summoning of Hephaestion and Trisha’s murder may or may not be related…we just don’t know how, yet.

I think a Detective Conan Murder on the Orient Express-style mystery would be a good video ga-*googles* There’s at least one of them out there already (albeit only in Japan)...namely, this one. Spoke too soon.

Oh yeah…this is Olga’s new room, isn’t it? I almost forgot about that.

Update: I think this look at the Adra Separation Castle case is interesting. It’s similar to posts I would write, but done by a professional – namely Richard Eisenbeis of Kotaku and Anime News Network.

Waver 9

So if there’s a Servant…you have to find the Master.

Olga reminds me of Reines…kind of.

LOL, whoever thought of a zombie cooking show…?

This series really goes all-in on the zombies and the fake-outs thereof, huh? Dangit, Melvin, don’t scare us.

Melvin has a really odd relationship with Waver, huh? If you’re really insisting you’re “the only person to ever be able to hurt Waver”, I don’t quite see how you guys can be friends in the normal sense of the word.

Why would someone have a violin at a time like this…?

Interestingly, they don’t bother to do any fanservice of Caules. That scene with Gray and Yvette was fanservice for those who like them, but the only guy who’s getting to do any fanservice in this series is Waver himself…(what with him being naked and knocked out right now.)

“Sibyl” seems to be a synonym for “virgin”…(*whispers “Awkward…”*)

Update: After reading some of Marth’s posts on this series, I’m inclined to call this “Murders on a Train (with an Exploding Helicopter for Good Measure)”.

Waver 10

For some reason, there’s episode 0 – 9, then 11 – 13 on the service I’m using. Where’s 10?

I think Waver’s relationship with Rider is interesting because of the way I think of relationships myself. Waver has made it clear that he wants to see Rider again so he can basically prostrate at his feet all over again (and maybe win a wish and/or see Oceanus while they’re at it), but – hey, hear this! - I used to believe, when I was still an impressionable kid, all relationships, whether they be between friends, family or even lovers, lasted roughly in the same state basically forever (as in, friends stay friends forever, they’ll never be so far apart that they can’t kep their relationship alive etc. etc.)…Obviously, I was wrong and arguably, this change in thinking, plus the related changes in technology, are where my ability to fleetingly but passionate love both 2D boys and the series they come from comes from.

Wait, so the Child of Einasshe (sp?) is the forest, yeah? I don’t think I got that 100% straight.

I never thought the shield form of a Mystic Code could be used for snowboarding down a mountain/hill…whatever Gray just went down. I didn’t even know Add had a shield form, for that matter.

“[U]sual individual” – LOL. What a way to refer to Waver.

“Wait a minute!” – I’m just imagining Phoenix Wright all of a sudden. A Waver legal mystery series would be boring as all get out – I’m far less interested in the courtroom versions of mysteries and more interested in how the pieces fit together. (Update: Then again, I am a person who likes the action genre and courtroom mysteries don’t have much of that, which might also explain my choice.)

“…lacking the element of motive to begin with.” – Well, Waver’s not wrong…

I’m observing this apple and noticing someone skimped on the detail around the stem. Does anyone still remember Art Academy for the DS? After looking at some promo material for it, I basically learnt how to draw a proper apple (and nothing else, really). If an apple is just drawn as a circle, it doesn’t quite look like an apple up close. (Two of the main things I screw up on when drawing are perception and the colour of highlights, both of which are covered in something like an apple stem and the related indent.)

Oh goodness…I was hoping Karabo would keep his vision (or actual eyeballs)…but that’s gruesome.

I’m guessing, based on the wheelchair, that Waver’s still paralysed or otherwise not able to move around like normal. Update: Spoke too soon.

Someone encoded the video funny again…

Waver 11

What was that crossword thing…? A warding spell of some sort?

Is that an owl in the back?!

Stealth fighter…Rider wanted on, didn’t he?

Every time he appears on screen now, I basically curse Melvin. He’s entertaining to watch, sure, but he’s annoyingly prodigal (= wasteful). He’s basically Dice from HypMic at this stage (aka he’s the sort of person who’d bet away his own clothes, given the chance and incentive).

Look at the way Waver’s hair drags behind him as he walks…it’s gorgeous…

“Residual Image” (as translated in the title) is literally “the left-over image” (zanzou). Not surprising, but I find the exact combo of characters used interesting since it could be short for “nokoru eizou” (where the nokoru’s character is read as zan in the combo, as you can guess).    

Waver 12

Wow…this series really pulled something out of its butt this time, huh? “The guy without a heart”…no viewer would’ve known that actually referred to a character called Dr Heartless unless they knew of his existence somehow (the closest they would’ve been was having an inkling that this pointed to a name of the culprit).

There is an owl in the back of the auction room!

Ay? So what the heck is Pandemonium in this case?

“dotard” – Turns out this means “an old person, especially one who has become physically weak or whose mental faculties have declined.” You can’t say I don’t enrich my vocbulary through watching anime, huh?

I’m still wondering…why adapt case 7 of this series (Rail Zeppelin)? Why not case 1 (Adra)? Update: I don’t know where I pulled the number 7 from, since this is volume 4 – 5 of the series. Apparently some of the cases were anime-original though.

Waver 13 (FINAL)

Oh, Flat, you stupid…

Waver’s exasperated faces are great. No wonder Reines likes to toy with him…

I can assume Rail Zeppelin is a Ghost Liner, yes?

Can I guess that Adashino ~likes~ Waver…? Update: Turns out that’s not quite the case.

Ooh, Waver without his shirt is se-okay, I’m getting distracted. Seriously though, Waver never showed his Crest in F/Z. I never even knew what it looked like until now! The fact it’s such a simple design in comparison to his Command Seals is…kinda underwhelming, really.

I think there’s a bit of a pattern between Jakurai (from HypMic) and Waver…namely, they suck when it comes to drinking. (Also, of course, the long hair. Don’t forget it, never forget it.)

Shut up, Add!

For some reason, I felt like a lot of that last part, while getting closure for Waver, it almost had connotations of “I’ll meet you on the other side, Rider”…so it felt kind of sad, to be honest. That talk between Reines and Olga I don’t think I’d understand without Apocrypha and Grand Order, but I guess that’s to be expected in such a huge franchise. Anyways, moving right along!

Illya 1

I’ve been a bit worried about what I’ll have to subject myself to for the sake of Magical Girls…

Was that…Taiga?

Who’s Liz…?

Okusama, huh? (Okusama = someone’s wife, although it seems to be used in the plural here since I don’t think Kiritsugu and/or Iri are dead in this timeline.)

The subs I’ve got say Shiro is adopted here too (when it’s not in the Japanese), although I wonder exactly how much of UBW is going to be true in this anime…

Hmm…a bit of digging reveals Luvia’s not a Master. So throwing out Lancer is really just a joke on how Lancer gets roasted early on in Grail Wars, right?

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh…squick, much…(Thank goodness the source I was using edited out the loli fanservice, so I can tolerate this series a lot more…but still, suggesting you have a romance with your step-brother, even if it’s known you’re not related from the beginning, is…you already know my feelings on that, based on my reaction. Shiro is, what, 15? About twice Illya’s age!) Update: Okay, so he has no confirmed age in Prisma Illya, but he’s 17 in F/SN so I’d assum the same or similar, seeing as he attends the same school. It’s fine if it’s platonic, but this is clearly an Onii-chan, daisuki! thing the likes of which Oreimo throws down! Thank you for calling it out though, Ruby.

Oh my gosh, this looks like the Rhongomynaid (Detective Waver) and Excalibur (or whatever Saber’s Noble Phantasm is called) summoning beam! LOL!

Ruby, you lech! Don’t go praising the angles! *shakes fist* (Seriously, what if magical girl mascots were paedophiles…? *blank face* Welp, considering what’s out there on the internet, I wouldn’t be surprised if a hentai or something had such a concept.)

Hmm? Turns out the word for Servant means something like “celestial hero”. Makes sense.

Nice callback to Saber and Shiro!

Illya 2

I thought Illya would say that her parents are dead…turns out the show’s not that grimdark (to the point where it wouldn’t set the show after Kiritsugu and Iri’s deaths), huh?

Do the sticks have a gender? The subs said “she” for Ruby…

LOL, it’s Rider. I thought Lancer was gonna get his butt kicked all over again (thinking more along the lines of CCS).

It’s Gay Bul-I mean, Gae Bolg! (I’ve been reading TV Tropes again…can you tell?)

This episode was pretty pedestrian. I like it more than the first one.

What’s up with the CGI…?

Oh! Bunbun, who does Yuki Yuna! Update: They only did the illustrations for some of the series. They also did SAO illustrations, although that’s of less significance to me.

Illya 3

The sticks do have genders!!! That’s like claiming Jesus for kakera with Mudae! (Yes, that’s possible. I got him in one server.)

The power of fujoshi…is amazing! How did it get to a girl who’s so young?!

These angles are a bit disturbing…

“Casao”, LOL.

Magical girl nakama, huh?

Illya 4

MST3K mantra!

Whose quote is that again…? “Don’t think, imagine”? Update: It turns out to not be anyone’s quote at all, if Google results are to be believed.

Uh-oh! Saber Alter!

Illya 5

Padding the episode already…?

The mist is a quality of a Berserker, right?

Geez the angles piss me off…

These sticks have brains???

Can you call it teamwork if they’re always complaining about each other?

Illya 6

More padding…

Illya’s UBW!

Geesh, that last-minute shot of Rin and Luvia popping out of the ground scared me for a bit…

Illya 7

*sigh* It’s the sick episode…

I recognise the vacuum cleaner. I have the same one at home.

*sigh* Random fanservice of elementary school girls. This is what gives anime a bad name.

*Sapphire pulls out a USB port* - Ohhkay, is that stick fanservice, in a sense…? Because that’s awkward too.

Maids went out of fashion years ago…

“Lyrical Radical Genocide” - I think this Lyrical Radical things is parodying Nanoha.

Based on the cloak, it’s an Assassin.

“Listen, if you aren’t careful, you’ll die!” – Yep, because people die when they are killed. I almost missed that meme for a bit.

Illya 8

Illya’s still reeling from Miyu’s talk, huh?

I noticed it said tomoda(chi) in the background at one point.

Does Miyu exist in any of the alternate universes?

Ah, there’s yuujou (friendship) in the background as calligraphy.

I think the video got encoded funny again…

Geez, complaining about boobs? The series got worse…oh, I forgot Shiro was around in this series.

…who’s left? There’s been Saber, Archer, Lancer, Assassin, Rider, Caster and…who? Berserker, that’s who.

Illya 9

Ohhhhhhhh brother, not more bath scenes…

Iri looks almost exactly like she does in the Eiznbern Consultation Rooms! (I found those around and watched them today.)

Thank goodness the fanservice is censored…

I never realised Berseker had heterochromia until now…

One thing that I assume makes Saber’s outfit look nice to thos that like girls is the window in the top…but it goes to waste on Miyu, LOL.

I find it interesting Illya has all these concerns – the ones (or similar ones) Iri harbourd in F/Z.

Hey, the bridge! This is the bridge where Rider dies inn F/Z, yeah?

The ED looks different this time…  

Illya 10 (FINAL)

E-Eep…loli fanservice…

Now Miyu is basically what Waver is to Rider, no doubt about it.

Bulls***! Speak of the devil! I was wondering what Waver looked like in the Illya style, because I read on the wiki he makes a cameo in season 2, and…here he is. Didn’t expect him in season 1, though.

Another new ED animation. I find it interesting they’ve never once had to recast any VAs throughout the entire existence of Fate/ anime…not that I know of, anyway.

Hiroyama Hiroshi is the original Illya creator.

Okay, that’s the end of one season. I feel kind of fatigued since I finished the Eiznbern Consultation Rooms today as well, so I’m going to take a break from watching more Illya until it’s necessary to watch again in a few posts’ time.

Now that they’ve collected the cards, I’m wondering what the series intends to do next…

Illya s2 Pt 1 Ep 1

They clearly skimped on the budget when Shiro was leaving the house…

I keep forgetting Illya is meant to be German…

That bad English…is actually there in the ep. title…

Oh great…schoolgirls talking about erotic swimsuits…

This s*** is what you call “Class-S”! I have no interest in it, because I don’t swing that way! (Sorry, yuri fans…)

The problem with series that aren’t 100% made with you in mind is that your favourite characters might look ugly…that’s especially the case with En, Jakurai and Waver.

Ryudou Temple, eh? Let’s hope Assassin still looks good.

I don’t think I’ve seen that before…namely, being able to hear what’s going on outside the transformation while it’s happening.

Now this 2 Illyas thing…this is new, alright.

Illya s2 Pt 1 Ep 2

LOL, what a horoscope.

Truck-kun! I don’t think Illya would make a good isekai protag, come to think of it.

Who is this nurse? I feel like she’s from some other part of the Nasuverse… Update: My guess was right. That’s Caren Hortensia, protagonist of Fate/hollow ataraxia and Kirei’s…uh, daughter. I know he had a wife. We never met said wife, but seeing the daughter really drove that fact home.  

Uhhhhhhhh…okay, now the lesbian loli scene just made things go off a cliff for me. I’m not against lesbians or yuri – to each their own – but that scene was clearly meant to be pleasing to a certain audience.

How does anyone kill anything gently…?

Ohhhhhhkay, strike 2 for loli fanservice.

I seem to remember…that’s right, Alice from the [something] no Kuni no Alice series was evaluated on her coffee-making skills (by Julius, I think it was). That’s why I’m thinking of Alice when I see Luvia praising Miyu on something similar.

Wa-hey! It’s Rin’s Azoth dagger!

Well, the mechanics of the transformation are also something you have to think about. I’ll give the show kudos for that.  

Illya s2 Pt 1 Ep 3

Can we not with the whole “Onii-chan, daisuki!” thing?! That’s it! That’s the last straw! I’m finishing this episode and aborting early so that I can preserve my dignity…and get some proper sleep for once.

The fact Miyu thinks Shiro resembles her brother must not be a coincidence…(I’ve become far too Fate/ savvy, haven’t I?) Update: It seems I was right. Apparently, Miyu was taken in by Kiritsugu in a certain universe, but apparently this is a bunch of spoilers.

Genki na aisatsu was in the back.

This is just getting worse and worse…

So now Kuro’s name is Kuroe (Chloe), huh? Anyways, good riddance, loli fanservice! So long! I won’t miss you one bit!

[prettywordsyouleft]

Secret Santa

Genre: Christmas au / fluff

Characters: Lee Daehwi x reader

A/N: It’s time for another collaboration! For the 12 days leading up to Christmas, Ashley over @goodnightkisseu, Kim at @nothingwithoutwannaone and I will be posting stories every day leading up to Christmas Day itself!

Word count: 1325

Mistletoe | Santa’s Helper | Christmas Carols | Ice Blades | Snow Angel | Santa, Baby! | Gingerbread Cookies | Secret Santa | Giftwrap | First Snow | Silver Bells | It’s Christmas

He didn’t know what to get you.

Of all the people to draw out of the hat for Secret Santa, Daehwi had sat there hoping he wouldn’t get you. Of course, he pulled out the slip of paper that said your name and was still stuck on what to buy you.

It wasn’t that Daehwi didn’t like you. That was the problem, he really liked you. And that’s why he didn’t want to buy your Secret Santa gift because he liked you so much that he wanted to buy you something perfect without letting on about how he felt about you.

At first, he decided to get you a book. After all, he always saw you around campus with your nose in one, and he thought it would be a perfect gift. Except there were so many genres to pick from! If he got you something action based, would that be too much? Something softer and playful might work too. The longer he stood in front of the rows of books, the easier it became to doubt the purchase. Especially with how many he had picked up that had some sort of romantic love story involved.

Would you think your Secret Santa wanted you to have a love interest with them? Would this make you uncomfortable? He shook his head and quickly placed down the novel he held. He wouldn’t give you a story for Christmas.

It was the same for music; he couldn’t find a group he knew you liked without finding glaringly obvious love confessions in at least one of the songs. He knew that most musicians sang about love as a topic and it was so generalised that you wouldn’t bat an eyelid. But what if you considered it? He couldn’t take the risk.

Daehwi exhausted his options over the next week. Everything he came up with somehow he would relate it to being some kind of confession. A mug with a cat on it? Not safe, it would insinuate he wanted to share a drink with you. Chocolates? Isn’t that what you received from loved ones? Even though he knew you had a sweet tooth, he couldn’t gift you those.

For someone normally so level-headed, Daehwi felt like a flustered mess over a simple present. How this had become something more than that to him, he wasn’t quite sure, but it bothered him that he couldn’t just pick something up without attaching his feelings to it.

And so he turned to his best friend Somi, desperate for some advice to help him find the perfect gift for you. Glancing up at him from the magazine she was reading, Somi frowned after his spiel. Had he rushed it? He was breathing hard from the exertion of explaining his predicament and he felt hot all of a sudden. Despite it being the start of winter, he moved to the window of his dorm room and pushed it open.

“You’re over-thinking this.”

Daehwi let out a bitter scoff and nodded. “You don’t say! So, what should I get her?”

“You won’t buy books, music, movies or cute knick-knacks. And chocolate or food is off the cards?” He nodded earnestly and sat down beside her, waiting for her help to begin. “What about a flower?”

“Flowers?!” he repeated and Somi shook her head firmly.

“No, as in an actual plant, one she has to look after and grow. Maybe a cute cactus? That’s low maintenance in case she doesn’t have a green thumb.”

“Nothing says let’s grow together like giving your crush a plant!”

“Why are you being so uptight about this? Just tell her how you feel then!”

“I can’t.”

Somi groaned. “You can’t or you won’t because you’re scared Y/N will reject you? You’re a great guy, Hwi. I don’t understand why it’s so hard for you to buy a present. Not everything has to be perfect in courting someone. I mean, anything is better than receiving a gift voucher. At least even with a mug, you actually put some thought into it.”

“That’s it!” Daehwi cried and Somi nodded happily. He dismissed her response and shook her lower arm lightly. “You’re a genius; nothing can be insinuated with a gift voucher!”

“Daehwi, do not buy her a voucher! It shows how little you care about someone or how little you know about them. From what you told me you know enough to buy her a lot of things. You’re just being stupid-”

“It’s perfect!”

As the gifts were exchanged around the room, Daehwi watched you in anticipation to see your reaction. Would you be upset to receive something impersonal like Somi insisted? Should he have gotten you something comical and unattached of feelings instead? He barely realised his gift was handed to him as he watched you, a small smile crossing your lips as you looked inside your envelope.

It was then that he realised he only had an envelope too and he glanced at the handwriting on the front, blinking once when he recognised who it belonged to.

You had drawn his name too?

As he opened the envelope, he couldn’t help but grin. It was a gift voucher from the same generic store he had gone to. Had you struggled to figure what to buy him as well? Although you both knew each other, it wasn’t on a deep level or anything. He could understand you not knowing what to buy him. He felt at ease knowing you had essentially swapped the same gifts with each other. All that panic over the last couple of weeks had been pointless.

And Somi was wrong; you looked pretty pleased with what you had gotten.

The group of performance students all started to mingle around the Christmas party for your campus club, and Daehwi soon noticed you were walking towards him, holding your envelope up in the air.

“Thank you,” you mentioned and he chuckled.

“Likewise.”

“We should have tried to disguise our handwriting,” you said with a giggle and then looked down at your shoes for a moment. When you looked up at him, you were chewing on your lip. “Did you struggle too?”

“I uh, didn’t want my gift to confuse you.”

You blinked and then nodded. “I guess it was the same for me. I had a lot of ideas but I just didn’t know which to get you. A friend said a gift voucher is too impersonal yet it was the only thing I thought would be right.”

“A friend said the same to me, you’re not offended?”

You shook your head and smiled shyly. “Of course not! I actually like it. Especially since we got each other, Daehwi. Maybe this was a good sign because we can go spend them at the same store.”

Were you suggesting you both leave and go cash in the vouchers together? As in, like a date? Daehwi was grinning and nodding his head before he thought too far ahead. He’d done enough of that already.

“Should we go and do that now? Maybe have a coffee afterwards?”

It was your turn to nod happily whilst he finished up talking and you both went to grab your coats, Daehwi holding the door to the clubroom open so you could exit first. And then his hand naturally grabbed onto yours before he thought about it, and you didn’t let go.

Had it always been this easy around you or was his brain finally letting up on the incessant thoughts and allowing him to act out how he wanted to be around you? Whatever it was, it made his heart soar the longer he held your hand, swinging it lightly as you both walked along. This relaxed motion made you look at him and you shared a smile before stepping into an elevator together. Once the doors were shut you nudged him lightly.

“I’m really glad you’re my Secret Santa this year, Daehwi.”

“Me too.”

_________________

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[fly-pow-bye]

Powerpuff Girls 2016 - “Brain Freeze”

Written by: Haley Mancini

Written & Storyboarded by: John West, Angela Zhang

Directed by: Nick Jennings, Bob Boyle

An actual one may be preferable to this.

Gold is probably the last thing I think of when I think of the reboot, but that's how this episode starts, anyway. Specifically, it's a field trip to a golden train filled with various golden things named "Fort Knox On Tour." Unfortunately, despite being called Fort Knox, it isn't anything "like Fort Knox", as there's no real security here.

After touring around that train to make any joke they can think of involving gold, including this line that sadly hints at what level of intelligence Blossom is going to be at in this episode:

Blossom: It says here that each gold bar is worth its weight in gold!

No, really?! Anyway, the class gets to have a picnic with their bagged lunches. As soon as the Reboot Puffs open their bags, a monster comes out of it.

That is, Sitcom Dad, showing up via pink hologram. He tells the girls about how much they overdo it on the sugary snacks. He specifically tells them to not buy any candy with their pocket change, and that they should enjoy the healthy food he packed for them.

They tell themselves that it can't possibly be that bad, until they take a good look at them.

Broccoli, turnips, and a block of tofu. They all act disgusted at this. Even Blossom refuses to touch that strange bean curd. One would think she would be the one expressing the virtues of healthy eating. At least she's not the annoying one in this episode, at least not for that reason.

The Powerpuff Girls might actually eat healthy food for once instead of all that ice cream, and someone has to save them from this predicament!

Enter Moo-Joo Moo Moo, with his new brand of ice cream! The Powerpuff Girls can't possibly fall for this, and sure enough, Blossom has to tell the girls not to jump at this opportunity. Oh, not because she clearly recognizes this overly-large-headed ape handing out ice cream, but because the Professor didn't want the girls to spend their pocket change on sweets!

Moo-Joo Moo Moo: It's free!

The Three Maroons: LOOPHOLE!

Yes, even Blossom exclaims excitement over disobeying her dad. That ice cream must be that tempting! Bubbles then feels like this guy is familiar, but Moo-Moo reassures her that he's only familiar because Moo-Moo's head is on every cone! At this point, why not just have him say "because I'm not Mojo Jojo"? Might as well make us suspend all of our disbelief.

Either that reasoning worked or they just really want that ice cream no matter who gives it to them, as the Powerpuff Girls get their free cone. They take their first lick, thinking about how to thank this random stranger for giving them sweets that will not give them the worst brain-and-everything-else freeze ever.

Sure enough, that ice cream gives them the worst brain-and-everything-else freeze ever, as they immediately freeze and drop to the ground. This strange man offering the Powerpuff Girls sweets reveals himself as Discount Jojo.

Everyone else in the vicinity was also taken in by this stranger offering ice cream, so he's able to do what he wanted to do: steal that train full of gold. As said before, we never really see any security. There is the train conductor, but it turns out, he was enamored by all the ice cream, too.

So enamored, Jojo is able to throw him out of the screen to the ground, causing a glass shattering sound effect! Seriously, Jojo just murdered someone on-camera, who said this reboot was toning down the violence?

Eventually, the Powerpuff Girls break out of the ice, realize what's happening, and chase after the train. Unfortunately, they're still holding that ice cream, and they just can't resist taking another lick from it.

See, the ice cream also happens to be formulated with something highly addictive. No, really, that's what Blossom says; one can make their own conclusion on what exactly it is. Buttercup just says its chocolate chip cookie dough, even though she's constantly holding a chocolate ice cream.

The ice cream is so addicting, that the Powerpuff Girls just can't help but take a lick every few seconds. Blossom does manage to slap it out of Buttercup’s hands at one point, but in the next scene, she just pulls it out without any explanation. To be fair, that's the only time that happens, and they do show that Discount Jojo was busy making tons of ice cream vending machines.

At least, I think that's what these are, as they only really show up in one scene. Maybe if the Reboot Puffs chose that one that says ooJ-ooM ooM ooM, they'll get the antidote to that highly addictive material.

The girls desperately try to smash Discount's face in, while Discount Jojo is relaxing on the hood of the train knowing fully well they're just going to stop in mid-air, lick the ice cream, and freeze themselves. It's just the same scene over and over again; it barely even counts as a montage.

After effortlessly escaping, what is he going to do with all of that gold from that train? He apparently already had enough money for those vending machines, so it's not like he needs the money.

Make a giant solid gold wrecking ball on what looks like a water tower to destroy Townsville once and for all! Seems like it would only level the area around this wrecking ball, but what do I know, I'm not an ice cream inventor.

But, uh oh, there's a giant kink in the cable which, for reasons the plot needed to work with, causes the computer controlling the wrecking ball to not budge until it gets fixed. Jojo tries, but he ends up getting tied up in the cable.

Since the error has been corrected, the wrecking ball swings him around town. Essentially, this is just the wrecking ball joke from The Simpsons Movie, except they have to have him say something along the lines of "oh no, the knives factory!" The comic timing is practically non-existent here.

Discount Jojo: Oh, thank goodness, the pillow factory!

This will be a complete shock to everyone: he's not going to hit the pillow factory. In fact, I knew right when this gag started that he was going to joke about a pillow factory and miss it. Instead, he hits the broken glass factory, after talking about how he's going to hit the broken glass factory. After that, he asks why it even exists. See, our ideas are so absurd, laugh, damn it!

As the Powerpuff Girls take a very long time to get to Townsville due to those aforementioned vending machines/R2D2s, they take another lick from the ice cream and, while frozen, they get hit by the wrecking ball. It tends to happen even when they're not frozen.

After seeing Discount Jojo cry about how he didn't want this to happen and that he needs help while being swung around, they come to the conclusion that Discount Jojo is tearing up the town, and they must stop him. To be fair to the Puffs, they're not entirely wrong. Their first course of action is to, in Blossom's words...

Blossom: RESIIIIIST.

Giving this episode some semblance of credit, they don't really do any of those off-model weird faces in this episode. I mean, this face is certainly more eye pleasing than those faces from Buttercup vs. Math. Unfortunately, resistance turns out to be futile. They try to drop the ice cream, but they can't, even though they did smack it off each other's hands earlier in the episode. They then try to hold it but not lick it, because that worked the last fifty times they tried that. Of course, that doesn't work either.

Eventually, Blossom figures out that the only way to break the habit is to stop thinking about it. While staring at this swinging ball on a pole, Blossom sees a similarity between this and another childhood sport that could easily distract her from that strange ice cream.

That is, tetherball. We even get a history of tetherball! It's just like one of those scenes from Teen Titans Go where they ramble on about the history of something, minus any attempted humor. They even have this diagram show up, but there's only scribbles here. I get that they didn't want jokes that wouldn't translate to other languages, as they never do this for the visuals, but it feels like a missed opportunity.

Using this knowledge, Blossom is able to RESIIIIIIST the ice cream and hit the golden wrecking ball as if it was a tetherball. And yes, I wasn't kidding about this reboot not wanting to have tetherballs hit on camera, as each hit is covered up with a hit flash. Sure, Discount Jojo is tied to it, but it's not like he's being directly hit by them. What's even worse is that these hit flash seem to last a whole second and are completely still this time. It is like those accursed Nike swooshes from Season 1 with even less effort!

While Blossom and Buttercup are perfectly distracted by tetherball, Bubbles needs to have a little more convincing. I guess the other side effect of the addictive ingredient is that it turns you into a reptile. Just ask that one drug dealer from that one PSA. Yesssssss!

Their solution: make up a song about a bunny that can only be sung while playing tetherball! No, not that Bunny. Blossom and Buttercup begin while continuing their bashing of this clearly-in-peril-though-it-was-caused-by-his-own-evil-intentions Discount Jojo.

Okay, so they can hit the tetherball on camera if they're singing a song about bunnies. Wow, this censorship is weird. This song just sounds like they're just making it up as they go along...which is exactly what's happening, so good job! Eventually, Bubbles comes in just to save Buttercup from coming up with something that rhymes with "say".

They hit the tetherball so hard that it spins all the way around, causing the whole mechanism to fall apart. Seems like a cruel punishment, but he did outright murder that train conductor, so it's okay. All that tetherballing made the girls hungry, and Blossom suggests they eat those healthy lunches. A few seconds of thinking, and they all decide that's a bad idea, even Blossom. Who can save them from this predicament?

Turns out, having an entire wrecking ball mechanism fall right on top of you does not even give Discount a scratch. Even if those hit flashes didn't exist, the impact the Reboot Puffs had is just completely erased by this ending.

He even repeats the same exact idea with the same exact name, except with chocolate rather than ice cream. No, really, the episode ends with the Powerpuff Girls saying "hmmm" to this, so we can assume he even succeeds, too! As the Powerpuff Girls say, always accept candy from strangers, especially strangers that gave you addictive-ingredient-laced ice cream! What a great message for the kids.

Does the title fit?

They're getting frozen by this ice cream. Not much brains in this one, though it's possible that was supposed to be a reference to Discount Jojo being the villain here. Hmm.

How does it stack up?

I just couldn't find anything to like about this episode, and trust me, I look for any sign of quality in these. It's slow, monotonous, and there's so much wasted time here that ruins any bit of comedy they could have had. Just give me the tofu.

Next, ignorance would be bliss, but instead, I get to do the exact opposite to Bliss.

← Oh, Daisy! ☆ Lights Out! →

[friendlyneighborhoodborg]

Marc Appreciation Week 2019| Day 6: Collab| “Working Together”

Okay, this is actually late.  It is past midnight, technically Day 7.

I am actually posting Day 7 later today, hopefully before the week is out.

Anyway here’s the 6th day, and the only chapter in the dumpster fire to actually follow the prompt given.

Disclaimers were in Day 1.

Chapters:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7

AO3 Link

(~3200 biddling words.  Why do I do this to myself?)

           Marc didn’t know what he was.  Today was weird: he didn’t feel girly anymore after last night, but at the same time he didn’t think the “he” suited him today.  He realized this must have been what Alix was talking about before, about non-binary gender.

           Being something that wasn’t a boy or a girl was trippy.  Marc had felt it before, probably, but knowing what it was (which felt obvious now, considering… well, everything he was currently feeling) made it… something.  For all the words he knew, he couldn’t peg one for the experience.

           It occurred that he ought to have been surprised by how quickly he had taken to reconsidering his pronouns.  But then, that’s what his gender did, didn’t it?  Didn’t he always know that his gender did that?  Hadn’t that been such a large source of his anxiety for years?

          And now he was just rolling with it.

          That morning, he had glanced at himself in a mirror, per his usual routine.  His old adjectives, “Not him again” and “Could be worse” were absent this time.  Instead, he had felt heavy.  Overdressed, perhaps, only in his own skin.

          But he could live with that.

          It still stank, because French didn’t have a third-gender pronoun.  That meant that, regardless of his actual self, he had to use male pronouns.

          So, he comfortably got dressed, did up his face in a way he thought would suit him, and left for school.

          Something was different that afternoon.  Alix wasn’t in for some reason, which automatically meant the art teacher (he still kept forgetting his name) was more relaxed.  Juleka and Rose were separated, for once.  Rose was sitting in a corner, feverishly scribbling down notes in her pad.  Juleka was in the opposite corner, reading a horror novel, and her ankle was shackled to a protruding pipe.

          He approached Juleka cautiously, eyeing her restraints warily. “Did, uh…” He glanced up at the teacher, making sure he wasn’t listening.  “Did Alix tell you?”

          “Yeah, she got your text.”  Juleka glanced up meaningfully at her girlfriend, by herself in the corner. “Lucky someone in this club has their head on straight.”

          Marc chuckled.  “I don’t know if we can say that, there’s like one straight person in this club.”

          Juleka smiled for a second, then went back to reading her book. “And where was she, huh?  Crazy overworked, fixing up stuff our last class rep neglected.  Notice she couldn’t drop by all week?”  She calmly flipped the page she was on.  “Once again, Chloé got us into another fine mess that Marinette’s gotta pull us out of.  Again.”

          “What?” said Marc.  “No, I meant… wait, Marinette’s straight?”

          The musician shrugged.  “So she claims.  It is impolite to assume.”  As normal, her expression and tone betrayed little.

          “Biggest shock of my week,” was Marc’s jested reply.  “But I was talking about Nathaniel.”

          “Hm?  Oh yeah.” She pulled up one hand to do finger-quotes.  “‘Straight.’  That’s definitely an adjective that can describe him.  Marc, have you seen the way he draws Chat Noir?”

          “Of course, what about it?”

          “Well, maybe you’re both blinded by the superhero’s skintight leather, but the boy is not that ripped.”

          Rose hummed loudly.  Juleka glanced up at her.

          “I’m not trying to push anything, unlike some people,” she protested.  “I’m merely pointing out that he should have already noticed by now, in a manner he will not pick up on for purposes of dramatic irony.”

          “What’s going on?” he asked. “And what’s with you two?”  He looked at the chain.  “And… that?”

          “She’s on probation,” explained Juleka.  “Until she realizes what she did was wrong.”

          “Probation of what?”

          “Getting to run my hands through that soft, dark hair,” Rose replied for her, rubbing her fingers over the pages of her lyrics.  “Holding her close to me, closing my eyes and breathing in her clove-scented perfume.  Feeling the warmth of a heart matched beat-for-beat with mine.”

          Marc looked back at Juleka.  She was nose-deep in her book, but her forehead was sweating, her knuckles were white, and she refused to look anywhere near where Rose was sitting.

          “Is that why you’ve chained yourself to this pipe?”

          Juleka whimpered a little before answering.  “It’s funny, in a tragic sort of way.”

          “So, what’s holding Rose back?”

          “Pity, mostly.”

          “This isn’t about the makeup thing, is it?” questioned the writer.  “I don’t blame Rose for anything that happened.  I mean, it worked out, sort of.”

          “Yeah, no thanks to me,” sniffed the poet. “If I’d have known…”

          “Hey.”  He approached her and offered his hand.  “Hindsight is 20/20.”

          “Still.”  She rubbed the brimming tears from her eyes.  “I was such an idiot, and you had to go through all of that because of me.”

          “You’re still the first one who listened.  Let’s be honest, that could have gone a lot worse.”

          “I overreacted.”  She looked down and continued to write, though it was mostly an excuse to avoid Marc’s eyes. “I thought I knew what was happening, and I thought I could help.  I was wrong to try and do it by myself without seeing a second opinion.”  Sniffing, she closed the notebook.  “I’m sorry.”

          “Oh…” groaned Juleka.  “So close, Rose.  Come on, I know you can do it.”

          “Do what?”

          “We aren’t be allowed to touch each other until she figures out exactly where she went wrong.  She’s got most of it, but I’m not allowed to tell her the last one.”

          “Okay, but why are you doing,” he gestured wildly at both girls, “this?”

          “Because I don’t have the key and Rose is really trying, bless her.”

          He looked between the two of them a few times, both of them equally miserable.  “I get the feeling this wasn’t your guys’ arrangement.”

          “It was Alix’s,” admitted Juleka.  “We both went along with it.  The chain was my idea, though.  It’s the cruelest and most elaborate punishment ever devised, who do you think dreamt it up?”

          “I mean,” Marc disputed, “I wouldn’t have pegged her specifically.”  Particularly not after their little heart-to-heart yesterday.

          “Never tick off someone with a small body-mass-to-temper ratio,” Rose advised.  “Especially if everyone in her family is an ancient history buff.”

          “What’s that got to—”

          “Look, she knows a little something about torture.”

          “Ah,” Marc commented, thoroughly confused and only pretending to understand.  “You two look like you’re busy, I’ll leave you to it.”

          He quietly took his seat at the back of the room, leaving the two to sort out their issues in peace.

           All things considered, life was pretty good.

          So why was Marc still feeling so anxious?

          Nathaniel crept in through the door with his head down, answering the question.

           “Nathaniel,” Juleka said.  “Unlock me.  I need to go use the bathroom.”

           “Sure thing.”  Nath approached her, holding something else up.  “Brought your headphones, too, you left them in class.”

           “It won’t work.  She’s stuck in my head.”

Rose cast a saddened, dramatic gaze towards the writer in the back. “Pray you don’t become like us, Marc.”

           Marc blushed.  Of course Rose figured it out.  She probably told Juleka, too.

           Yet another thing to watch out for.

           ‘Wait, so is Nathaniel straight or not?’

           Nathaniel joined him at their usual table once Juleka had been freed.  “Hey.”

           “You know,” Marc bet, “one has to wonder if that’s some sort of metaphor for something.”

           The artist burst out laughing, but quickly shut himself up when he realized he was making noise.  “Yeah,” he confessed.  “Probably. But they’re good for each other. Rose helps Juleka’s self-esteem, Juleka keeps Rose grounded.”

           “Yeah.  They really are kinda fun to write.  Speaking of…”

           “Right!  Back to work.”

           “If we end off our comic there, Rose is never going to forgive us.”

           “I know,” expressed Nathaniel, glancing over at the person in question.  She was the only other student who hadn’t gone home yet.  Volume up high in her earbuds, she wasn’t even looking at them. “But this story is way too interesting for one issue.  With a cliffhanger like that, she’ll keep breathing down our necks to make more.”  He blushed, realizing he had gotten ahead of himself.  “I mean, if you’re okay with… I’ve really liked working with you and I want to—”

           “Yes!” Marc blurted with a blush of his own.  “I mean, um, yes.  I would… I would love to keep working with you.”

           “Okay.”  He turned his attention back to the work.  “So, if we end the issue with Princess Fragrance’s reveal, then that’s going to take a full-page panel.”  He drew a border inside another blank page.  “Right, so we’ve got that planned out.  Now to just get cracking on those last few pages.”  He surveyed the pages of blank boxes in front of him, each with a little note of what went in each.  “And we know what has to be said at each bit, so if you want to edit specific dialogue, now’s the time to do that.”

           “Cool.  I’ll get on top of that.”

           Marc’s brain suddenly took a dive, and he hastily tried to delete the previous sentence from his brain.

           Each of them had the plans for everything, so they didn’t see a reason to talk much, a silence Marc respected even if he himself wasn’t comfortable with it.  If it made Nathaniel more comfortable, he could swing that.

           His brain needed to stop it immediately with the double-entendres.

           The two of them worked for another few minutes, with only the sound of their pens scratching their paper.

           Nathan, surprisingly, was the one who broke the silence.  “So… last night you were a girl.”

           Marc exhaled nervously.  He wasn’t wrong, but it still felt weird to acknowledge the elephant in the room.  “Uh, yeah.”

           “Earlier yesterday you were a boy.”

           “Yep.”

           “So…”  Nath bit his lip, which Marc had to avert his gaze from.  “I don’t want to just assume, in case I get it wrong.  What are you now?”

           Marc had been stewing this over while he worked. Truth be told, he found he didn’t actually care as much today.  He knew he wasn’t a boy, and he wasn’t a girl, but… he wasn’t really much of anything else either.

           “I don’t think I’m anything right now.”

           “Really?”

          “Nothing, right now.”  He shrugged.  “I’m just… nothing.”

          “How does that work?”

          “Search me.”  He shrugged once again.  “I don’t have much of a gender today, I guess.”

          “So…” Nathaniel paused.  “It’s like there’s no… asterisks.”

          “Asterisks?”

          Nath winced.  “Sorry. I was trying to be poetic, y’know, like you?  You have this great, flowing… your words are just, they click.  Does that make sense?  It probably doesn’t make sense, forget I said anything.”

          Marc smiled at the compliment, going back to his journal.  “They’re just words.”

          “They’re not, though, alright?” he declared.  “They’re not just words, they’re you! The way you get words to line up, only you can do it that way.  You’re so… smart, and creative, and… your writing style is just great.”

          “Th-thanks.”

          “I mean that.”  Nathan looked away, holding his arm sheepishly.  “You’re great, you’re really…”  He shut his eyes.  “Forget it.”

           Marc blinked.  “What was that?”

           “Never mind.  Where you at?  Panel 9-g, the security guard is revealed to be possessed, Ghostlight comes out, and we need a good, punchy line to start the fight with.”

           “No…”  Marc closed his journal.  “This can wait.  What were you going to say?”

           “Nothing important.”

           “I doubt that.”  He reached over the table and took his hand.  “Nath, whatever it is, it’s important.  You want to say it, say it.”

           Nathaniel blushed.  His mouth opened and closed, flopping like a fish, and he started to sweat.

           Marc looked down and realized oh wait, he was actually holding Nath’s hand.  He instantly let go, which seemed to shock Nath back into coherency.

           “I can’t,” he told him.

           “You can’t?”

           “No,” he restated.  “I’ll just mess it up, just forget it.”

           “I’ll listen.”  This gave the author pause.  “I’ve been keeping up with you for the last week.  I’ll understand what you’re trying to say.”

           His face had determination etched into it. He opened his mouth and began.

           “Oh!” Rose said suddenly, breaking his momentum. “Look at the time, I have to… go make an excuse.”  She scooched off of her seat and sashayed out the door.  “I’ll leave you two alone,” she called back, leaving the door ajar.

           Both collaborators stared after her.  The art teacher glanced in her direction, then he, too, left the room.

Nathaniel and Marc were alone.  Nathan, only a little deterred, summoned back what little courage he had left.

“You…”  He stopped. “You’re my friend, right Marc?”

           “Yeah,” was the immediate, nodding answer.  “I hope so, anyway.”

           “And… I’m your friend, right?”

           “Of course.”

           “You… you’re so much of a better person than I am.” The boy gulped.  “No matter… who you are.  And today, it’s like… I’m so glad I get to see you happy.”

          “Uh…”  Marc nodded again in appreciation. “Thanks.”

          “I mean, look at you, you’re happier, even if you’re still the same person who’s come in to help me with this stupid thing—”

          “Nathan, it’s not stupid—”

          “It is, though, and sometimes it feels like we’re the only people here who care about it.  Only now you’ve changed, and you’re so much more relaxed now, and… And it’s good for you, right?  You get to be so much more confident.  Like just now, when you said you had no gender, you said it and you were sure.”

          “I’m still not really sure.”

          “You sounded sure, and that’s better than I can do.  With pretty much anything.  I’m not strong or witty, but you are. There’s just so many little things, here and there, and I can’t concentrate right.  There’s just so many things about—”

          The sudden halt from the speed at which Nathaniel had been talking gave Marc whiplash.

          Marc looked at him, expecting him to finish what he was saying.

          “I can’t…” he mumbled.   “Just… that’s it, then.  I don’t know how I was going to end that.”

          “You feeling okay, Nathan?” queried Marc.  “I don’t think I’ve heard you talk so much in one go.”

          “It’s…nothing.”  Nath took a deep breath.  “I’ve been trying to… think of things I wanted to say—”  He got out of his seat, turning away.  “Never mind, it’s stupid.”

          “No,” Marc stated, standing up behind him.  “You’re not.  If you need to say something, just say it.”

          “I think—”

          “Go on.”

          “I think you’re—” Nathaniel swallowed his tongue and hunched over, covering his mouth.

          “Nath!”  Marc rushed to his aid.  “Breathe slowly, okay?  Are you alright?  You look like you’re going to puke.”

          “I didn’t say anything, just…”  Nath’s voice broke.  “Please, just drop it, I don’t wanna…”

          Marc couldn’t believe it.  Nathaniel, whose creativity knew no bounds, was censoring himself.

          That could not happen.

          And Marc needed to know.

          “What if I don’t want to drop it?”

           “Marc, please…”

           “What if I don’t want you to be afraid to talk to me? What would you say if you could talk to me?”  He looked into his icy-blue eyes, piercing through with his warmth.  “What if you were about to say what I thought you were going to say?  What if it’s that important that I hear how that sentence was going to end?”  He snatched Nath’s hands from where they had covered his mouth and cradled them in his own. “And what if, by some miracle, I cared about how you felt and what you thought?”

           Nath stared back at him, and both of them reeled from the shock of Marc’s outburst.

           Then Nathaniel slowly started shaking his head.

           “Don’t do this… don’t do that to me,” he murmured. “Stop doing that, you’re going to just regret it.”

           Marc tightened his grip.  “Just say what you wanted to.  Stop putting up all these filters in your head.”  He grasped at something.  “Do the thing about the asterisks.  What did you mean by that?”

          Nath took a deep breath and tried.  “Well… right now, you’re… no gender.  No asterisks.  No added stress.  You’re just… Marc.  Pure Marc.” He scowled.  “I mean… that’s not good, is it, that’s not clever.  Cause you’re not just genderless, are you?”  He wrenched his hands from Marc’s ironclad grip. “Look, you could be a girl and I���d… you’d still be you.  Same for if you end up a boy.  You just get to be you.  And… I like it when you’re you.”  He stopped, looking to Marc for criticism.

           After a moment, Marc smiled warmly.  “That was pretty poetic.”

           “Y-you do it so much better than me.”

           They both smiled.

           “C-can I—” Nath gulped, shutting himself down.

           “What?”

           “N-nothing.”  He shook where he stood.  “Forget it.”

           “No chance.”  Marc wasn’t sure where this courage was coming from, but he didn’t shake it away.  “You don’t have to filter yourself.  I won’t judge anything you say from here on out, you hear me?  It’s the least I can do for what you and Alix have done for me.”

           Nathaniel drew closer suddenly, his hand touched Marc’s cheek, and their lips barely touched.  For a single half-second, their lips brushed against one another, and then Nathan drew back like Marc was a burning stove.

           Both creators were left in a state of shock.

           “Oh… my… God.”  Marc gaped.  “You…”

           “Cute,” Nathaniel muttered.  “I was gonna say cute.  Before.”  He looked down.  “I’m… sorry, I’ll just…”  He made his way to his bag, tripped on a chair, and started to bolt for the door.

           Seeing Nathan start to panic and run away triggered something in him.  He suddenly found a good reason to raise his voice.

           Nathaniel had given him strength.  Now he had to return the favor.

           “Hey, get back here!” Marc called out, and the artist stopped. “I’ve had a crush on you for over a full month now.  You get a do-over.”  Marc surged forward, turned him back around, and kissed him again, this time much more solidly.

           A few seconds passed and they separated.  “You have a crush on me?” Nath said, confused.

           Marc laughed a little at his expense.  “There were times, even just this week, where something you did just completely killed me, stone dead.”

           Nath blinked.  “Do you want to go out sometime?”

          “You see, this is what I’m talking about.”  He pulled him close and hugged him tightly.  “Son of a gun, yes, but don’t give me heart attacks like that.”

          Nath’s arms awkwardly returned the embrace.  “I, uh… I’ve never had a… an actual date before. What’s the, uhm… protocol, here?”

           “Are you serious?”

           “Half-serious.”

           “Well don’t worry.  It’ll be a learning experience for the both of us.”

           We have always belonged together!

           Nathaniel tore away from the embrace, turning sharply towards the door.  “Rose, what the hell!?”

           The little pink devil held the phone up high, volume turned all the way up.  We will always belong together!  Just keep moving on!

           “Sorry,” Rose giggled.  “My hand slipped.”

           The collaborators looked at each other.  Nodding a silent agreement, they chased after Rose together.

Okay.  I don’t have much else to say right now, so... *shuffles away*.

[noelacciari]

Mission: Climb The Ranks

guess what I added on to that Castle AU like a year later so yeah

Relationship: Nursey/Dex

Tags: Castle AU, author nursey, detective dex,K-I-S-S-I-N-G

Read Nurse Series on AO3 | Part 1 On Tumblr 

6 Months Earlier

“Let me get this straight.”

Derek bites back the ‘good luck with that’ that’s on the tip of his tongue, forcing himself to remember that Lardo isn’t a free spirited art major anymore. No, she’s a sergeant in the NYPD who carries a gun and probably would not hesitate to shoot his toe or something to prove a point.

“You are working on a new series, and instead of just doing research like a normal fucking person, you want to shadow one of my detectives?” Lardo rubs at her temple, giving Derek a look like she’s totally over his bull shit.

“This detective,” Derek clarifies, tapping the newspaper article sitting between them on Lardo’s desk. “He’s the one.”

“Derek…” Lardo squints at him, her mouth tilting up in a sideways smirk. “I’m not going to burden my best detective with your distracting ass if this is just about your thing for gingers in uniform.”

Derek lets out an undignified squawk of protest. “This is serious Lards!” He yelps, throwing his hands up in the air. “I want this series to have that grit to them, that real life feel, and I can’t do that without being immersed in a case!”

They stare at each other for a tense moment, Lardo’s dark brown eyes undoubtedly trying to set him on fire or something terrible. He’s not being dramatic okay, Larissa Duan can be fucking scary when she wants to be.

“Fine.” Lardo reaches for her desk phone, pressing a few buttons and cradling the phone between her ear and shoulder. Derek can hear the tinny sound of a greeting on the other end. “Poindexter,” Lardo snaps in her I’m In Charge voice. “Can you come on in to my office, I have an assignment for you.” She hangs up before the voice on the other end can even respond.

A silence descends over the office, and Derek can’t help but start to get jittery. Because the thing is… the thing is that he was being truthful with Lardo, he definitely needs this, and Poindexter’s the best detective in the City, but like also… he’s hot as fuck. So like, Derek might be a little bit nervous about this, is all. After another moment he jumps up out of his chair, pacing around for a few seconds before settling awkwardly on the corner of Lardo’s desk.

“What the fuck, Nursey?” She whispers, but Derek isn’t about to look at her. He’s focusing deeply on maintaining that cool, collected, charming exterior he’s perfected over the years, ever since his publisher insisted on putting his photo on the book jacket for Blood on the Beach. Luckily a knock on the door interrupts any further harassment from Lardo. And then the door swings open, and Derek realizes that this was a terrible, terrible idea.

Present Day

Derek sighs and rolls over for what feels like the hundredth time in half an hour. This was probably all part of Shay’s plan to make his life miserable. Or well, she’s not doing it in a malicious way, she undoubtedly thinks it’s for his own good, but god dammit this is fucking torture.

He can still see it clearly in his mind, the first time he saw Dex in the flesh. It was like some kind of wet dream, Dex’s hair slightly damp, his stiff blue button up shirt hanging open to reveal a thin white undershirt beneath. That white fabric was tight and translucent and Derek swore he could see the outline of Dex’s pecs from across the room. Dex had darted a glance at him, eyes widening just barely, a slight flush rising on his cheeks, and Derek had kind of wanted to die. Dex said something about coming back from the gym to Lardo, but all Derek could think about was how he wanted to get his mouth all over that.

And now, thanks to his evil ex-wife, he has gotten his mouth all up on that. Or well, they’ve kissed, twice. And the second kiss was definitely not something he would be forgetting about soon. He knew the fake boyfriends thing was a terrible idea, but Derek has never claimed to have good ideas, especially when it comes to pretty boys.

Closing his eyes, he breathes in deeply, starting to count down from one hundred. He makes it all the way to seventy five before the numbers in his head are replaced with the image of Angela pouncing on Dex, giggling as Dex fakes his own death with over the top dramatics. Dex is laughing too, his chin tilted back and his eyes sparkling, and Derek’s stomach hurts with how much he wants. From there it’s only natural to replay the kiss, starting with Dex’s big hands curled around his forearms. He can almost taste Dex’s lips, warm and soft and sweet with wine. He can still hear Dex calling him Buttercup, can still see the way Dex’s pupils were blown wide when they broke the kiss, can still feel the tingle from Dex’s stubble dragging against his own.

Derek sighs and starts counting again. It’s going to be a long night.  

The next morning, he considers not going in to the station. It’s not his actual job or anything, and like, he could always claim that he needed to take a day to work on some actual writing instead of following Poindexter around like lost puppy. (And yes, in the daylight it’s Poindexter, not Dex). But he knows what that will look like to Poindexter, and he doesn’t have it in him to leave Poindexter to deal with Birkholtz and Chow’s harassment all by himself. It’ll be fine, he reasons. He can act like last night was all a great and amazing joke, like he can’t still feel the ghost of Poindexter’s lips against his own.

“Not fucking cool,” Derek whispers to himself as he pushes apart the elevator doors, eyes going immediately to Poindexter. Over the past six months, Derek had gotten fairly used to Poindexter and all of his ridiculousness. He doesn’t laugh awkwardly at Poindexter’s jokes anymore, didn’t stare too long at his biceps or anything weird. But Poindexter had the nerve to wear a god damn sweater today, and for some reason all Derek can think about is getting his hands all over it. Which is just… not fucking cool.

“Hey Poindexter, your boyfriend’s here!” Birkholtz bellows, his chuckle bordering on obnoxious. Derek considers hitting him, because the dude can be annoying as fuck, but he gets distracted by the bright flush spreading from Poindexter’s oversized ears to his cheeks. A grown ass man blushing shouldn’t do anything for Derek, but it has his chest feeling tight and an urge to press kisses all across that pink skin rising up inside him regardless.

“Hey babe,” Derek says, shooting finger guns at Poindexter for good measure. It makes Chow laugh, and Poindexter rolls his eyes, but Derek can’t stop staring at Poindexter’s mouth. He doesn’t even have good lips, is the fucking thing. They’re thin and always grimacing or frowning, and really, not ideal for kissing. But last night… last night Derek just wanted those stupid lips all over his entire body.

“Fingerprints came back on our vic,” Poindexter starts as Derek half falls into his chair, setting the tray of coffees down beside him. “Ryanne Combs, nineteen, worked as a go-go dancer at a nightclub, lives at home with her mother in Queens.” Poindexter is all business, though it doesn’t really go with that indecently soft looking blue sweater or the faint blush still covering his cheeks. Derek is staring, and he knows it, but he can’t quite bring himself to stop. “You two,” Poindexter continues, pointing at Chow and Birkholtz, “Go visit the mother. She’s already been notified of her daughter’s death. See if she knows what Ryanne was doing in Greenwich Village. Nurse and I are going to take her place of employment.”

“Spending some more quality time together, huh?” Birkholtz adds, waggling his eyebrows. Nurse would flip him off, but Poindexter’s already glaring, so he figures he should try not to add more fuel to the fire.

“As if you and Chow want to be split up,” Poindexter shoots back easily, standing up in one smooth motion. Derek can’t help but watch as Poindexter holsters his gun and pins on his badge, his NYPD jacket pulling tight across his broad shoulders. It’s a powerful image, something full of serious responsibility and just a tinge of raw sexuality that Derek has been trying to capture in writing Detective Wilder for months now. Grabbing his pen, he hastily scribbles down as few sentences in his notepad, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he can trick his readers into falling in love with Wilder, the same way he accidently fell in love with Poindexter.

It takes Derek a moment to realize he just thought the love word to himself, about Poindexter, and he kind of wants to bleach out his brain. This was not part of the plan, this cannot be happening, there is a big difference between lust and love and Derek did not realize he was so close to that dangerous line.

“Coming Nurse? Or you gonna hang out and write weird metaphors all day?” Poindexter smirks at him, that smug little grin that shows off his teeth and makes Derek’s skin feel too hot.

“I must follow the detective with hair the color of a taco bell hot sauce packet – mild, of course,” Derek half sings. Poindexter laughs, and not for the first time, Derek thanks his parents for skin that doesn’t easily flush. He is so, so, fucked.

The Grind is exactly the kind of place Derek would have as a backdrop for one of his more cheesy mystery novels. In the light of day the place is almost eerie, all those blank walls and velvet couches lit up with sunlight. In the dark with colored lights and fog machines going, it probably seems more… sensual, but for now, it’s just kind of strange. Of course it doesn’t help that Poindexter would be out of place here no matter the time of day, clearly uncomfortable with the atmosphere judging by the stiffness of his movements. It would probably be comical, if Derek could stop thinking about the good time he’d show Poindexter at one of the clubs he likes to frequent. He can just imagine Poindexter with glitter sticking to his sweaty skin, smiling easier with a beer in his hand, pupils blown wide as he watches Derek dance.

“Yeah I know Ryanne,” the club manager huffs, wiping a cloth across the sticky top of one of the VIP tables. “She’s missed three shifts now, what kind of trouble has she gotten into this time?” The manager seems tired, her violet braids tied up in a big bun on top of her head. She looks like what Derek imagines Aphrodite to be, with her deep brown eyes and darker skin, her body full of soft curves, from her lips to her hips and waist. He knows instantly that he’ll be writing a character around her at some point, almost captivated with the way her lips part in shock when Poindexter breaks the news to her.

“Well now that I think of it,” she’s saying as Derek brings himself back to reality. “There was a guy, he showed up here several times, always on Ryanne’s nights… he’d just stand there and stare at her while she danced. It was creepy as hell. I don’t think he was here during the shifts she missed either.”

Poindexter nods seriously, scribbling something down in his notebook. “Could you help us identify this man? We need to track him down.”

“He was here just a few days ago, I can have someone in security pull the footage from the front door and send it over.”

“That would be great, thanks Olivia.” Poindexter hands her his card, shoving his notebook back in his pocket. “Give me a call when you find the footage, or if you think of anything else.”

Derek follows Poindexter out of the club in a haze, mind working overtime as he thinks about how he will add Olivia to his book. Perhaps as Detective Wilder’s best friend, who he has unmistakable UST with. Or maybe as a rival FBI agent, always showing up to take over Wilder’s cases before he can solve them. There’s so many possibilities here, and it feels good to add a character that’s outside of Wilder’s core group of fellow detectives that the story is built around.  

“So,” Poindexter says, his voice catching in his throat. Derek blinks and forces himself to the present, only to realize that they’re in Poindexter’s SUV, and have been driving for a few minutes at least. “About last night…” Derek swallows hard. He has no idea where Poindexter is going with this, but he’s pretty sure he’s not going to like it. “When we… um… kissed… I just uh, wanted to make sure that I didn’t like over step or anything… you know, we didn’t really talk about it.”

Derek can’t help but grin. Poindexter’s actually being almost chivalrous. It’s ridiculous, is what it is, but god dammit, it’s kind of cute. “Dude, you’re all good, don’t worry about it,” Derek pats absently at Poindexter’s arm. “That was like, top five material anyways bro, so thanks for that.”

Poindexter lets out a choking sound, and when Derek looks at him, his entire face has gone bright red. Derek replays that last sentence in his head.

“Uh…” he starts, wracking his brain for some sort of explanation that isn’t totally humiliating but also doesn’t totally wreck his chances of getting to kiss Poindexter again.

“Top five material,” Poindexter asks, his voice jumping an octave. “Only top five, seriously?”

And that isn’t exactly where Derek thought this was going. He shifts sideways in his seat so that he can smirk at Poindexter head on. “Where do you rank our kiss, Poindexter?”

“This isn’t about my experiences,” Poindexter scowls, full flush returning to his ears and neck. “It’s just not acceptable to me to be any lower than third place.” He sets his jaw, defiant, as they pull into the precinct lot, and Derek has to tamp down on the sudden urge to set his teeth on the sharp edge of Poindexter’s jawbone.

“Well you’re sitting solidly in fifth place,” Derek lies, purposefully not moving from his seat as Poindexter parks the SUV. He can feel his heart pounding in his fingertips, blood racing hot through his veins. “Moving up in the ranks is all up to you, dude.”

The tension in the car is palpable, like electricity zipping back and forth between Derek and Poindexter as they stare at each other across the center console. Poindexter’s eyes flick down to Derek’s lips and back up again, and Derek feels like he’s suddenly back at sixteen and kissing Tiffany Brown for the very first time. “Yeah, okay,” Poindexter breathes, his voice low and thick and full of determination. Derek’s not ready for Poindexter to reach for him, one big, calloused hand curling around the back of his neck, dragging him gently forward. He’s not ready for the slow drag of Poindexter’s upturned nose up the length of his throat, the shivery heat of his breath against his ear. He is ready by the time their eyes lock though, ready for Dex’s lips on his, ready for anything Dex could throw at him.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” Dex asks, and it’s cliché and annoying, and the answer is obviously yes, and Derek clearly shouldn’t be swooning, but he is. Oh he is.

“Yeah,” Derek breathes, already starting to close the distance between them. This kiss is different than the last, rougher, hotter. Their lips slot together for only a moment before Dex’s teeth are involved, nipping and tugging, soothing the sting with his tongue. Derek thinks he might be dying, possibly, when he pushes his fingers into Dex’s hair and Dex straight up whines. He’s uncomfortably aware of how hard his dick is all of a sudden, but he can’t really bring himself to care, when Dex’s teeth tug gently at his ear. “Jesus Dex,” he sighs, tilting his head to the side in an effort to offer up more skin.

Dex hums, pressing chaste kisses all along Derek’s jaw as he works his way back to his mouth. When their lips meet again it’s clearly with the distinct purpose of reducing Derek to a puddle in the passenger seat of this SUV. It’s the perfect combination of tongue and teeth and lips, like Dex somehow got his hands on a Kissing Derek Nurse: For Dummies book and memorized it word for word. Derek wants to take off Dex’s shirt, wants to take off his own shirt, wants to move this to the backseat and take Dex apart piece by piece. He wants to take Dex home, wants him in his bed and in his kitchen and wants to watch him read Harry Potter to Angela at bed time.

And that… that is scary as fuck, but he’s pretty sure he’s passed the point of no return on this one.

“So,” Dex whispers, pressing a kiss to the corner of Derek’s lips. “Where do I rank now?” Derek blinks at him, for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to play this.

“Solid third,” he says finally, watching a smirk lift Dex’s lips. “Can’t give you any higher than that though.” Dex’s eyes narrow momentarily, before a smug (insanely hot) grin takes over his face.

“We’ll see about that.” Dex has the audacity to wink at him before turning and climbing out of the SUV, an irritating swagger evident as he heads towards the precinct. Derek hurries after him, praying that he doesn’t look freshly ravaged and beyond annoyed that it’s still daylight and he’s reverted to referring to him as Dex in his head instead of Poindexter.

Dex holds the door for him, which is completely out of character, but Derek isn’t going to complain about getting to enjoy a tension filled elevator ride with the guy he apparently wants to get all domestic with. “You know,” Dex says, as the elevator passes the second floor. “You’re probably like, a solid fifth for me.” It’s a lie, Derek thinks, judging by the vaguely guilty look on Dex’s face.

Derek can’t help but grin as the elevator opens on the third floor, more than happy to watch the flex of Dex’s shoulders as he shoves the doors all the way open. “We’ll see about that.”

Dex flips him the bird over his shoulder, but it’s totally worth it.    

[juicy-cookie]

Through The Valley - Chapter 18

AO3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10075958/chapters/29103918

Tags: @luke-vaughn @embracetheapocalypsewithme @kinkozan @lupienne @theblack-wolf @lovingzombiechaos @jmackie1983 @dragonracer @miiraal @negans-network

Pairing: Negan X OFC

Chapter Summary: Something to Fear

A big thanks to @originalwinchestervamp for having a look at this chapter and giving me feedback!

Word Count: 4780

A/N: With this chapter, we arrive in the comics. Issue 97 to be exact. I will try to keep the story as canon as possible, but I might have to change some details. I’m very grateful for your reviews and I’d love to read what you thought of this chapter.

 I, I will be king

And you, you will be queen

Though nothing, will drive them away

We can beat them, just for one day

We can be heroes, just for one day

  Negan didn’t know when the last time was that he had felt this way. Content. Not since the world had ended. Excited, yes. Satisfied. But truly content, without any problems bothering him, without any potential conflicts haunting the back of his mind? If he thought long and hard, he could think of a time right after getting married, when he had been perfectly happy. But that had soon turned to shit, too, after he and Lucille had bought the house and their lives had been overrun with mortgages, job troubles and both their unfulfilled desire for children.

It wasn’t perfect by any means right now. There was still the threat of the undead fuckers outside. But that didn’t trouble him all that much. Those were predictable and could usually be dealt with with one swing of his trusted bat.

There was apparently still some conflict with the Hilltop. But he had given instructions to Andrei and Jax to be passed on to Rob. They were outside right now, with Gavin and Marv, being seen off by Lilly and Connor. Rob and the others at the outpost were supposed to take one of the Hilltop’s runners hostage until they could come up with a satisfying tribute. Nothing too brutal, just a small additional fee to show them that they had to work for the Saviors’ protection. Negan actually didn’t care that much for their supplies, what with the Sanctuary’s greenhouses having yielded enough crops to be canned for the upcoming winter. But rules were rules and the rules kept them alive.

The only thing that was keeping his current situation from being perfect was the fact that his testicles were about to fall off soon. He could feel it. Spending so much time with Lilly, working out with her, having her by his side while running the Sanctuary, he couldn’t remember wanting anything, or anyone, so much in his entire life. And he didn’t have the option of emptying into one of his wives anymore. Not that he wanted to, of course.

Lilly had made incredible progress, both physically and mentally. She had taken up her bow again and spent hours outside every day training so she could go hunting again. Not that he would let her any time soon, at least not alone. The fear of something happening to her again was still too strong.

She was back to being his second-in-command and it almost felt as if she had never left. She had even told him that her sleep had improved and she had given credit to both their workouts and their daily talks.

He had learned a lot about her in the past couple of weeks. That she loved fantasy novels and Italian food and the smell of a rainy forest and that her dad had taught her how to drive a tractor when she was twelve. He had told her about his favorite kids at his job and about his man cave at home and how he had found solace in the arms of another woman when Lucille had become too sad to sleep with him after being told that they would never have children. Lilly had frowned at that, but any other sign of disapproval had been kept to herself and for that he was eternally grateful.

But it all contributed to the ridiculous level of his sexual frustration. The touches, the laughter and the trust they shared every day had made him about ready to pop. But he had sworn to himself that he would wait for her to make the first move this time. She had to heal and she had to be absolutely sure that she wanted this. Wanted him.

“Hey, scoot your big ass over a little!”

Negan looked up to the object of his musings. He had been so deep in thoughts that he hadn’t noticed Lilly coming back inside to stand next to the rec room couch that he was, admittedly, occupying in its entirety.

“Who are you calling a big ass?” He frowned, but made room for her and spread out his arms.

“You’re right. Sorry. You don’t have an ass.”

“What?!” He clutched his chest in fake outrage. “You are really hurting my fucking feelings, baby.”

“Aww, poor Negan.” Lilly stroked his cheek and then squealed when he pretended to take a bite out of her hand.

“Just so you know, all the mass that should have gone into my ass went into my dick instead.” He could feel more than see the people around him rolling their eyes. He didn’t give a shit. All he cared about was the woman in front of him leaning into him in a fit of giggles. It made the corners of her eyes crease ever so slightly and it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He lowered his arm to wrap it her around her, but when he grasped her shoulder he audibly and visibly winced. Lilly immediately stopped laughing and looked at him concerned.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing. Just tendonitis or some shit in my wrist.”

Lilly got up and walked to one of the cupboards surrounding the seating area to get a first aid kit. She sat back down next to him, took out a bandage and proceeded to wrap it firmly around his wrist.

“Thanks. All that fucking weight lifting. It probably doesn't help that I jack off at least twice a day.” Lilly snorted while the rest of his lieutenants rolled their eyes so far back, they looked like biters for a moment. Laura even groaned.

“You masturbate with your left hand? Aren't you right-handed?” Lilly asked while taping off the bandage.

“I like to spice things up. It feels more foreign with your left hand. Almost like someone else is doing it.” He winked at her and rolled his wrist around a couple of times to see if it was comfortable.

“A true connoisseur,” Lilly chuckled and repacked the first aid kid to put it away again.

“Did Andrei say when they're going to be back from the outpost? We still need to make that tour before the first snow hits.” Dwight tried to change the subject.

“About three days. Jax wants to visit every outpost while they're already on the road. See if there's more to repair.” Lilly sat back against Negan’s chest with her feet propped up on the coffee table.

“Did you make sure to tell him at least another seven times to wear his helmet?” Laura teased. Lilly’s neurosis when it came to motorcycle safety was legendary by now.

She stuck out her tongue at her friend. “You can never be too careful.”

Negan lost track of their conversation while he played with Lilly’s hair, his knuckles brushing over the nape of her neck occasionally. He merely noticed that she was much more affectionate than usual when she laid a hand on his thigh and pressed into him more. He smiled, wishing that things could always be this way.

The day was slow and exceptionally lazy. There wasn't much to do in terms of organization and so Negan and his lieutenants spent the morning playing ping pong, or talking, or reading.

“And fucking game point! Babe, did you see that?” Negan grinned and walked over to where Lilly was sitting on a table next to Laura, both their feet on the bench below. “I motherfucking destroyed him.”

“Yeah, well done. I’m so proud of you.”

“Do I detect a flicker of sarcasm here?” He kneeled on the bench between her legs and pouted at her, which was apparently the cue for Laura to scoff and flee to where Seth and some others were playing cards.

“Sorry. You know I’m not a huge fan of competitive sports.”

“Well, I guess nobody’s fucking perfect. Except for me, of course.” He winked and Lilly chuckled. He happily noticed that she didn’t protest. “So what are you up to for the rest of the day?”

“Well, I thought about doing some reading or maybe a nap. But my room is so cold.”

“Remember to ask Marv to have a look at that fucking stove when he gets back.”

“Yeah, I will.” She took his hands and looked up at him, blushing ever so slightly. “I was thinking… your room has this huge fireplace and I noticed in the past that I sleep much better with you around. So, maybe I could sleep over at your place tonight? My ribs are totally fine now, by the way. Good as new.”

Negan gaped at her for a moment and gripped her hands a little harder without even noticing. “I… uhm… Yes! Yes, of fucking course.” A wave of excitement rushed through his body and straight to his groin.

Lilly smiled sweetly at him and they were both so busy looking into each other's eyes that they didn’t notice the commotion and the murmur going through the cafeteria at first.

“Andrei is back.”

Negan stood and frowned slightly. Somehow, the statement sounded wrong, somewhere deep inside of him. Andrei and the others had only just left this morning. Why were they back already?

He felt Lilly standing up slowly beside him. Absentmindedly, he reached for Lucille. The doors opened and Andrei staggered in. He was white as a sheet, his eyes wide, his whole body shaking. He found Negan and Lilly and ran over the metal catwalk and down into the cafeteria where they met him. Lilly put a hand on Andrei’s shoulder, who took a raspy breath before looking first at her and then at Negan.

“We were attacked.”

“What do you mean, attacked?” Negan asked and then held back Lilly who had already turned to run upstairs and out the door, no doubt to get to a car.

“We saw this van driving between the western outpost and DC. With the tributes being so light lately we thought we’d stop them and take their shit.”

“You stopped some stranger’s car in the middle of fucking nowhere to steal whatever the fuck they had on them?” Negan felt the rage boiling deep inside of him, but he was busy trying to keep a level head while wrestling a panicking Lilly with one hand.

“I didn’t want this winter to be such a fucking disaster as the last one!”

“Shut the fuck up Andrei with your piss poor fucking decision making skills. Jesus fuck!”

“What happened when you stopped them? Where are the others?” Connor asked from next to Lilly. He had taken her other arm to keep her from running off.

Andrei looked as if he was close to crying. “They just opened fire at us. I couldn’t do anything…”

Connor and Lilly both jerked themselves free and were up the stairs in mere seconds, with Laura and Seth at their heels. Negan now gripped Andrei by his arm, more out of concern that he might break down than out of anger. Hauling both of them up to the catwalk and then outside, he yelled instructions to the people around him.

“Seth, get the cars! Two plus the truck. Dwight, take the radio and go ahead to the western outpost. Get Rob and ten others. Big guys. Weapons, too. Carson, same here. Don’t forget the radios. You’ve got five fucking minutes and then we’ll roll out. Go!”

The courtyard fell into a flurry of activity with cars being moved and people yelling instructions and then Negan was in a car with Lilly next to him in the passenger seat and Connor in the back. They followed Seth, Laura and Andrei who were leading the way. The truck with a small army of Saviors was behind them, all on their way to where someone had attacked four of their own, seemingly out of nowhere.

Lilly held his right hand in a vice grip, her whole body tense as if she was about to jump out of the moving car any second.

“Jax will be fine,” Connor mumbled from the back seat.

“We’ll see when we fucking get there.”

“How long?”

“About an hour.”

Lilly kept quiet, staring straight ahead with her jaw set and her fingernails boring painfully into his palm. Negan didn’t care. It distracted him from the thoughts running wild in his head. Outside, the countryside was replaced by the outskirts of Washington, where the buildings and the undead were more numerous, only to go back to small towns and empty streets in between fields.

Soon, their silent trip came to an end in a suburban street lined with trees. The three of them jumped out of the car and met up with Seth, Laura and Andrei. Negan looked around to take in the situation. Three motorcycles were on their sides on the ground. Two biters were crouching over two figures and a third one was lying further back. Seth drew his knife to take care of the undead and Negan stepped forward to take a closer look at the bodies. The first one was large enough that he could tell that it was Marv, even with his face having been eaten. The second was Gavin, who stared unblinking towards the sky, his eyes as wide open as his ribcage.

Negan nodded grimly to Seth who stepped towards the bodies, knife in hand. The Saviors that had come in the truck formed a circle around the motorcycles. He wanted to tell them to look out for any signs of more undead or even living, when the sound of Lilly running and crying out made him spun around.

“No! No no no no no! Jax!” She dropped to her knees beside the third person lying in a pool of their own blood and tried taking of their helmet. Negan made his way towards her, but Connor was faster and joined her on Jax’s other side, helping her freeing his head. Negan got down on one knee next to Lilly, one hand on his knife in case he had already turned. Unlike the other two, his body didn’t bear any signs of having served as lunch for the biters. His eyes were clear and moving between Lilly and Connor when they finally took off his helmet.

“I… they…” Jax’s voice was too weak and it ended in a sickening gurgle.

“Shhhh.” Lilly stroked his forehead and over his hair. “Don’t talk now. Keep your strength. We’re gonna get you out of here and back home to Fisher.” She turned her head to address Seth and Dwight. Negan hadn’t noticed him and the outpost guys arriving. “Go get a stretcher. Or a blanket. Something to transport him.”

But Seth and Dwight merely looked at each other and then at Negan, their faces grim. Negan closed his eyes for a moment and gently put his hand on Lilly’s shoulder while she looked back down at Jax. His face was gray, almost devoid of all life. Negan saw him holding his left side, but he was already too weak to stem the blood seeping out of the wound there. Connor noticed and slipped his hand into Jax’s, tears streaming down his face.

Jax smiled at his lover for a moment before slowly turning back to Lilly.

“Please,” he whispered.

“No,” Lilly sobbed, “No, you can do this Jax. You’ll be fine. Please! Please don’t leave me.”

“You promised.”

“No…” she wailed again, her hand still in his hair.

“Please,” his lips formed the word again, but no sound came from him anymore.

Negan took out his knife, gently grabbed Lilly’s free hand and handed it to her. Her whole body was heaving with sobs as she bent over Jax and placed a kiss on his forehead. Negan heard her whispering a soft “I love you” before her hand found his and she held onto him as if he was a lifeline. Negan squeezed and hoped he didn’t hurt her, but he didn’t know how else to be there for her right now.

Lilly placed the knife over one of Jax’s now closed eyes. Connor turned his face away. A cry, a squelch and the knife fell to the ground.

Lilly’s shoulders were shaking and she cried out like a wounded animal. She seemed to be in so much pain that it hurt Negan, too. She spun around and he caught her in his arms, holding her tight and stroking her back, letting her sob into the red scarf she had given him almost a year ago.

Seth and Laura both held Connor and Negan saw that all of his Saviors looked stricken, if they weren’t crying openly.

He looked around for Andrei, who seemed close to fainting.

“Tell me what the fuck happened here,” Negan demanded, still trying to keep Lilly from falling apart.

“Like I said, boss, we were on our way to the outpost and saw them coming from a distance and decided to have a look. Jax didn’t want to at first, but Gavin and Marv were all for it. God, I’m so sorry. Please, Lilly, I didn’t-”

“You stop your fucking blubbering right now!” Negan didn’t want to raise his voice too much with Lilly still clutching at his shirt, crying into his chest. But he was quickly losing his patience with his scout. Andrei took a couple of steadying breaths before he continued.

“Right. Okay. Sorry, I mean, right… We stopped their van and told them to give us their stuff and they, uhm… oh yeah, they mentioned something about the Hilltop? How they were going to protect the Hilltop from now on?”

“If they had the fucking firepower to do this, they ain’t from the fucking Hilltop.”

“That’s what I told them. And then they just opened fire. Shot Gavin and Marv right through the head. And Jax, well… he was wearing his helmet, so I guess they aimed for the stomach.”

“Why the fuck did they leave you alive?”

“To give you a message. That they would protect the Hilltop from now on. That we won’t get anything from them anymore. And that they offer us the same deal… their protection in exchange for half of our supplies.”

Negan couldn’t help but laugh at that. He felt like the whole world had gone mad. Again.

“And who, pray tell, were these fucking fuckers who so graciously offered to save our community from the fucking undead?”

“That’s the thing, Negan, I don’t know. The guy didn’t give me his name.”

“Think real fucking hard, Andrei. Anything that could help us find these assholes. Looks, weapons, license plates, anything?”

“Okay, well there were three of them. I mean, there might have been more inside the van, but-”

“So three fuckers that shot at you. What else?”

“One guy and two women. And only one of them shot at us. The other had some kind of sword? Oh and she was black. And... oh yeah! The guy was missing a hand.”

Negan suddenly realized that Lilly had stopped crying and had become very still in his arms. She raised her head and all tears were gone from her face as she stared into the distance somewhere behind Negan, her eyes unblinking.

“Rick Grimes.”

Negan took her face into his hands and tried to meet her gaze. The name rang a bell somewhere in his subconscious.

“Lil…?”

She blinked and then looked at him. Her eyes and nostrils were wide as if she was about to scream. Before Negan could say anything, she had jumped up. She leaned over Seth, took the keys that were dangling from his jeans pocket and broke into a run towards the cars.

Negan scrambled to his feet as fast as he could and went after her. Lilly had just torn open the car door when he caught up with her and slammed it back shut. He wrangled the keys from her and threw them to the nearest Savior. She turned around and tried to duck away, but he grasped her shoulders and sent her back crashing into the car. She didn’t even wince, but started to struggle against his grip.

“Let me go!”

“No.”

“LET ME GO NEGAN! He killed them! They killed them all! I’m gonna kill them! I’m gonna…”

All her fighting stopped and she would have sank to the ground if Negan hadn’t caught her in his arms. She sobbed and coughed and trembled in his arms for what felt like hours. He merely held her again until she calmed down and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Where are they, Lilly?”

“Alexandria. I can show you.”

“Dwight? Go get us a fucking map!”

Negan gently untangled himself from Lilly and took her face between his hands again. She looked up at him with red eyes and tears and snot running down her nose, but she didn’t seem to care and neither did he.

“Baby, I know you want to tear their fucking walls down right fucking now and kill every single one of those motherfuckers. But I can’t let you do that. You understand that, right?”

She sniffed and nodded. Another tear ran down her cheek. He caught it with his thumb and smiled down at her.

“That’s my girl. I promise that we’ll make them fucking pay for what they’ve done. But we need to be fucking smart about it. You told me that they’re big and that this Rick fucker ain’t like Gregory or Ezekiel. So I need you to tell me everything. Everything you know, about their community, their defenses, their habits. Who needs to go first? Who is dangerous? Who do I need to kill to fucking break them.”

She frowned slightly at that and Negan could almost see the gears turning in her head.

“You won’t wipe them out,” she whispered. It wasn’t a question so much as a statement. He hoped that she knew him well enough by now to understand.

“No.”

“And you won’t kill Rick.”

“No, Lilly.”

“Because you want to make him suffer?”

“That, too. I’m gonna take something from him. To show him who he fucked with. But if they’re as capable as you told me… then we can use that to our advantage. They’re too big to attack, right? I know it’s fucking hard for you to think clearly right now, but please try. Think about it, Lil.”

She stared at the zipper of his leather jacket for a while before she shook her head slightly as if to let go of something. Then she closed her eyes tightly for a moment and cleared her throat.

“They have walls. Huge metal walls, reinforced with steel beams. They can be manned in all directions. You can’t tear them down with a car. The only way in or out is through the gate. It’s guarded at all times. They have water and electricity and weapons and probably more than enough supplies. There’s no way to lay siege to them.”

Dwight stepped forward at that, a map in his hand. Seth, Laura and Connor joined them, the latter still looking shaken, but all of them determined.

“What about the surroundings? Are there any places where we could watch them?” Dwight asked.

“It’s a suburban place. The gate opens to some shops, a school and there’s a tower from where you can overlook the area. But they were constantly expanding. I don’t think they would relocate the gate, but I can’t say for sure how the community layout is right now. Let me see that map.”

They opened the map over the hood of the car and positioned themselves around it with Lilly in the middle. It was of an area south of DC. Negan vaguely remembered wondering why they had never sent scavenging teams there, but now he realized that Lilly had wanted to keep the Saviors away from Alexandria.

“Here. Someone give me a pen.” She pointed at a cluster of houses in the western part of the town. Seth handed her a pen and she circled it. “The gate is here. And there’s the school,” she marked it with an S, “with lots of hiding spots. The tower is across from it.”

“I’m gonna take a team there. Watch them, maybe scare them a bit.” Dwight’s grin was made even nastier by the scar stretching over the left side of his face. “Seth, you in?”

“Fuck yeah! They’re gonna rue the day they decided to fuck with us. Anyone we need to look out for, Lil?”

Lilly bit her lip in concentration. “There’s one guy. Ginger, huge, former military. Be careful around him.”

“Alright, let’s make one thing perfectly fucking clear. You just go there to watch those fuckers and then report back to the Sanctuary. I know you’re all fucking bloodthirsty after this shitshow here, but let’s just pretend for one fucking second that we’re reasonable fucking human beings and not rabid fucking dogs and calm. the fuck. down.”

“They killed Jax, Negan. And Marv. And Gavin.”

“And they will kill more of us if we don’t go about this at least a little fucking levelheaded. I’m not gonna lose any more people to these psychos if I can fucking help it.”

“Lilly, what do you say about all this?” Seth turned to Lilly, who wrapped her arms around herself and frowned. Fresh tears ran down her cheeks. Negan was sure that it would take some time until she would stop crying.

“Negan is right. Rick WILL fight back. And as much as I want to see his head on a pike, his people would stop at nothing to avenge him. He’s a tough bastard. He once ripped out a guy’s throat with his bare teeth for threatening his son.”

“He’s got a kid? Interesting…” Negan mused.

“Yeah, but you won’t touch him!”

“Of course not. What the fuck do you take me for, some fucking monster?”

“Okay, okay,” Seth intervened before tempers could flare too high. They were all on edge and ready to fight, no matter with whom. “What about you, Connor?”

“Jax wouldn’t have wanted us to start a massacre. And I want those bastards to suffer for what they’ve done to him. Can’t possibly do that if they’re dead, now can you?”

“So you want us to spy on them and then what?” Dwight still seemed unconvinced.

“And then tell us when they leave their compound again. I’m gonna make that prick my personal bitch, but we need to make an example out of one of them. Show them who’s the King Dick Motherfucker around here.”

“I’ll think of someone. Someone whose death will make an impact. Someone worthy of Lucille.” Lilly’s eyes were full of steel when they found Negan’s.

“And we’ll come up with a plan while you do that.” Laura put an arm around Lilly’s shoulders and squeezed her friend tightly. ���They won’t know what hit ‘em.”

The Saviors got busy loading up the bikes and bodies and splitting up into teams. Lilly and Negan watched together as Dwight and Seth said their goodbyes and departed for Alexandria with their men. He grabbed her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers.

“I know you’re fucking broken right now. I just want you to know that I’m here. And I’m not gonna go anywhere. We’re gonna fucking fuck these fuckers up. Together.”

“I’m not broken.” She turned to him and wrapped her arm around his waist. “But you have to promise me that you’re gonna throw Rick into the mud and keep him there. He can’t get up ever again, or we won’t survive this.”

“I fucking promise, Lilly.”

He held her and kissed the top of her head, hoping that she wouldn’t notice his heart racing as if it wanted to jump out of his chest. This wasn’t the time to show any weaknesses.

Not when he was about to face Rick motherfucking Grimes.