#tumblr staff clearly cheer for the best team

[amoodybun]

I cannot wait for the useless blue checkmarks to hatch like a blaseball season finale.

[gravelyhumerus]

Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter Nine

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Title: “I may just take your breath away”

Relationship: Jemily

Chapter Summary:

Emily and JJ sleep together.

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr:  One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

Content warning: detailed descriptions of sickness, abortion mention.

—

Jennifer Jareau looked like a drowned rat.

A pretty, blonde, sniffly drowned rat that Emily Prentiss had a massive crush on. 

She was soaked head to toe, her running shoes muddy and her hair slicked to her skull. She was shivering and looking absolutely miserable. Over her shoulder was her blue duffel bag full of her soccer equipment. It was a Monday, so Emily knew JJ had a practice that afternoon. 

“Pen locked me out of our room,” JJ said without greeting as she walked into Emily’s room, “And I need a towel.”

“Hello to you too, Jayje,” Emily said sarcastically. 

She stepped back to let her friend enter, shivering at the thought of having to play soccer in the pouring rain, let alone a rainy November afternoon when the temperature was verging on freezing. Ever since the brutal storm on Halloween, the weather had been dreary and wet.

 Emily could see the field from her window, it was across the street by the Arts building. While she, and the rest of their friends, made a point to go to all of JJ’s games together and cheer her on, Emily was thankful that the weather had been ok so far, she wasn’t sure how much hypothermia she could handle for one girl. 

She grabbed her bath towel and tossed it JJ’s way, and opened her closet to find a cozy sweater to offer. Well, Emily thought, she probably would take hypothermia to support JJ, she just wouldn’t be happy about it. 

JJ was simultaneously drying her hair and rifling through her bag. She was still shivering from the cold.

“I left my keys when I ran out of my room this morning,” JJ explained, “And Pen promised she’d be here when it was over.”

“I think she’s teaching Hotch how to knit at his dorm,” Emily said with a laugh, having seen her Insta story a few minutes prior of Hotch struggling with his hands tangled in yarn. 

“Just wish she would’ve left the door unlocked,” JJ muttered, “I think I have my spare keys in here somewhere.”

“Here, take this,” Emily said, handing her a grey hoodie with “Oxford” written on the chest, a souvenir from when she lived in England. 

Emily turned around so JJ could at least get out of her wet shirt and into the sweater. For a second, the devil on her shoulder told her to look into the mirror on her closet door, that if she did she’d catch a glimpse of JJ shirtless, but Emily shook her head slightly, squeezing her eyes shut. Guilt flared in her stomach at the thought.

She’s been thinking about JJ too much lately. 

Their kiss. Their magical life changing kiss. The kiss to end all kisses. That was basically all Emily’s brain could focus on these days. 

Before that, her fantasies about Jennifer Jareau were simply fantasies, but now! Now she had her memories. That kiss lingered on her lips and on her brain and in her dreams. Sometimes late at night Emily has found herself putting a thumb onto her cheek, closing her eyes and pretending it was JJ’s hands pulling her closer, just as she had done in the basement on Halloween. 

If she had to describe how she felt, the only thing that made sense was to say that Emily was absolutely smitten with JJ. 

But, and there was always a but, they hadn’t mentioned the kiss since. Not even a word of acknowledgement between the two. 

The day after, when she and Derek walked to class, he interrogated her about what the hell happened , but Emily genuinely didn’t know. What she did know was that it wasn’t Emily who instigated, she thought, it was JJ who had pulled her tight and whose tongue swept across hers. 

That week, Emily had grown more and more concerned that she had crossed a line. JJ had started acting strangely, looking away anytime Emily looked at her and telling her that she was too busy to hang out. Then, that weekend JJ had surprised her with a party. A party to celebrate Emily, and Reid and Hotch.

Emily realized that JJ wasn’t ignoring her, instead she was scheming something to make Emily happy. And what had she done? Cried in the bathroom and made a scene. Instead of JJ realizing that Emily was a broken shell of a girl and running far from her, JJ had held her tight and told her everything was going to be ok.

Emily didn’t tell her everything that day, not about all the awful things she did to fit in as a teen, about her mistakes, her abortion, about Matthew… Not yet. Emily had tucked all of that into a box that need not be opened up any time soon.

So now, Emily had the thoughts of JJ’s lips dancing around her brain, but also of her hand in hers, her arms around her and the way she promised she’d always be there.

This got in the way when Emily was trying to focus on other things like school or carrying on a conversation with the blonde. 

JJ sneezed, startling Emily out of her thoughts. She turned back around and looked at JJ, who’s hair was slightly less wet and was now wearing her hoodie and looking a little bit warmer. 

“À tes souhaits,” Emily said, saying bless you in French.

“I hope I’m not getting sick,” JJ grumbled, dumping some pens out of her backpack in search of the elusive keys. “Kennedy’s gotten half the team out with the flu.”

She sneezed again.

“Gesundheit,” Emily said, having fun with her languages. 

“She got it from her boyfriend,” JJ continued, “You remember Anderson? On the water polo team?” 

Emily nodded, taking a seat on the edge of her desk, watching JJ sitting on her bed in her clothes, imagining a completely different situation where she would do that. (Emily’s thoughts were full of comments like these, her imagination going wild at the prospect of JJ maybe liking her back.)

“I’m going to kill Garcia,” JJ said, “She told me she’d be in our room after our game.”

“Aha!” JJ said, pulling her lanyard out of a pencil case. “Got them. Thanks Em for the towel. You’re the best neighbour I could ever ask for.”

JJ handed it back, and Emily took the slightly damp towel and hung it up on the back of her closet.

“Anytime,” Emily said, “Though I think this may be an elaborate plot to steal all of my clothes.”

JJ looked down at herself.

“I think it suits me!”

Emily had to agree.

 ———

Two days later, JJ was at Emily’s door again, but looking a lot worse for wear. 

A pink fuzzy blanket was wrapped around her shoulders, she was wearing oversized sweatpants and a sports bra, and her hair was messy and tucked behind her ears. Her nose was red and her skin looked pale.

“Hey Em,” JJ rasped.

“You’re sick,” Emily pointed out, unhelpfully.

“Nice work, Sherlock,” she said, coughing into her blanketed arm. 

“What’s up?” Emily asked, leaning on the door frame.

“I’m out of cold pills and can’t sleep,” JJ said.

“It’s like nine pm?” Emily said, the statement coming out as a question. 

“I have practice at six in the morning,” JJ said, adjusting the blanket around her shoulders, sniffling a little. The girl was swaying as she stood. 

“You cannot actually be going to practice in that state,” Emily said.

“What state?” JJ barely managed to get out between sneezes.

“ Bless you ,” Emily said, knowing the girl definitely needed it. 

Emily went to her desk, rummaging through a drawer. She found the very end of a cold and flu medicine pack, the kind with day and nighttime pills and handed them to JJ. 

“Those good?” Emily asked. 

JJ nodded and thanked her, before trudging back across the hall. 

Before her door closed Emily said: “ Please take a break JJ!”

“I’m fine,” came the nasal voice of her friend, followed by the sound of her blowing her nose. 

 ———

On Wednesday, JJ showed up to their weekly French study date somehow looking even more sick. There were bags under her eyes, and a wracking cough made her entire body shutter with its force. 

JJ continued to insist that she was fine, despite the fact that she spent more time coughing than speaking French.

Emily was worried about her, but knew at this point, nothing she would say would make the very determined girl slow down. 

 ——— 

On Thursday, Emily walked into the girls’ bathroom, toothbrush in hand before bed, and found JJ curled up on the floor next to the toilet, looking pale as a sheet.

“JJ, oh my god,” Emily said, pushing open the semi ajar door and kneeling down next to her friend. 

“Mmm fine,” JJ made out, her face in her arms, not lifting her head to talk to Emily.

“This is the exact opposite of fine, JJ,” Emily said.

She had absolutely no idea how to help her. 

Emily thought back to all the times she had been sick, and it had usually been whatever staff her mother had had at the time who took care of her. Nannies, cooks, assistants would bring her food, take her temperature and put buckets next to her bed. Ambassador Prentiss wasn’t the kind of mom that Emily would see on TV worried about her child when they were sick. 

“Do you want water?” Emily asked, feeling helpless.

JJ shook her head, not raising it from the edge of the toilet.

“The floor is nice and cold,” JJ said, “I like it here.”

Emily almost laughed, and would have if she wasn’t so worried about the other girl.

“What do you need, JJ?” Emily asked.

“Nothing,” JJ said, “I can handle this.”

JJ’s hair hung limp around her face, and Emily leaned forward, taking the elastic from around her wrist and helped JJ pull her hair back. Emily couldn’t help, but she could at least keep JJ’s hair from getting puke on it.

Clearly hitting another wave of nausea, JJ moved, emptying the rest of her stomach into the toilet and then flushing. Emily rubbed her arm up and down her back, hoping that the motions would be comforting. 

While the toilet did its thing, JJ sat back, leaning against the grey stall door, her shoulder resting against Emily’s. Her head was tilted back and her eyes closed tightly against the fluorescent lights. 

“I really don’t feel good, Em,” JJ whimpered. 

“I know,” Emily said, “What do you want?”

“Water,” JJ croaked. 

“I’ll get some,” Emily said, patting JJ on the shoulder. JJ nodded, returning to her hunched over position on the toilet.

Emily basically sprinted down the hall, and spotting JJ’s slightly ajar door, she pushed it open to find Penelope sitting at her computer.

“Hello my beautiful goth friend,” Penelope said, “How may I be of service to you?”

“JJ’s currently puking her guts out,” Emily explained, slightly breathless, “She’s asking for water.”

“Oh my poor dear,” she said, pushing back from her desk and hurrying over to JJ’s night-side table to retrieve her water. “She told me she was going to shower, I didn’t think she was that bad.”

“She kept telling me she was fine,” Emily said, “Even while she puked.”

“Typical,” Penelope huffed, following Emily down the hall, “Can’t show any weakness. Both of you! I’m sick of it.”

Emily didn’t say anything, not sure if she could argue that accusation. She followed Penelope into the bathroom, hovering by the sink as Penelope took over her caregiving responsibilities. 

She gently felt JJ’s forehead, and held up her water bottle for JJ to rinse her mouth. 

“Let’s get you to bed,” Penelope said after a few minutes without any puke. “Em? Help us?

JJ stook shakily, and when Emily took her arm, JJ leaned into her, putting most of her weight on the taller girl. Penelope carried JJ’s water and shower things back for her, letting Emily take care of the dizzy JJ.

Penelope held the door open, and Emily guided JJ into bed, hovering awkwardly as JJ nestled into her bed and Penelope grabbed their trash bin and placed it next to her. 

“I’ve got it from here, Em,” Penelope said, patting her on the shoulder. 

“Feel better JJ,” she said, backing away, unable to take her eyes off the girl, who looked paler than she’d ever seen her. 

“I miss you already,” JJ rasped out, her eyes still closed, curling up on her side and pulling the blankets up over her shoulder. 

Emily smiled before leaving the room. She was worried about her but knew Penelope would take better care of JJ than Emily could ever. 

 ———

She and Hotch spent almost five days straight crammed inside a tiny study room in the arts library working on a criminal psych presentation. It was worth almost half their grade.

They had commandeered the tiny room, booking it for the entire block of time each day, and only really leaving it to eat and sleep. At first, their friends would join them, popping in to provide moral support, but as the deadline neared, and Hotch and Emily grew more frantic, their friends mostly left them alone besides for the occasional reminder to take a break.

According to Penelope who periodically texted Emily with updates, JJ spent most of the time sleeping, and having been given time off from soccer and extensions on her school work, Penelope had finally convinced her to focus on recovery. 

It was in the library when Emily began to sniffle. It was an annoying nasal drip that tickled her nose and made her feel like she constantly needed to blow her nose. 

Unfortunately, she was not the kind of girl who had tissues on her. Emily wasn’t particularly well prepared in that respect. She dug through her backpack only to find a pair of tangled headphones, chapstick and two tampons. She briefly considered sticking those in her nose and calling it a day but thought Hotch would probably pass out at the sight of that.

An hour in, Hotch got so fed up with her constant sniffling that he stole a roll of paper towel from the boys washroom and threw it at her when he returned. 

The scratchy paper made her nose sensitive and red. She learned about the redness when Hotch called her “Rudolph” to get her attention.  

As the day ticked on, Emily began to feel either too hot, or too cold. She chalked this up to the library’s dodgy heating system and the colder November weather. 

After lunch, the sneezing started. 

“You’re sick, Prentiss,” Hotch told her.

“No of course not,” Emily said. “I don’t get sick. It’s just allergies.”

“What are you allergic to?” 

“Uhh,” Emily looked around, “Dust?”

“Sure.”

Emily was not sick. She couldn’t afford to get sick. Sure, she had spent a lot of time in close proximity to JJ, who was still spending her most time with her face in a bin, but Emily didn’t need this now. 

She was certainly aware she had had the exact conversation with JJ, encouraging the other girl to take a break to recover. Emily could talk the talk but couldn’t walk the walk on self care.

When she woke up the next morning. She felt even worse. Her throat was sore, she had a headache and she couldn’t breathe through her nose. Having given JJ all of her cold medicine, she powered through, drinking an endless barrage of hot tea, hoping it would heal her. 

She had too much to do. 

Days passed with Emily pushing herself to exhaustion, working all day, making it to her extra curricular meetings and only falling asleep during a few of her lectures. 

The day of her presentation, Emily’s entire body hurt. She had barely slept the night before, as her sneezing kept her up. She managed to wear a pair of leggings and a sweater, but tied her hair back in a ponytail, too exhausted to do much else.  

“You look like shit,” Hotch told her when she showed up to their class, shaking his head. 

“Thanks, I feel like it too,” Emily quipped. “I haven’t thrown up yet though, so I count that as a victory.”

In a feat of sheer willpower, Emily made it through her presentation before collapsing into the fold out lecture hall seat, her head laid back, immediately falling asleep and sleeping through the other four group presentations. 

After class, Hotch felt her forehead with his hand and announced that she had a fever. He then frog marched her straight to the clinic, pointing out that her hands shook and that she couldn’t do anything without coughing up a storm. 

Emily was sure if it was not for his American Law seminar with mandatory attendance, he would be right next to her, ensuring she actually saw a doctor.

“The doctor will call you when it’s your turn dear,” the receptionist told her as she handed Emily’s student card back to her. 

Emily nodded and grabbed some hand sanitizer, rubbing the cold liquid over her hands. 

She sighed, which turned into a cough that tore through her lungs. She found a spot in the waiting room, under a gigantic poster about STDs. To her left was a small table covered with pamphlets about mental health resources and a big bowl of condoms. 

The door to the clinic opened again and Emily shivered. The early November breeze was starting to chill her to the bone. She lifted the hood to her black sweater over her head, hoping to conserve some more heat that way. 

Emily glanced at the new patient and was not entirely surprised to see JJ walking towards her.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Emily said as JJ walked into the waiting room.

“I hear I gave you my plague?” JJ asked, shrugging her backpack off her shoulders. 

Emily nodded and coughed. 

“Sorry,” JJ sat down next to her.

“What are you doing here?” Emily asked, “You look a lot better than you did.”

“Hotch told me you needed an escort,” JJ said, “And I was in the neighbourhood. He said something about not trusting you to actually go to the doctor’s.”

Emily laughed at that. 

“You’re my babysitter?” Emily asked. 

“I’m whatever you want me to be,” JJ said with a wink. “I think half of my team is out of commission with this. I’ve never been so sick, I’m glad I’m on the mend.”

Emily nodded, counting the days in her head and realizing that JJ had been out for over a week. 

“You look better than you did,” Emily commented.

“Thanks,” JJ said, sarcastically, “At least I’m not puking anymore.”

“I never get sick,” Emily coughed, “I just want something for the cough and I’ll be fine.”

Emily coughed into her elbow, as if reminded.

“How did your presentation go?” JJ asked. 

Emily’s heart swelled at the thought that JJ paid attention to her.

“Honestly, I have no idea,” Emily said. “I feel really out of it. Hotch marched me straight here after so probably not great.” 

“Emily Prentiss?” A nurse called out.

Emily gathered up her things, shot JJ a wave and went into the exam room. 

Her doctor, a surly elderly white woman, with greying hair tied back in a low bun, barely looked at her, asking Emily a series of questions.

“What are your symptoms?” she finally asked. 

Emily explained how her head cold transformed into something a touch more debilitating, making sure to avoid downplaying her symptoms, because she knew they would take any opportunity to send her home telling her to drink water and rest. Emily did not have time to rest. 

The doctor took her vitals, listened to her lungs, grimacing at the sound of them, then took her oxygen, noting them in her chart.

Emily wasn’t a doctor but the face she made at her oxygen levels meant that they were definitely not good. 

The sudden onset of chills left her shivering on the examination table as the doctor took notes on her chart.

She checked her phone, smiling as she noticed that she had a notification from the one and only cheetobreath98.

It was a selfie, taken surreptitiously from below in the waiting room, captioned, “plague lookz!”

Emily found herself smiling. A small flame with the number 27 was next to JJ’s name. They had a streak. It was childish, but the visible marker of the fact that they had talked every day for a month, sometimes for hours at a time, sending silly photos back and forth. 

“You have a chest cold. Bronchitis. We want to nip it in the bud before it becomes pneumonia,” the doctor said, spinning in her chair to face her. “We see it a lot with students, you all work too hard.”

Emily nodded, not really agreeing with the sentiment, but understanding the feeling behind it. Emily had to work hard. 

“Take this inhaler three times daily, at least,” he said, “And any time you’re having difficulty breathing. You can take some acetaminophen for the fever.”

He explained how to use it. 

“You cannot drink, smoke or take any recreational drugs on this medication,” he warned. 

Emily, who had vowed to not smoke for the duration of her illness anyways, hoping to preserve her fragile lugs, nodded.

“Try honey for the sore throat. Lots of liquids.”

She nodded.

“Come back if you’re not better in a week,” he concluded. “Your prescription will be  there for pick up at the pharmacy.”

“Thanks doc,” Emily smiled, taking her leave, placing her mask back on for the hallway.

In the hall she pulled out her phone, opened Snapchat and took a selfie with the waiting room in the background. 

“Ya girl’s got bronchitis!!” Emily captioned it, sending it to JJ, as well as Derek and Hotch. They would enjoy her misery. 

Immediately Derek texted her.  

Derek 🕺: suuuuucks bro. need some soup?

Emily: i’ll be fine but thanks 

Emily: i feel like shit. the doctor gave me a puffer lol

Derek🕺: must be bad, I hear they usually just prescribe rest. Your lungs must suck 

Emily: typical, id assume they’d be in pristine condition 

Derek🕺: 🙄

Derek🕺: you literally smoke cigarettes 

Emily laughed at her phone and walked up to the receptionist to fill out the paperwork. The nice woman smiled at her and told her to get well soon. 

As JJ met her in the foyer, phone vibrated with another text. 

Derek🕺: you coming back to res?

Emily: ya, hotch sent jj to baby sit me

Derek🕺: wasn’t she the one who got you sick? now shes taking care of u

Derek🕺: did u make out or something??

Emily: shut up that was before she was sick

“Get any good drugs?” JJ whispered to her conspiratorially as they walked out together. 

Emily laughed louder than she expected, which manifested in wracking coughs between the two girls. 

“Actually yeah,” Emily held up the prescription. “Only because you got me sick.”

“Everyone is sick, how can you be sure it was me? Anyways I had the flu, not bronchitis.”

“You’ve been cooped up with Hotch all weekend. Maybe he got you sick.”

“I don’t think Hotch can get sick,” Emily muttered. 

They went to the pharmacy together, picking up Emily’s drugs. Emily also added some acetaminophen to her haul, cough drops and a pack of tissues, the kind with moisturizer per JJ’s suggestion. 

As Emily waited in line to cash out, swaying a little with the exertion of standing up, JJ left for a second and then returned with a box of tea. 

“I’ll make us some,” JJ said, “It’ll heal you.”

Emily felt warm, despite the chill of the store. She wasn’t sure if it was her fever or her growing love for Jennifer Jareau.

Together, they walked to their residence. Once inside, Emily wondered if JJ actually meant it when she offered the tea. 

Emily opened her door, tossing her things on her desk. She took her puffer out of the bag, read the instructions before taking a dose, trying to keep the medicine in her lungs as she breathed deep, holding back the coughing. 

The sun had started setting earlier and earlier as winter neared, and outside of Emily’s windows, the street lamps turned on. 

Emily desperately wanted it to work. She felt like a zombie, exhausted and either too hot or two cold all at once. 

She changed into a pair of pyjama pants, a black crewneck sweater with a band logo on the chest, and a pair of fuzzy socks, and pulled a blanket around her shoulders, wondering if she should just crawl into bed or if JJ’s offer still stood. 

“Em!” JJ called out as she knocked on her door, “Kettle’s boiling.”

Emily’s heart soared. The sentence felt so… domestic. She hurried across the hall, inhaler in hand (just in case), standing hesitantly in the doorway. JJ had changed into grey sweatpants and a soft green hoodie with her gold-rimmed glasses perched on her nose, looking much comfier than she had.

“Sit down!” JJ encouraged, “If you feel as gross as I do, you’ll need it.”

Emily did, relaxing on JJ’s bed, leaning into the mountain of comfortable pillows and breathing a sigh of relief in not standing any longer. A deep exhaustion had settled into bones, not helped by the long lecture that morning and the clinic visit. 

JJ walked over, handing her a mug and sitting on the bed next to her, taking a sip of her own mug. 

It was the same tea as before, sleepy time, with the warm combination of chamomile, mint, and other fruity tastes greeting her like a hug. She clutched it with two hands, enjoying how the mug radiated heat and warmed her chilly fingers. 

“Thank you,” Emily managed, her voice sounding a bit less scratchy to her ears than before.

“Any time,” JJ replied, “It’s nice to have company.”

Emily looked away, suddenly feeling shy. Should she stay? Was she welcome to hang out? Emily wasn’t sure if she wanted to stay, she didn’t want JJ to see how gross she was with her messy hair, stuffy nose and endless sneezing. 

JJ clearly looked better than she did earlier that week, Emily taking her place as token invalid in residence.

“I was going to watch tv,” JJ said, “I don’t think I could handle doing homework right now.”

“Oh I’ll go,” Emily said, taking the hint and moving to climb off the bed. JJ’s arm stuck out, grabbing her shoulder and stopping her. 

“No, Em,” JJ said, “I was wondering if you wanted to join me. ”

Oh. Emily felt her face break into a smile. She relaxed into the bed as JJ grabbed her laptop and set it between them, she pulled a fluffy sky-blue blanket, and draped it over her legs, then over Emily’s. 

There was the noise of keys in the door, Emily felt herself pull away from JJ, leaning away from her friend as if they had been caught doing something wrong.

Penelope Garcia opened the door, followed shortly after by Derek Morgan who was carrying two large take out bowls of soup. 

“I knew I’d find you here,” Derek said, handing each of them a bowl. 

“How are my two sick dears?” Penelope cooed, as she collected a textbook from her desk. 

Emily tried to speak, coughing instead, and JJ reached out to steady her bowl, knowing that she would spill if she wasn’t careful. 

She decided not to acknowledge Derek's comment because even Emily didn’t know she would be in JJ’s room, how could he? 

“Just about as bad as you would expect,” JJ said. 

Emily nodded, recovering from her fit. 

“We won’t keep you!” Penelope replied, “we have a study date! Enjoy your movie night. Don’t forget to text me if either of you need anything tonight. I’ll be back late.”

Penelope looked at them and frowned. 

“I may quarantine away from you, I do not want to catch that.”

“Get some sleep, guys” Derek said. “You look like shit.” 

“Thanks,” Emily said, thick with sarcasm. 

“Toodles!” Penelope said as they left.

The door shut, and the two girls began to sip the soup. It was chicken noodle and had cooled to the perfect temperature. 

“What do you wanna watch?” JJ asked between spoonfuls. 

Emily thought about her comfort tv and movies: The X Files. Or Star Trek: The Voyage Home (the one with the whales, exclusively, because she finds it silly and always makes her feel better). They were so nerdy. She couldn’t look JJ in the eye and reveal how much of a nerd she was. 

“I’m not sure,” she said instead, “Did you have something in mind?”

“I usually watch cooking shows,” JJ said, “To be honest. Or Gilmore Girls, Parks and Rec, or-”

JJ stopped herself. 

“Or what?” Emily prodded.

“Twilight ,” JJ admitted. 

Emily laughed.

“I haven’t seen it,” Emily commented, “I missed that phase I guess.”

“Oh you have to,” JJ said, getting excited, “It’s fantastic. And bad. It’s both at once. I was team Edward.”

Emily knew that was the vampire; she didn’t live under a rock, she just hadn’t actually seen the films. 

JJ began to babble, between coughs, about how as a kid she read each book as they came out, and even had a poster of the cast on her wall. Emily simply basked in her company and the excitement of watching something she cared about. 

Emily found herself cuddled up next to JJ, eating their soup and watching Twilight .

Between the warmth of JJ’s bed, the soothing soup and finally relaxing, Emily suddenly felt slightly better. Maybe taking a break to recover was actually a good thing. 

Emily almost laughed at the thought that it only took a case of bronchitis to get her in JJ’s bed. 

As the movie wore on, Emily’s exhaustion, and full stomach overtook her. The two girls wrapped in a blanket made it quickly warm and comforting, and as Bella discovered that Edward was a vampire, Emily felt her eyelids drooping. 

She tried to fight the feeling, but soon, Emily was fast asleep next to JJ. 

 ———

Emily woke up, hours later, in the dark with another blanket wrapped around her, JJ’s laptop nowhere in sight and no memory of anything she had just watched.

JJ was curled up into her side and was snoring quietly. 

Emily stiffened, at the reality of her current situation. She needed to relax or she would wake JJ up. Her back was to the wall, and JJ’s prone body blocked her exit. 

Her mind moved a mile a minute. JJ must’ve put away the laptop and given her another blanket, chosen not to wake Emily up. She wanted to sleep in the same bed.

What did this mean? Did JJ want to sleep next to her? Did JJ like her?

She thought hard about this, but she knew there was no way this was romantic . This must just be how close, female friendships went. Emily’s feelings for JJ were clouding her judgment. 

Emily was never invited to sleepovers, or had any close girl friends before, this is probably just what she was missing out on. 

God, she thought, maybe it’s good that nobody liked me. I would have caught feelings and made it weird. Just like I’m doing right now. 

Emily examined JJ’s face, which was only inches from her own. Gazing at each freckle, her long light brown eyelashes, her perfect eyebrows. Her pink lips were slightly parted, brealths coming out softly.

JJ shifted closer, as she, in her sleep, was probably moving toward Emily’s warmth unconsciously. 

Emily closed her eyes and basked in that moment. 

Before she knew it, JJ rolled around onto her other side, and Emily was left staring at the back of her blonde head. 

Missing the warmth, Emily tugged the blanket further around her shoulders. 

Emily looked around JJ’s darkened room, at the empty bed across the room. Penelope, true to her word, was elsewhere. For a second, Emily wondered whose bed she was sleeping in, but the strong urge to cough overtook her, distracting her from that train of thought. 

She rolled onto her back, coughing into her elbow, trying to stifle them so that she did not wake JJ. Unfortunately, the coughs kept coming, and Emily found herself struggling to breathe. She sat up, and before she knew what was happening, JJ was awake and sitting next to her with a comforting hand on her back, and Emily’s inhaler in hand.

“Hey you’re ok,” JJ whispered, running her hand up and down her back, “It’s ok baby.”

Emily tried to catch her breath, taking her medicine and trying to hold it into her lungs, before coughing again. Her entire body shook with them, and it brought forth the aching that permeated her entire entire body.

The coughs slowed, and she fell back into JJ, whose arms wrapped around her as she made soothing noises.

“You ok?” JJ asked, her own voice still sounding a bit hoarse.

Emily nodded, whimpering, and JJ handed her a water bottle. Emily thought for a second before taking it, knowing that she had already caught JJ’s sickness anyways. 

JJ’s strong arms wrapped around her, supporting her limp frame as she drank water and calmed back down, before moving away to let Emily lay back down.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” JJ said, “You were out halfway through the first movie and I knew you definitely needed the rest.”

Emily nodded, bracing for JJ to ask her to leave, but that didn’t come. 

“How are you feeling?” JJ asked. 

“Better,” Emily croaked. “My lungs still hurt.” 

“Do you still have a fever?” JJ asked, moving her hand to feel Emily’s forehead.

Emily closed her eyes at the gentle touch. 

“You’re hot,” JJ said, tutting at ther.

“Don’t you know it, babe,” Emily said, without thinking. 

Her eyes shot open, and she began to stutter, trying to backtrack what she said. JJ began to laugh.

“Miss Prentiss is cocky when she’s feverish,” JJ said, grinning at her.

Emily felt herself blush, but hoped JJ would take that as her fever and not her embarrassment. 

“It’s late, Em,” JJ said, “Go back to sleep.”

There it was. An invitation to continue sharing her bed. Emily relaxed, closing her eyes. 

This time, she didn’t quickly fall asleep, finding herself feeling tense in JJ’s bed, not wanting to do anything that would be seen as suspicious. 

Was she lying too close? Was she moving too much? Was she allowed to cuddle up to JJ? Did girls cuddle with each other?

Over Thanksgiving weekend last year, when she visited the Morgans with Derek, she and he shared his childhood bed. It was not like this, with the two of them fighting for blankets, kicking each other, and grumbling like siblings. Then, Emily didn’t feel this fluttering in her stomach or the desire to sniff the other persons hair. Well, Derek barely had any hair to sniff.

Emily forced herself to relax, to take as deep breaths as her lungs could manage and to try to fall back asleep. 

Some time passed, with Emily breathing slightly congested breaths in and out, as JJ tossed and turned a bit, moving around to get comfortable. 

Emily faded in and out of consciousness, right on the verge of sleep when movement on the bed told her that JJ had rolled again, and was now facing her. She could sense that JJ was looking at her, but didn’t open her eyes to confirm, still verging on sleep. 

She must have assumed that Emily was fast asleep, because the other girl turned to face Emily, and did something that Emily didn’t expect, nor knew exactly what to do with. 

JJ had kissed Emily’s forehead, softly, and Emily’s sleep deprived, feverish brain was not sure if it had actually happened, or if she had hallucinated. 

It took everything in Emily to not react, forcing her eyes closed and her body still, keeping her breathing steady. then rolled onto her side as if nothing had happened. 

Emily didn’t have the capacity to process the kiss, or the rush of emotions it conjured, so she decided that it was simply a figment of her imagination. 

Both girls fell asleep shortly after.

———

The second time Emily woke in JJ’s bed, the sun was up and the room was bathed in golden light. Emily felt warm and safe, and compared to the previous day, her body wasn’t aching as much. Emily opened her eyes and found that she was not only laying face to face with a sleeping JJ, but their limbs were tangled, as both of them had apparently decided to cuddle the other in their sleep.

Emily’s legs were wrapped up in JJ’s, her right leg between JJ’s, and the blonde’s arm was thrown casually around Emily’s shoulder, holding her close. 

This time, Emily didn’t panic, and relished the embrace of JJ. She knew that she wasn’t likely to get a chance to be this close to her again, without the excuse of a fever, so she wasn’t going to ruin it. 

Despite her best efforts, JJ’s eyes blinked open, as if sensing that Emily was awake. 

Emily pulled away, yawning, attempting to untangle their limbs.

“Why hello there,” JJ whispered, giggling at her. 

“Hi,” Emily whispered, smiling back at JJ.

“You look a lot better,” JJ commented, reaching out and fixing Emily’s bangs for her. 

“I feel better,” she said, “Less like I’m on the verge of death.”

“We can’t have you dying, Em,” she replied, “Who else would I cuddle with?”

Emily smiled at her.

 JJ sat up, stretching, revealing a slip of her lower back as the hem of her sweater rose above her waist. Emily did the same, sitting crossed legged in her bed, still wrapped in blankets despite the warmth of the room. JJ was lucky and her bed was near the radiator, keeping them toasty warm despite the chilled fall air. 

Emily peeked outside, watching fall leaves fly through the sky, patterning the courtyard with a blanket of leaves. JJ stood, put on her slippers, and took a drink of water, before offering it to Emily. 

Taking the water bottle, Emily sipped it awkwardly, completely unsure what to do with herself. All her experiences being in someone else’s bed had usually also involved her leaving quickly after, or at least in the morning before the other woke up. Now, Emily was watching JJ fuss with her hair in the mirror in the golden light of day.

“I’m starving,” JJ said, “What time is it?”

Emily grabbed JJ’s phone, seeing the time. It was 6:30am, long before she ever normally woke up. She must have fallen asleep earlier than she thought. 

“Cafs aren’t open yet,” Emily said, “It’s only 6:30.” 

“Do you like omelettes?” JJ asked.

———

Fifteen minutes later, Emily was seated in the tiny dorm kitchen at the end of their floor, wrapped in a blanket, with another steaming cup of tea in her hands, watching JJ flip an omelette in a pan.

Apparently JJ is one of the few people to use the kitchen—besides Emily and her cookies—to use the kitchen for more than instant noodles and pizza pockets. 

She had eggs in the fridge, and diced frozen vegetables in the freezer, and quickly whipped up a delicious breakfast for the two of them in minutes, chatting the entire time. 

“Oooh,” JJ said as she pulled out her carton of eggs, “I should get some apple cider. Someone’s got a massive jug in here and I’m dying for some.”

“I’ve never liked apple cider,” Emily said, taking a gulp of her tea. 

The hot tea—and her doctor prescribed medicine—was clearing her sinuses and Emily felt like she was breathing fully for the first time in days. 

“That’s impossible,” JJ said, matter-of-factly, as she cracked an egg into a bowl. “It’s the best thing ever.”

Emily shrugged, “I’ve only had it once and it wasn’t that good.”

“If I wasn’t a good person, I would steal this person’s cider and make you try it,” JJ said, gesturing with a spatula. 

JJ turned and busied herself with adding the veggies to the pan, sautéing them in butter and some seasoning. 

“We should go to the fair, together,” JJ blurted, “I mean. All of us.”

“I’ve also never been to a fair,” Emily said with another shrug. “I have to remind you that I’ve barely lived in the US, and when I did, I was trapped in stuffy private schools.”

JJ gave her a look that, if it was from anyone else, would look pitying. 

“It’s decided,” JJ said, plopping the omelette onto Emily’s plate. “When you feel better, we’re going to the fair.”

“It’s a date.”

[starkeaton]

the adventure zone: graduation character list

Well, i accidentally deleted the original graduation character list post, so here i am making another one. Oops. And as always, if anyone has important details i should add then feel free to suggest them!

Here are all the characters introduced in episodes 1-25. Named characters only!

Also i can’t hide spoilers! So, um..... I can’t put spoilers on this one. If you need the version with spoilers try this version of the post that i made on the adventure zone subreddit but youre not missing out on much.

# -EPISODE 1- (19 characters)

Hieronymous Wiggenstaff (he/him): Head of the Hero/Villain school. at least 400 years old. wears shining blue armor with gold accents. also an elf. according to Tomas, he led the charge at the "battle of blood valley", brought the Kingdoms of Rickart and Dawnbreak to a peace treaty, and founded the school. a little boastful, a little prideful, [SPOILERS OMITTED], and overall a pretty good dude.

Higglemas Wiggenstaff (he/him): Head of the Sidekick/Henchperson annex, cranky old elf. has a dog named hero who shows no signs of anything strange at all, ever. 

Gary (he/him): friendly room gargoyle. pseudo-hivemind.

Groundsy (he/him): the groundskeeper. a pretty nice fellow. don't go in his shed.

Hernandez (he/him): beautiful centaur professor of animal handling.

Jimson (he/him): human battlegrounds trainer for sidekicks/henchpeople, world famous featherweight champion, wields a staff. married to crushman.

Crushman (he/him): silver dragonborn with a sickle, and self-described beefy boy! heavyweight blood champion married to jimson. never lost a match for 8 years. full name Frostus Crushman.

Rolandus Fontaine (he/him): former prince, son of deposed king, kind of an asshole, maybe. wears a cape (important detail)

Zana (she/her): "terrifying" tiefling villain sorcerer, friend of rolandus. barkept the test tavern in ep2

Rhodes (she/her): hero ranger, friend of rolandus.

Buckminster Eden (he/him): hero guy. son of "The Iron Lord". their dad is stronger than rolandus's dad. his wiki page says rogue so i think hes a rogue? i never caught that and ive listened more times than i wish i did

Leon (he/him): softspoken buff, bald "fighter" (although i dont remember any clarification on how exactly he fights), sidekick of buckminster, around 28. anyone else keep forgetting he's bald? i keep forgetting it. >!gets sorta-drafted into becoming a falcon for higglemas and so far hasn't done much else.!<

Rainer Michelle (she/her): cheerful villainous necromancer with a floating chair. also, her name is pronounced "rainier" despite not being confirmed as such? travis ships her with fitzroy.

Tomas (he/him): human man with "kind eyes" and a good (psychic???) memory. guidance counselor.

Stewart LeBoeuf (he/him): brawny human man. serves food. there is no joke here, i promise

Mulligan (he/him): teaches potions. mentioned but doesn't appear yet. and we're like 25 episodes in. maybe we'll see him someday

Germaine, Victoria, Rattles (he/him,she/her,???/???): Skeleton crew. They live in the training room i guess, and as a result can never die, because "no one dies in the training room!" (note: someone now HAS to die in the training room). also their races are never explicitly stated but i guess they're probably human? in episode 3 travis brings up something about how many bones are in "the human body" and at this point i think i'm looking too deep into this so i'll just forget about it and you probably should too.

# -EPISODE 2- (9 characters)

Riveau (he/him): halfling, blame-taking teacher.

Mimi (they/them): gnome sidekick who builds cool robot prosthetics

Bartholemus (he/him): owl aarakocra accountant teacher, known for being the best accountant in the land and having a face some might describe as "smoochable". very pro capitalist :’( hope he gets better

Ramos (she/her): goliath teacher of shieldwork. *

Dip (she/her): sidekick, half-orc twin of pip

Pip (she/her): hero, half-orc twin of dip

Festo (they/them): fairy with "beautiful gossamer wings", independent study teacher of magic, loves to party

Snippers (he/him?): Let me tell you my story about Snippers the magic crab. When Travis gave the list of animals that Griffin could choose as Fitzroy's familiar's current form, he listed crab near the start, and this gave me excitement. Now i knew that crab was pretty unlikely but god i hoped that he would choose it. When the list went on- Bat, Cat, Crab, Frog, Hawk, Lizard, Owl, Poisonous Snake, Fish, Rat, Raven, Seahorse, Spider or Weasel- I nearly lost hope. I was hoping so hard that Griffin would choose the crab, but i was ready to accept a non-crab familiar. It was just buried in that list. It wasn't the most useful animal and it was an obscure pick. And as Travis informed him that it didn't have to keep the form for the whole campaign, Griffin said those five words i wanted to hear so, so badly. "Well then it's a crab." Folks, I do not often react physically when something happens in media. But in that moment, i remember very clearly, i fist-pumped and yelled, "YES!!!!!!"

so anyway, Fitzroy has a crab.

Jackle (he/him): kenku teacher of sneakery. creepy dude. apparently knows something about argo? also his name is not spelled "jackal" for some reason. Also in later episodes theyve started calling him "The Jackle" for some reason??? *

# -EPISODE 3- (1 character)

Dakota (they/them): tavern instructor, clad in black/red leather. no race stated? probably human. *

# -EPISODE 4- (6 characters)

Gerry & Tom (she/her, he/him): shopkeepers at barns and nobles who seem to have very bad names. also constantly competing for customers? these guys got dropped faster than the heathcliff quests, which is honestly just sad.

Barb (she/her): the bartender. runs Springs Eternal in Last Hope. has a sweet seeing-eye hawk familiar. 

Jaryd Reginald (he/him): owner of Reginald Ore. Wants the workers to be held responsible for the damage caused by the xorn. (fun fact: originally i wrote down "Jerrod" because i wanted it to sound like a fantasy name, then realized it was probably "Jared" because theyre named after listeners, but i was pleased to find it confirmed that it's actually "Jaryd")

Candice (she/her): A Miner. thought those werent allowed in bars but, i guess not. Wants the mine owner to be held responsible for the xorn's damage.

Jade Johnson Esq. (she/her): lawyer.

# -EPISODE 5- (1 character)

Xorn: a big hungry gem eating guy from the plane of earth Low-Down Deep with 3 arms and 3 legs. why did travis just say "multi-armed" instead of specifying it was 3? who knows! Anyway it leaves

# -EPISODE 6- (3 characters)

Osric (he/him): the man, the myth, the bursar. finally shows up after being mentioned in episodes 2 and 4. he's an elf. 

breeze through the willows (she/her): Pegasus attacked by demons, lost her parents. introduced in ep1 but gets a name here so fuck it. also in ep>!16!< we find out shes a "white arabian pegasus" and i dont think thats a spoiler bc we shouldve really known it from the beginning

Sabor (he/him): Librarian/research teacher. also a TORTLE. Really good at recalling stuff, i guess. kinda reminds me of Tomas's memory thing but i'm sure that's just a coincidence... *

# -EPISODE 7- (1 character)

Mosh (he/him): The goliath blacksmith who welcomes argo into the unbroken chain. Also, and this is specific to the tumblr version of this post, all the characters with an * at the end of their descriptions are also members of the unbroken chain. if someone knows how to do spoilers on tumblr please tell me

# -EPISODE 8-

:)

# -EPISODE 9- (2 characters)

Eeiïäá#æ&éñn (pronounced like "Ian") (he/him?): an imp but without a shitty voice. also happens to not be violent. what a coincidence?

Terence (he/him): a chain devil with a real demonic name. minor boss of the imps. very convincing and very threatening. has the frightening ability to make you zone out during his fight

# -EPISODE 10- (2 characters)

Althea Song (she/her): elf with autumn-orange hair. representative from heroic oversight guild. i'd like to personally thank travis for spelling her name out.

Crabtree (she/her): Artificing teacher. Long gray hair with a long grey beard. no mentioned race, one might guess dwarf but that would be an assumption i suppose. also unbroken chain member, presumably the dwarf argo didn't recognize in episode 7.

# -EPISODE 11- (3 characters)

Marie (she/her): Grey-haired elf woman. She's the school's physician, i guess. Member of the unbroken chain.

Dendra Maplecourt (she/her): Fitzroy's mom. Has hot mint gum, i guess. She was mentioned earlier but i wasn't convinced she was a real person until this episode

Cool Gary (he/him): AYY ITS ME GARYR

# -EPISODE 12-

no new characters again!

# -EPISODE 13- (7 characters hhhyyyuu)

Kale (???/???): Head of the Placement Department, in charge of real world assignments. First mentioned in Ep4 but i missed that the last few times bc it is so brief. Gives exposition about missions i guess????? is that the only reason this chara cter exists

satyr thief (unnamed) (he/him): tries to rob thundermen, dies instantly

Ogre (he/him): teamed up with the satyr. his name is ogre.

Moon (he/him): A Sidekick. small pale sullen guy. no mentioned race. Why is there another FUCKING sidekick WE HAD ENOUGH hhhyuuuuuu

Deanna (she/her): A bigoted centaur with an obnoxious voice. Malwin the Strong's second in command.

Malwin the Strong (she/her): Leader of the centaurs of the scarlet woods. Wants to appease the spirit of the scarlet woods so that thecentaurs of the scarlet woods will be protected in the scarlet woods. Had a relationship with Arturas in the past but their clashes are currently known to get pretty heated.

Arturas (he/him): Leader of the Centaurs of the Valley, i guess. Had a relationship with Malwin. Centaur. Did i mention centaur? i cant think of anything else about this character

# -EPISODE 14- (2 characters)

Calhain (he/him): Human wizard, Malwin's magical advisor. Kind of an amateur wizard in a job high above his skill level. Graduated Wigginstaff's as a hero.

Spirit of the Scarlet Woods: A spirit who requires sacrifice in order to keep Malwin's herd safe and prosperous. Not keen on dubiously canonical combos, i guess. i wouldnt be either. also apparently the sacrifice depends on personal value, not how much value it has to the spirit.

# -EPISODE 15- (2 characters)

Sylvia Nite (she/her): Fitzroy's magic theory teacher at knight night school, who he turned into a catfish by accident. oops!

Chaos (they/them, maybe more): Presumably a deity, gave Fitz his powers and wants him to give in to his chaotic desires. (physical desc: 9 foot tall, iridescent 'mother of pearl' skin, pure white eyes, fine burgundy cloak with gold/onyx lining. their physical form beyond that seems to change every time they show up.)

# -EPISODE 16-

none -w-

# -EPISODE 17-

some demins happened. the big dudes are called "Pit Fiends" and the armored demon ladies are called "Erinyes", by the way. that was incredibly hard for me to figure out the first time, especially without headphones, i thought travis was saying "pig feet" and i just could not discern what the other things were

# -EPISODE 18- (6 characters)

snow on the mountain: shire horse pegasus

storm at sea: peruvian paso pegasus, vehement defender of The Guardian. doesn't have a goofy voice.. but he could have....

thaw of the spring: a winged horse

night of no clouds: a winged hhorse

The Guardian: "An ancient and powerful being that guards the unknown forest." Has protected the flock from demons for many many years. apparently is the voice that was talking to our firbolg in episode 1?

Grey, the Demon Prince (he/him): wants to cause a war, originally wanted to kill hiero and higgs, forces the heroes to build an army to fight his. As "Fauxronimous", he has skin the *color and pattern of* (but not necessarily made of) slate splashed with liquid, pointed ears, sharp teeth, shining eyes, horns of unspecified shape. 12 fucking feet tall. wonder if the slate-looking skin is related to garys. plot twist detected? Also i recently looked at the episode descriptions and found out his name is spelled "Gray", but really does it truly matter?

# -EPISODE 19- (2 characters)

Shabree Keene (she/her): Argo's mom, killed on the Mariah, possibly by the Commodore. Long auburn hair, green eyes. Mentioned earlier but described here, so fuck it.

**Thomas** (he/him): Argo's first mate on the Mariah, as the Kraken, in his chaos-dream. may or may not actually exist.

# -EPISODE 20- (1 character)

The Commodore (he/him): Reknowned hero of the seas, military regalia, great naval hero, presumably responsible for the death of Shabree Keene. No mentioned race. Seriously, they never mention this guy's race. The only thing described about him is how he's dressed and his evil smile. Does that mean he's human? Elf? Dwarf??? Who knows! maybe it just doesnt matter. 

# -EPISODE 21-

none

# -EPISODE 22-

not any of them. not any.

# -EPISODE 23- (1 character)

Ozymondelius (sp???) (it/its): A warforged teacher who just so happens to like war or something? i guess its in the name. only mentioned in this episode, doesnt show up yet.

# -EPISODE 24-

they have a fight in the training room but nobody dies :\\ maybe next time. also no new characters. pog

# -EPISODE 25- (4 characters)

Gherkin (he/him): Tall lankier skeleton, has a scimitar and a merkin, which is a pubic wig... and he wears a jerkin? which i guess is a kind of coat? also i think hes mute 

Tibia (she/her?) : Shorter skeleton with gold teeth, and long canines. i think both of the skeletons are mute actually.

The Lich King aka Gordy (he/him): Rainer's dad. Commands armies of the undead. lives in The Crypt. described as a hooded, skull-faced man with intricate black lines on his face, but changes to a shaved-head man with dark skin and vetiligo. Abandoned as a babby, raised by traveling parents, had necromancy powers, took Rainier in. Not actually very scary at all i don't know why he did the creepy laugh. Kind of a warm fatherly figure actually. hm. also people are speculating Gordy might be short for Gordita and his parents are maybe supposed to be lup and barry but THAT S JUST A THEORY.

our firbolg's father (he/him): A firbolg who lived by the code and was there when our firbolg was banished. Came to respect our firbolg's interest in a new way of life, in his final moments.

TOTAL: 72 NPCS! (well, including 2 extra PCs, i guess.)

Average: 2.88 NPCs per episode.

i was gonna not include the bone-PCs and have it be 69 but our firbolg's dad was just too important to not respect with a spot on the list.

anyway as always make sure to smack me with a blunt object if i forgot any characters!!!!!

[lilyvandersteen]

Surprise in Store

This is a short meet-not-so-cute dedicated to @teddyshoney​ for the Glee Potluck Big Bang Fic Exchange, based on the Tumblr prompt “You wore a red shirt to Target and got mistaken for an employee”. I hope you like it, sweetie :-)

A big thank you, as always, to my wonderful beta @hkvoyage​

Also on AO3 and FF.net.

~~~~~~

“Hey, you!”

Blaine, who was comparing two varieties of coin cell batteries, winced at the shrill yelling. He hastened to put the smaller pack back on the shelf and get away from the loud lady.

A hand grabbed his arm and yanked him back. “Hey! Don’t you run away! My daughter just vomited over there. Clean it up before someone walks through it!”

Blaine gaped at the woman, struck speechless.

“Well, don’t just stand there, you moron! Get to it! Seriously, the idiots they have working here, it’s unbelievable!”

Oh. Right. Maybe it hadn’t been Blaine’s brightest idea to put on a red polo shirt to go to the Target store. Easy enough to mistake him for an employee.

He looked around for an actual Target team member, and saw one approaching with a cleaning cart. As the man got closer to the pool of vomit, though, he went green around the gills and gagged.

Blaine grimaced in sympathy, and hastened to go help him.

“And now you need TWO people to do one man’s job? Ugh, I’ll report you to your manager if you don’t pick up some speed. I need that car battery from the top shelf, one of you get that for me STAT!!”

Blaine whispered to the Target employee, “Go get her what she wants, I can handle things here.”

The guy stared at him, perplexed, but a loud sigh and someone’s shoe tapping a don’t-keep-me-waiting rhythm made him shrug and hurry to the bitchy customer to fetch her the item she needed.

She snatched it from his hands with only “About time!” as thanks and stalked away, her daughter trailing her at a much slower pace.

Blaine, in the meantime, had mopped up the mess using the employee’s equipment, and was now disinfecting the floor with a microfibre cloth he’d drenched in cleaning vinegar.

“Thank you!” the Target employee said. “I don’t know why you’d help me out when you’re clearly NOT a colleague of mine, but I’m so grateful you dealt with that. Ugh, I was about to hurl too.”

Blaine grinned. “I could tell. And you’re welcome.”

He got up from the floor and put the cloth back on the cart. “Is there anywhere I could wash my hands with soap, though? Don’t want to get whatever bug…”

His brain scrambled and his voice trailed off as he really looked at the guy from up close for the first time.

Oh wow. Hello gorgeous!

The Target employee, whose name was Kurt according to the badge he wore, was absolutely stunning. Long and lithe, with mesmerising eyes and a face made for magazine covers. He was also… moving away from Blaine? And talking…

Pay attention, Blaine!

“It’s this way,” Kurt said. “Customers aren’t allowed there, but I doubt anyone will notice. You look like one of us.”

Blaine chuckled. “Yep. Which is why I got an earful from that rude customer.”

Kurt sighed. “I’m SO sorry about that!”

“Oh, you’re not the one who should be sorry,” Blaine told him.

“She’s such a Karen,” Kurt said. “Thinks the whole world belongs to her and everyone is there just to do her bidding. Ugh, I hate people like that. And why would she bring her daughter here when the girl is sick? Who knows what she’s touched all over the store. Now we’re all going to have a stomach bug tomorrow, and I can’t afford to fall ill.”

He led Blaine into the back room and threw away the soiled water and cloths, after which he washed his own hands, too.

“I’m going to do that about a million more times today,” Kurt muttered. “My dad’s got cancer. He really doesn’t need a stomach bug on top of it.”

“How much longer ‘till your shift is over?” Blaine asked.

“Half an hour.”

“I’ll stick with you and do whatever needs doing, so that you won’t have to touch a thing,” Blaine promised. “And, um, the coffee shop where I’m working is looking for another barista, so maybe you could apply there instead? We get rude customers too, of course, but you’re always behind the counter. Plus, the owner is really friendly and plies us with baked goods throughout our shifts.”

Kurt looked as though he seriously considered it. “That sounds nice. Though fattening. And you’re nice too, to help me out like this. Why on earth would you? You don’t actually work here, you’re a customer. You could have just told her that.”

Blaine shrugged. “I like helping people. It’s the best way to make friends. Well, not rude people like that woman, obviously.”

Kurt threw his head back and laughed. “Yep. Can’t imagine her being friends with anyone. Frenemies only.”

Just then, another guy in a red polo shirt came in, and Blaine hid himself behind the door so as not to get Kurt into trouble. “Kurt, why aren’t you out there in the store? You’re still on the clock!”

“Just cleaned up vomit in the battery aisle,” Kurt said, pointing at the cleaning cart.

The manager wrinkled his nose. “Ugh. Thanks for dealing with that.”

“I hope I don’t get whatever that girl had,” Kurt grimaced.

The manager’s eyes widened. “Oh. Yes. You know, Kurt, maybe you’d better clock out now and go home. And if you’re under the weather tomorrow, just stay at home, please. That sort of bug is very contagious, and I really don’t need half of my staff falling out sick.”

A disbelieving smile stole over Kurt’s face. “Really? Oh, thanks!”

The manager had his back to Kurt by now, and was checking something on the computer, and paid no more attention to him.

Kurt grabbed his coat and Blaine’s hand, and tugged him along with a cheerful, “See you on Monday, then!” to his manager.

Before Blaine knew it, they were both sitting in a booth in the coffee shop where he worked, and Kurt was filling in a job application Blaine’s boss had handed him. She’d also winked at them both, and whispered to Blaine far too loudly, “That the boyfriend, then? I approve. Very handsome!”

Blaine had wanted to sink through the floor, but Kurt had just giggled and started filling in the form.

Huh. So does that mean he doesn’t mind being seen as my boyfriend, then? Do I stand a chance?

He got his answer when they left the coffee shop again.

“So… Seeing as I don’t have work tomorrow… Want to go to the cinema tonight?” Kurt asked.

Blaine grinned from ear to ear. “Like a date?”

Kurt winked at him. “Like a date. I even know a nice place where we could have pizza first.”

“That sounds amazing. Lead the way!”

Over a pizza dinner, he found out that Kurt was as interesting as he was gorgeous. The conversation flowed naturally, as though they’d known each other for ages, and soon, Blaine was laughing until his stomach hurt from all the Target anecdotes Kurt told him, and sharing a few coffee shop stories of his own, and then nodding and chiming in when Kurt talked about being bullied.

They ended up talking for so long that they missed the showing at the cinema, but neither of them minded. They grabbed a scoop of ice-cream at Kurt’s favourite ice cream parlour and walked to the park, still talking about anything and everything.

“You’ve got a bit of…” Kurt pointed at Blaine’s face.

Blaine dabbed his mouth with a paper napkin. “Is it gone?”

Kurt shook his head. “It’s more to the left.”

Blaine tried again, but from Kurt’s expression, missed the spot by a mile. He got an idea, and grinned cheekily. “Well… You could always… Kiss it away?”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “You are so cheesy.”

Still, that was not a no, and Blaine grinned wider.

Kurt wiped the ice cream off Blaine’s cheek with his own napkin, and then gave him a feather-light kiss in the same spot. “There.”

“Thank you.”

That evening, when he got home after a wonderful first date and floated into the living room still high on cloud nine, his mother asked, “So did you pop into the Target for those batteries?”

Blaine face-palmed. With all that had happened at the store, he’d totally forgotten to buy the batteries he’d come for.

“Tomorrow, Mom. I promise.”

“Set a reminder on your phone, Mr. Scatterbrain.”

“I will,” Blaine promised.

As he did so, he added a note. Don’t wear a red shirt.

[eksperimentgaj]

Day 6 - Have you ever been to a competition? If yes, describe a little your experience, if not, what competition would you like to attend?

So far I’ve been to Wisła (SGP 2017, SCoC 2019), Kranj (SCoC 2018), Oslo (SCoC 2018, WC 2019), Planica (WC 2019, was supposed to be there in 2020 as well, but corona happened  🙃), Szczyrk (ladies’ SCoC 2019) and Lahti (WC 2020).

Wisła in 2017 was the competition I chose to go quite spontaneously. It was only after half a season I was into ski jumping, didn’t really know anyone in the fandom. I managed to convince my brother and friend (who is not really into sports) to go with me. I hope they had a good time 😀

In Wisła we’ve met few people (with whom I sadly have no contact, I’m not good at this 😟) to fangirl with. Got to sing national anthem twice, as team Poland and Dawid Kubacki won the team and individual comps 😀 One thing I remember very clearly from after the quails, when I lost my group and was trying to locate them, saw two girls taking a photo together next to me. After a moment I realized they were not two girls, it was a girl and Anders Fannemel 😅 Well, I judged from height only 🙃

I’m glad it was not too hot, considering it was July.

old phone, sorry for shit quality

Kranj 2018 was the first time I was flying a plane ever and also my first time traveling abroad alone. Already in Slovenia I met two girls from tumblr sj fandom. I got to see the town, which is very charming and the hill (obviously first journey destination, when I had some time alone). The comps itself made me fell in love with CoC, such a nice atmosphere, ski jumpers walking among the crowd and easily accessible. Oh, and I’m visible on a transmission from that comp 😂 Before going to Slovenia, I had to buy a new phone, as in Wisła the old one trolled me with its battery and turned off in the middle of a qualis, when I was taking photos 🙃 Funny thing was that in between the rounds there was a little archery contest for chosen fans from the crowd watching competition. And, considering it was CoC, there were quite a lot of people. You can really tell that Slovenians enjoy sj.

Also. Locate Domen’s car 😂

 Going to CoC in Oslo in September of 2018 was possible thanks to the fact we were already visiting family’s friend who lives in Norway (yes, I suggested the date, luckily it was also this weekend the plane tickets were cheaper). Only saw one comp, on Saturday. Sadly we missed girls jumping, as we needed like 3 hours to get to Oslo and it was simply too early (instead I followed text transmission while on a train to Oslo). When we arrived to Midtstuen station, obviously we took wrong route to the hill and somehow, through the woods, got to the smaller hills 😂 Anyway, we found the right hill quickly. The comp was not attracting almost any interest at all. Apart from my brother and me, ski jumpers and their families, there were barely a few people. Sometimes bikers would stop and watch for a moment but as the water break start, they would go. The barriers were prepared but not used at all, you could just walk wherever and nobody seemed to care. Nice. The café did not sell all the coffee and waffles they had prepared, so this lady was walking between  people and offering them for free 😀 I cannot eat waffles and my brother didn’t want any (why?) so we politely declined.

It was the first comp of Andreas Stjernen after an injury break, he did nice finishing third. And also gave me a weird look when I was shouting something in Polish to my brother, as he passed me by 😂 I got to see flower ceremony standing right next to Joakim Aune 🤩 And by a coincidence, during the second round we stood behind Marius Lindvik’s… family, I guess? Daniel was there too, not jumping himself but cheering on the ones who did.

WC in Oslo in 2019 I described earlier. I can add that on Saturday there was a snowfall since morning, I’ve almost froze my fingers off (stupidly sensitive hands). Also – seeing a bunch of Norwegians traveling at 9 am to watch cross-country skiing, leaving metro station and already getting drunk, dancing to party music being blasted out of the nearby windows – quite something.

photo from Sunday, with metro station mentioned

Planica 2019 was my very first time seeing ski flying live! Again with Slovenian crew. But because I’m an idiot who did not book place to stay at early enough, had to travel to Kranjska Gora every day from Kranj (like an hour and a half with a bus if I remember correctly) 🙃 Missed evening attractions of Kranjska that way 😅 But back to sj, got to see some really nice flights, personal best results, Ryoyu’s record of Letalnica (holy shit, the excitement that went through the crowd!), last jump of Robert Kranjec’s career (one of childhood faves ❤️),  team Poland’s first ski flying win, Žiga Jelar playing with his band and much more 😀 From personal experience I don’t recommend forgetting sunscreen to Planica. Ended up with sunburn in a shape of sunglasses and a beanie 🙃 And I was really surprised how hot it was in full sun on the stands. It truly turned from snowy winter on Thursday to full spring on Sunday. Felt like spending two seasons there in just four days 😀

 CoCs in Szczyrk and Wisła in 2019 were basically joint events, same week in two nearby towns. First day I went to girls’ event alone, on the next Julia @lewanarta​ joined me. And what sort of sj trip would that be without a fuck up by me? This time, apart from not having courage to approach Virág, who jumped in Szczyrk twice to fifth place (pleasure to see), I could not watch last jumps of second comp and flower ceremony because at the time I was throwing up in the toilet of a bar by the hill 🙃 Took wrong backpack in which I had no painkillers and got surprised by period 🙃🙃🙃 But until that, watching jumpers from the so called ‘river tribune’ was a very pleasant experience.

Also hill in Szczyrk is the very first I was to (and at), in 2005, before it was rebuild to its current state.

Having in memory SGP in Wisła two years earlier, the chill CoC comp without crowds was a nice change. Obviously, it’s Poland, there were still people, but not as many. First day was rainy… But only between rounds and after a comp. And as always, my job was following the comp with text transmission on my phone, while Julia was asking for autographs and taking photos 😀 I’m always trying to follow results during watching live, but it’s almost impossible with all these distractions 😅 And how nice it is to finish day spent on watching ski jumping live with watching ski jumping on tv – Courchevel was the same day 😀

 And finally WC Lahti 2020, the last thing before everything went nuts because of corona. Again with Julia, we’ve planned for a while to go to Finland. First sj related experience we had still in Warsaw – it turned out we’re on the same flight as team Poland. Later, at Helsinki airport, we’ve waited for a bag together with Norwegian xcs and noco teams as well 😀 we’ve been at the Lahti Ski Games since very morning as I wanted to see noco sj part, so we’ve had plenty of time to see the place, small hills, tracks, big hills… Surprisingly, there was no snow, apart from the artificial one produced for the events. Local people seemed a little bit sad because it’s usually naturally snowy around the time of Lahti Ski Games. It also turned out that we were to the 1000th individual comp in World Cup’s history. We’ve met Finnish Tumblr crew and I had an unexpected encounter as among them was a girl that I’ve briefly met in Wisła in 2017! World is a small place, isn’t it? And at the end we’ve had photo together with God of Wind himself. Last occasion, couldn’t let it pass. Oh, and I got a bouquet from flower ceremony 😀 No idea whose, it was given to me by Austrian staff member after team comp 😅

Uf. That was a long one. Congrats and thanks if you’ve read it all ❤️ I’m physically unable to write ‘a little’ 😅

[impracticaldemon]

Graylu Week: Chapter 4 Too Cold to Hold, Part I

fanfiction by impracticaldemon Prompt:  Fragrance (written for Graylu Day, only 20 days late) Words: ~2600 | also on FFnet and AO3 under impracticaldemon

Summary:  Gray and Lucy are slowly but surely working out life as a couple. This story follows some of the prompts of Graylu Fluff Week (Feb 2017) and some of the prompts of Graylu Week (Sep 2017).  In Chapter 4, a romantic dinner in a snow-bound chalet-hotel becomes fraught with both conversational pitfalls and angry snow spirits.

Author's Note: With apologies for the delay and hoping that you'll enjoy chapter 4 of this combined Graylu Fluff Week and Graylu Week story!  With particular thanks to @nonochuu for all of her support and gentle nudges. Thank you also to those who have commented, reblogged, bookmarked and just generally sent encouragement my way on FFnet, AO3 and tumblr. I'm grateful to all of my readers.

Chapter 4—Too Cold to Hold, Part I Prompt: Fragrance (for Graylu Day)

Gray had eventually put on pajama bottoms and a fitted t-shirt that was either midnight blue or black (whichever it was, Lucy had approved). Not that he had wanted to "get dressed," as he'd put it, but even he had felt that boxer shorts and nothing else probably wasn't appropriate attire in which to fetch their dinner. His girlfriend had forborne to comment that his loungewear might not be exactly what the kitchen staff had in mind either.

He returned with several dishes, ranging from steaming soup to dome-covered entrées to some kind of towering cake and cream and fruit concoction that was clearly a special dessert. The warm part of the meal was carefully balanced on two large trays, but the dessert—in all of its frothy, bedizened glory—was being held aloft by ice.

"They were pretty impressed with my carrying capacity," he commented, as Lucy took one of the trays so that he could negotiate the doorway. "Plus the way I could keep the dessert chilled."

"No kidding." Lucy was laying out their dinner on the low coffee table with rapid efficiency. She nodded approvingly at the dessert, which Gray left sitting on a table of ice in the window embrasure.

"Yeah, they offered me a job waitering, if wizarding didn't work out." His mouth quirked into a smile. "Don't worry, I told them that my carrying skills were okay, but that my patience for obnoxious customers wasn't the best."

Lucy pointed him to one cushion and took the other, folding her legs under her and sniffing appreciatively at the soup. "Itadakimasu," she murmured politely, word and action somehow coming naturally in this lovely room, with a fine meal in front of her. (1)

Gray looked surprised—the guildhall wasn't exactly famous for good manners with food, and he had fallen out of the habit a long time ago. And yet… dim memories of childhood—first with his parents and then Ur—resurfaced with surprising clarity, and he automatically copied Lucy. It was strange: in almost any other setting, or with any other person, he might have resented the formality—or at least the memories evoked—but here and with Lucy it was just right. His mind skittered over the thought that this is how one might behave in one's own home with one's own family.

"This is really good!" Lucy smiled at Gray with unfeigned pleasure. "Oh, and I was about to say—I'm quite sure that your waitering skills would be just fine if you weren't forced to wear a dress." Her smile turned a little roguish, as other scenes evidently replaced the dress episode in her mind's eye. "In fact, I'll bet you'd be quite an attraction in a butler's outfit—or maybe just the pants and a bow-tie?"

"Uh-huh." Gray reddened and suddenly felt a need to concentrate on his soup. When he looked up again, he saw Lucy looking at him quizzically, her own cheeks a little pink. "It's just kind of weird," he told her, "hearing that from you instead of, you know, Mira or Cana. Or Erza, when she's gotten way too into one of our jobs."

Lucy nodded. "I know what you mean. But for what it's worth, I have thought it before. And with Mira and Cana, it's mostly impersonal. Or at least it applies to everyone—guys, girls, whoever they need to dress up at any given moment. Or just for fun." She paused, and then added darkly: "Their fun, I mean."

Gray switched to his main course, smiling when Lucy glared momentarily into space. She was obviously contemplating past injuries. To be fair, Fairy Tail's loveliest and most notorious hostesses did seem to derive a bit too much pleasure out of interfering with the lives of others. Mind you, he wasn't going to complain about having seen Lucy in a variety of bikinis, bunny suits, and gowns—but he wasn't going to comment on it either. At least, not right this minute.

Loke probably would though… He quickly tried to get his mind off that train of thought. No sense in being jealous of Lucy's bond with the guy who just happened to be the leader of the celestial spirits of the Zodiac. Well—no point in dwelling on it, anyway. He and Loke would just have to reach an understanding about grabby hands not being okay. No problem.

"Gray?"

"…Sorry Lucy!" Gray was startled to realize that there was frost crystallizing in the air above his hands. "Um…" He glanced down, relieved to see that he was still dressed. That meant he'd only been out of it for a couple of moments.

"I guess you've had to deal with the dynamic duo for even longer than I have—is that it?" Lucy's tone was completely sympathetic. She knew that Gray wasn't the best with being pushed into things, although he tended to be a team player.

Gray wavered between an easy lie and a complicated truth. "Kind of?"

Sympathy faded to concern. Lucy set down her chopsticks. She used chopsticks or metal cutlery with equal facility, and her familiarity with all sorts of food and customs periodically reminded her team-mates that her upbringing had been that of a pampered—if lonely—little girl. Gray recognized that his mind was going off on a tangent again.

"Okay, you'll have to explain 'kind of'," Lucy said firmly.

"I wasn't actually thinking about Cana and Mira just then, but it's true that I have had to deal with them for a long time. I mean… they're not much older than I am, so I've known them since we were all kids. Hard to believe now, right?"

Lucy regarded him thoughtfully. "Is this one of those 'better not to go there just now' moments? Or one those 'better get it over with' moments?"

Gray scrubbed at the back of his head as a substitute for stripping off his t-shirt. Although maybe Lucy wouldn't mind. He forced himself to talk. "You're very attractive, in a lot of ways, to a lot of people. It's one reason it took so long to tell you how I felt—feel."

"Okay…" Lucy frowned slightly at him. "So it's one of those 'figure out what I'm thinking because I'm too embarrassed to tell you' moments." She took a mouthful of food and chewed thoughtfully.

"Yeah, you're right. Pretty lame." Gray finished the rest of his entrée, barely managing to stay on the right side—that is, the polite side—of Natsu-speed.

"You always seemed much too indifferent—or too cool—to be really jealous of anyone," Lucy mused. "Except that I understand about Natsu."

Gray threw up his hands in surrender. "Fine, I was just thinking that I might want to have a chat with my buddy Loke." He shrugged. "And I have definitely had my moments of jealousy."

Lucy's face was unusually hard to read. Then she gave him an apologetic half-smile. "I guess there are just still… things… to talk about, right? Or to sort out, or something. I figured—the two of you have always been friends, you know?"

"I know. And being friends means that I know how he thinks."

"Yeah, I think most us of know that," said Lucy, a little dryly. "He's probably just as interested in you as he is in me. Not that I really know—I try not to, um, pry too much. I mean, he was seeing Aries—or so I thought—but…"

"Yeah, exactly. But…" Gray shook his head. "Honestly, it was just a stray thought. Loke's just a little too 'hands-on' for my taste."

"Or maybe it's the way he periodically makes passes at me?" Lucy inquired, appearing to relax now that she knew what was wrong. Her eyes were bright and cheerful again.

"Right, it could be that." Impulsively, Gray took Lucy's hand across the corner of the table. "And it's been such a pain, since I've been trying not to make passes at you."

"Oh? Didn't you mention something earlier about, um"—Lucy turned a little pink again, but persevered—"wanting to take me to bed? Are you saying that wasn't—"

"It was the hot chocolate talking."

Lucy rolled her eyes. "Talk about lame."

"Fine, pour me another glass of wine." The proprietor had insisted on tucking a bottle of red under Gray's arm to share with 'his lovely lady' over dinner.

"I don't think you like it much," the 'lovely lady' murmured, filling his empty glass as requested. He'd gulped the first glass rather quickly.

"I prefer beer to wine, but this isn't bad." Gray took a careful sip. "Besides, I figure we can each stand to broaden our horizons."

"Okay, but what idiot makes his non-beer-drinking friend try something called 'Hobgoblin'?"

Gray winced, but chuckled. "At least they were out of Guiness. That stuff will peel paint."

"And that's a selling point?"

"Heh, no—unless you're trying to be macho, or happen to like strong, dark beer. Which, just for the record, I do."

Lucy smiled sweetly at him. "You've finished your wine. Again."

"Oh." Two glasses of wine weren't really enough for a buzz, but nerves and repressed lust seemed to duplicate the overall feeling somehow. "So… dessert? If you're done your dinner? Apparently it's a house specialty."

Lucy's smile faded. "Gray…"

"… I don't want to rush anything. When we're joking around, when you're in my arms, anything seems possible. It's easier…"

"But bring a nice dinner and a bottle of wine into the picture and it isn't?" Lucy's hand tensed slightly under his. "Isn't it usually the other way around?"

"Probably. Or maybe that's the problem. I don't—I don't—want to be just some guy." Gray heard the note of uncertainty in his voice and hated it.

"You don't trust me."

"What?"

"You don't trust me to say no. You're worried that I'll do something I'll regret later and that will mess things up."

"That's not it!"

"Really? We've known each other for over two years, and it took most of that time for you—for us—to risk even one date."

Suddenly Gray's attention was wrenched from the argument—or whatever it was—by a sharp, familiar scent. He let go of Lucy's hand and jumped up, eyes scanning the scene beyond the window.

"Gray? I'm sorry—"

"No… I mean, it's not you—there's something trying to get in, can't you smell it?"

Puzzled, but trying to believe that her boyfriend wasn't just trying to avoid a difficult conversation, Lucy walked over to stand beside Gray. She stiffened immediately, and shivered.

"It's cold here! And it smells of—of snow?"

"Yeah. I guess they managed to find—or make—a chink in the glass while we were busy earlier." Gray's fingers found Lucy's and squeezed reassuringly. "You can smell them too? The scent of snow at least? Not everyone can…"

"Sure. I've always been able to smell snow."

"Okay, ever hear of snow spirits?"

"No… not unless you mean Frosty and Sparky."

Gray shook his head. "This isn't Super Makaro and there isn't some villain trying to capture all the nice little snow spirits. Real snow spirits aren't cute and they aren't friendly. They aren't always unfriendly, according to what Ur taught me, but they, uh, really dislike ice mages. I've never seen them here before, but maybe I stirred them up when I was here last year—and then they noticed that I'd come back. I'm really sorry about this."

"Well, I told you that I wouldn't say no to fighting malevolent cold spirits," Lucy murmured.

"Yeah, but this is a vacation. Maybe you could just let me deal with them?" Gray was not overly-optimistic about what Lucy would think of this suggestion and he was right.

"Forget it. The couple that fights snow spirits together, stays together."

Her companion grinned a little crookedly. "It doesn't exactly scan well, but I'll take it." He bent down quickly and kissed her lips. It was a distinctly ardent, searching kiss for a guy who should be focussed on evil—or at least angry—supernatural beings.

"Distracted, much?" muttered Lucy.

"Oh yeah." Gray drew a deep breath. "And just so that we're clear: I do want to take you to bed, and take off those adorable pyjamas, and run my hands—and my mouth—over your whole body, and convince you that we're perfecttogether and the rest of the world can go to hell."

He could sense Lucy react to his words, could swear that he felt her temperature rise. Why was it easier to say such things at moments like this? Probably because he didn't have to face her and the danger made his words seems less real. Without even having to think about it, he used ice to create a seal on the window. Not the most effective against elemental cold beings, but as long as he got outside quickly at least he could avoid a battle—and damage—in here.

"I hate your timing, Gray. Just so that we're clear—you aren't fooling anyone." Moving with calm efficiency, Lucy picked up a leather case from a bedside table and pulled out a golden key. "Aries, I need your help." Her summoning rituals had gotten less formal over time…

There was a bright light, and then a sweet, curly-haired girl with small ram's horns appeared and bowed diffidently.

"Sumimasen," she murmured as usual; the celestial spirit connected to the Zodiac sign of the ram tended to apologize for anything and everything, or even nothing. She ducked her head and smiled shyly at Gray. She seemed to like him, for some reason—or at least he didn't alarm her as much as most.

"Aries do you notice—" Lucy suddenly looked intently at her celestial friend. "Is that snow in your fur?"

"Yes? It's very cold her. I smell elemental spirits—the freezing ones."

"Well, that saves explanations," Lucy muttered.

"See y' outside, Luce!" Gray had stepped back when Aries appeared, but now he stripped off his shirt—possibly accidentally—and hurried out of the room.

"Moron, why couldn't he just wait?" Lucy sighed. She'd given up a long time ago trying to hold any of her team-mates back from a confrontation.

"I believe that Gray-san wants to get the snow spirits away from the window so that it doesn't shatter and ruin your dessert. It's very pretty." Aries hesitated, and then added, "Are you going to get married?"

"What?! No! I mean—not right this moment! We've just started going out… Why are you asking, anyway?"

"Sumimasen! We're all curious and they—they made me promise to ask since you called me—I'm sorry!"

Lucy squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. At least they cared about her, right?

"Okay, sure. Anyway, do you think you could magic up some fluffy insulation for this window?"

"Oh yes, easily!"

Moments later, the big window was wreathed in fluffy pink clouds of… something. Whatever it was, the area near the window suddenly got much warmer and the scent of snow on a cold night vanished.

"Thank you!" Lucy called over her shoulder as she shoved her feet into boots and dragged her coat on over her pyjamas. She waved to Aries as she ran out the door to go looking for Gray. Hopefully she wouldn't get lost in the swirling snow.

[END of PART I]

(1) This is a normal good manners before a meal in Japan. The word is often accompanied by placing the palms together briefly as in prayer. The idiomatic meaning is "thank you for the meal". In more formal situations one might also bow slightly.

A/Note: Sorry for having to break this up! Chapter 5—Too Cold to Hold, Part II, will hopefully be out tomorrow evening! I'm just not very good at writing things as *short* as I intend them to be... Your comments, reviews, follows and faves are all much appreciated. :)

@shell-senji @eliz1369 @nalufever @miss-zei @sanguine-fairy @ftfanfics @fic-writer-appreciation @graylu-fanfictions @canadiangaap @gsut @sassyhazelowl @foreverfangirling74

[andrewuttaro]

New Look Sabres: GM 45 - TBL - Fire Housley

Perhaps I was too tough on the coaching staff Friday night after the loss in Carolina. As I kept tabs on the standings this weekend it was clear the Sabres would indeed fall out of their playoff spot but it got me thinking how crazy it is that holding a playoff spot is a thing for this team. Not to turn this team into a kiddy ride but this is the first season in recent memory Buffalo has been in a place to have to defend a playoff spot and they did it for 63 days kicking it off with the first ten game win streak in a decade and a reclamation of a City’s love for Hockey. I think we can all put that streak to rest now. It’s clear as day that this team isn’t any kind of divisional contender. The bar has been raised nonetheless and they need to make the playoffs this season or Phil Housley, no matter how refreshing this season may have felt, ought to be on the hot seat. Before we jump down that rabbit hole we thought was filled in before Thanksgiving let’s have some playoff trash talk: Tampa Bay, You may be the only team in the Eastern Conference I see the Sabres being unable to beat in a first round playoff series. That said, the monster bleeds and when Buffalo beats the beast, which happens more than one might think, it’s the result of a totally complete team getting stifled by a goalie and five skaters who all play somehow defense. A Playoff Series would be a fun matchup if for nothing else except the experience it would give a young Sabres team. If it was a fair go of it some of us WNYers may even find ourselves pulling for the Bolts to win the big prize but I can see scenario where a Bolts team off their game gets surprised by a Sabres team firing on a cylinders because it’s so wild they’re there in the playoffs: Sabres in 7. Sorry, that wasn’t all that encouraging from a Sabres point of view was it? There are some points of encouragement in this game for a Buffalo Squad undoubtedly in free fall as well as points of contention for a Coach who is getting Jack Adams Trophy talk.

Some games trigger the collective spirit of a City or region. Its playoffs time in the NFL and with that league’s brief seasons and culturally engrained fan support in cities like Boston and Kansas City there are tons of moments of group misery and catharsis. 26 Seconds into this Sabres game the Lightning scored after a blown coverage off a faceoff. Brayden Point snuck it past Linus Ullmark as if this wasn’t a game in Buffalo where we’re all pleading for this team to not look like its dead in the water. I was not in the building but you could feel the “Here we go” through the internet. Luckily the Sabres were not dead in the water at any point for the rest of the game. Less than two minutes later Buffalo got some sustained offensive zone time that began a lead in shots they would hold for the rest of the first period. At one point Jack Eichel got the puck to Sam Reinhart who found himself in front of a wide open net behind Louis Domingue. Neither he nor Jeff Skinner who quickly arrived on the scene could put it in. The Sabres didn’t get many hot shots on the ensuing powerplay but maintained O-zone time until at 5:47 in Sam Reinhart wired in a shot through the woods from the slot to tie the game. Later in the first period the Sabres found themselves on a brief 5-on-3 advantage after penalties to Steven Stamkos and Yanni Gourde. Once again the powerplay fell flat and for the second time in three games the Sabres did not convert on the double advantage. On lighter note, Victor Hedman took a shot that broke his stick and Ullmark scooped up the separated stick blade as it slid into his glove. Little point of humor, eh? The Sabres got a second goal in a period they could have had four when Zemgus Girgensons and Tage Thompson cruised into the zone together racing the horn. Thompson got the goal and his brief stint on the top line in the Carolina game may not be an aberration if he can stay consistent.

It was 7:20 into the second period when Mikhail Sergachev and Ondrej Palat teamed up for a goal that was quicker than lightning. All puns aside it was the kind of quick pass goal you see Championship teams convert. The puck was in the corner with Sergachev maybe a half second before it was off Palat’s stick and in. Ullmark probably only saw a handful of those plays in his AHL days and a stop like that will only come in time played in the NHL. Nonetheless it was 2-2 and for the majority of these first forty minutes you might be saying the Sabres were playing the better game if not at least the more fun version of it. Our favorite rookies Casey Mittelstadt and Rasmus Dahlin had some glorious opportunities and yes, I do say that all the time. You have to imagine as they become more and more experienced more and more goals will come their way. The third period was the most contentious one. It was hardly five minutes in when Marco Scandella tapped in a pass from Jason Pominville and Domingue really looked out of position. Maybe the Sabres can confuse the living shit out of us again and beat the team they were supposed to lose to the night after they lost to the team they were supposed to beat; I mean Marco worse-in-his-own-zone Scandella scored a goal! The building was not done celebrating when Nikita Kucherov out-maneuvered Zach Bogosian and Lawrence Pilut to scored one of those full-body extension goals they always use as the background of every hockey page ever. Kucherov is a real threat for the Art Ross Trophy so you probably won’t demean his skill but I fear for Lawrence Pilut who maybe in the Press Box for a few games because of that play. I’m not to that line of criticism yet because this is a tie game at 3 at this point.

The turning point of this game probably comes when the Sabres are on a powerplay and Jack Eichel attempts to go between Ryan McDonagh and the boards in the corner and gets called for elbowing. Eichel definitely made contact with McDonagh and perhaps McDonagh does feel that but it was clearly not intentional and the former Ranger certainly sold the hit falling on the ice thereafter. Eichel didn’t want to use the word embellishment in postgame but I think an objective observer might. That penalty negated the PP and Steven Stamkos scored moments later. I was saltier than the roads in Buffalo are right now and for Sabres fans in attendance there were boos. Rochester native Ryan Callahan snuck in a powerplay goal in the dying minutes after a holding call on Lawrence Pilut and this game ended 5-3. It’s worth noting the Sergachev high-sticking on Zemgus Girgensons that would be negated earned that particular Montreal black sheep a 2 grand fine that I’m told is the max allowable under the current Collective Bargaining Agreement. It’s perhaps only noteworthy because it drew blood from Girgensons and in a stretch when my only feeling toward the Sabres can be summarized with the word salt it feels like justice. Nonetheless it’s a regulation loss, no points and a certain fall from the playoff picture with a Western Canada road trip staring us in the face.

Enough teasing: you read the click bait. Fire Housley. Remember when we had a fucking watch on that through Halloween? It was hasty then but it’s founded now. Every coach makes puzzling deployment moves every now and again but the good ones maximize their player’s strengths and minimize their player’s weaknesses. It’s probably unfair to lay the blame for a shit stretch since Christmas and beyond on Jason Botterill and I am honestly not the type to chase guys out of town. Botterill has done a good job signaling he isn’t rushing to get the Sabres somewhere they don’t need to be this spring but he’ll also tell you the roster is good enough for a playoff berth. Can Housley make good on that belief? I assume that’s the party line the whole Front Office is pulling. Chris Taylor down in Rochester pulled the Amerks out of a Pre-Christmas slump and he is looking down the stretch at a playoff run that very well could end in a trophy. They’re different leagues but coaching is all the same. You use what you got to get the best out of what you got. This is two games in a row the secondary scoring has clicked on. If the forward corps keeps clicking and the wins don’t come more and more folks will be looking at Housley. I’m not saying I’ll be tweeting Fire Housley, that’s click bait, but now more than any time in his tenure I think we have the criteria for his firing. We can find ways to hate any coach but it will be hard to feel for a coach who blows the Sabres first half in their back half.

On that cheerful note, I ask you to like, share and maybe even leave a comment on this blog. I really could use some input. Not only that: but if I get a handful of comments I might just have a surprise on the blog side for you faithful readers. That said, do you exist? I know folks read this because twitter and tumblr metrics tell me but you guys minus well be data points on a screen to me unless you let me know you’re there. We could use all the company we can get going into this cold Western Canadian trip and barren bye-week. What hockey blog does puns better than this one? Let me know you’re here. Let’s go Sabres! 

Thanks for reading.

P.S. In the “It could be worse” category the Anaheim Ducks are now on an 11 game losing streak.

[thisdaynews]

The Myth of ‘Unchained Hillary’

New Post has been published on https://thebiafrastar.com/the-myth-of-unchained-hillary/

The Myth of ‘Unchained Hillary’

As most Democrats look ahead to 2020, Clinton and her fans keep using Twitter to relive and recast 2016. Online, at least, there are still plenty of people who refer to her as “Madam President,” and she tosses this club a steady stream of caustic little bonbons: subtleMean Girlsreferences, snarky clapbacks, dry comments like “Yes, I am famously underscrutinized.” Fans responded to that one with cheers and GIFs of Rihanna putting on a crown. A writer forEsquiresummed up the sentiment: “You’re having fun now, aren’t you?”

The tweets have helped conjure an image of the former candidate you might call Unchained Hillary, or, as some of her Twitter followers have dubbed it, Hillary with “zero f—s left to give.” The idea is that, unconstrained by public office, unfazed by critics and trolls, Clinton feels free to unleash a looser, truer, more spontaneous self. Her Twitter account is the most reliable vehicle for this version of Hillary, but she has shown flashes of the persona at public appearances, too: flipping through a book of her emails at a Venice Biennale art installation and filming a Halloween bit for about the scariness of the Electoral College for theDaily Show with Trevor Noah. In early December, she spent hours chatting with Howard Stern, talking trash about Donald Trump and Bernie Sanders, even addressing head-on the rumors that she’s a lesbian. (“Never even been tempted,” she said.)

Unchained Hillary is perceived not just as a set of tweets but almost a new character on the political stage, the candidate her fanswishhad run in 2016. She is casual, snappy, direct and less inclined to carefully triangulate every public statement. And her presence over the past few months, online and in a string of book-related media appearances, has sparked a whole new round of speculation: Could Unchained Hillary have beaten Trump? Could she swoop into the 2020 field? Is she laying the groundwork for yet another phase of a political career?

But Clinton’s fans might want to cool off their enthusiasm. If you take the full measure of Clinton’s career, her voice appears less as a reinvention than as a kind of solar eclipse: Without the candidate version of Clinton to dominate our view, delivering cautious speeches and walking rope lines, her online persona shines through far more clearly. And that persona isn’t a new thing. It’s a side of Hillary Clinton sharpened by what you might call the default voice of Twitter: Sardonic, mildly bitter, unafraid to say what everyone else is thinking. It’s the same voice her digital staff worked hard to craft in 2016. Hillary, and whoever still might tweet for her, has been good at that for a while. So what is she using her voice for now?

***

Donald Trump may get all the attentionfor being the first candidate who used Twitter to disrupt politics, but if he’d never come along, with his unspellchecked fire hose of insult and puffery, Clinton stood a good chance of being that person. Even before young upstarts like Reps. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and Ilhan Omar made emojis and quote-tweet clapbacks the norm on political Twitter—in fact, well before the 2016 race—Clinton’s digital staff was pioneering a new political tone on social media.

Early on, the Clinton team understood how to seize the made-for-internet moments that fell in their laps, as shown by one well-known episode in 2012 when Clinton was secretary of State and Reuters published a candid photo of her wearing sunglasses and staring at her BlackBerry. Two young Washington public relations hands launched a Tumblr blog featuring imagined text exchanges between this boss-lady version of Clinton and various public figures. One sample exchange from the blog went like this: Barack Obama: “Hey Hil, Whatchu doing?” Clinton: “Running the world.” Clinton’s staff had the instinct to capitalize on the moment: They quickly reached out to the bloggers, contributing an entry and inviting them to meet her. It was proof not just that she could get a joke, but that she could toss it back in fluent internet-speak. (There is a cautionary tale embedded here, too: It was literally that photo of Clinton on her Blackberry that prompted the initial questions about her use of a private email server.)

Imagewise, the moment felt like a stake in the ground, a sign of new-media savvy at a time when many veteran politicians found the internet a mystifying entity. And in the 2016 race, Clinton doubled down. To run her digital operations, she hired Teddy Goff, who had been President Barack Obama’s digital director in 2012, and led a staff of Brooklyn-based “content producers” who aimed for a savvy, conversational voice. “We’re not competing with Donald Trump on Facebook,” Goff told theNew York Timesat the time. “We’re competing with your best friend, your spouse, your mom, last night’s Olympics clips.”

Ultimately, though, Clintonwascompeting against Trump. And when you look back at the candidates’ bodies of social media work, you can see how hard Clinton’s campaign worked to match the energy of Trump’s insane, magnetic feed—and how successful it was in crafting something to meet the moment.

Trump wielded the medium much as he does now, with a reflexive mix of anger, pride, insults and oddball jokes. His tweets were an extension of his mood, his brain and his ego, and they felt like a manifestation of his true self. When his staff tweeted for him, it was often obvious: No one else could have crafted that voice. Clinton’s feed—which, like many other politicians’, was largely ghostwritten—was more tightly attuned to the social trends of the moment. Her staff balanced sly references to the Trump campaign with the salty terseness of Twitter clapbacks. “Delete your account,” read her most-retweeted entry. It came in response to a snide comment from Trump about Obama’s endorsement of Clinton. “(It’s only Wednesday.),” she tweeted in May 2016, above an image of a statement from her campaign chairman describing a rash of questionable behavior by Trump that week. “Vote your conscience,” read another, a reference to a speech Ted Cruz had made an hour and a half earlier at the Republican National Convention. (That tweet was paired with a link to a voter registration page.) Her feed was also savvy about pop culture; when Trump used an image of “Frozen” merchandise to defend himself against charges of anti-Semitism, Clinton shot back with a “Frozen” reference that eviscerated his argument.

Woven in with these grabs for clicks and cash were videos of the candidate at African American churches and talking with little girls—the kind of anodyne fare that, in a previous campaign, might have been the entire social media program. Clinton’s team didn’t have the luxury to fall back on feel-good messaging, so it made the most of the sometimes odd combination of her wonkish, earnest persona and Twitter’s hard-edged cynicism. The feed could be informal, curt, and bold. It aimed at looking effortless, even when tweets were layered with carefully considered meaning. In the case of the “Wednesday” tweet, for instance, Clinton was essentially dunking the ball after an alley-oop pass, adding humor on top of a substantive point—a tested social media trick to make the original point spread farther and wider than it would have on its own. “If there is one thing that the internet likes, it’s being really direct. If there’s been a change in how Hillary engages online, then that’s probably it,” Goff told Elle magazine in the summer of 2016.

The effort didn’t always hit the mark. Both supporters and critics on the left complained about the glibness of a tweet that asked, “How does your student loan debt make you feel? Tell us in 3 emojis or less.” Overall, though, Clinton’s social media operation was noted for its fluency in internet. “Hillary Clinton’s Twitter game is #Strong,” read one Elle social headline. A piece in Mashable explained “How the Clinton campaign is slaying social media.” By the July before the election, she had about 7 million Twitter followers, compared to Trump’s 10 million. (They’re now at 26 million and 68 million, respectively.)

The trademark success of her digital team was taking a candidate frequently knocked for her lack of charisma and building a charismatic online presence around the parts of her personality that matched. And in some ways, Twitter’s snarky milieu made that easy. In real life, Clinton “has a very biting, sharp sense of humor, or a very sharp, humorous way of making serious points,” says Philippe Reines, Clinton’s longtime aide, spokesman and debate-prep sparring partner. “Twitter allows us to say things that ordinarily would stay in your head, or in the room you’re in, and share it with the world.”

***

Today, Clinton’s staff is largely gone,and it’s safe to assume her Twitter voice is more reliably her own. “She has a very small office, and it’s mostly scheduling, correspondence—so there’s no ‘they,’” Reines tells me. Sometimes a staff member will have an idea for a tweet, he says, “but she’s not one of these absentee landlords on her Twitter account at all. And certainly nothing goes out without her, you know, putting her imprimatur on it.” Goff declined to comment for this story; another longtime Clinton spokesperson ghosted.

Clearly, there’s something real about the Clinton we see now, but the campaign DNA remains.

There’s the same dry sarcasm, as when she tweeted a clip of Trump talking about Ukraine to news reporters and commented, “Someone should inform the president that impeachable offenses committed on national television still count.” There’s a very non-boomery engagement with current pop culture. Over the summer, she had a brief exchange with pop singer Lizzo; last spring, she tweeted at Trump with a famousMean GirlsGIF in which Regina George asks, “Why are you so obsessed with me?” She wields hashtags like #tbt, which she artfully used to reference her time spent, as a young lawyer, on the Watergate impeachment inquiry. And she tweeted a fake letter from John F. Kennedy to Nikita Khrushchev, lifted from Jimmy Kimmel writers, that was obviously primed to spread like wildfire—much like the made-to-go-viral tools her campaign created, like a “Trump Yourself” filter that let users overlay Trump quotes on social media photos.

On the other hand, Clinton issues even more tweets that feel like official communications from an ongoing campaign. There are plenty of cheery, milquetoast tweets promotingGutsy Women, the book she co-wrote with her daughter. Policy endorsements get threaded in, sometimes less artfully; after the World Series, she turned a congratulatory tweet for the Washington Nationals into an endorsement for Washington, D.C., statehood. Still pinned to the top of her feed is a line from her 2016 concession speech about the value of little girls.

Reines agrees with the notion that there’s nothing new about Clinton’s public persona—and that, over her decades of public life, as she’s taken on a broad range of public roles, people have always tried to search for hidden meaning in the same old communications. “Look, I started to work for her in 2002. I’ve gone through this ‘something’s changed’ routine,” he tells me. “I really think it’s in the ear of the beholder.”

So if she’s still maintaining the persona, and the presence, her staff built to run for president in 2016, what’s it all for this time? Clinton has publicly pushed back on the idea that she’ll run again. But there are clues scattered throughout her 2017 postelection memoir,What Happened. The book was mostly infused with a sense of mourning for a presidential administration that wasn’t to be and a place in history as the first female president. At one point, she shared a passage from her planned election night victory speech, in which she imagined meeting her mother as an 8-year-old and telling her that her future daughter would grow up to be president. It seemed clear that she saw her loss, not just as a shock or a thwarting of ambition, but as something closer to personal tragedy. It was an emotional defeat she could manage in part by retreating from public life: walking in the woods, spending time with her grandchildren, going to the theater.

Now, though, she has recovered and rebounded is and back on the public stage, through some combination of circumstance and calculation. She wrote a book about successful upstart women, with a massive book tour scheduled for the run-up to an election year—and a built-in reason to maintain a Twitter presence. And the fact that her book appearances coincide with the Trump impeachment drama makes her loyal fans cling even more fiercely to their alternate vision of 2016, the fact that she won the popular vote, the lingering “I-told-you-so” factor. She’s still a political player, but the campaign is different this time: It’s a bid to solidify her place in history. And without the grueling work of actually going out on the stump, she still gets to act like a candidate. Occasionally.

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