#yes better than the muppets *ducks*

[sleepynegress]

Time for my favorite annual Christmas watch...

[landograndprix]

「Feel the magic ๛ l.n」

part xii

✧.* triple header, triple podiums, and triple the love.

✧.* quick little filler before it kicks off. Foreshadowing? Maybe. More insight in the y/nlando household? Yes 🥰 getting to know girlie even better? Yes ❤️this is a psa for the people who wanted to be on my taglist but never got tagged, i didn't forget or ignore you, I simply am unable to tag you and therefore removed you from the list feel free to ask me again so I can take a look at it. Taglist is open Love ya ❤️

✧.* prev part - next part

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mclaren

liked by yourmumsuser, maxfewtrell and 253,678 others

mclaren front row locked in once again!

#imolagp

tagged: landonorris, y/nusername

view all 472 comments

mcpapaya this team!!!! 🧡

johnson87 them sharing the sheets really works out for us fans huh

bott_ass you're so real for this

norry4 that's my team y'all 😭

sharllekler girlie really said I'm in a good mood, let me give my man a tow and then proceeded to take his pole away 😭

norrizz gotta keep him on his toes :')

marcusklein she's gonna make it up to him tonight

lanlan 🕯 lando p1 🕯

maxfewtrell absolutely mental!

teampapaya HAPPY MCLAREN WEEK 🧡🧡

y/nloveee can't wait to see my girl pull a max verstappen and win her 4th wdc halfway the season 🥰

ohnomeshoes no joke, bagging y/n might just be the best thing to happen to lando, man's is killing it on all fields!!

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y/nusername

liked by cecilemoulin, riabish and 672,652 others

y/nusername fam fam ❤️

tagged: landonorris

view all 1,231 comments

hamilt44n once in a while y/n posts one of these fam fam posts and every time there's a new addition 😭

norrizz a new cat, dog and boyfriend 😂

yukisan I wanna live with you guys, pls, I know I'd be spoiled rotten

y/ngirlie bestie you're such a mom

alex_albon you're going to end up with more pets than us..

norry4 lando being accepted as a part of the family, my boy promoted to dad and step dad 🥺

cecilemoulin something tells me lando did not know about the goodest little doggie 😍

y/nusername unplanned parenthood

y/nlandooo girl stop, what's next, a goat? 😂

bobnorriz she already got a goat back at her parents house, two horses and one fucking duck 💀

y/nusername they didn't fit in my place here in Monaco unfortunately :(

bobnorriz girl get a farm 😅

carlandooo wait so you really adopted a cat back in Spain lmao

landonorris I'll find a cow in the living room next week

y/nusername don't give me ideas

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y/nusername posted to their story

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y/nusername

liked by landonorris, pierregasly and 789,672 others

y/nusername España, un hogar lejos de casa ☀

tagged: landonorris, maxfewtrell, cecilemoulin

view all 1,212 comments

mrsnorris 'home far away from home' and for what reason? Oh that's right..Carlos..🥴

chilisainz okay bestie, let's put you to bed..okay? You're talking shit again.

norrizz honestly, it's been a while since we last saw you..how have you been my love? Enjoying every single piece of y/nlando content we've had so far? 🥰

yukisan okaaay but that food looks amazing 😭

teamnotrell bunch of cuties enjoying their few days off :)

landonorris can't believe max got a girlfriend

maxfewtrell okay mate..

cecilemoulin I'm getting paid for this

maxfewtrell you're always bullying me and for what?

y/nusername I've got your back babes ❤️

maxfewtrell thank you ❤️

charles16 lando, y/n and Cecile podium this week? 👀

norry4 I love this little group of gremlins <3

landonorris love you muppet ❤️

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Feel the magic taglist: @celesteblack08 @mrsmaybank13 @cha-hot @judesgfirl @roseseraj @kissesandmartinis @jpg3 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @marialovesf1 @silkenthusiasts @luvrrish @laneyspaulding19 @emily-b @buckybarnessweetheart @strawberrychita @iifloweringnightsii @buendiabebeta @babyvinnie @mishaandthebrits @hockeyboysarehot @ironmaiden1313 @justdreamersdream @dreamsarebig @angelfreckless

Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10

Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie

[callsignfate]

Laswell x Chaotic Wife Pt.2

(I laughed while writing these. I've also posted like 3 or 4 times today so this might be my last post for today other than the vote for tomorrow's post.)

Part One/ Part Two/

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

Laswell *on the phone with price*: Why did my wife just come into my office and tell me it makes more sense to be called football.

Price: Because it is, ... and I paid her to tell you that.

Laswell: You paid her? With what?

Price: Told her she could hang out with Soap.

Laswell: That's a recipe for disaster.. again.

Price: seeing how they'll be at your house doesn't bother me one bit.

Laswell: JOHN.

*He hung up on her laughing.*

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

R/N: Kate, love, why are we out of coffee?

Kate: Are we? I wouldn't know.

R/N: I JUST BOUGHT THAT TWO DAYS AGO!

Kate: ... Someone's got to get this done.

R/N: YOU'RE GOING TO GIVE YOURSELF A HEART ATTACK!

Kate: Says the one who almost kills herself daily and makes me more stressed than my job sometimes.

R/N: ...This isn't about me.

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

R/N: So wait- your name is JOHN?!

Soap: Yea?

R/N: KATE- THERE ARE TWO JOHNS

Kate: Yes. I know.

R/N: TWO JOHNS.

Kate: She's going to go on about this for weeks now.

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

R/N: So your here for...?

Ghost: To watch you two.

Soap:.. wait? Watch us?

R/N: Kate is mad we almost burnt down the house. Her fault.. kinda

Kate *leaving the door with Price and Gaz*: IT IS NOT! GHOST WATCH THEM!

Price: Yea- don't let them out of your sight for even a second. I made that mistake once. Alright you have fun!

*Later*

Ghost *on the phone with Laswell*: THEY FUCKING VANISHED. HOW DO I FIND THEM?!

Kate: THEY- THEY WHAT?

Ghost: I went to piss, and they are GONE.

Kate: They are probably hiding. If you say "red robin" and you don't hear a "yum" soon after.. they got kidnapped.

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

*R/N and Soap ducktaped to chairs back to back after Ghost got tired of them.*

R/N: YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO RUN LEFT.

Soap: HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW YOU DONT KNOW YOUR LEFT AND YOUR RIGHTS?

R/N: Aren't you supposed to be better than him?

Soap: Shut up.

R/N: That's point what for the British against the Scottish?

*Ghost holding back a laugh*

Soap: Shut the fuck up.

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

*Kate walking back in hours later with Gaz and Price.*

Kate: What the-

Price: You duck taped them to chairs?

Ghost: They are both terrifyingly good at hiding.

Kate: ..so you taped them to chairs?

Ghost: It was the only option where they didn't escape and get kidnapped for ransom or Soap showing your wife how to build a bomb with bathroom chemicals.

R/N: I was so close to knowing.

Kate: ...actually fair enough.

Price: Told you he could do it.

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

R/N: Price called.

Kate: I don't have any missed calls..

R/N: No he called me.

Kate: That's odd, why did he call?

R/N: ...I don't know he called me a Muppet for saying I don't like tea? I forgot the rest of the conversation.

*After Kate called to see why he called her wife while she was in the shower.*

Kate: Love- they called because they were HAVING PROBLEMS ON THEIR MISSION AND YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO TELL ME THE PHRASE 'PRICE ONLY LIKES TEA WHEN HES AWAY FROM A PROPER PINT' BECAUSE THEY ARE IN DANGER. YOU SAID YOU DIDNT LIKE TEA AND JUST HUNG UP?

R/N: I was trying to catch up to you on candy crush.

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

Masterlist/ More like this/ Request

[ajstudio]

Abridgecard finds Cocaine Bear.

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Alucard is getting the hang of the changes in society after rematerializing back into existence. While paying a visit to the Goodwill store Abridged Alucard finds a unique little gem.

---------

Abridgecard: Why are we here? There's a Michael's on the other side of this place.

Persephone: They are closed due to inventory. While it breaks my heart that one of my favorite stores is closed I would be passing up an opportunity to repurpose some old goodwill rags into some real gems. There's nothing better than getting some good fabric for a steal!

Abridgecard: What about Hobby Lobby? Don't they sell fabrics? Or did they stop while I was gone?

Persephone: Oh, no. They still sell fabrics. I'm just checking here first before I go there since I know I'll be there longer.

Abridgecard: Ah!

Persephone: My cousin's art teacher found this expensive blouse for $5. I found some workout pants from Glein Clein for $6 a pair when they'd be worth $50 if I bought them online. And when I am not looking for clothes to wear I find clothes made of good material I can use to make purses, shirts, and pants. I even made my prom dress out of clothes from the Goodwill store in my area.

Abridgecard: *reacts to some of the items at the store as he makes his way to the section with the VHS, DVDs, Blu-rays, and videogame *Can-can girl teapot, Pig Cleaning Lady Cookie Jar, The Muppets plush dolls, Pacman arcade game, pictures, Sophia (Golden Girls) Bust Bank, a hippo Bhuda statue doing yoga, grinning mugs, and a duck wearing a pope hat*

Abridgecard: Oh, Vampire Knight. Of course, they would be in a Goodwill store because no one wants to keep those books any more than their Twilight novels. OH, WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT! It's Twilight! Let's see. We have one. Two. Three copies of Twilight. Four Eclipses. Two Breaking Dawns. And one New Moon. Any me novels? Hey, it's the untitled goose game for the Switch. *Turns around to find a Pacman arcade game* Oh, that's so cool- Aw, it's not working!

Old Lady: The Pacman Game? I wanted it for my laundry mat to entertain my customers but the people that work here say it's not working.

Abridgecard: Wait! Wait! Wait a minute! Why donate it if it's not working?

Old Lady: Decoration, maybe? Someone might want it for their man cave. Or gamer cave. I don't know what gamers call their gaming room these days.

Abridgecard: Huh? What's this? *looks at the case and reads the title* Cocaine Bear? *snickers* Are you fucking real!? Is it about a bear doing drugs? *reads the back* 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 Oh, fuck! This shit sounds hilarious! Oh, shit! I left my wallet at home! *spots Persephone at the checkout counter*

Goodwill Employee: Would you like to make a donation to St. Jude's Children's Hospital?

Persephone: Yes, please.

Goodwill Employee: Oh, you have three DVDs. Is there another one you'd like? It's buy three get one free.

Abridgecard: *slaps the DVD on the counter* I will have this one!

Persephone: 🤭😂😂🤭 (He timed that perfectly.)

Abridgecard: Please do this for me. I left my wallet at home.

Persephone: What did you pick? *looks at the cover* Oh, my goodness!

Abridgecard: *bends over to whisper in her ear* We are watching this tonight.

Persephone: Did you check to see if the disc is *opens the case* Oh! The disc is inside case.

Abridgecard: Of course it is. Why wouldn't it be?

Persephone: Sometimes people will donate the case without double-checking if the disc is inside. I learned this the hard way with a Celine Dion album that was missing the CD.

Goodwill Employer: That happens a lot here.

Persephone: Or the case might have the wrong item inside. I bought a copy of a game my friend lost only to find out last minute the case contained a completely different disc inside.

Abridgecard: What was the game?

Persephone: I wanted to get Warriors Orochi for the PS2 for my cousin. But the case contained a Dora game for the Wii.

Abridgecard and Goodwill Employer: Ooooooo!

Goodwill Employer: It wasn't even for the right console!

Abridgecard: You know what. I think some kid might swapped the game out of the case with his sister's and taken off with it.

Goodwill Employer: Oh, that's probably what happened.

Abridgecard: Also, why don't you just double-check the cases before putting them on the shelves?

Goodwill Employer: I don't know, but I guess I could make a habit of it starting now. I'll check once someone takes over my shift.

Abridgecard : Hey, here's an idea. Why don't you just take all the mismatched games and movies, hand them out on April Fools Day, and tell everyone there're mystery boxes?

Persephone: Or you could just sell the cases themselves and sell the games and DVDs separately? But what you could put them in if they don't have a case?

Old Lady: Would you hurry it up? I've been waiting here for fifteen minutes already!

Persephone: Oh, I'm sorry! I'll be done right this instant. *hands over Cocaine Bear to the Goodwill Man* I'll be taking this.

Abridgecard: I also want this. *sets down the pope duck*

Persephone: Oh, it's cute! Did you name him yet? *hands the duck to the cashier and then realizes Alucard could've just warped back home to get his wallet*

As Alucard and Persephone leave the checkout counter, Alucard notices an old woman handing the cashier a DVD called The Diary of an Angry Black Woman with an old black African woman on the cover.

Abridgecard: The Diary of an Angry Black Woman? I wonder who passed off the old lady.

Persephone: Oh, did you see another movie you wanted to watch?

Abridgecard: Nah! Just looking at the stuff the old laundry mat lady bought.

Persephone: You know, I've seen that movie, the sequels, and the plays.

Abridgecard: Really?

Persephone: Oh, yes. My friends and I used to watch them. The first two movies were a big part of our teenage years. They were hilarious, but the scriptwriter Tyler Perry, who also plays Madea the old black woman on the cover, isn't afraid to tackle the touchy issues that an older generation would just try to swipe under the rug.

Abridgecard: Oh!

Persephone: To best describe Madea in a way you would understand, Alucard, if I had to pick a spirit animal for you Madea would be the perfect choice.

Abridgecard: Oh, now I need to see this movie! *pulls out Cocaine Bear* Right after we watch this!

Persephone: Well, the good thing is I already own most of the DVDs. My favorites are Boo 1 & 2, the Christmas Specials, and Madea Goes to Jail.

Abridgecard: Well, I guess it was bound to happen.

Persephone: I just want to give you a heads-up about the Madea movies. Despite what the trailers and covers may imply, the movies also focus on a family member of Madea's or someone she'll meet later on and the challenges they face. Madea can be a bit of a troublemaker and probably should have been locked up a long time ago. But just like a good family elder, she offers guidance when they need it. She's kinda like you.

Abridgecard: Are you saying I should be in jail?

Persephone: I wasn't trying to imply that. But realistically, the inmates wouldn't be safe with you. You would probably be put in solitary confinement.

Abridgecard: That's not nice.

Persephone: I'd come visit you.

Abridgecard: But would you break me out?

Persephone: No.

Abridgecard: Ow!

Persephone: But I could afford it I'd bail you out and I'd visit you until I could.

Abridgecard: And with that, you're forgiven.

Persephone and Alucard spent two hours indulging in their leisure activities. Persephone spent her time examining fabrics and restocking her art supplies, while Alucard followed her around with two garden gnomes. They then had a double movie night where they watched Cocaine Bear and Madea Goes to Jail. While watching the movies, Alucard was reminded of his past experiences of hijacking lifting cranes while performing his crazy antics.

[cassipedia]

Review of Migration (2023)

Hey, Cassipedia, what’re you watching?

Over the weekend, I watched the film Migration. It is an original animated film directed by Benjamin Renner and co-directed by Guylo Homsy and produced by Illumination. When I say original, I do mean it, as it is the first movie I’ve seen in a while that is not an adaption nor based on a pre-existing property.

Do you recommend watching it?

Yes, very much so! This was a surprising experience that I would hate for others to miss out on. The commercials had piqued my interest with the beautiful animation of the flying scenes and the jokes seemed harmless enough. Sometimes I am wary of Illumination films as they can be sometimes a bit too noisy or chaotic, but I’m very glad I saw the movie anyways, as it was surprisingly heartwarming, very cute and stunningly gorgeous (and, contrary to my concerns, it actually uses quiet moments better than most animated films I’ve seen recently!)

What's the story like?

This is a story about the Mallard family, ducks that live a peaceful and simple life in their pond, until a flock of migrating ducks stirs an adventurous itch in everyone except the nervous father, Mack. However, he soon comes around to the idea as he realizes how much an adventure would mean to his family and especially his wife Pam. So they start flying to Jamaica for a vacation. The trailers for the movie spoils the fact that the ducks take a wrong turn and end up in New York City, but the story is less focused on ‘duck shenanigans in an unfamiliar place’ and it instead is more of a road trip with a seamlessly integrated villain. This road trip allows the Mallard family to see different locations and meet different birds, all the while the family grows closer, trusting each other and growing braver in their own ways. There are delightful moments of silliness that are reminiscent of Looney Toons, but the movie takes seriously how much the family loves each other, giving them a reason to grow together as strong and beautifully as the trees they fly over.

What does the movie look like?

Think of how beautiful the sky is. Have you ever been on a plane and looked out at the sloping mountains and pillars of white clouds? Or perhaps, as the sun sets, you look up see how the red sun fades into golden orange blanketed by increasingly purple clouds and the approach of blue night? This movie understands how beautiful the sky is and elevates that feeling, as our bird characters soar and fly through vibrant forests, to a claustrophobic but intriguing water-logged shed, to the shiny and colossal skyscrapers of New York. The settings are gorgeous and the characters themselves are animated masterfully, so each character is incredibly expressive, with the beauty and grace of real-life birds mixed with Muppets-style comedic timing and cartoon stretchiness anchored by being able to carry heavy emotions. This all goes hand-in-hand whenever the birds take flight, as the camera seamlessly follows the birds from take-off to being air born, giving the thrill of a flying rollercoaster. There is such a sense of scale and height, and the world is from the birds’ perspective, with little details that brought me back to the creativity of early Pixar, such as having the father duck blow away a lightning bug nightlight like blowing out a candle, or how the birds will seamlessly alternate between their wings or their feet to gesture. With the movie being from the perspective of the birds, that means none of the human characters talk, being more like creatures existing alongside the bird characters, and this results in a very entertaining and interesting villain in the form of a duck chef with a Yakuza, gang member level of intimidation, whom never utters a word beyond grunts and yells paired with very well-made expressions. To give an idea of how good the animation is, even though the chef has no lines, from simply how he moves, sharpens his knives and looks at the ducks, one can see how, he’s a chef that takes his cooking very seriously, demanding high quality, but, when the ducks start interfering with his business, then he’s all too happy to start seeking revenge. And he is technically only a fun obstacle as the core of the story that this beautiful movie conveys is not about them versus a villain, but instead focused on a family.

How are the actors and actresses?

Every voice perfectly fit their characters, and the animations did excellent in having it where I could feel the characters talking, watching how their beaks formed the words with little flashes of their pointed, bird tongues. The father Mack Mallard was voiced by Kumail Nanjiani and did excellent as an anxious father who could get silly and serious, (and whose manner of speaking fittingly reminded me of a more grounded Daffy Duck). Elizabeth Banks voiced Pam Mallard and delivered as a mother with energy and eagerness paired by a snappy quick wit and a genuineness in each word. One of the cores of this movie is seeing and hearing how Mack and Pam fall back in love with each other over the course of the film, and I believe these voice actors delivered. The rest of the family cannot be overlooked, as Caspar Jennings as Dax Mallard provides a great performance as a courageous young boy who is itching for adventure. Dax is full of bravery but lacks the knowhow on how to protect himself along with others, whereas his father Mack is an excellent survivor but needs to be urged out of his comfort zone to truly become brave. The lesson between them is not simply one is right and the other is wrong, but it is a sharing of perspectives, in which the boy’s bravery inspires the father, and the father’s wisdom equips the boy against their obstacles. I was most concerned of the family member Uncle Dan, voiced by Danny DeVito, as to if he would be an unpleasant tagalong as sometimes happens in these movies, but he quickly established himself as someone who, though he makes quips and seems to lean on his self-interest, he never, ever hesitates to dote on and play with his darling niece, the youngest Mallard, Gwen, who is voiced adorably by Tresi Gazal. Notably, the film makes a point to show that the family already loves one another at the start, but their trip lets them appreciate each other and push their boundaries and discover more of themselves. The other voice talent are more than just recognizable celebrity names and each fit their characters, providing a distinct and colorful cast as one would hope from a road trip type movie. The Herons were my favorites in setting the tone of characters not always being what they seemed in an intriguing way, but each played a role in furthering the family’s journey and usually closed their loop on their own personal journey. The only group of these characters that may feel underexplored are the migrating ducks that inspire the Mallards on their journey in the first place, but I think it is due to the other characters simply having more screentime, as I’ve no doubt these characters would have been just as entertaining as the rest of the cast if they had been given more time.

Is the music worth talking about?

This is not a musical, but the score is absolutely a big part in why the scenery and so many of the moments in this movie sticks out in my mind so vividly. If you listen carefully, you will hear how the music changes depending on the setting. While the Mallards are in the forest, there is an emphasis on using a whimsical choir, adding to the lighthearted feeling, and as they enter the city, unsure of what it even is at first, the music takes on an ethereal, almost dream-like quality that one isn’t quite sure what to make of, until the ducks pass through the smog and nearly run into a steel beam and suddenly you got energetic and chaotic brass instruments banging in as the Mallards are caught in a whirlwind of New York City hustle and bustle. My words really can’t do it justice. And it is worth noting, there is only one distinct instance of a pop song being used in the movie and it is incorporated quite well as a band in a scene plays that song, resulting in a surprisingly beautiful display of ducks engaged in a Salsa dance. The movie is very smart with its music, as it furthers the immersion of seeing this colorful world through these cartoon ducks’ eyes. There are also great moments of quiet and silence, as the movie will also let the atmosphere talk for itself, really letting you sink into it (though it is worth noting that, for the opening of the Universal and Illumination logos, these are the complete opposite and are the noisiest parts of the entire film as the Minion characters from Despicable Me introduce the logos with kazoos. And if you are watching the film in theaters, you may find yourself sitting a surprisingly long time watching a short film based in the Despicable Me universe called ‘Mooned’ but rest assured, you did not walk in on the wrong movie and I very much encourage you not to leave your seat as I overheard many others in the theater seats next to me nearly did.)

Who would like this movie most?

If you are someone that likes birds or the sensation of being high up in the air or on a rollercoaster, I very much urge you to check out this movie. It is also a film that I think would be very enjoyed by those whom are interested in animation and illustration, to see an excellent example of how colors and movement can truly be blended to dazzle in a movie format. The story and characters are well-written and compelling for any age, though I think this movie would be well-received by families, especially as this film strives to show how a family grows closer together. There is a clever, timelessness to the jokes that focus more on the situation on hand and when you have animal characters reflecting on human habits, such as when one of the birds refers to a chef as ‘a predator that hunts prey and serves it to much lazier predators.’ During one of my viewings of the film, I had the pleasure of a family of a broad range from the parents, to their parents to young boys all sitting near me, and it caught my ear that each generation consistently laughed throughout the course of the film.

Where can I watch it?

This film is available in theaters for only a little bit longer at the time of writing this, but I heavily recommend seeing it in theaters at least once. Not only so you can really soak in the colors and the scope of the heights as the birds fly, but also so you can better feel the thrusting of wings as the birds take to the sky and the wind rushes through their feathers. It is an incredible experience. Considering it is an animated movie, it is possible it may re-appear in theaters for kids movie special offers as theaters like the Marcus Theaters sometimes provide. Otherwise, if this review reaches you too late, the film is available for streaming on Peacock for the first four months of being released, then will move to Netflix for the next ten, and then will return to Peacock for the remaining four, so I recommend checking between those streaming services of Peacock and Netflix. Otherwise, it doesn’t hurt to keep an eye out for a physical copy.

Final thoughts?

Migration is a beautiful film that I think can very easily fit in as a classic film, one that focuses on bringing a family together through a fun and colorful adventure. At the very least, it was a pleasure to watch in theaters as a visual rollercoaster, especially for the bird lover in me, and I hope, after its theatrical release that it will make its way into homes as it made its way into my heart. If you’re up for an adventure, then I completely encourage taking the dive.

[arrowofcarnations]

Wherever You Find Love, It Feels Like Christmas

~

Written for the magnificent M @opaleyedragon for the SW/C2C Secret Santa exchange! Some Christmas cub fluff for your yuletide enjoyment. Universe and characters by @lumosinlove!

(Also, yes, I did take the title for this fic from a song in The Muppet Christmas Carol, one of the greatest cinematic masterpieces of our time.)

~

“Okay,” Leo said, socked feet padding across the living room and a trio of steaming mugs in his hands. “I’m ready, unpause it. Scoot over, Harz.”

Finn shifted on the couch to give Leo enough room to sit. He took two of the mugs carefully from Leo’s hands, passing one down to Logan on his other side. “I love that we stopped the movie for emergency hot chocolate,” he teased, grinning as he lifted the mug to his lips. Leo could see the lights from their Christmas tree reflected in his brown eyes, soft and twinkling.

“Had to be done,” Leo shrugged, blowing gently on his own drink. He nodded toward the TV, where The Santa Clause was still frozen on the screen. “It looked too good.”

“Yours is better,” Logan declared, taking a long sip. His appreciative groan—and the foamy mustache above his upper lip—made Leo and Finn laugh.

Logan turned to meet Leo’s eyes, and Leo smiled at him, tilting his head. “Better than an elf’s?” he asked. “I don’t know, Tremz. She’s magical.”

“So? You’re magical,” Logan said immediately, and Leo bit his lip to keep the grin from splitting his face. “And so is your cocoa. Parfait.”

Leo took a sip of his own drink, savoring the rich chocolate on his tongue, and glanced at the steadily falling snow outside their windows. They’d spent the entire day alone together, enjoying some peace before the whirlwind of travel and family and big celebrations. It was the best Christmas Eve he’d ever had. The thought that he could have this every year, forever, warmed him from head to toe.

“Oui,” he said softly, leaning back against the cushions. “Parfait.”

They settled back into the movie, jostling each other as they battled for real estate under the oversized knit throw Celeste had given them as a housewarming gift a few months back. Leo rested his head against Finn’s as they watched, Logan tucked against Finn’s other side, and savored that, too—the closeness of his two favorite people to him, to each other.

It was nearing midnight by the time the credits rolled. Finn sat up and yawned hugely, stretching his arms over his head before reaching past the empty cocoa mugs on the coffee table to grab the remote.

“What do we think, boys?” he asked, looking from Logan to Leo as the TV flickered off. “Another movie, or?”

Logan, hair mussed and eyes sleepy from the long cuddle, pushed himself halfway off the couch to stretch his back out. “Ouais, sounds good,” he said, blinking up at them. “We already opened all our presents, and if I eat another of Knutty’s Christmas cookies right now, I’m gonna need bigger pants.”

Suddenly, Finn sprang into action, nearly taking Leo with him as he launched himself off the couch, still half-tangled in the blanket they were sharing. “Jesus, Finn, what—”

“I almost forgot,” Finn said in a rush, and Leo let his unfinished question hang in the air, cocking his head at his boyfriend. “Stay here,” was the only further explanation Finn offered before jogging down the hall and up the stairs toward the bedroom.

Logan raised an eyebrow at Leo as he maneuvered himself close enough to put his feet in Leo’s lap. “What was that about?” he asked.

Leo could only shrug. “No idea.” His hands found Logan’s, threading their fingers and giving a brief squeeze. “How’re your hips?”

Logan, who was watching Leo with half-lidded eyes and his side pressed against the back of the couch, blinked. “Quoi?”

“Sore?” Leo clarified, glancing at the jar of tiger balm that lived on the coffee table. They’d been playing hard, practicing hard, right up until the holiday break, and they’d all been feeling it. If Logan’s perpetual sore spots were bothering him, Leo wanted to help.

Rather than reaching for the jar, Logan tipped forward to catch Leo in a gentle, slow kiss instead. “I’m okay,” he murmured. His smiling lips were centimeters from Leo’s own, their noses brushing, and Leo smiled back, running his hands over Logan’s broad shoulders. “You are so…” Logan trailed off, shaking his head a little as he reached up to cradle Leo’s face in his hands.

“I’m so what?” Leo asked, the softness of his own voice surprising him.

“Just…” Logan shook his head again, still smiling. “J'aime ton doux coeur.”

Leo wasn’t sure his heart was any sweeter than Logan’s, but he knew it was swelling in his chest at Logan’s words, at the way he was looking at him. They were caught up in a slow, unending kiss when footsteps appeared on the stairs, then in the room.

Leo pulled back from Logan with one last peck and looked over at Finn, who was watching them with soft eyes. “Best thing to walk in on, wow,” he sighed, and Leo laughed.

“The best thing?” he asked archly, raising an eyebrow.

“Top ten.” Finn crossed the room but didn’t join them on the couch, sitting instead on the edge of the coffee table so he was facing the two of them.

“Okay, so,” he started, trailing off as he looked at each of them. He was fidgeting with something in his hands, and Leo realized it was a pair of small boxes, badly wrapped. “One more present.”

“Quoi?” Logan said, noticing the boxes, too. “But...I didn’t get you anything else, Harzy.” Leo nodded; they’d already exchanged all their gifts for each other after dinner.

“It’s a bonus present,” Finn said, and was Leo imagining it, or was he a little nervous? “It’s something for both of you. Well, for me, too.” He pressed one box into Logan’s hands, then the other into Leo’s.

Leo only looked down at it for a second before starting to tear away the wrapping paper, beyond curious about this so-called “bonus present.” Under the shiny, smooth paper was a velvet box, palm-sized. Gryffindor Jewelers was scrawled across the top in elegant gold script. Leo’s heart sped up; he lifted the lid, not knowing what to expect.

Nestled inside was a necklace, the delicate gold chain tucked into the cushion. Hanging from the chain were three circles in three different colors. They overlapped each other, intertwining together to create one pendant.

“Oh,” Leo breathed. He heard Logan whisper “Finn” a moment later. He looked up at Finn, who was watching them carefully, a hopeful smile on his face.

“You don’t have to wear them, if you don’t want,” he started. “I know you’ve got a necklace already, Lo, and you don’t usually wear jewelry, Nut, but I saw these and thought—they’re kind of us, the three, you know?” He reached under his hoodie, pulling an identical necklace out from under it. “I got one for me, too, so it’d be like...all of us together, on the ice or wherever. We’d wear them and know.”

Leo and Finn looked over as Logan slowly lifted his necklace over his head. Leo wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Logan take it off—not to sleep, not to shower. He took the new one out of its box, then fiddled with it a moment until he got the tri-color ring off its chain. Leo bit his lip as Logan slid it onto his necklace’s chain, the well-worn fleur de lis clinking against the shiny new ring softly. He heard Finn take a sharp breath in, and then felt Finn’s eyes move to him as he took out his own necklace and put it on, the pendant settling over his pounding heart.

“I love it,” Leo said around the lump growing in his throat. His smile was growing wider by the second as he looked down at his own chest, then at Finn’s and Logan’s. “I love you, Finn, of course I’ll wear this. Thank you.”

“Mon rouge,” Logan said, and Leo was glad to hear that his voice wasn’t the only one that had gone a little scratchy. Logan pushed himself off the couch and knelt in front of Finn, tugging him down for a searing kiss.

Finn was practically beaming now as he stroked a thumb across Logan’s cheek. “Yeah? You like it?”

Logan huffed, rolling his eyes before planting another firm kiss on Finn’s lips. “I’m never taking it off,” he mumbled, pressing a palm to the center of Finn’s chest, covering the pendant Leo knew was there. “Love you, Fish.”

“Love you,” Finn smiled. They both rejoined Leo on the cushions, but Leo didn’t let Finn get very far, tugging him onto his lap to press kisses across his cheeks, nose, forehead and lips.

“Love you too, Knutty,” Finn added, kissing Leo back with all the same tenderness. He glanced down, playing with the pendant before letting it bounce back against Leo's chest. “Looks good on you.”

The three of them stayed like that, cuddled up with each other and sharing lazy kisses, until the snow slowed to a stop outside the warmth of their home and they were all fighting off yawns and drooping eyelids.

Leo wanted to drag them to bed and wrap himself around them, letting their heat lull him to sleep. He wanted to wake up to a Gryffindor white Christmas and kiss them good morning, then make them all breakfast to the sound of Finn’s off-key caroling. He smiled as he remembered he could have all of that—he could have everything—and ducked down to kiss the juncture of Finn’s neck and shoulder, over the necklace chain.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispered, and had never meant it more.

[make-me-imagine]

Red Roses: “I Love You” - Clint Barton Ending

Valentines Special: Day Nine

Day One: Morning Glories  //  Day Two: Blue Salvias Day Three: Sunflowers  //  Day Four: Pink Camellias Day Five: Yellow Tulips   // Day Six: Violets Day Seven: Lisianthus  //  Day Eight: Daffodils (Post with rest of the character endings)

Plot: It’s finally Valentines Day, the day the reader will finally learn who it is that had been leaving them flowers and notes expressing their secret feelings.

Pairing: Gen!Neutral Reader x Clint Barton

Triggers: Mention of gunfire/violence (very brief)       

Words: 1,678 

Requested Taglist: @aquariuslavenderhoney​​, @thebookbakery​​, @fablesrose​​, @kitkatd7​​, @thefallenbibliophilequote​​, @beksib​​, @destynelseclipsa​​, @criminaly-supernatural​​, @tammythompson-singslikea-muppet, @belloangelus​​, @snarky--starky​​, @saintbootlegloras​​, @wecallhimbrowneyess​​, @empath-bunny​​, @okkulta​​, @katinthemoon,  @ravennight41​​, @youcancallme-rae , @radhumandragonclam, @unfortunateidiotinadilemma, @past3l-w1ngs​​ ,  @goinggoinggonzo​​, @mxxnmocha​​, @theofficialzivadavid​​, @fred-deeks-ben​​

February 14th

You ducked down behind the car as one of the assailants fired his gun at you, peaking out after hearing a grunt followed by a thud, you see him lying on the ground, stun-arrow stuck to his back. Your eyes dart to where the arrow came from as Clint and Natasha came out of the building. 

“Took you guys long enough!” you yelled as you threw a stun grenade into the building where you heard men coming from to chase after you “What happened you get lost?” you quipped as you all began running back to the car.

“Whats your hurry, got somewhere to go?” Clint asked eyeing you with a smile as you all jumped into the cars. 

“Maybe I do, what’s it matter to you?” you asked as you caught the hard drive Natasha tossed you. Unseen by you, Natasha and Clint shared an amused look as you all caught your breath.

You had suddenly been sent on this mission this morning when you found out that two home-terror groups were sharing dangerous information and SHIELD secrets. Finding out about a drop of the hard drive you were sent to retrieve it. 

“I never knew you to be interested in any of Tony’s parties.” Natasha said.

“I’m not” you replied simply as you plugged the hard drive into a computer. 

“Why not? Should be fun.” Clint said.

You remained silent as you began hacking the hard drive, ignoring Clint’s comment, but unable to ignore the heavy beating of your heart. 

After getting back to the SHIELD office you were heading back to the tower, Natasha fell into step beside you “So, are you excited about tonight?”

You glanced at her quickly “I don’t know.” you said truthfully. You had told her about what tonight would bring, the truth about your admirer. You hadn’t told Clint, because, well, you wanted it to be him more than any of the others, and you were afraid that talking to him about it, would make it too obvious, or maybe he would be to obvious about it not being him. 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine” she said, as if to console you.

Entering into the tower, you see various Valentines decorations littering the front entrance all the way to the elevator. You and Natasha stopped as you looked around, none of it had been there when you left. Feeling a presence behind you, you realized Clint had entered.

“Wow. Looks like Cupid threw up in here.” he joked before brushing past you.

You and Natasha smiled as you followed behind him, all three of you had to rush to get ready, the party was starting in about an hour and you were sure you all looked like hell after having a firefight. 

- - -

After quickly taking a shower, and getting ready, you sat on the edge of your bed as you slipped on your shoes. Taking the silent moment to really think about what might happen in the coming evening. 

You tried your best to be accepting of the fact that it could be any of the others who might confess to you tonight, and you tried convincing yourself that you would be alright with it being any of them. And in a way you were. 

But, thinking more about it being Clint, made you feel more excited and hopeful that it being any of the others. And thinking about it, not, being Clint, made you the most disappointed. You had known each other for years, he is the reason you became an Avenger in the first place. He knows almost everything about you, and you about him. He makes you comfortable, he makes you smile, laugh, and he makes you feel safe. 

Looking over at your desk, your eyes land on a series of photo booth photos of you and Clint you had pinned up. You went undercover as a couple once a few years back and took them. It ended up being one of the funnest nights of your life, even through the spying and fighting. He had a matching set of photos tucked away also, his favorite of them all, torn off and placed safely in his wallet. But this, you didn’t know.

Checking the clock, you take a breath as you stood and left your room, the party had begun. Once you got to the party you were a bit intimidated with how many people had already shown up. ‘How many people did Tony invite?’ you thought to yourself as you scanned the room.

You jumped slightly when an arm slipped through your own. Looking over you see Natasha by your side as she looked around the room too “I don’t even know who have of these people are. And that’s impressive for being a spy.” You smiled at her comment, feeling comforted by her presence as you both walked further into the room.  

The first hour of the party seemed to go by quickly as you spent most of it greeting and chatting with some of the guests, per Tony’s request. Walking away from a particularly perverse man, you rolled your eyes as you walked into the other room, someone falling into step beside you. 

“Someone certainly pissed you off.”

You turned to look at Clint with a look of disdain “If I had to hear one more suggestion about what would make my superhero costume look “better” I was going to deck him.”

Clint snorted as he took a sip of his drink before setting it on an empty tray in a waiters hand. Reaching out his hand he looked at you “Dance?”

You looked from him and into the crowded room of slow-dancers, you hesitated “Ehh, I don’t know, you know I’m not much of a-”

“Oh come on” he smiled as he took your hand in his and all but dragged you further into the room. As he brought your intertwined hands up, and set his other on your waist he smiled at you as you began to move with the music “You’re a great dancer. And I say that as the guy who taught you in the first place.” 

You smiled at the reference back to an undercover mission you had been on, that involved going to very rich man’s party. “Now you’re just trying to boost your own ego. As if I didn’t crush your toes more than a few times.” 

“Hey, I got over it, and you got better.” 

“We’ll see, it has been a while.” 

“You’re doing fine.” He said honestly with a small smile that made your heart pound. 

You chatted through the rest of the song, and as the next started Clint paused as he looked around “I have something for you.”

Queue the rapid beating heart again “What?” you asked. 

Reaching into his suit pocket, carefully, he pulled out a single, delicate, half-bloomed rose. You froze as you stared down at it as he handed it to you. You stared at in in surprise before you glimpsed up at him, your eyes briefly scanning the people behind him, noting that they were all preoccupied with their partners. 

“Clint, this is...”

“A confession.” he finished.

You met his eyes “So it was you the whole time?”

He smiled while gesturing his head “Yeah well, I guess I just couldn’t stop myself from falling in love with my best friend.”

If your heart could beat so hard out of your chest, this was the moment. “What?” you almost whispered out. 

He took a small step closer so that your faces were mere inches apart as he brought up his hand to gentle brush the side of your face “I’m saying I love you Y/n. Have for quite a while actually.” 

Unable to stop yourself you all but leaped forward and you wrapped your arms around his neck in a tight embrace making him chuckle as he wrapped his arms around you. He spoke into your ear ���I’m hoping this is a good reaction.”

You pulled away with a laugh “Yes it is Clint. I- “ you hesitated, out of fear and excitement before whispering out “I love you too.”

Clint grinned at your words before he cupped your face in his hands and pulled you into a kiss. Both of you smiled into the kiss before pulling away. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a hell of a long time.” 

Your smile continued to beam at him as he said this, before he reached out and pulled you closer, his hand intertwined in your again. Leaning in, you kissed again before pulling away as he began to sway your bodies again in time with the music “Natasha knew didn’t she?” you asked, thinking back on all the times you and her had talked about it. 

“How could she not? Besides, she helped me deliver them on a few occasions.” he smirked making you smile and shake your head as you thought back to that day in the gym.  

“So why the flowers and the notes? I knew you were a romantic, but even for you this is a bit...dramatic, not to mention patient.” 

He chuckled “Oh trust me, there were times I almost gave in and just told you. But, I heard you talking to some of the others about Valentines a while back, you know when you guys were laughing about how they put all that Valentines stuff in stores two months before? And I heard you mention that you’ve never really had a Valentine before, so I thought, hey what the hell, I’ll be your Valentine.” he finished with a cheesy smile that made you giggle.

“Well.” you paused “I couldn’t have asked for a better Valentine that you.”

He smiled fondly at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead. Moving to rest your head against his shoulder he pressed a kiss to the side of your temple as you continued to dance. Both of you unaware of the grinning and giggling Natasha and Wanda watching from the corner of the room.

xx xx xx xx xx

If you liked it, please consider reblogging and checking out the rest of the endings!~ :)

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales Della Arc Reviews: The Last Crash of the Sunchaser!

Hello all you happy people. I’ve been dreading this one.. not because it’s bad. Quite the oppisite. In fact on rewatch I was marveling at how brilliant this one was and remembering why it was on my best of list. But because the ending, as you all well know, is the most gutwrenching part of the entire series. Three seasons and lots of other heartrending moments.. and the ending of this episode from the big reveal to that final shot above tears you the fuck apart. It’s hard to watch even know it all works out in the end and that i’d be watching the conclusion the next day instead of having to wait a rather painful week like I did at first airing. It’s just that good. So join me under the cut for a review of one of the series finest half hours and some of David Tennant’s best work as we crash the Sunchaser one last time.. for this season... and i think Launchpad crashes it again in the finale so I don’t get that title. 

So our plot for the episode is that 

Yes Clan McDuck is taking their version of a vacation. It’s off to Monocrow for the E.X.C.E.S.S. Expo! Yes it’s the EXCESS Expo! With the latest in racecars lasers and many more! The EXCESS Expo! With booths from such welcome guests as Stark International, Muppet Labs, S.T.A.R. Labs, VenTech, The Franklin Sherman Memorial Fishmobabywhirlomgig Institute, TCRI, Gryzzl, Sumdac Systems, G-Heavy Industries, Tylerco, Lexcorp, Wayne Enterprises, Quickstart, The Gizmonic Institute, Alchemax,and Baintronics! But that’s not all! We also have huge paneeellls! Hank Pym’s “The ethics of dating your robot grandaughter”, Reed Richards “How to Dispatch an Evil Council made up entirely of yourself!”, Victor Von Dooms “CURSE YOU RICHARDS I’M SMARTER FOR I AM DOOM”, Stanford Pines with “How to Kill a Godlike Demon and Get your Smile Back”, Dr. Bunsen Hondedew with “How to abuse your assitant in 2020″ Dr.Light with “The Ethics of helping your robot child fight an evil albert einstein”, Profesor Henry Hidgens with “The incoming apocalypse with songs from Working Boys: A New Musical” Ray Palmer “Welcome To Pain”, and you know our friend Ass Dan will be in full effect> yeah bitch you know he’s going to live forev... what’s that? He’s dead. oh shame. Someone call rusty venture. Yes I know i’m typing this. Shut up. THE EXCESS EXPO. BE THERE OR WE’LL SEND OUR ROBOTS AFTER YOU. 

... Where.. Where was I? Oh yes, big vacation. Monocrow.. which sadly is not just a big field with just Crow T. Robot in it. Someday you’ll get MST3K/Ducktales Jake, someday. Point is our heroes are excited, and Scrooge is also there to find the Maltese MacGuffin, a mysterious artifact no one’s ever seen. And the kids and Scrooge have their own specail guest joining them: Bentina! Yeah turns out she has hundreds of vacation days built up, and simply hasn’t used them so she’s using a few to join them. It also once again shows how much less of a heartless money monster this Scrooge is as any of his employees asking for a vacation, paid or not, in the comics would result in this:

So their off on their greatest adventure.. with Louie having’ bought something mysterious along with him he’s only telling the other kids about. On with the intro!

Beakly.. is intstantly not at ease as they take off after driving their jeep into the plane. She feels launchpad is reckless, rightfully so not helped by a lack of seatbelts on the plane or his cheefully saying the closest he’s got, a floatie, will help “When” we crash. She’s also equally annoyed by Scrooge’s cavalier attitude, having intrusted the kids to him only to find out what the adventueres are really like. And this is the only part of the episode that REALLY doesn’t work. She KNOWS these two idiots too well for this to be beliviable. Launchpad wrecks part of the mansion at least once a day, and before Duckworth she had to clean that shit up. He’s there all the time.. and more damingly HE DROVE YOU AND YOUR KID, YOUR KIDS BEST FRIENDS, AND YOUR KIDS GIRLFRIEND TO THE FUCKING MOVIES. I can’t buy given how bad a driver launchapd is she didn’t wrench the wheel from him to prevent their early graves. Scrooge meanwhile is her BEST FRIEND. And until season 2 for her and 3 for him ONLY friend. Sure she works for him, but outside of one incident in this episode he treats her as his equal more than his housekeeper for the entire series. They trust each other more than anyone else at this point. And the only other two people Scrooge ends up trusting as much are Donald and Della. She’s been around him enough to know how he is. What did she THINK he was going to be like with the kids? She’s met the twins, and even mroe so is on good terms with Donald even into the pilot and they only got off on bad terms due to clashing over house rules. So she KNWOS this is what he does with children. You can’t be shocked Scrooge took children on death defying adventures in a barely secured plane after all this time. It’d be like giving Donald a turkey to carve and being suprised when it ends in this...

It just dosen’t work especially with a professional spy! Her job is reading people! And yes I know many of you are going to say “Well she misread Bradford”... but so did Scrooge and so many others. NO ONE suspected him. He’s that good. So her suddenly having a complaint about all this stuff when she could’ve come along anytime to check it out or just looked at the plain bothers me a LOT. Thankfully it’s only really present at the start as while it sets off her concern their back and forth soon has a far deeper meaning. But Scrooge insists Launchpad take her on a tour to ease her worry, seems like a contrdictary set of sentences there, while he flies. How hard could it be. Somewhere on the Moon, Della has the sudden urge to kick her uncle’s ass. 

So meanwhile in a secret base set up in a cargo box, the kids are working on the Della mystery. Turns out what Louie smuggled aboard was the documents shredded on the date the boys found on the Spear of Selene plans. Louie got them by smooth talking Quackfaster who even he found nuts. It also once again shows Dewey was only holding things back by keeping the other boys out as in jus weeks, since chronologically there were two other episodes between this and the last Della episode versus just one, their almost to the truth as one document from that day is simply torn into pieces and simply needs to be re-jiggered like a puzzle. Like most puzzles though naturally once they get it all together they find there’s one goddamn piece missing and it ends up loose int he plane flitting around... just as Scrooge majorly screws up and bumps things, leading Beakly to wonder where the kids are and them to scramble out. 

So yeah Scrooge seemingly crashed the plane.. except Launchpad notes that if they crashed.. why are they still airborne? This leads to everyone finding out their precariously perched on a VERY narrow rock that’s skewered the plane. Orignially the crew decided to strictly adhere to the concept that any movement would rock the thing.. but realized i’td make things boring visually so they allowed themselves some artistic license. 

So yeah our heroes are stuck in a hard place and Scrooge stubbornly digs in insisting he can fix this and turns on the plane.. which sends it spinning and prevents Dewey from getting the piece which ends up wedged in the jeep. Huh I think we need some appropriate music for going in circles. 

So yeah all Scrooge did was blow up one of the engines... I mean the blow up the engine button is right there, would’ve saved you some time. So Beakley berates him for not calling for help and digging in and for it’s next plan it’s time for Handyman Corner where he’s going to show you how to jumpstart a plane with a jeep’s engine. Beakly is not impressed and Scrooge’s case is not helped as Louie feigns fear , with Huey and Webby following his lead, so Dewey can get the piece. Unfortunately pointing out the very REAL dangers they face, with Huey giving the odds and Webby pointing out unlike most dangers they face there’s no easy way out and no villian to fight, sends Louie into an actual panic, jumpstarting the car  and causing the cargo bay to open, leading to one hell of a sequence: From Bentina driving a butterfly knife into the ground to hold the kid’s secret base crate (and wondering why it’s so heavy), to Launchpad desperatley platforming his way to saftey to scrooge swining in with his cane to rescue them. It’s some whopper animation that really shows off how damn good the team was and how gorgeous this show truly was at it’s best. 

The results aren’t good: the plane’s ballnce is now off so even a slight movement can move it, a holdover from the original idea simply saved for when it’d create the most tension. As a result Dewey can’t get the last piece as he can’t move and Scrooge berates the kids and has thems tay still watching the end credits of darkwing duck (It’s launchpad’s inflight movie and the tape is jammed to that section.

IT’s here the Scrooge and Beakley stuff went from poorly written to “oh shit” in one line. Scrooge is getting more and more desperate to prove he can take care of the kids on his own but Beakely’s demeanor has turned from annoying scolding.. to genuine concern and PLEADING with him not to go through with another dumb stunt that will leave them in a worse situation, int his case using the parachutes as counterweights to fix the engine. He refuses both rebuffing her as “your boss” (Which gets her rightfully pulling on the cord too tight) .. but then that one line comes in “I can protect her”. Beakley is confused.. but it instantly makes clear this is about Della and on rewatch now knowing the reveal at the end.. it makes it that much more heartbreaking. Part of his refusal to backdown is his natural nature as a stubborn ass. It’s been well displayed throughout this season and the ones after it: HIs refusal to backdown from nevverst, his jealousy of Dewey for being better at him and his refusal to accept it.. the man just does not back down and while it’s good in tight spots and against bad guys, as he finds a way out for him and his family with sheer grit and badassery... it’s a massive character flaw when dealing with people, as refusing to actually talk to them like a ratoinoal adult only makes things worse. And boy oh boy is he about to make things worse. But the other part is he can’t admit to himself there’s a risk in his lifestyle and that he can’t keep everyone safe constantly.. that theres inherent danger. He’s bought into the “because i’m scrooge mcduck” mantra here not out of his ego, entirely, but because he can’t let that not be enough again. He can’t LOOSE someone again like he lost Della and he can’t fail again. So his worst trait and his greatest trauma have mixed to make him act so rashly even Launchpad takes some shouting to agree to give him the other parachute. It’s clear he’s endangering EVERYONE to prove he can save them. 

Eventually though things reach their head as Dewey CAN’T take the wait anymore. He’s waited his whole life to find out about his momma, and the answer’s feet away... and he can’t let it sit any longer. He HAS to know what happened. So he goes for it, though the rest of the kids are against it since i’ts highly risky and they can wait Huey ends up agreeing to help using his Junior Woodchuck knowledge (Where Newton apparently got the idea), to counterbalance hsi weight and guide him via walkee talkee. It’s a really nice moment, not only showing off Huey’s skill and intellect but also how much they care for her. Dewey may of screwed up last time but their still the duck boys and if he can’t talk him out of being sucidially reckless.. Huey’s going to at least give him a fighting chance. 

Unfortunately Scrooge spots him mid argument with Beakley and naturally wants him to give it here... but once the ship buckles when Dewey tries we get the scene that makes the episode. Up till now the tension has been top notch, ratcheting up by bit, not knowing if the kids would get caught, if something would happen with the plane all building to this. Scrooge and Dewey’s final chase. Dewey uses the distraction to make a runner for it with Scrooge following.. and Launchapd using the fact he’s still attached to the airbag to stop him. It’s a small but excellent character moment, showing that as much as Launchpad loves his boss.. he loves his best friend and eveyrone else’s saftey more. SCrooge of course uses it to knock him back while Beakley and the kids counterbalance. We also get the best joke of the episode as Beakley tells them to stop running.. only for them to simply start tip toeing, with Bentina’s reaction being a perfectly resigned “That’s not what I meant and you know it”. 

It’s a tense chase, with both sides using the enviorment to their advantage from the parachute to the crate.. and it’s breaking open reveals something’s gonig on and causes Beakley to notice Webby has the blueprints in her pocket and once she unfurls them and finds out what they are.. she can only give a sad, remorseful “oh children, what have you been up to” She’s not even mad like they seem to think.. she’s just sad, knowing the wound that’s about to be reopened for her closest friend and the one that’s about to be inflicted on those poor children, and knowing that they’re ALL made it worst by hiding it. Toks deserves all the praise for her delivery here. 

Eventually the piece blows outside of the plane and Dewey refuses to give up and go after it. Things get their most tense as everyone BEGS him not to come back, it’s not worth his death to get this. It’s not worth all of this. But he simply chucks the walkee away and ignores them. We then get Scrooge going from scolding grandpa.. to dearly begging Dewey to come back... David’s delvery here is just heartbreaking “I can’t protect you. Is that what you wanted me to say. Please lad just tell me what it will take to come back inside?” And Ben Schwartz meets it with an utterly emotional “Tell me about the spear of selene”. The animation here is once again some of the series best with Dewey’s determined face and Scrooge’s heartbreak as he realizes he has to finally stop hiding this from them and he’s not ready. So he takes his uncles hand.. and if you thought all of this is painful.. oh boy.. we’re just getting started. 

So back in the plane, with Launchpad setting up a table and a proper counterbalance so they can all sit, Scrooge finally explains and the boys, webby, and us int he audience all get the answers we desperately wanted: It was 10 1/2 years ago. The Original Trio had journeyed the world, having all sorts of adventures and making themselves into legends. But eventually you hit a wall and they’d realized they’d been just about everywhere. They could still globetrot of courser and as Season 3 would bear out there were some places they didn’t know about.. but the earth was about used up. So Della, being an aerospace wunderkind, thought of the next logical place to go. The stars. The Spear of Selene was a rocket, her pet project to give her kids, who she was expecting at the time the stars. 

Thing was Donald wasn’t on board with this at all. And the clash between the two, which we see in the flashback but don’t hear since Scrooge is narrating all of this over some cool looking semi-still images, was inetiviable. As I coverd in the spear of selene review I feel Donald was burnt out at this point. That he was tired of adventures and just wanted normalcy even before Scrooge forced his hand with what was to happen next. So to him Della should just settle down, live a regular life and raise those kids. The problem is... Della WASN’T burnt out. She didn’t need a break to live a normal life like Donald badly needed. She wanted to keep going and it was her choice. While Donald ultimately was right about the risk, he was wrong to try and force her into a life she didn’t want and project on her like that. 

What happened next though was all on Scrooge and Della. Scrooge simply did the thing that’s likely part of why Donald resents him so much and it took so long to fix thing: He ignored what Donald felt and thought, sided with Della and built the ship without telling either of them. His selfishness, thinking he knows what best and treatment of donald.. all backfired horribly. Della sussed out the ship.. and I still feel she was suspicious on her own.. and that Bradford telling her was him simply handing her a lit fuse knowing it’d go off and WHATEVER happened as a result of this would break scrooge. Even if the rocket had gone off saftely and everything was fine.. he could easily claim Della threatned him,k which she probably did and he simply went with it, and either way Donald would be unable to forgive either SCrooge or Della for the deciet. It just went better, and worse than he could’ve anpiciapted: much like the fantastic four she took the ship in the dead of night and hit a cosmic storm, with Scrooge only finding out in time to try and help her.. but the storm hit the ship.. and unlike the ff instead of gaining the power to turn invisible, she simply disappeared. She was lost. He and Donald didn’t speak again after Donald found out till 6 months ago. 

If that wasn’t heartbreaking enough.. it gets worse. The kids, full of fresh pain and anger over Scrooge’s part in things, their mom abandoning them, and their uncles hiding this for decades.. take it out on the one person there. Frank and Matt recently said in an artcle detailing the best 7 episodes from one site, or at least what the site considered to be the best, that Donald was absent because  he also knew and would’ve told them sooner. I also feel it’s because he would’ve disarmed this conflict, at least admitting what scrooge did alongside beakley. As mad as he was.. his own anger had started to disapate. The wound was fresh to the boys and thus they lashed out. 

Dewey blames him for it outright, Huey tell shim he should’ve called her back, and Louie tells him he shoudl’ve sent a fleet of ships to find her. As we find out in the somehow even MORE crushing ending he did the last two and as I made clear, and the show does, this was Della’s horrible decision. She took an unfinsihed rocket, she left her kids, she did this. While she regretted it and I don’t hold it against her because she spent 10 years away from the mon the moon, she’s suffered THROUGHLY for it and I don’t feel I need to pile on, Scrooge wasn’t wholly responsible. Still partly. Dewey makes things worse by impling scrooge GAVE UP ON HER because it cost too much. 

Look the rest of it is valid, if misguided, as Beakley tries to chime in on it and correct them knowing the full story. But claming, no matter how greedy he is that Scrooge would ABANDON HER.. that’s just wrong and he knows it. It’s why Scrooge gets so upset.. and why he pushes the last two people in his corner away. Webby critisizes building the rocket and Scrooge belts out “This is a family matter, your not family”. runing his position and poisiong his one ally by lashing out at someone who DID NOT DESERVE THIS. Make no mistake, this is present day scrooge’s WORST action. The past scrooge did worse, we saw that, but this is almost worse than the goat thing. Telling a child h’ed basically adopted, ignoring the finale twist for this as it’s irrelvant and all it does is twist the knife deeper, that “she’s not family” just because he wants someone to be mad at besides his boys... that’s fowl. Everyone’s against him except launchpad and tha’ts where his stubbornesst ragically comes in: he digs in his heels refuses to explain.. and the plane crashes due to it. though safely. Their safe.. but the family is broken. 

So we get our hell of an ending scenes. Donald cheerfully announces to the boys, who earlier had no intention of leaving anyway, the boats finished.. only for Dewey to inform him “We know abotu the spear of selene” . Donald is heartbroken, not only that they know.. but that he didn’t tell them. 

But since “it gets worse” is this episodes motto, we end on Beakley, Webby and Duckworth all leaving on vacation. How a ghost does vacations I dunno, maybe he’s going to go to Amity Park. Point is Webby, despite EVERYTHING , is crestfallen he’s not even going to say goodbye and still worried. As I said in my review of the finale.. it’s her heart that makes her and while Scrooge may be a dick right now.. he’s family. So we get the final lines of the episode Beakley: Well, you've successfully pushed your family and everyone who ever cared about you away... again. I hope you're happy. Scrooge:I AM

It’s just damn heartbreaking.. once again he’s lost everything and is too bitter to admit it and try and get it back. And as we see between the lines.. the boys were wrong: He drained his bin and his buisnesses creating a fleet to get Della back, and kept going despite the expense. He did everything he could to call her back. Nothing worked.. and he only stopped because the board yanked him away, Bradford sneering with pride as his plan, which backfired HORRIBLY, had at last finally gotten him what he wanted: a broken scrooge tired of adventure. And as Scrooge sits in his chair seething.. he’s broken again, angry, with tears in his eyes, loving nobody.. and nobody loving him, eerily mimickcking his first appearance in comics. 

Final Thoughts: 

This episode is a masterpice. It’s perfectly paced, with only a minor flaw tha’ts qwuickly snuffed out for a gripping drama. This was a gamble, taking 9 minutes where ther’es almost no jokes and just pure tensino and heartbreak.. but it paid off. This episode is one of the series finest and leads to one hell of a finale but on it’s own.. it’s nigh untouchable. This is the series at it’s best, and the finale and later information (More about Della and the spear, WEbby’s true origin, bradford’s role in all this and role as head of fowl), only make it better, with all those things being aware to the creators but not us. They really made us wait for this reveal but damn if it wasn’t perfect. 

Next Time: Webby, Bentina and Launchpad try to desperatley piece the family back together before the boys and donald leave forever.. and Scrooge’s darkest hour leaves him vunerable for his greatest foe. It’s finally time to get back to Lena as the Shadow War descends over our heroes.

If you liked this review, follow for more and you can comission your own reviews by paying me 5 bucks to review any episode you like. Message me to talk it over. And if you’d rather get a gaurantted review every month, hit up my patreon at patreon.com/popculturebuffet. For 5 bucks a month you get a review every month and as of now special thanks in each review. Even a buck a month gets the thanks and helps and my next stretch goal, which is 5 bucks away nets everyone a review of darkwing duck everymonth for my lovely patreons to vote on. Special thanks to my patreons Emma and Kev, and I will see you at the next rainbow. 

[nekomittchi]

My Disney Fab 50 Statues

This is my version of the Disney Fab 50 statues for the WDW 50th Anniversary, and why I picked each one. My list aims much more to park history than the official list does. I'll note which ones are official statues by underlining them. These are in no particular order, but organized by park they'd be in. Magic Kingdom 1) Mickey - Obviously, Mickey, being the park and company mascot, needs to be here, and he's on the official list as well. I chose to put my version in his Philharmagic costume. It's got the hat from Fantasia/Sorcerer's Apprentice, which is well known, but tailored more to the park attraction. 2) Daisy Duck - One of the Fab 6, Daisy is also along for the ride. But unlike the official's "standard" outfit, I'm putting Daisy in a safari outfit to represent Jungle Cruise. Since Jungle Cruise doesn't really have any characters, I'm using outfits, like with Mickey, to represent attractions that otherwise would be left out. 3) Goofy - Another of the Fab 6, Mickey's best friend needs to be represented. Like Daisy, he's also repping a character-less ride. This time he's repping Big Thunder Railroad. As an added bonus, if they put him in a conductor outfit, it could also rep Mickey and Minnie's Runaway Railway, but that's at another park. 4) Pluto - The last of the Fab 6 in this park (the other two I'm placing elsewhere), Mickey's dog Pluto. And since the Park Wishables already put Mickey and Minnie in space suits for Space Mountain, let's give Pluto an astronaut helmet to represent it! And, as an added bonus, it doubles as a take-that at Universal, since Disney can't have Marvel in the WDW parks, and Pluto would be a joke on Cosmo (the space dog in the Collector's museum from Guardians of the Galaxy). 5) Sonny Eclipse - The first statue of mine that's not only unique to my list, but also represents something 100% in the park. I haven't been to Cosmic Rays myself, but from what I hear around WDWNT and WIGScord, it's pretty popular. Or at least Sonny is. So he gets a statue. 6) Merlin and Archmedes - Second statue unique to my list, and the first that's for the history of the park. Sorcerers of the Magic Kingdom was a scavenger hunt-type game that closed down early this year, and Merlin was kinda your guide for it. The game apparently had a lot of problems, but it looked really fun at the same time. 7) Genie - A surprising omition from the official list, and, unlike DLR, WDW actually has an Aladdin ride. The official list does have Abu, but I feel Genie is much more iconic and representitational of the movie. I'm also surprised that Carpet wasn't with Abu. 8) Pirate Dog - The Pirate Dog holding the keys is my representation of Pirates of the Caribbean. The dog might not be the most obvious pick, but as I'm trying to steer away from realistic-looking human characters, the dog was picked. Plus, they also made a Tsum Tsum and a Wishable of him, so... 9) Big Al OR Henry- This one's a toss-up. Either bear would do, and it's surprising to me that Country Bear Jamboree isn't represented. Of course, we know that it's a "less popular" attraction, so... 10) Madame Leota - The hitchhiking ghosts would also work to represent Haunted Mansion, but I think that having a gold statue inside of an ornate glass orb would look cooler. Plus, it only takes up one character slot, rather than 3. 11) Dumbo - One of the original rides from Disneyland, this classic has to be represented, and Disney agreed. Although I cut out Timothy. Didn't wanna take up another slot. 12) Stitch - Another statue to represent a past attraction, Stitch is here to represent Stitch's Great Escape. He's also, like the official statue, in his 626 form, because there's not nearly as much merchandise for him that way. 13) Winnie the Pooh - Piglet is with him on the official statue, but I think Pooh can stand on his own. Or, at least, eat hunny on his own. I mean, the ride is called "Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh," not "Pooh and Friends." Also, Tigger is way better than Piglet. 14) Mr. Toad - Another surprising omition from the list. Mr. Toad's Wild Ride might not be in Magic Kingdom anymore, but he's still fondly remembered, and they even made a Wishable of him (from the Disneyland 65th Anniversary set, but whatever). 15) Maleficent (Dragon) - The first of my statues that's not for an attraction, but a show (okay, Philharmagic is kinda a show, but shush). And she's also considered the "leader" of all of the Disney Villains, who are not represented at all in the official list, which I think is a shame. Sure, we all love the heroes, but who would those heroes be without their villains? 16) Face Clock - The only non-character in my list, the Face Clock is iconic enough for the World's Fair-turned-park ride. Because if you picked one of the dolls, which doll would you pick?! 17) Elliot - I've never seen the Main Street Electrical Parade myself (unless it was when I was 5), but I'd recognize the dragon float from Pete's Dragon anywhere. Bonus points if they could do the statue in such a way that it looked like the float, too. 18) Tinkerbell - The last of the revealed statues, Tinkerbell has come to represent Disney magic, both within and outside the parks, just as much as Mickey. Officially representing Peter Pan's Flight, I'd like to think that she also represents the Castle, like in the company card at the start of the movies. 19) Jose, Michael, Pierre, and Fritz - Yes, I know I've been trying to avoid "wasting" slots with multi-character statues, but... How could you pick just one of the Enchanted Tiki Room birds?! 20) Cheshire Cat - Cheshire and Mad Hatter both made the list (as separate statues), but I feel that Alice in Wonderland can be represented by Cheshire on his own. Plus, cat. 21) Boo - Monster's Inc Laugh Floor is an attraction that I wish was at DLR, so I could go on it, but even better than Sulley or Mike is the adorable Boo. 22) Jimminy Cricket - Yet another surprising omition from the list, Jimminy is almost as iconic to Disney Magic as Tinkerbell is. The official list has Pinocchio, but Jimminy is so much more "Disney" in general than Pinocchio. 23) Dopey - Seven Dwarfs Mine Train represent, as well as Disney's first animated feature. EPCOT 24) Donald Duck, Jose, and Panchito - Mickey's other best friend, here represented with the other two of the Three Caballeros, as represented in the Gran Fiesta Tour ride in the Mexico Pavillion. Like with the other members of the Fab 6, I chose to put him in an attraction outfit, and since I did, the other two had to come along for the ride. 25) Figment - Journey to Imagination (or whatever the current name of the attraction is) might be "meh" as a ride, but everyone loves Figment. Even Disney, who included him. 26) Olaf - I love Bruni. Bruni is probably my favorite character from all of Frozen. But Bruni isn't even named in the movie, he doesn't need to be on a statue. Olaf can represent Frozen Ever After by himself. 27) Remy - I'm shocked that Remy's not on the official list, given that his ride [officially] opens on the first day of the 50th Celebration, and represents the future of the parks. 28) Orange Bird - OB is on the official list, though in MK rather than EPCOT. All of the merch and such I've seen for him has been for the EPCOT festivals, so I'm sticking him here. 29) Rocket Racoon and Groot - Another statue to look to the future, for whenever Cosmic Rewind opens. Also, unlike the official statue, we are not using the realistic style from the official statue. The fur on Rocket looks so bad. Nah, instead we'll do him smooth, like the cartoons. 30) Mushu - Mushu was left out of the live action Mulan movie, but he's designed after traditional Chinese dragons, so let's put him over by the China Pavilion. 31) Marie - Did you really think that this list was not going to have my favorite character on it? I mean, really? Plus, we've got THREE mice/rats on the list, AND a dog, so we need another cat. Hollywood Studios 32) Minnie Mouse - And here we have the last of the Fab 6, Mickey's gal Minnie! Why is she in Hollywood Studios? Because she's representing Tower of Terror, wearing a cute outfit, of course! 33) DJ-R3X - Remember all those Fab 6 characters representing multiple characters? Yeah, R3X here is doing the same. Not only is DJ-R3X the DJ at Oga's Cantina in Galaxy's Edge, but he was originally RX-24, the pilot for the original version of Star Tours. Much better representation than BB-8 or R2-D2 from the official list. 34) Kermit the Frog - One of the more offensive omitions from the official list. MuppetVision3D is great fun, and the Muppets don't get nearly enough love, even with the Haunted Mansion special coming. 35) Chuuby - Okay, so sue me, I'm obsessed with the little merchandising bird. He's just too cute. 36) Woody and Buzz Lightyear - I know the official statue is Woody and Bo-Peep. But I haven't seen Toy Story 4 (or 3), so I want Buzz there. Disney's Animal Kingdom 37) Chip and Dale - Ya gotta have the little buddies! And who better to be wearing cute little Wilderness Explorer outfits? 38) The Yeti - So, the real Yeti might not work in Expedition Everest, but that doesn't mean he shouldn't be represented as a statue! Just make sure it's not realistic fur like that horrible Rocket statue. Stylized only! 39) Simba, Timon, and Pumbaa - Simba is separate from his friends in the official statue, but the trio (Simba as a child) should stick together. Festival of the Lion King is amazing to watch. You'll note a few things on my list: 1) There are no princesses. This was a specific omition on my part. The princesses have their own line of stuff, and are fairly over-used as it is. I wanted to get away from that. 2) As I mentioned with the Pirate Dog, I wanted to avoid realistic human characters. They either look good, or they don't. And I wanted a bit more of a similar style to everything, hence why I'm noting that Rocket should be done in the cartoon style, and the Yeti should be stylized. 3) Everything is tied into an attraction, land, or Disney Magic. Nothing is there solely from a movie. 4) My list only has 3 statues more than the official list. 5) For reference, here are the characters that are on the official list that are missing from mine: Timothy the Mouse (with Dumbo) Piglet (with Winnie the Pooh) Bruni (with Olaf) Bo-Peep (with Woody) Lumiere and Cogsworth Mad Hatter Pinocchio Gus and Jaq Lady and Tramp Abu Dante Miguel Pua and Hei-Hei Joe Gardener Edna Mode Frozone R2-D2 BB-8 Sebastian and Flounder Nemo and Dory Bambi and Thumper Of these, there are no major parks connections for Lumiere and Cogsworth, Lady and Tramp, Dante, Miguel, Pua and Hei-Hei (yet), Joe Gardener, Edna, and Frozone. Edna and Frozone especially bother me, as they're not even the main characters. Why couldn't we get a Jack-Jack instead? And Mr. Mittens and 22 over Joe Gardener? 6) And, finally, here are my statues that are new to my list: Sonny Eclipse Merlin and Archmedes Genie Pirate Dog Big Al Madame Leota Mr. Toad Maleficent Face Clock Elliot Jose, Michael, Pierre, and Fritz Boo Jimminy Cricket Dopey Remy Mushu Marie DJ-R3X Kermit the Frog Chuuby Buzz Lightyear The Yeti

[mindwideopen]

Disclaimer: anyone embarrassed of my cleavage, please bypass this post. Thank you. (Again, repeat this disclaimer out loud, and say it like Steve Martin being his insane yet loving character “ruprecht” in “dirty rotten scoundrels”)

Faux Monty python auditions:

Disclaimer 2: NOT based in reality, because the actual members of Monty python are gentlemen, and are kind. No character assassination intended. My intention for writing this is harmless satire because of my admiration for their group. And, the fact that as women, they are prettier than I am.

(Lights up on a very large board room with a very long table. All of the members of Monty python are sitting in a row, facing Kari.)

Kari: hey! Nice to meet you all! (Shakes their hands) you guys are fantastic! I’m so happy to get the opportunity to audition for you, and be considered for your group.

Monty python: nice to make your acquaintance. (Whispers amongst themselves at the long board table they’re sitting at, evaluating Kari) who is she?! A bird. What kind of bird? I don’t know... let’s analyze... pull up her headshot. A “headshot” is a picture for you people who don’t know what a head shot is. We don’t mean an actual gun shot to the head.

(To Kari) Ok. Let’s...

Kari: let’s what?

Monty python: look at your portfolio of character work.

Kari: I write, mostly, but these are silly pictures of me for fun.

Monty python: we love fun. Quite.

Kari: we have that in common then!

Monty python: quite.

Monty python: no. Ok. You are not a bird. This is not you, is it? No, it can’t be. You are a cat woman. Unusual.

Kari: oh, that’s a filter on Snapchat.

Monty python characters: Snapchat? What’s that?

Kari: it’s an app that makes you into different creatures.

Monty python: what’s an app? Our show is based primarily in the 1970s we think, we have to look it up to be reminded, and haven’t the foggiest idea what you’re talking about. Well, regardless, let’s all pull up a better picture of you, since you are not really a cat. We’re quite sure, yes, quite, that you are a human being, although not sure, so no. Next slide, please! (We’re British, so we’re polite about our requests...)

Monty python: ok, no. In this one, you are a shocked and lacey, bear creature. Are you a biological man?

Kari: no.

Monty python: one of the criteria of joining our group is that you are a man.

Kari: well, I’m not. See the next slide.

Monty python: please discuss something amongst yourself while we confer about you, in front of you.

Kari: ok. (Kari starts talking about ray rayner, and chelveston the duck to herself...)

Monty python: well, we’re not sure why she’s here if she’s not a man. We play all the women in our sketches. Um, also, we hate to bring this up and look naive, but is she writing us? We don’t know. Some of us aren’t even alive, so it’s hard to determine what’s happening in this case, as we’re all speaking the same words at the same time. If she is writing us this is highly irregular, which is a state that we’re used to being in. The words keep coming. Yes, but she never differentiates the difference between one of us, and all... so we sound like a men’s spoken word chorus. Do those exist? They do now, we are it. Who is this insane woman? God only knows...

God: no, I don’t.

Kari: well, I’m done with my conversation with myself, are you guys done as well?

Monty python characters: yes. Quite. ok, well, next slide pleeeeease.

Monty python: oh my.... yes. Not a man. Ahem. Yes. Clearly. Right. Kari, would you please excuse us again, as we need to confab about you yet again.

Kari: ok. (Kari discusses her love of Kurt Russell and Goldie yawn amongst herself. Both national treasures, both not in the movie, “national treasury, or whatever it’s called...)

Monty python: all in favor of her being in our group, say we! Wait! Before we vote, oh. My... (they Hub hub hub hub peas and carrots. Please say the hub hubs and the peas and carrots like all of the characters in the movie “waiting for guffman”.)

Monty python: Kari, We need a moment to discuss you.

Kari: do you want to discuss me, with me?

Terry Gilliam: yes! Absolutely eventually at some point not now no yes. But we need some privacy at this time.

Kari: ok. I need to take a shit. I’ll be back.

(Monty python all sit and analyze this photo. 4 hours later)

Monty python: yes. Quite. ok! Next slide, please.

John Cleese: um, I’m not done. You all proceed. I’ll hang back a bit, because she looks like she could get rough. I will protect us... because she’s evil... I hope.

The rest of Monty python: very well, next slide, please.

Monty python sans the John Cleese cause he went off to shoot his cameo in the “great muppet caper” 40 years ago...: jooooohhhhnnnnn..... she is evil....

John Cleese: on it! (Mumbling to himself but half to us, the reader, which is me only, cause I write for my own amusement) But not, because she’s married and I think I am but I’m not sure, cause she’s writing this, and unaware of my marital status...) I will call, the only ghostbuster she isn’t pissed at right now because he’s dead... and doesn’t ignore her insane writing because he’s unaware or aware that she writes... oh Egon....

Egon Spangler (as portrayed back in the 80s, by Harold Ramis, or, as Kari lovingly refers to him, Hamis.): yes, this is a classic class F case of a “she be piiiiiiiissed” poltergeist, fairly common around these parts as of late, shouldn’t be an issue. I accept rubies (not to be confused with a ruby gem stone) and zorks currency as payment. Payment due up front.

John Cleese: (yelling) well I don’t have a ruby or a zork on me?!? What do you think I am?! The queen or something?!

Queen the band: definitely not.

John Cleese: (yelling and flailing his arms around like Kermit the frog because he idolizes him, and just worked with him, in the great muppet caper, so he’s heavily influenced by his dynamic personality) see?!?! Now how are we supposed to exercise her?!? She’s the devil! She writes insane things not unlike us, but we’re fine because we’re men that dress like women, and that is socially acceptable, but a woman who acts like a man, is not! And she sometimes acts like a black man, and that is doubly not acceptable, not in a way that cancels itself out, but in a way that emphasizes my point profoundly. She MUST be exercised!

Richard Pryor: have you tried walking her around the block after meals?

John Cleese: (still yelling per the ush) what the hell are you talking about??!? Walk her around the block after meals?! I couldn’t get a harness around her if I tried! She’s writing me flailing around like Kermit the frog! The woman must be stopped!!!!!!

Richard Pryor: just a suggestion. You need to relax, Jack, ok? Cause you’re more than a little uptight.

George Carlin: British.

Richard Pryor: ok. Got it.

Carlin: and isn’t it, exorcised?

Richard Pryor: not as funny.

Carlin: ok. got it.

Eric idle, who stands idle to the fact that his last name is also “idol” when said, and also leaves too many questions like others who suffer with the same affliction have... which idol are we discussing? The sun god, Rah? The sacred cow? American?

Eric idle character: oh god.... scene...

God: I love Kari, I do, because she believes I love everyone, so yes, scene is fine.

John Cleese character: yes! Quite.

Egon Spangler: 70 zorks, please. No personal checks.

Svengoolie (not his son, just him): yes. No.... personal.... checks.....

(Kari walks into an empty conference room)

Kari: um, hey guys? Anyone here? Oh well, I feel better now that I’ve pooped!

(Monty python jump out from underneath the long board table)

Monty python: Boo!

Kari: oh! You startled me! Good thing I just pooped!

Monty python: yes, quite. So, here’s the thing; we’ve reviewed your portfolio and you’re brilliant with the exception of a few things.

Kari: what’s that?

Monty python: well, the first thing is that you’re a woman.

Kari: yes, I am. I saw proof of that in the bathroom.

Monty python: ah, yes. The second thing is that according to Wikipedia, a website we have never heard of at the point in which we were in the first picture, let alone the fact that the internet as we know it was not conceived yet either, and all we had were encyclopedia brittanicas, our show ran from 1969–1983, 1989, 1998–1999, 2002, 2013–2014. All years past. You were born, when?

Kari: 1974.

Monty python: ok, now see? We were in full swing at that point in time. You were a bit too, not available for us, and also too much of a woman for us all, and that’s great! Because you’re way more intelligent than we imagined, we can tell by your pictures, and truth be told, we’re more than a little afraid of you, because you write for us, even though some of us have ceased to exist on this celestial plane. And although we enjoyed our time chatting, we are going to have to take a pass.

Kari: that’s ok! It was nice watching you chat about me a bit while I talked to myself. I’m going to get a soy pumpkin spice latte now from Starbucks. Care to join me?

Monty python: no, thank you. As Starbucks isn’t invented, and neither were pumpkin spice lattes.

Kari: ok! Maybe in 2020 after the Covid shit subsides a bit.

Monty python: yes. Quite.

Scene, scene... (whisper this one) scene.

The aforementioned scene was not real, nor was it endorsed by the real Terry Gilliam, Michael Palin, Eric Idle and John Cleese. But, I think terry jones and graham Chapman (who is a chap, and a man, making him a double man, which is very manly indeed, loves me, Kari Keillor, for who I am. Not egoic, but loves herself enough to write still, even its for her own pleasure, and to herself. ❤️)

[bangtancuties]

interview tag ✨

-> the rules are to answer questions and tag 20 blogs you are contractually obligated to know better :)

i was tagged by @kooseokss thanks for tagging me!! Hope you think these answers are cool and you get to know me a little better!! :)

name/nickname: Elke/Bubs pronouns: she/her star sign: Taurus height: 173 cm / 5'7 thats right Im like yoongis height haha time currently: 22:26! when is your birthday: April 24. I turn so old then <_> nationality: Dutch! favorite band/groups: bts, twenty one pilots, glass animals, cage the elephant, dayglow favorite solo artists: k.flay , tame impala song stuck in your head: your love (deja vu) - glass animals last movie you watched: hunchback of the notre dame last show you binged: the mandalorian, and also the muppets show lmao when you created your blog: oof okay so Im an old bitch and this blog has been around since december 2015 or so last thing you googled: “diabolo mechanics” it was for work lmao pls dont judge me other blogs: I do have an older blog floating around here somewhere focused on art reblogging/gaming but I dont use it anymore and have decided people will have to just accept whatever I post why i chose my url: seems pretty obvious 😩 bangtan are 7 cuties. Bangtanboys –> bangtancuties. Yes Ill take my creativity award now thank you how many people are you following: 300 or so but many blogs are inactive now theyre from the ✨old era✨ how many followers do you have: Id rather not say because its sad lmao average hours of sleep: 7-9 , I sleep a lot cuz work will bite me in the ass otherwise and Im an old lady now lucky number: lucky number 7 all the way instruments: I play multiple! Keyboard/piano, guitar and bass guitar. Panflute and ocarina too. And I like to sing but poorly! what i’m currently wearing: flannel shirt with mom jeans and some seriously ugly socks! dream job: I always wanted to be an artist for video games. So its pretty cool that thats what Im doing now. Getting to live my dream every day is a real treat although of course reality is different than the dream. Still worth it! dream trip: Id really like to visit asia again. Visiting China was honestly incredible and Id love to visit it again as well as south korea, japan, taiwan and vietnam, where Ive never been. favorite food: I love lots of things! So a couple favourites: peking duck, kimchi stew, a good old dutch stamppot, ahha favorite song: well fuck me up this is mega difficult and my style and music changes all the time . Ill pick 3, for now: Can’t Sleep - K.Flay Hot Rod - Dayglow Alrighty Aphrodite - Peach Pit top three fictional universes you’d like to live in: Harry Potter, Star Wars , Pokémon!

As for tagging; I dont know all that many people so lets see ! @caiider @transrightsjimin @lifegoesmon @kimdaily @smilingtaehyung yee ok sorry this is all I have I really need more tumblr pals 😩😩 thanks for tagging me though this was fun!

[lovehugsandcandy]

First Snow (Colt x MC)

A/N: Thanks for hosting the @choicesdecemberchallenge, @choicesbyjade and @cora-nova! This is for day 8 and the prompt is presents. (@client-327 inspired this with this piece of art. Also, thanks @client-327 and @brightpinkpeppercorn for the analysis of RoD coffee orders. Very verrry helpful, thank you so so much.)  

Pairing: Colt x MC, RoD

Length: ~3900 words 

Rating: PG-13 (Swearing. Kissing.)

Summary: Ellie has always wanted to see the snow. She just didn’t know she had to live through so much snark to get there.

“You look like a Muppet.”

“Excuse me?” Ellie looked down at her vest and snarled, more bark than bite. “This is very in right now, I will have you know. And just because LA is hot doesn’t mean I can’t try for some Christmas spirit.”

Colt stood from where he had been crouched next to his bike. “And that means you need to don some giant bright monstrosity that makes it look like you scalped a Wookie and dyed it green?”

“Well…you wear red pants.”

“I don’t shed.”

She groaned and looked down. She was leaving a conspicuous trail of forest green fuzz across the concrete floor.

“It’s also LA,” Colt continued. “I don’t think you need a vest.”

“It’s December. That means it’s almost Christmas! I love Christmas.” Ellie had always adored the holiday, though the sunshine and endless beaches of her hometown made the Christmas spirit seem contrived. 

“Wow. You are all about the holidays, aren’t you?”

Ellie crossed her arms over her chest, but her defensive stance soon faded as a dreamy look crossed her face. “Yeah? My mom used to love it. She let out a wistful smile and looked down. “I’ve never seen the snow. We always dreamed of taking a winter holiday, playing in the snow or something, but...”

“…Sorry.” He ducked his head, eyes softening. Colt may be prickly about almost everything, but he understood family. 

“Every year, I tell myself I am gonna see the snow and it never happens.”

“It’s 70 degrees right now.”

“I know but not everywhere. It snowed two feet in Tahoe yesterday!” She sighed. “Next year. I’ll see it next year. At Langston. I can just picture me gazing out at the snow while studying.“ Ellie chuckled without warmth as she lost herself in the daydream. “I’d have a mug full of hot cocoa and a full set of highlighters and-”

“Highlighters?”

“Are you seriously interrupting my fantasy right now?”

His smirk was wicked. “That’s your fantasy?” He stepped closer, sliding into her space. “I can think of some better fantasies than that.”

She rolled her eyes but she felt herself being drawn in, butterflies in her stomach, electric pulses across her skin, inches away from Colt and his eyes crinkling at the corners and his lips right there. “Seriously?” Her eyes darted to the curve of his smirk.

“I have much better fantasies, I can promise you.” He moved to close the distance when a shout from behind made her jump.

“Ellie!” Logan walked through the door and Colt stepped back; if they hadn’t been so infinitesimally close, Ellie never would have heard the soft groan of a curse from deep in his throat. “There you are. Did you need a ride home?”

She flushed, sneaking a quick peek at Colt before nodding.

She had just turned away when she felt a hand circle her wrist. The touch should have been innocent, just a light touch of his fingertips, but the way his thumb stroked her pulse point made heat flash up her veins. “Hey, Ellie?”

“Yeah?”

“Tragic holiday backstory aside...” He looked serious, contemplating her.

“Yeah?” 

“You still look like a Muppet.”

She couldn’t stop the snort that escaped her and it looked like he couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his face either.

~~~~~

"What are you doing?!?" She stopped short as she walked through the front door. Usually, the desk was empty and customers would just duck their head in and scream until someone helped them. Occasionally, Kaneko would sit at the front, giving her a short nod as she slipped by to head into the garage. And she had seen Toby there a couple times, devouring comic books and bobbing to the music blaring from the tinny computer speakers.

But she had never seen this.

"What do you think I'm doing?"

"You look like you're working the front desk."

"Wow. You are every bit as smart as everyone says. I'm really glad the California Educational System is truly equipping the minds of our youth with such fantastic observational skills," Colt deadpanned and turned back to the monitor in front of him.

"But..."

"Yes, I'm working the front desk, Ellie. Jesus."

"Why?"

"A job?"

"But..." She looked around and dropped her voice. "You're a car thief. Why in the world...?"

"My dad said ‘front desk only, Colt’." He mocked and rolled his eyes. "Until I can prove myself, I'm on lame ass front desk duty."

“But...you never used to work the front desk. You just used to bum around and make snide comments!”

“Oh, I’ll still do that, don’t worry. But now I can get paid.”

"What do you need to get paid for?"

"I dunno. Maybe Christmas presents, Ellie,” he scoffed. “Duh. You're the one who likes the holidays. Shouldn't it be obvious?"

“But…”

“But?”

“But your dad,” she dropped her voice before continuing. “Your dad legit steals million dollar cars. Why do you need a job for money?”

He shook his head. “Just because he gets paid doesn’t mean I do.”

"Ok. But...but...since when do you listen to your dad?"

"Since he's my boss?"

As if on cue, Kaneko walked out, clutching a paper and sliding it across the desk before pulling a wrinkled list and credit card from his pocket. "Coffee, please."

Colt raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest. “I will not be the coffee bitch.”

Kaneko seemed nonplussed, small smile gracing his lips. "Do you work here or not?" He was obviously having fun with this.

“I work the front desk, I’m not your fucking errand-”

“I’ll go.” Ellie shrugged, swiping the credit card and coffee order. “It’d be nice to take a walk for a few.”

Kaneko just shook his head at his son and turned his back, walking back into the depths of the shop. She was about to head out but froze when Colt hopped out of the desk chair.

“I’ll go with you.”

“What?” She blinked, staring at him. “I thought you didn’t want to be coffee bit-”

“Shut up. Are we going or what?” He knocked his shoulder into hers to interrupt her tease. 

She smiled, a soft secret one designed to be seen by him and him alone. “Ok. Let’s go.”  

She was amazed when they made it three blocks, an eternity of LA pavement, where her eyes kept finding their way to his no matter how hard she tried to focus on the sidewalk. But right when they pulled the left on Manchester, strong arms pushed her against the brick wall of a pawn shop and, finally, insistent lips found hers. She melted into the kiss, pulling him close by the lapels of his jacket, cool leather a direct contrast to the heat flaming her cheeks, her lips, licking down her spine.

"Ah." She was being held up by the wall behind her and his hands on her hips. Absent those, she was certain she would collapse into a boneless puddle, a stain on the concrete where a girl had been kissed and kissed well. "Is this the reason you wanted to come? It wasn't to help me carry all the coffee?"

"You got me," he huffed low into her ear. "Ulterior motives. I'm actually not helping you at all; I'll just wait here until you pick up the order and then, when you come back, I'll kiss you again."

"Greedy. "

"Hey, I've been trying to get you to myself all week."

She bit her lip and looked up, all coy eyes and sneaky smile. "Well, you definitely don't want to waste this time now, do you?"

And when they finally continued on their way, after two pedestrians made snooty references to getting a room, well, Ellie felt very well-kissed when she got to the counter of the Starbucks.

"Ok. We have a big order, sorry." Ellie peered at the crumpled list, struggling with the variety of unintelligible handwriting. "Toby wants a venti iced frappuccino with a double shot-"

"What? No!" Colt ripped the paper from her hand. "Toby cannot have caffeine."

"Ok…"

"No. I don't think you understand." He grabbed her shoulders so he could look her dead in the eyes. "Toby cannot have caffeine. He once tried an espresso and then decided he wanted to try jogging; Pop had to pick him up in Pasadena when he got tired. Another time, he only had one cup but still was up for 36 hours straight convinced that he was destined to be a world-famous DJ; I had to kick him out when he was trying to make his own dubstep remix on the shop speakers. And then, another time, after having a fucking tea, he tried to redecorate the loft and I had to repaint the entire thing because he designed some half-assed mural of Big Bird eating tacos."

“Big Bird?”

Colt shrugged. 

“Ok, ok, jeez.” She grimaced and turned back to the counter. "Can you make it decaf? And just maybe...not write decaf on the cup so he doesn't know?"

The girl behind the counter did not look amused but still nodded, tapping in the order.

"Ok.” Ellie sighed. “What else do we need?"

Colt peered at the paper in his hand. "A cappuccino with turmeric and honey."

"For Ximena?"

"You got it. Mona wants a venti dark roast, black like her soul."

"Colt, come on..."

"What? That is literally what it says."

She shook her head. "Did Logan want a latte or a mocha?" 

"Latte. A vanilla latte." He focused on the sheet in his hand, scrunching his nose. "And my old man wants tea. Black tea. Black. No soul."

"Did he write that as well?"

"No, that was all me."

"Urgh. Ok, what do you want?"

"Flat white." He inclined his head at Ellie. "And I bet you want a hot chocolate.” 

She looked at him in surprise.

“What? That's what you want, right?”

She blinked at him.

“What?” He was looking at her like she was insane. “You always get that.”

"You know what I get?"

He rolled his eyes. "Oh my God, don't make a big deal of it." She beamed at him. "Stop it. Or I'll make you carry it all back by yourself."

"Ok, fine."

She couldn’t have carried it all back anyways. It was seven drinks, two trays, four hands full with beverages; however, even laden with drinks, Colt still took every opportunity to lean in and capture her lips, ending with an especially long kiss hidden to the side of the bay doors. She had to blink away the sparks from her eyes as she walked in. But, even as she gave out drinks to outstretched hands, the butterflies still remained.

She was savoring the first taste of hot cocoa, sweet and smooth and still warm on her tongue, when Logan took a sip from his cup and shuddered, lips pursing into a grimace. "Hey. I wanted a mocha! What is this?"

Ellie turned to glare at Colt but he was already walking back to the front desk, shoulders shaking in silent laughter and an extra bounce in his step.

~~~~~

"You're on front desk duty, again?"

Colt smirked at her, thumbing through an old magazine. “I’m starting to feel like you’re my boss.”

“Ha. If I were your boss, then you would definitely be disciplined for insubordination.”

He looked at her through eyes half-mast and she immediately realized her mistake. “I don’t know where I should start with that. The idea of you bossing me around or the idea of you punishing me.” He laughed as she flushed scarlet. 

“How do you always make everything so inappropriate?”

“It’s a talent.” He looked past her at the sound of footsteps on concrete and scowled.

She turned and grinned, fully aware of the different reactions Logan inspired. “Hey, you!”

“Hey, Troublemaker.” He slid next to her at the counter, copying her lean so their shoulders brushed, nudging her gently before turning to Colt. “You still on desk duty?”

Colt glowered at him before turning a page so hard she could hear the magazine tear. “Better than pain in the ass duty.”

Ellie rolled her eyes as Logan turned to her, ignoring the jab. “So, Troublemaker, I heard you were quite the fan of the holidays?”

She grinned, barely noticing Colt’s head shoot up in her periphery. “Maybe...why?”

“Well, what do you want for a present?” Logan’s smile was hopeful, disarming as always.

“Oh, stop, nothing.”

“I’m still gonna get you something.” He winked and Ellie could hear paper crinkling in clenched fists. 

“You don’t have to, really.” She tilted her head at him.

“What, my presence is present enough?”

She smirked as Colt gagged behind the desk. “Exactly. That, and you let me drive your car.”

“Free driver’s ed?” Logan put his hand over his heart. “Is that all I am to you?”

“You caught me. It’s like driving school and the opportunity to jump through the window of a sports car, all in one.”

“You wound me.” He rubbed her shoulder. “Ok, I gotta get back to work. Ride home later?”

“Definitely!” 

“What do you want for Christmas, Ellie?” Colt’s sing-song mocked Logan, precisely, an eerily good rendition that made her narrow her eyes at him. At least he had waited until they were alone, until it was only Ellie there to hear him at full brat.

“I want you to be touched by the magic of Christmas, Colt, and stop being such a-"

"If I were you, I'd think of a backup gift."

"Fine." She crossed her arms over her chest. "You know what I want? Snow.”

“You want someone to buy the weather?” Colt leaned back in his chair, throwing his feet up onto the conspicuously bare front desk.

She rolled her eyes at him and leaned over the desk. "You asked what I wanted. I told you. Snow."

"Good luck with that one. It's 75 degrees today."

“Well, you asked…”

“I don’t have snow but…” He fished around in the pockets of his jacket, grinning triumphantly as he opened his clenched fist. “There you go. Twenty-seven cents, a receipt from Kelso’s, and some dirt.”

“Why in the world do you even have coins?”

“To give to you, obviously.” He dropped them with a flourish on the counter. “Merry Christmas.”

~~~~~

"What? Why are you staring at me like that?"

"This is the third time you've been at the desk this week.” She leaned over the desk. “What in the world are you saving up for?"

“I told you. Christmas presents."

"For who?"

"Maybe you, Ellie." The glint in his eye was back, the one that reminded her that poking fun of her was Colt’s favorite pastime.

"Yeah, right. You know what I'm gonna get you?"

"I feel like you're about to tell me."

"Coal."

"Hmm..." he leaned closer. "Is that 'cuz I've been naughty?"

Ellie choked.

He only edged closer and kept going. "I have been bad but I'd be so fucking good for you, El-." He bit his lip and Ellie couldn’t pull her eyes from the way a blindingly white tooth made indents in the tender skin. "I'd do good things for you, do good things to you."

"Jesus." The flush traveled through her body like lightning, heat everywhere. He was so close. She slid a touch closer, just enough to brush her lips against his, but then-

"Colt!" The voice calling his name commanded attention, by tone alone.

She pulled away with a frown and she watched a similar frown grace Colt's face as he replied, "Yeah, Pop?"

“Do you have that paperwork on the Martinez car?”

She was close enough to hear him drop his voice as he opened up a desk drawer. “It’s up your ass.”

“Colt!”

“What?” He flashed her a guilty smile, pulling the papers out of a folder and holding them up. “Here you go, boss.”

~~~~~

Ellie furrowed her brow, confused. She had been looking for Colt but he wasn’t milling around the shop, wasn’t sulking at the front desk, wasn’t anywhere. She bit her lips, nervously. It was Christmas Eve, for chrissake- she wanted to give him her present.

Finally, when she had almost given up, her laps around the shop not going unnoticed by the others, he emerged from downstairs. She made a beeline over but wasn’t able to say a word before she saw his eyes narrow as he looked at the present adorning her neck.

“The hell’s that?”

She toyed with the delicate chain around her neck. “My new necklace. Logan got it. He said that he wanted to get something nicer than a spark plug for me.”

“Pssht.” He rolled his eyes and muttered to himself, “Run a few jobs and all of a sudden you think you’re the Monopoly guy.”

“What was that?”

“I said...it looks nice on you.”

“Liar.” She took a deep breath and reached into her pocket, tightly squeezing the metal ring into the palm of her fist. “I got something for you.” He watched her curiously as she pulled it out and handing it over.  “I didn’t wrap it, sorry.”

“What is it?”

“A keychain. It’s for your keys.”

“No shit, Sherlock. But what is...:”

“Oh, that.” She grinned brightly. “Coal. That’s coal on the end. Seemed appropriate.”

He smirked and opened his mouth before shaking his head and closing it again, obviously thinking better of whatever snide suggestive remark had been on the tip of his tongue. “Thanks, Ellie. Come here.” She followed him to the front desk, where he ducked down into a drawer to emerge with a box, a wrapped present, white ribbon stark around red paper. “Here. This is for you.”

“Wow.” She flushed and took it, gingerly, paper crinkling underneath her fingers. “You wrapped it and everything, this is so nice!”

“Ximena did it for me.” He rocked back on his heels and shoved his hands in his pockets. “You gonna open it?”

She hadn’t been expecting anything from him; other than stolen kisses that made her heart race, they had never really talked about presents or labels or whether he felt any of the same pull she did when their eyes met. She grinned at him beneath slow lashes and slid her index finger under the tape, slowly opening one seal and then, all at once, ripping the paper apart. “Oh my God, you got me hot cocoa!” She clutched the cardboard to her chest. “Dork. Thank you!”

“Yeah, it’s-” he stopped, biting his lip, suddenly shy. “It’s...you should-”

“Hey, Trouble? You ready to go home?” She turned as Logan walked in from the break room, tossing his keys from one hand to the other. “I’ll let you drive if you want!”

“Ok, yeah.” She looked at Colt, who was standing stock-still in front of her, odd look on his face. However, when she raised her eyebrows at him to silently communicate her confusion, he only shrugged. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah.” He shot one last, dark look at Logan before walking away, throwing a quick “Merry Christmas” over her shoulder.

As she took the keys from Logan and adjusted the seat, she couldn’t help but wonder. What was that all about? And, while she totally appreciated the present, what had Colt been saving up for?

~~~~~

She still couldn’t figure it out sitting on her bed, idly playing with her new necklace, sliding the diamond up and down her fingers. Why in the world had Colt been working the desk?

She got up with a frown, grabbing the box of hot cocoa and heading downstairs. At least it was a very sweet gesture. Her house was quiet, dark, her dad out on night shift and, with school on break, there was nothing and no one to distract her.

She pulled a mug off a shelf and paused, looking down. The box was open. She didn’t…

Carefully, she slid her thumb underneath the cardboard tab and pulled, peering inside. There was cocoa in here, two packets. But there was also a parcel, wrapped in tissue paper. She opened it up and laughed. Highlighters. Of course. Asshole.

And some papers, wedged inside. It wasn’t a card, just a piece of white printer paper folded to house a few more sheets of paper. She smoothed them out on the counter and gasped. Two tickets to Tahoe. A hotel reservation. And, in Colt’s careful scrawl: to see the snow.

She blinked. Gasped. And blinked again.

Her hands were shaking as she threw everything back in the box, a trick of packaging if she ever saw one. She ran upstairs to get her phone, her wallet, moving so fast she tripped on the way up and had to peel herself off the carpet. She ordered the Dryve while rushing downstairs, almost falling again, and waited by the front door, toe tapping an anxious song on the hardwood as she clutched the cocoa box.

The car came quick, the ride was quick, but she was impatient. Thankfully, when she opened the back door to the shop, it was still, quiet. No one was there to stop her as she ran downstairs, making her way to the door of Colt’s makeshift room.

She could hear him moving around, the slamming of a drawer and subsequent muttered curse, so she knocked. Loudly. And waited.

His eyes widened when he opened the door and saw her standing there. His eyes narrowed in understanding when he spotted the box in her hand.

“Hi.” Her fingers dug into the box, denting the cardboard. “I opened your present.”

“Good.”

“You didn’t need to-”

“I know.”

She took a breath. “No, you really didn’t need to do-”

“I know.” He shrugged. “But you wanted the snow for Christmas.”

“And it’s my trip.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you coming with me?”

He shook his head, laughing. “You can go with whoever you want, the ticket’s transferable. Right now they’re both in your name.”

“I know.”

“You can take Logan and then the both of you will be outta my hair. Might be nice to get some peace and quiet around here.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Do you really want that? Logan and I going together on this trip you got me?”

He opened his mouth and closed it again.

“Who should I go with, Colt?” She waited, staring expectantly, eyeing him for so long she had to consciously stop the nervous twitch in her thighs.

Finally, finally, finally, after so long she started to reconsider all her life choices, finally he rocked back on his heels and spoke. “Me. I wanna go with you.”

She smiled and launched into his arms, laughing against his lips. And when she came up for air, he was actually beaming, too.

~~~~~

"You are not wearing that vest."

"Oh, I am. There's finally snow, I hafta wear it!"

"I swear to God, I don't know why I'm here."

"Cuz you like me."

"I like the snow."

"Lie. You hate the snow. You'd rather sit inside and glower at the fireplace."

"..."

"You like me."

"I don't like anyone."

"No, you like me."

"Fine. I like you."

"See, Colt? Was that so hard? And it's not so cold if we cuddle up, right? ….hey. Hey, wait a minute. What are you…? Don't you dare-"

"Haha."

"Did you just put snow down my vest?!?"

"...Whoops."

"You are a dead man!"

"Bring it, muppet."

"Dead, Kaneko. Dead!"

And as she tackled him to the ground, she realized the snow was everything she had ever dreamed it was. And then some.

.

Tags:

Perma

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ROD

@omgjasminesimone @mskaneko

Colt

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[thiswasinevitableid]

#53 with Indruck? Also I LOVE 17 and I’m not picky on the pairing. Which Ever you think works the best/most in the mood for, I’d adore to see. ❤️

Decided to tackle 53 first! Prompts are from this list and still open.

53: Your scream woke up the entire building because you’re so damn excited about the snow and I’m going to give you a piece of my mind except you’re really cute.

“WOOO HELL FUCKIN YEAH!”

Indrid falls out of bed, cursing before he even hits the floor. Scrambling to the window, he’s not at all surprised at what he sees. His roommate or, rather, housemate, standing out in the snowfall with his arms out, smiling at the sky. He’s only wearing pajama pants and his ugly Christmas sweater.

If he catches a cold, Indrid is going to lose it. They’re already the only two remaining housemates left, and Duck, usually charmingly calm, has lost his damn mind with Christmas fever. Duck being sick would mean Indrid will get no respite from carols, decorating, and the other man asking his opinion on different gifts. 

He tosses on an oversized sweater, steps into his rainboots, and tromps outside, muttering a dozen, rather unkind fantasies about what he’ll do if Duck doesn’t come inside (and a few lurid ones as well; he’s well past the point of pretending Duck, with his strong arms a soft belly, his fondness for gently teasing Indrid, the little idiosyncrasies he only let’s Indrid glimpse, doesn’t light his heart up like the scraggly Christmas tree in the living room).

“Duck, what in the world has gotten into you?”

The shorter man turns, breathless smile painting his face, snow dusting his dark hair, and Indrid struggles to remain annoyed with him. 

“Hey, ‘Drid! Uh, oh” his brow furrows, “trouble sleepin again?”

“Yes, actually. But that’s not the problem. The problem is you are standing here, yelling, in the middle of the night, and scared me so badly I fell out of bed.”

“Shit, sorry.” Duck smiles, “but, look at it ‘Drid. It’s the first snowfall. It’s fuckin gorgeous.”

“Duck, I moved to the desert specifically to avoid the cold.”

“It ain’t just cold. It makes everythin look peaceful, like nothin bad is ever gonna happen. And you know, can’t have Christmas without snow.” He spins around gazing at the sky like the hero in a hallmark movie. 

“Ah, I see. This is yet another part of the tinsel covered madness that you’ve been under.”

“Huh?”

“Have you honestly not noticed? Duck, ever since the day after Thanksgiving, you’ve been a walking, talking Christmas decoration.”

“So, I like the holiday?” Duck shrugs.

“There’s liking the holiday and then there is subjecting me to a month long parade of cheer!”

Duck looks stunned.

“That’s how you feel about it?”

“It’s. Obnoxious.” Indrid doesn’t mean to snarl. It’s not Duck’s fault. Not really. 

Duck glares, “Jeez, I’m just tryin to enjoy myself. I ain’t goin out of my way to torment you.”

“How is singing carols off key while doing the dishes not tormenting me?”

“You could just tell me to stop.”

“Then you’ll call me a grinch, or some other unimaginative term for someone who doesn’t want to be covered in red and green vomit.” Indrid crosses his arms, kicks a track in the fresh snow.  Glances up to find a familiar smirk on Ducks face. The last time he looked that way it was right before he rattled off the worlds most convoluted brain teaser in order to distract Indrid from a distressing incident at work.

“You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch…” He croons.

“Don’t you dare.” Indrid growls.

“You really are heel.” 

“Gah, how are you getting more off key?” A smile cracks through his grimace.

“Aw, can’t a fella serenade you?”

Indrid squawks, hoping indignance covers his blush, and chucks a handful of snow at Duck. The other man barks a laugh and hops backward. 

“Not a fan of the classics, huh?” 

“Stay still and suffer for your crimes against melody.” Indrid throws more snow.

“When a cold when blows it chills you, chills you to the bone.”

“Don’t you dare use the Muppets against me!”

“Better figure out a way to stop me” Duck dances out of the path of a snowball.

“I will, get back here.”

Duck keeps singing as he jogs ineffectively backwards, “But there’s nothin in nature that freezes your heart like years of bein aloneAH” He trips and tumbles into the snow and Indrid seizes his chance and tackles him. 

Before Duck can open his mouth to continue, Indrid is kissing him. If Duck is surprised by the gesture, he doesn’t show it, cups a chilly hand at the back of his head, encouraging, pleased sounds bubbling from his throat. 

Indrid sits up, shyly, reserves of boldness used up on that one kiss. Duck shifts up onto his hands, walks them forward so he can lean in and kiss him again, breath fogging Indrids glasses as they separate. 

“You feel like continuin this inside? My pants are gettin kinda soggy.”

“Can’t have you suffering too much for your questionable clothing choices” Indrid teases, helping him up, “come on.”

Indrid waits on the couch as Duck changes, enjoying the way the multi-colored lights he hung over the doorway cast strange, stained glass shadows on the walls. 

Duck plops down on the couch, grabbing a thick, snowflake patterned blanket and pulling it over them. 

“Can I confess something?” Indrid whispers. 

“You mean other than your crush on me? Because that boat done sailed.”

“Hush.” Indrid tugs him closer, “There’s another reason I didn’t speak up about how the Christmas overload was bothering me. I, well, it makes you so happy. I know you get homesick, and that studying abroad last year meant no snow. And I so love seeing you happy, I couldn’t bring myself to dampen your joy.”

“You never get homesick?” Duck rests his head on Indrids shoulder. 

“Not unless one can be homesick for a version of home that never existed, rather than the one that did.”

“Heh” Duck takes his hands, running his thumb along the knuckles, “y’know, that’s part of why I went so overboard. I know you got mixed feelins about the holidays, and I was hopin that maybe I could show you how nice they could be if you were with someone who cared about you.”

The answer startles him, and Duck takes the opportunity to kiss his nose. 

“You’d really do that for me?”

“Do a lot of things for you.” Duck grins. 

“I, uh, ah, yes” his world tilts as Duck lays down on the couch, guiding him to rest atop his warm, soft form, “all I ask is that we perhaps discuss what things about this season we might both enjoy. I’ll need to ease into it.”

“Think I can manage that.” Fingers carding his hair now. 

“I’m” he yawns, stretches out before snuggling down “I’m going to fall asleep, on you, I fear.”

“Don’t worry about that none” Duck kisses his forehead, wraps his arms around him, “sleep tight, darlin.”

[thelittleredheadedmusician]

Three Card Draw

For @leonine-eagle as part of the Les Mis Halloween Exchange 2019! Your trick for the prompts mythology au and modern au! I know you asked for pining too and I tried, honest, but I don't think it landed which is why I labelled it gen. Though hopefully I fit in enough friendship feels for you! Regardless I hope you like it and Happy Halloween! Words: 11,617 Rating: T AO3

Being stuck in Limbo for a few centuries was boring. A few thousand years just made him angry.

Zeus had said that he was “a radical even your lauded Prometheus wouldn’t associate with” before chucking him in here. Enjolras was fairly certain he’d been forgotten about by this point.

Not that it made Enjolras any more remorseful. Especially seeing as he wasn’t remorseful to begin with. This just further proved his point that Zeus was a self-important asshat who disrespected women and took advantage of the mortals. It would seem the other gods still wouldn’t listen to him though, if they did maybe he wouldn’t still be in this plane of literal nothing. Or maybe they just couldn’t find him. Or maybe they were too afraid to share his fate.

Regardless, Enjolras wasn’t happy and was getting tired with just arguing with the version of Zeus in his head. Besides, he was a minor god anyway. And the god of freedom. Why was he being punished so severely? What did Zeus expect?

It would have taken him hundreds of years longer before he’d have been even the slightest bit of a threat. At the very least a century. Enjolras had a small following in the northern wilds outside a growing city called Rome; the group was expanding steadily but never at an alarming rate. Or, well, he’d assisted a bit in the Romans establishing a republic and that may have bolstered his following and increased his power. But still not enough to catch the attention of the Greek Pantheon.

Except, some of the Greeks’ followers had come to Rome and as a rapidly expanding city it caught their attention. Enjolras with it. So, he said some things, Zeus was awful, and he was thrown here. The last thing Enjolras heard as the portal closed was Zeus telling his son, Dionysus, that he could have Enjolras’s followers since “intoxication is just a variation on his theme.” That last bit was something that especially pressed on his nerves.

For the umpteenth time Enjolras was finessing the finer points of his argument that freedom did not equate rampancy and debauchery when there was a break in the nothingness. A rectangle had appeared to his right. He couldn’t exactly describe what it looked like beyond the fact that it was something in the nothing. Enjolras didn’t know what this meant or if it might be a trap or a punishment even more severe, but he knew he might not get another chance to leave Limbo. He walked toward it and then through it.

He’d walked right into a room with strips of light coming through window coverings and landing on two sofas, some small tables – all of which were strewn with books both open and closed – and two very shocked young men.

“Holy shit. Ferre, it worked,” the one said in a hushed tone.

“I’ll admit that I’m just as surprised as you are,” his companion replied.

“Are you- are you really a god?” The first asked, eyeing Enjolras suspiciously. Or, more accurately, shifting his suspicious gaze from the book open between them up to Enjolras before going back to the book.

It was quickly dawning on Enjolras that these two men had released him from his prison. Realizing the intelligence, compassion, and will needed to accomplish that quickly endeared the mortals to Enjolras. Besides, the answer was obvious. “What year is it?”

The second man blinked at him from behind two small panes of glass enclosed in some type of dark metal. “2019,” he answered quickly, and added almost as an afterthought, “AD.”

Enjolras frowned and raised his head to the sky, only to be met with a low white ceiling. It was close enough, if Zeus were listening he’d get the point. “Fuck.”

~

“Sometimes I forget that you’re a god,” Courfeyrac remarked from where he was sprawled across the couch in Enjolras and Combeferre’s small apartment. His presence meant there weren’t currently books sprawled there, rather they were piled haphazardly onto the end table by his feet. “But,” he continued, “then you do something like this and I’m abruptly reminded.”

Enjolras glanced down at the bucket of cleaning supplies in his hand before throwing a look to Combeferre who seemed just as confused. Ferre lowered his book to better examine Courfeyrac as he asked, “You mean voluntarily clean the bathroom?”

“Yes!” Courf cried, swooning further into the sofa and making Enjolras roll his eyes to hide his smile. “Marius would never!”

Enjolras snorted. “Well it is Marius.”

Courf scrambled to escape the sofa. Enjolras had learned quickly that it had a tendency to absorb you if you sat there too long and it seemed as though Courfeyrac was the current victim. He’d looked into whose domain crappy apartment furniture fell under and while Combeferre insisted that it was Hestia Enjolras wasn’t too sure, there was no way she’d associate with the abomination that was Ikea. Enjolras was convinced that it was Loki. It was an ongoing debate.

“He is not that bad!” Courfeyrac insisted. Combeferre made a face before going back to his book, leaving Courf to give Enjolras a pleading look. “Really, he’s not.”

Enjolras raised an eyebrow, shifting the bucket to his other hand. “The first time I met him he told me that the gods were long dead and that if you were going to waste your time with religion it should at least be to the Catholic Church because at least they did good as an organization.”

Courf winced. Marius’s first impression had not been a good one and he knew. “That was his family talking, not him. You know that.”

Sighing, Enjolras turned to go scrub the toilet. “I do. I just have a tendency to hold a grudge. That happens when you spend thousands of years stuck in literal nothing.”

Following him to the bathroom Courfeyrac snorted and leaned against the doorjamb. “He’s harmless.”

“I know,” Enjolras admitted. “He’s like the thing from the flim with the singing frog.” He disliked not being able to recall the word. In a matter of months he’d managed to catch up on all the history and culture that he missed, with Courfeyrac and Combeferre as diligent and kind teachers, but there was still a steep learning curve and sometimes things escaped him.

Courfeyrac hadn’t responded so Enjolras stopped his scrubbing to look at him. Courf had tilted his head to the side and drawn his brows together in confusion. “Meet the Robinsons?” he asked slowly.

“No,” Combeferre appeared behind Courf, looking amused but benign. “The Muppets. He’s calling Marius a muppet.”

Courfeyrac looked between them, a pouty frown firmly in place. “Marius is…” he stopped, sighed, and continued, “Marius really is a muppet.”

Combeferre looked smug before turning to go back to the living room. Enjolras just snorted and made to keep cleaning. He’d thought that Courfeyrac had left too until he heard him speak again.

“If you don’t like Marius why are you friends with him? Is it just because you need the followers?”

Enjolras let the brush rest in the toilet and turned to look up at Courf. He understood why the question was asked but it still hurt a bit. Enjolras had quickly grown exceptionally close with Courfeyrac and Combeferre and enjoyed being folded easily into their loose group of friends. They were smart, passionate, and believed in everything that Enjolras had been working for before Zeus had exiled him. Courfeyrac and Combeferre were his brothers. And their other friends were just that, friends.

“No. Marius may be a bit misguided but he’s not the only one. Knowledge about the gods is lacking and something happened and no one seems to know what. It’s not his fault that this lack of knowledge impacted him. He’s a good person and seems to genuinely want to learn. He’s my friend and I want to help him,” Enjolras assured Courfeyrac.

Courf nodded, he sank so that he too was sitting on the cold tile of the bathroom floor. “It’s just… I know that you need followers or worshipers or whatever to regain your power and like the twitter thing isn’t going as well as we thought.”

Enjolras shrugged, he wanted to reach out and put a hand on Courf’s shoulder but seeing as how he was still in the middle of cleaning the toilet thought better of it. “It’s gaining traction faster than anything I used to do and I am getting stronger every day. What’s important though is that there are mortals who want to make the world better for each other because it just proves my point: you never needed gods to begin with, just each other. And you and Combeferre and Feuilly and Joly and Bossuet and yes even Marius are proof of that.”

Courfeyrac seemed to be in better spirits as he leveled a searching look at Enjolras. “How do you do that?”

“What?”

“Say just the right thing?”

Enjolras smirked. “I am a god.”

Courfeyrac laughed and they could hear Combeferre booing the joke from down the hall, making Courf just laugh harder.

~

The weekly meetings at the Musain, a café near Courfeyrac and Combeferre’s university, reminded Enjolras of the rituals that his followers used to conduct. Though these he found much more enjoyable. There was a strident attempt at democracy and even though they all knew Enjolras was a god they never treated him as such. He reveled the egalitarianism of it.

Jehan still insisted that they open every meeting with a poem. Their compositions were far superior to any that Enjolras used to hear though and ranged in topics from soap bubbles to deforestation. Sometimes within the same poem.

It was during Jehan’s reading of a piece on feminism in the film industry that Bahorel ducked into the backroom late, another man on his heels. They settled into seats in the corner, as to not cause a disruption. Enjolras studied the new man as Jehan recited. There was something about the flash of his eyes under his messy curls and the twitch of his mouth that spoke mischief to Enjolras. The same look he’d seen about Hermes, Loki, and Sun Wukong.

Jehan sat down, finished, and rather than snap politely like the others all did the newcomer clapped loudly. He earned a startled look from Jehan and a glare from Enjolras. Bahorel winced and clapped him on the shoulder.

The newcomer looked at Bahorel in confusion. “What? It was good. I’m showing my appreciation.”

Bahorel sighed and made a face at Enjolras that clearly said, “What’re you gonna do?” Enjolras waved it off in favor of looking to Jehan to see what they thought of the whole situation.

They were grinning broadly. “You really enjoyed it?”

“Oh, very much yes,” came the reply. It was enthusiastic and warm but felt like it was the build up to something else and Enjolras was unsurprised as he continued. “The rhythm and cadence? The way you made the syllables fall just so! And-”

“R,” Bahorel interrupted, “why don’t you let me introduce you before you overwhelm Jehan by presenting an impromptu dissertation on their poetry.”

The man called R stopped and grinned. It was lazy and self-deprecating and that mischief was back. Something about it bothered Enjolras but he didn’t know what and he didn’t know why.

“I’m Grantaire,” he said with a sweeping wave of his hand.

Jehan beamed. “R!” they laughed and once it was pointed out Enjolras got the joke too. It was clever and he smiled at it.

“Bahorel beats me up once a week,” Grantaire continued after flashing a warm smile to Jehan.

“I do not!” Bahorel scoffed. He looked like Jason Mamoa’s little brother. Two inches littler and that was it. Compared to Grantaire who, from what Enjolras could tell, was stocky but not tall it wasn’t hard to believe Grantaire.

Grantaire rolled his eyes but his smile never faltered. “’Rel and I box at the same gym and for reasons lost to both of us became sparring partners. He invited me to save the world club and I got tired of saying no.”

Enjolras raised an eyebrow at Bahorel, why would he keep inviting someone who didn’t want to come? Bahorel pointedly ignored him.

Bossuet leaned across the table and immediately swept Grantaire into a discussion with Musichetta and Joly. Enjolras knew he was frowning and was relieved to notice that Eponine was too.

Eponine was suspicious of everyone and it came in handy, she could normally tell how trustworthy a person was within a matter of minutes. Since no one seemed to know what had happened to the other gods, or if Zeus would track Enjolras down should he discover he’d been freed, it meant that keeping Enjolras’s identity as a god a secret was imperative. No one was allowed to know until Eponine gave her nod of approval. Enjolras could have easily confirmed their loyalties himself but he hated doing that, feeling that it was an intrusion of privacy and to ask someone to consent would tip his hand. Besides, Eponine hadn’t been wrong yet.

She glanced back at Enjolras and nodded. It seemed her frown was just mild annoyance and initial distrust. Eponine was settling back into her chair and turning back to listen to something Combeferre was saying. Something about Grantaire still seemed off to Enjolras though so he texted Musichetta quickly.

Enjolras: Do you have your tarot cards?

Musichetta: Never leave home w/out em! Why?

Enjolras: Can you do a reading on Grantaire? Can we trust him?

Musichetta: One sec.

Enjolras pretended to listen to Courfeyrac and Feuilly talk about the essay they were doing for the international relations class they were in together. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Musichetta excuse herself from the table, grabbing her bag and slipping it on. She pressed a hand to Grantaire’s shoulder as she passed, saying something likely along the lines of “be right back” and heading towards the bathrooms. About a minute later Enjolras’s phone lit up with a text from her.

Musichetta: Hanged Man, Wheel of Fortune, and Knight of Cups

Enjolras frowned at the screen. Tarot wasn’t in use before but picking it up was almost intuitive for him, though he did much better when the cards were in front of him. As such, it was taking him a second to recall the meanings of the ones Musichetta texted she’d drawn. For Musichetta it was a second language and she would often have entire conversations with her deck, to the delight and amusement of their friends.

She must have known that he was still working it out because another text appeared.

Musichetta: He has a past he’s not sharing and may not want to share with us. Something happened and I think it still is but ultimately we can trust him. He’s good people Enj.

Enjolras typed out a quick “Thanks” before flipping his phone so it was facedown on the table. He’d wait until she got back to really start but in the meantime he could get everyone’s attention.

“Alright,” he said, just loud enough to be heard over the low rumble of conversation. People quieted and the room’s attention turned towards him. Musichetta slipped back into her seat and gave him a nod. “Since this is Grantaire’s first time joining us and I think we could all do with a bit of a refresher on the twitter front let’s start there. Courfeyrac? Combeferre?”

“Right,” Courf shuffled his chair back so he could stand, “so we set Enjolras up with a twitter because this is the twenty-first century, I’ve read way too much The Wicked and The Divine, and his witty comebacks translate well into two hundred eighty characters or less.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes but didn’t interrupt Courfeyrac.

“So far we’re at a little over a thousand followers and growing steadily. Um, we do need to work on your hashtag game.” He gave Enjolras a serious look and it was all Enjolras could do to not start talking about how he thought they broke up the flow and Courf would fire back about SEO and all sorts of terms Enjolras realized were important for social media but he was only just beginning to understand.

“The testing of followers to power has been… tricky,” Combeferre winced and Enjolras knew he was thinking of the other day in the kitchen. Enjolras used to be able to just will a flame into existence. He’d managed to light a candle and then Courfeyrac and Marius walked in and he’d nearly set the curtains on fire. “It seems that the physical presence of people who believe in Enjolras make him more powerful but that has also made gathering empirical data difficult.”

There was a laugh from the corner of the room and Enjolras turned to see Grantaire looking at them all incredulously. “You do know you sound like you’re talking about a cult? I mean, I told ‘Rel I thought he’d joined a cult but like I wasn’t serious. Look, nobody should be striving to be Jared Leto dude.”

“It’s not a cult,” Enjolras heard himself say flatly. “We’re trying to make the world better.”

“You know that’s exactly what someone leading a cult might say,” Grantaire still smiled but it was sharp and there was a little bit of mania in his expression now. Enjolras watched as he pulled a flask from somewhere in his coat and took a swig. “Or, you know, a new religion. Which is kinda like a cult. Now fuck Zeus, guy’s a dick who can’t keep his dick in his pants, but like I doubt that any of the gods are gonna go in for you trying to turn yourself into one. Believe me, it doesn’t work like that.”

Enjolras was instantly impressed and just as quickly furious. It was brave to speak so glibly about any of the gods and especially Zeus. Then again, what did this man know? No one knew anything about the gods except the gods themselves and as far as they could tell Enjolras was the only god around.

“Oh, and you’ve tried?” Enjolras heard himself saying before he could stop.

Grantaire just raised his brows and took another long pull from his flask. Enjolras knew what Dionysus looked like and it wasn’t the man at the other end of the table. Something about the angle of the brows and the mocking tilt of the lips and the flask in hand reminded Enjolras of him though and that made him see red.

“There’s no need to become a god when you already are one!” Enjolras threw his hands onto the table, pushing himself to his feet. He could feel his palms getting hot and his chest heaving as he breathed.

Grantaire just stared back from across the table. Enjolras saw there was satisfaction in his expression, Enjolras having confirmed his suspicions and risen to the challenge.

Someone was tugging on the sleeve of his sweater and Enjolras turned to see Combeferre giving him a look. It was part reprimand, part warning and Enjolras knew he needed to heed it. Combeferre was wise beyond his years and much smarter than Enjolras, which they both knew. He also had a much cooler head and was able to direct Enjolras’s anger much better than Enjolras himself was.

He returned to his seat, avoiding his other friends’ eyes and the smug look Grantaire seemed to be sending his way. The spot on the table where his hands had pressed smoked slightly and the plastic had warped. Enjolras felt himself flush as he examined it.

“Yeah,” Courfeyrac said, naturally filling in the awkward silence. He tried to catch Enjolras’s eye but quickly realized that was futile and stopped. “So, like I was, um, explaining? Since the gods draw power from their followers, we’re trying to get Enjolras social media followers and hope the sentiment transfers!”

Where Combeferre took Enjolras’s anger and pointed it at a target, Courfeyrac was able to shape it. Not blunt it, though sometimes he was able to do that too, but turn it into something that was wieldy. Focused. The easy cadence of his voice even now was helping to pull Enjolras back to the present. Not the past, where he was trapped and powerless. Or to the future he dreamt of and longed for and knew with enough help he could achieve. But the present where he was surrounded by his friends who believed in that future and wanted to do what they could to make it a reality.

Courf’s voice had been working, centering Enjolras in the here and now, until Grantaire interrupted. Again.

“Ho-ly fuck,” Grantaire laughed. Enjolras whipped his head up to look at him and this time he really did look manic. “You really are a cult!”

There was some general sputtering and cries of outrage and Courfeyrac was saying “What? No. What? No! We- we- we don’t even have water!”

Enjolras found himself taking a deep breath, closing his eyes, and opening them to focus on Grantaire. “You came because you were curious, for one reason or another, about what we do. We’re trying to help people and it just so happens that I have the ability to do a little more than the average. The gods have mistreated mortals for eons, using them as playthings and pawns. Then, leaving them to be crushed under the rubble of the wars the gods have wrought. We’re saying no more. No more fate or interference, just the freedom to live as you want without dealing with the fallout of beings too powerful and arrogant to give a shit.”

The room had gone silent; if he tried Enjolras was sure he might be able to hear breathing and heartbeats but even that seemed like a stretch in the hush that had fallen.

For the first time all evening Grantaire’s face had gone blank. “You want a revolution,” he said flatly.

Enjolras opened his mouth to contradict but Grantaire had cut him off.

“You want a revolution. Never mind the fact that the gods have fucked off ages ago. Never mind the fact that in a fight with a god all your so-called friends would die and you would be the lone martyr left standing. Who can’t be killed but certainly wouldn’t be allowed to just walk free. No, that wouldn’t matter because you have justice and righteous fury on your side. But wait, I don’t see Forseti or Sekhmet here? Oh, right. Because the gods have all fucked off and left the mortals to rot. How can you fight something that’s not even there?”

“I’m here,” Enjolras said with certainty.

“Good for you! I’ve spent half my life cursing Zeus and you know what? He still hasn’t shown. I feel like my evidence is more damning.” At that Grantaire stood, stuffing his flask back into one of the many pockets on his jacket. “Well ‘Rel, this was fun. Or something. Bossuet, Joly, give me a call and we’ll put a D&D game together.” He walked out the door saying, “I’ll just go, figure you don’t want non-believers in your little cult.”

Nobody moved in the wake of Grantaire’s leaving. Enjolras just blinked at the door, upset and hurt but he didn’t understand why. Not Grantaire’s words, but his leaving was certainly the cause. But why would that upset Enjolras?

Bahorel finally broke the tension. “Dude, I am so sorry. I didn’t- He’s not- I thought he’d be cool, y’know?”

Enjolras nodded. He felt himself relax as everyone seemed to refocus. Grantaire wasn’t the first naysayer Enjolras had met and he wouldn’t be the last. So why did he bother him so much?

~

Enjolras was shocked then when Grantaire appeared at the Musain the next week. He walked in late and carrying a bottle of wine but he didn’t interrupt, just sat in the back drinking and occasionally scoffing at something that had been said. He’d left as soon as the official meeting ended and took his bottle with him.

The next week the scene repeated itself. Again and again, week after week.

Finally, Enjolras was so infuriated by his own inability to work out Grantaire’s motivations he just asked. Breaking off in the middle of speaking he turned slightly to better address Grantaire, “What are you doing here?”

“Not being disruptive?” Grantaire hazarded, confusion plain on his face. “Or would you rather I be disruptive? Because I can be, don’t think I can’t.”

Enjolras huffed. “Oh, I am abundantly aware.”

Grantaire smiled, the expression what Courfeyrac would have called shit eating. “Well,” Grantaire said with sickening sweetness, “then the choice is yours.”

Enjolras felt his face heat. He turned and continued to address his friends. He could see Grantaire drinking from the bottle out of the corner of his eye.

The rest of the night was no different than any other, except that Grantaire stayed until the end. Enjolras was talking with Feuilly about an upcoming protest they were planning to attend when he saw that Grantaire was still there, helping Bossuet move one of the tables back to its place against the wall.

As everyone else filed out Enjolras lingered, noticing that Grantaire did too. Soon the other man was ducking out after Marius and Cosette, leaving Enjolras with Courfeyrac and Combeferre.

“That was odd,” Combeferre commented, nodding after Grantaire.

“Aw, R’s harmless,” Courfeyrac waved it off, shrugging on his jacket. “He drinks too much and runs his mouth but he’s not a bad guy. If you don’t believe me use your weird godly powers to check for yourself.”

Enjolras made a noncommittal noise to that. “I just, I don’t understand why he keeps coming if he doesn’t believe in us.”

“He’s a skeptic.” Combeferre said it like it was a fact. Sunlight reflecting off gases in the atmosphere made the sky blue. Enjolras was a god in exile. Society benefits when women are given opportunities. Grantaire was a skeptic. “He wants to see if we can actually prove him wrong.”

Enjolras scoffed at that. He flipped the lights off as he closed the door to the back room behind them. Courfeyrac patted both Enjolras and Combeferre on the back before going to flirt with the baristas, who were definitely trying to see which one he’d ask out on a date first.

“Look, you’re going to think what you want and I won’t stop you. Just, that’s my opinion on the matter,” Combeferre gave him a level look. “If you don’t believe me you can always ask him yourself. And not in the middle of a meeting leaving him open to public embarrassment.”

Enjolras widened his eyes. “That’s not-”

“I know. He might not have.”

Enjolras cursed. It was ancient and long and his friends always begged him to tell them what it meant but it didn’t translate well so he never did.

Combeferre just smiled, shrugging. He gave a little two finger salute off the corner of his glasses before turning and weaving his way towards the door. He was heading back to the university to get some work done, meaning Enjolras had hours of an empty apartment ahead of himself to stew on the evening.

Enjolras took one last glance to the counter where Courfeyrac was fluttering his eyelashes at the girl with the pixie cut and glasses. She seemed unimpressed which was a far cry from her coworkers. There was no way Courf would be joining him to walk to the metro station anytime soon. Enjolras stuffed his hands in his coat pockets and headed towards the door.

He shouldered the door open and immediately flinched at the shock of the drizzle. Enjolras grumbled at the weather and everyone he could think of who might be responsible for it as he turned to walk down the sidewalk. He was brought up short though by the figure leaning against the wall just under the awning and sipping a cup of coffee.

“Grantaire?” Enjolras asked incredulously.

“Knew you’d be the last one out.”

It was all the confirmation Enjolras needed. “I’m not. Courfeyrac is still in there,” he huffed.

Grantaire laughed, but it didn’t sound mocking. It sounded genuinely amused. Enjolras frowned, suddenly off balance.

“You know I never thought the god of poetry would be so fucking literal.”

“What?” Enjolras felt like he was getting whiplash, so thrown and unsure of what was currently happening.

Grantaire gave him an incredulous look. “Oh, come off it. You’re obviously Apollo, god of the sun and poetry and healing and music and a million other things.”

There was a lot wrong with that sentence but Enjolras managed to zero in on the most minor thing in his shock.

“Apollo isn’t the sun god, Helios is.”

Grantaire looked at him like he was crazy as he sipped from the cup. “Where have you been? They gave Apollo and Artemis the sun and moon ages ago.”

Enjolras frowned. “I was exiled.”

“No shit,” Grantaire laughed. “I mean, it was kinda obvious you weren’t in good standing.” He gestured with a nod back towards the café.

“No.” Enjolras squeezed his eyes shut as he shook his head. “No, I mean I was literally thrown into limbo.”

When he looked back at Grantaire he’d frozen and there was an undecipherable look on his face. But just for a second before it had flashed back to some color of amusement.

“You’re saying Dante actually got that bit right?” He teased.

Enjolras responded with a flat expression.

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “Go on, tell me how wrong I am.”

“It’s a term that is used to describe a pocket dimension wherein nothing exists, not even time.”

“Hmm. Fascinating.” Grantaire raised his eyebrows over the rim of his cup.

“You’re enjoying this,” Enjolras accused.

“Only minimally.”

“Why?”

“It’s amusing? You’re very easy to rile.”

Enjolras huffed, crossing his arms. He assumed that Grantaire chuckled but Enjolras was trying too hard to ignore the other man to tell for sure. He was stubborn but his curiosity won out and his mind had circled back to the beginning of their conversation in the silence.

“Did you really think I was Apollo?”

Grantaire spluttered a bit on his drink, coughing before he answered. “Well yeah. I mean, the whole blonde halo of hair kinda implies it as did the grand speeches and well it wasn’t a perfect fit, but it was a damn good guess.”

Enjolras hummed. He stared out at the street were a car passed, mist making swirling clouds in its lights.

“So I was wrong, I’m used to that. Do I get another guess or would you be so kind as to enlighten an unworthy creature like myself?” The delivery was dry but the bite of acid was still audible in Grantaire’s words.

Enjolras’s brows furrowed and he turned to look at Grantaire again.

Grantaire blinked and took another sip. “We can make it an exchange if you’d rather. You ask me a question and I give you an answer. In fact, you ask me two questions and I’ll answer both.”

Enjolras didn’t see the point or really follow what exactly Grantaire meant but this had been the longest interaction they’d had and so far it wasn’t crashing and burning. Which was exciting if only for the novelty. So, he did as Grantaire had said.

“What’s in the cup?” It was a genuine curiosity because Enjolras had never seen him drink anything that didn’t contain alcohol.

Grantaire gave a slow smile and swirled the cup once. It made Enjolras note the hand warmers he wore, knit from dark purple yarn they looked remarkably similar to the ones that Feuilly had made for him a few weeks before, in fact the only difference that he could see were that his own were gold. It made Enjolras wonder when the two had become friends and how he had not noticed. In fact, the longer that he thought about it the longer Enjolras realized that Grantaire had befriended all of Enjolras’s friends over the past few weeks, gestures and snatches of conversation and off-handed mentions all suddenly righting themselves in his memory.

He was pulled from his musings as Grantaire answered. “Mulled wine.”

Enjolras sighed. Right, most of those memories had something or other to do with nights out on the town and most, if not all, included heavy drinking.

“And where did you get mulled wine?”

“Uh, uh, uh,” Grantaire tutted, waggling a finger. “That’s your second question, you sure you want to waste it?”

Rolling his eyes was Enjolras’s only response. He couldn’t see anything else about Grantaire that could possibly interest him.

“Alright,” Grantaire shrugged. “Suit yourself. I made it.”

Now Enjolras was surprised and genuinely curious. He studied Grantaire to see if he might be teasing him in some way. Grantaire raised his eyebrows and tugged the corner of his lip up in a smirk.

“I bet now you wished you had asked a different question. Or had the ability to ask a third.”

Enjolras glared. Now Grantaire was teasing him.

Grantaire’s smirk turned into a smile. “Fine, I’ll take pity on the poor god and tell you one way you can make mulled wine. Granted, this would be for some shit mulled wine but still drinkable.”

“How kind,” Enjolras said dryly.

“Hmm, yes, thank you,” Grantaire preened. “You order a cup of hot apple cider, but you ask them to only fill it halfway. Then you go to the little bar with the creamers and what not and add extra cinnamon and sugar and steal a stirrer. Then, you fill the cup with your own wine and stir.”

He wasn’t able to help himself, Enjolras wrinkled his nose and took a half step back in mild revulsion. “That sounds disgusting.”

“I did warn you it wouldn’t be great.”

“Still.”

“You asked and I went above and beyond the call of duty to tell you about that. Now, I believe you owe me something?”

Enjolras sighed. He glanced over his shoulder, making sure no one was leaving the Musain before he spoke. “Liber.”

“No shit,” Grantaire whispered as his eyes widened. “No shit. You’re literally liberty leading the people.” He laughed and that hint of mania was back. Enjolras stepped towards Grantaire, reaching out to steady him if he had to. Grantaire jumped back as though Enjolras’s touch would burn him as he kept laughing and muttering “no shit.”

“Yes,” Enjolras hissed. He was hurt by Grantaire’s reaction. It made no sense for him to be and yet he was. “Now can you stop that?”

“Sorry, sorry. It explains so much though. Wow.”

Grantaire’s response was getting excessive. A sudden flare of annoyance flashed through Enjolras and he curled his hands into fists, feeling his nails bite into his palms as they heated up.

“You wanted to know,” he bit out.

Finally, Grantaire caught on to Enjolras’s mood and pressed his lips into a thin line, obviously trying to sober up. However, Enjolras bitterly thought that sober was not something applicable to Grantaire.

“My curiosity has been sated,” Grantaire said, holding up his hands in an attempt to dissuade or perhaps ease Enjolras’s temper.

“Yes,” Enjolras replied shortly. “Now, I really have been standing out in the rain long enough. Goodnight Grantaire.”

“I thought that the gods weren’t bothered by little things like weather?”

Enjolras had turned to stride off but now he pulled up short, glancing back at Grantaire over his shoulder. “Some have gone numb to the mundane, I hope to never do that. Especially after knowing only nothing for so long. Besides, why should the gods not experience life the same as the mortals they seek to rule?”

Grantaire didn’t answer and Enjolras didn’t expect him to as he continued once more towards the metro.

~

During the next meeting Grantaire came in late and sat in his usual corner. Enjolras ignored him as Cosette went over the process they would need to complete for a permit if they wanted to host a rally. When she finished Enjolras thanked her and stood to continue, except he couldn’t ignore Grantaire anymore because Grantaire was loudly questioning why they were having the rally in the first place. Enjolras explained but Grantaire continued to question until it had dissolved into little more than a heated debate, their friends observing it as one might a particularly interesting tennis match. And it did resemble one, with the speed of their volleys back and forth.

And so it went. Every meeting Grantaire would interrupt Enjolras, sometimes with rants and others pointed questions, picking apart whatever he’d been saying. It frustrated and infuriated Enjolras.

“I hate him,” Enjolras said after one meeting, flopping facedown onto his couch. That was one thing he liked about the twenty-first century: the couches were comfortable yet sturdy enough for the perfect melodramatic sulk.

“No, you don’t,” Courfeyrac called from where he was raiding their kitchen, Enjolras could hear the cabinets being opened and closed.

“I do,” Enjolras insisted. Except he said it into the cushions, so it came out as a muffled garble.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that,” Combeferre teased. Enjolras could hear him smirking. “Maybe if the immortal being wasn’t pouting like a toddler, we’d be able to hear what he’s whining about.”

Enjolras pushed himself upright and threw a withering glare at Combeferre where he’d settled into the armchair.

“Well fuck. It actually worked,” Courfeyrac looked as shocked as he sounded, a corn chip frozen halfway between the bag and his mouth.

Rolling onto his back Enjolras huffed out a sigh. “Why does he bother? He obviously doesn’t care about what we’re trying to do!”

He felt his feet being lifted and raised his head to see Courfeyrac holding them so he could settle on the couch and let Enjolras’s feet rest in his lap. “You could always ask him?” Courf suggested now that he was comfortable.

“But why would Enjolras do that? When he’s obviously perfectly content to just complain about it on end instead,” Combeferre said dryly.

He didn’t deem that worthy of a verbal response so Enjolras just stretched out his arm and flicked his middle finger up instead.

“Every day I understand Zeus’s reasoning for sticking you in Limbo a little bit better,” Combeferre told him mildly. Courfeyrac snorted and then nearly choked on a corn chip. Enjolras rushed to sit up so he could make sure that Courf didn’t actually choke on a corn chip but thankfully he was already coughing and waiving off any assistance.

“This is what comes of you trying to make a joke,” Enjolras said darkly, flicking a hand towards Courfeyrac.

That time Courfeyrac did choke on a corn chip while laughing and Enjolras had to divine him better.

As Courfeyrac gulped down water in the kitchen Combeferre raised an eyebrow at Enjolras.

“Touché.”

“And just fucking talk to Grantaire before one of you gets me killed!” Courfeyrac called from the other room.

~

“Wait!” Joly called as people started to set the backroom back to rights. “Before you go! Halloween party! Two weeks! At our apartment! You must wear a costume but need not bring anything. That is all.”

“I thought that Samhain was a Celtic holiday,” Enjolras said to Combeferre.

“Yes, but like most everything else in the past three thousand years it’s changed,” Combeferre joked.

Enjolras made a face.

“R,” he overheard Bossuet lament, “you have to come. It’s mandatory.”

“And if you don’t I’ll be cross and you’ll be sorry,” Musichetta added. Enjolras was trying not to listen in but the room was small and they were loud and there wasn’t currently anything else to distract him.

“I don’t have a costume so really I can’t,” Grantaire was insisting.

Enjolras couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows and open his mouth. “It doesn’t seem in character for you to turn down such bacchanalia.”

Grantaire sputtered and it turned into a coughing fit. Bossuet clapped him on the back and Joly seemed to procure a cup of water from somewhere and pushed it into Grantaire’s hands. “I’m fine, fine,” he said as he got his breath back, waving off their help.

“Are you sure?” Enjolras asked. He might not get along with Grantaire, but he didn’t dislike the man. Besides, it was in his nature to care for all people.

“Yeah, you, uh, surprised me.”

Joly and Enjolras exchanged a look and Joly once again pressed the cup of water into Grantaire’s hands. This time he accepted, taking a drink before turning back to Enjolras with a challenging expression on his face.

“Are you going, oh fearless leader?” he asked.

Joly and Bossuet both turned expectant eyes on him while Musichetta raised her brows in a subtle but noted threat. “I had no intentions of not.”

“D’you have any ideas for your costume? I mean, you have time obviously, that’s why I wanted to say something tonight, but I was just curious,” Joly said excitedly.

Enjolras couldn’t help but smile at his friend’s enthusiasm. “Not yet, but I’m open to suggestions.”

He caught the look Grantaire gave him. It was somewhat quizzical and something else that wasn’t quite decipherable.

Enjolras left the Musain with Musichetta, Bossuet, and Joly tossing different ideas around, their voices overlapping and echoing out into the night. But, Enjolras couldn’t focus on anything but the memory of Grantaire, who had disappeared off into the night.

~

Enjolras adjusted his hat again, for probably the hundredth time in the last hour. Courfeyrac had talked him into dressing as a pirate for the party, arguing that they lived a life of freedom and fought against societal constraints and so Enjolras should be able to relate to pirates if only in an abstract way.

Lacking any better ideas and being presented with the poofy white shirt, foam sword, and oversized hat by Courfeyrac made Enjolras agree to the costume. He’d added his own black vest and skinny jeans. Combeferre had pointed out that a real pirate would be wearing tall leather boots rather than the Doc Martens Enjolras had gone with but he’d responded to that comment by flipping Ferre off.

He’d resolved to wear it with all the dignity he could muster, resulting in more than one compliment from his friends. “You’re like a blonde Will Turner,” Jehan had told him solemnly.

Enjolras wasn’t positive who that was but when he’d asked Courfeyrac he was given an appraising look and a “You know you kinda are?” Then Bahorel had snuck up behind Courfeyrac and thrown him over his shoulder and the two spun away laughing.

Musichetta had appeared then, sweeping over and trying not to hit anyone with her butterfly wings. She hugged him before holding at arm’s length to examine him. “I told R you’d show but he didn’t believe me. And he laughed at me when I said you’d even scrounged up a costume and yet here you are, looking wonderfully ridiculous.” She smiled brilliantly and the glitter on her cheeks sparkled in the purple fairy lights.

“I haven’t seen Grantaire, is he here?” Enjolras asked. He’d been trying to spot him since they’d arrived but hadn’t seen so much as his shadow among his friends.

Musichetta frowned, just slightly with her pink painted lips turning down and her brow wrinkling. “He’s been hiding in the kitchen all night. I don’t know why, he loves parties.”

Enjolras found that odd too. He’d admit that he didn’t know Grantaire very well at all but from what he did know he could tell that was out of character.

He made to say something to Musichetta about it, but she’d turned away to talk to Bossuet whose costume seemed to just be a blanket slung over his shoulders. Enjolras took the opportunity to slip away, heading towards the kitchen.

It was a long and narrow room tucked just off the side of the living room. While the rest of the apartment had been strung in fairy lights and was dark and loud with the sound of music, the kitchen was bright and quiet. Enjolras blinked at the sudden change. He turned to see Grantaire standing at the stove, stirring an overlarge pot.

“What are you supposed to be?” He asked before he could stop himself. From hear it looked as though Grantaire was wearing his normal jeans and flannel.

Enjolras had caught Grantaire by surprise and he startled, dropping the wooden spoon so that it clattered against the side of the pot.

“Fuck. Warn a guy?”

“Sorry,” Enjolras winced, stepping further into the kitchen.

Grantaire closed his eyes and took a breath, likely trying to slow his heart back down. “Hello Enjolras, happy Halloween. So good to see you too,” he said sarcastically with his eyes still closed. When Grantaire opened them he raised an eyebrow and Enjolras felt himself flush.

“Er, right. Happy Halloween.”

That made Grantaire’s lips twitch up into a grin. He nodded, satisfied. “I’m the fourth part of Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta’s lifecycle of a butterfly.”

Enjolras raised an inquisitive eyebrow. Joly had clearly been the caterpillar, he now understood that Bossuet was supposed to be the cocoon, and Musichetta was the butterfly but he still couldn’t tell what Grantaire was supposed to be.

With a snort Grantaire reached towards the other side of the stove and grabbed something that was leaning against the counter. When he held it up Enjolras could see that it was an overlarge flyswatter. “I’m The End.”

It was terrible, Enjolras couldn’t help but groan at how truly awful it was. Grantaire smiled and laughed happily. Enjolras couldn’t remember ever making Grantaire laugh before, or it least not like that. Normally if he was laughing it was because he thought Enjolras was stupid. This felt more like he was laughing with Enjolras rather than at him.

He went back to stirring whatever it was in the pot and Enjolras couldn’t stop his curiosity. “What’s that?”

“Mulled wine.”

Enjolras flashed back to the first night they spoke and felt his nose wrinkle at the mulled wine Grantaire had talked about then.

Grantaire must have remembered it too. He shook his head, “No this is the real thing. It’s nearly ready, do you want some?” Grantaire had grabbed a mug and a ladle and began to serve it.

Accepting it caused Enjolras’s fingers to brush against Grantaire’s. Grantaire jerked his hand back and Enjolras felt something sink in the pit of his stomach. He ignored it and took a sip of the wine, it was warm and sweet with just the slightest kick.

“This is really good!”

“Don’t sound so shocked,” Grantaire said lightly but there was an edge to it.

“No, really. This is fantastic.”

“You don’t have to fawn over it, it’s just wine.”

“Why must you contradict everything I say?” Enjolras asked, frustrated.

“Because you’re not always right! You act like you know everything and can just show up out of nowhere and save the world! Well you haven’t been here and you haven’t seen the things I have and you’re just so naïve!”

Enjolras stopped. He didn’t know how to respond to Grantaire’s outburst. Grantaire himself even looked as though he didn’t know how to respond to the outburst.

“I am so sorry,” he whispered quickly, staring wide-eyed at the stove and refusing to look up.

Enjolras shook his head. “No,” he said softly, “it’s ok. It makes sense that you would feel that way.”

Grantaire gulped. The silence that stretched between them was excruciating. From the other room floated the sounds of their friends laughing and the thump of the music. Enjolras finally set his mug on the counter and turned to leave. Grantaire still hadn’t moved.

~

For the first time Enjolras was nervous when he saw Grantaire slip in during the meeting after the party. He had no idea what the other man might do or say and, well it didn’t scare him exactly, but he was anxious.

Yet, nothing happened. Much like the meetings following the first that Grantaire had attended he sat and drank, saying nothing. He didn’t even so much as react to Enjolras. It was odd and more than once Enjolras found himself waiting to be interrupted and nearly stumbling when he wasn’t.

They ended earlier than normal and Enjolras couldn’t help but think it was because he and Grantaire hadn’t argued.

As everyone else started talking and stacking chairs Grantaire made to leave. Enjolras ran after him.

He caught Grantaire just as he was exiting the Musain, his breath coming out in a cloud in the chilly night air as he said “Wait!”

Grantaire stopped, then slowly turned around. He had his hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat and his shoulders hunched. Grantaire didn’t say anything, just stood there looking at Enjolras expectantly.

Honestly, Enjolras hadn’t planned this far ahead.

He froze as he mentally floundered. He normally was so careful and proud of his organizational skills. Even if Combeferre now refused to go shopping with him because Enjolras was too anal retentive. It was the one thing the other gods had actually liked about him.

Grantaire just stood there, waiting. Enjolras had to say or do something or else he might just walk away and he couldn’t let that happen.

“Why do you think that the social media follower idea isn’t working? Or at least it’s not working on the scale we expected. I have thousands of followers, but I don’t feel any stronger than I did a few months ago. Though a few months ago I suddenly felt stronger than I ever have.”

“What?” Grantaire blinked. Enjolras opened his mouth to keep trying to explain but Grantaire shook his head. “No, I mean, why are you asking me?”

“Because you’re smart and everyone else has given their ideas but you haven’t and I’m curious.”

“No.” Grantaire shook his head. “You don’t like when I share my opinions because they contradict yours. Why?”

Enjolras couldn’t name it. He just knew he needed Grantaire to tell him. He grumbled in frustration. “Because! Because you make me think! And you make my arguments stronger and remind me why I have to do this and you make me better!”

That at least got a reaction from Grantaire other than blank staring. He chuckled darkly instead. “You don’t really believe that.”

“I do!” Enjolras insisted and he realized he did. Grantaire’s apathy and cynicism pissed him off but it did make him think harder and fight more and he appreciated that. Right now though, in the face of it, Enjolras was just pissed. “Unlike you who doesn’t believe in anything!”

Grantaire’s face had gone blank again, but this time there was something cold behind his eyes. No, not cold, missing. There was something missing from behind Grantaire’s eyes as he stood there starring back at Enjolras. “Wrong as usual,” he finally said softly, devoid of any emotion.

Enjolras frowned and stepped towards Grantaire, expecting the other man to move he was surprised when instead Grantaire just ducked his head. Enjolras was so close to Grantaire and yet it wasn’t close enough. Testing his luck, he continued to walk forward until they were standing right in front of each other in the cold night air.

Finally, finally Grantaire did more than stare at his scuffed-up converse. He raised his head and met Enjolras’s gaze with a never before seen ferocity. This close he had to tilt his head up and Enjolras ducked his own in order to accomplish it.

He watched and tensed as Grantaire took a deep breath. A car passed and the door to the Musain opened and closed a few feet behind them but Enjolras was entirely focused on Grantaire, curiosity and anger still warring in his veins.

“I believe in you.” Grantaire said it with such weight that Enjolras actually took a step back. That wasn’t the only reason he’d stumbled though, Enjolras had been suddenly overcome with such a surge in his power that he was physically thrown off balance.

Grantaire caught him, shooting a hand out to grab his elbow and steady him.

Enjolras could do little more than stand there blinking at Grantaire as he tried to process the events of the last thirty seconds. A warm gratitude was spreading through his stomach mixed with an excited twinge of anxiety, curiosity and thrill raged at the amount of power he now felt he had, and over laying it all was layers and layers of shock. Shock for the power. Shock at Grantaire. Shock at himself for the relief he felt to know that Grantaire didn’t really hate him like he’d thought for months now.

“Are you ok?” Grantaire asked, he was studying Enjolras with concern and had managed to guide them from out of the middle of the sidewalk to the Musain’s brick wall.

“I- Yeah- I- Headrush,” Enjolras breathed out as he looked at Grantaire with wide eyes.

Grantaire looked back at him with entirely too much worry and Enjolras felt surprise wash over him again. “Do you want to sit down?”

“I- No- I- I’m good,” Enjolras said. He knew it’d be more convincing if he could actually speak but he now had a full grasp of the ‘speechless’ and ‘dumbstruck’ idioms.

They stood there studying each other, Grantaire with a frown pulling at his brow and Enjolras knew he was gaping like a fish but he felt that was excusable.

Seemingly satisfied that whatever danger Enjolras may or may not have been in had passed Grantaire began talking. Well, began cracking jokes that Enjolras quickly realized had always been his way of deflecting or processing.

“Now I know my having personhood can’t come as that much of a shock; Combeferre is the philosopher, I’m sure he’s talked to you about James,” Grantaire said wryly. It wasn’t effective at hiding his feelings though because Enjolras could still clearly see the frown at his brow.

“You don’t believe in what I’m trying to do,” Enjolras stated. It was a fact. He was still processing and he needed to know what of his impressions of Grantaire were right and which were wrong and where that growing anxiety was coming from.

“I don’t believe that we’re actually able of accomplishing the sweeping change you’re calling for.”

Now Enjolras was frowning and Grantaire was blinking. It was subtle but the way Grantaire said it was very specific. The stared at each other, a silent challenge to see who would explain first.

It was Grantaire. “I don’t think that it’s possible, I don’t believe it will actually work. But,” Grantaire took a deep breath and closed his eyes, almost like he couldn’t bear to look at Enjolras as he spoke, “I believe in you. I believe that you can and will accomplish anything that you put your mind too. I believe that you can change the world.”

Again, Enjolras felt like he was being hit with a wave as his powers surged. His knees buckled and he flung an arm out to hold himself up against the brick. Carefully, he lowered himself to the ground until he was sitting on the gum-stained sidewalk.

Crouching in front of him Grantaire hovered and his mild panic was now palpable. “Are you ok? Seriously Enjolras, are you ok? You’re a god, you can’t get sick. Please tell me you’re ok.”

Taking a shuddering breath Enjolras nodded. “I- it’s- I don’t know,” he admitted.

Grantaire frowned and made to stand, obviously going to fetch Joly or Combeferre who would do little good – not for their still incomplete medical training but for the fact that they did not treat gods. And while Combeferre had stumbled across the spell that had released Enjolras from Limbo and he and Courfeyrac had successfully completed it that was the beginning and end of his magic dabbling. Jehan, who hosted seances and monitored corpse roads, or Musichetta, with her tarot cards and uncanny ability to know the next song before it was played, would probably be more help.

Quickly, Enjolras snatched Grantaire by the sleeve and held him in place. “I’m fine, just need to get my bearings.”

He looked skeptical, but when did Grantaire not look skeptical? He stayed though, lowering himself to sit cross-legged on the freezing cement too.

As they sat there Enjolras’s heart slowed, which had been beating hard enough that it was only now that it wasn’t pounding did he even realize it had been. His breathing returned to normal. His palms still tingled but he knew that would settle eventually.

Grantaire sat watching him with quiet curiosity. His lower lip had been pulled between his teeth to worry. It slipped free as Grantaire gave him a shaky smile. “You sure you’re ok?”

Enjolras nodded. He was still collecting himself and part of that meant that he was trying to parse out how much of what just happened he felt he should share with Grantaire. Much like his earlier revelation, Enjolras suddenly knew that not only could he trust Grantaire, but he had trusted Grantaire for a long time now. If he hadn’t he never would have let his friends share so much of their plans during meetings. More importantly, he’d trusted Grantaire the very first time he’d followed him out of the Musain. He could trust him now.

“I’m fine,” Enjolras assured him. He relaxed, the rough edges of the bricks catching on the shoulders of his jacket. Grantaire seemed to relax at this too, settling more on the concrete. “I’ve been slowly rebuilding my power as I gain followers, right?”

Grantaire’s expression darkened but he nodded.

“Just now I had a surge of power. Twice. I- I’m better than I’ve been in a long time. It just, it wasn’t something I was prepared for and it hit me hard.”

This didn’t seem to put Grantaire at ease. A couple was walking down the street towards them so Grantaire skootched himself so they were sitting next to each other with their backs to the wall.

“What?” Enjolras asked once they’d finally passed.

“Nothing.”

“I thought we’d established that I do genuinely want and care about your opinion,” Enjolras said with only mild exasperation.

He earned an eyeroll.

“Seriously, R.”

That got his attention. Grantaire blinked at him and the surprise was so obvious it was almost comical. Enjolras couldn’t help the self-satisfied smirk at Grantaire’s reaction.

Grantaire made a face. “You were just talking about how you didn’t feel as though you were gaining the same power to person ratio or whatever and then you’re brushing this off as a coincidence.” The words were mean, they were meant to be said mockingly, but they came out flat. Like Grantaire was simply going through the motions.

“I’ve noticed,” Enjolras tried to tease. Grantaire just glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “I want to know if you have any theories why because all I can come up with is a delay. You always seem to think I’m wrong so…”

That made Grantaire’s lip curl in distaste. He turned his head so that he was starring out into the street. Enjolras let him as emotions flickered across his face. When it became clear that Grantaire had retreated deep inside to wage war with himself Enjolras bumped their shoulders together. Grantaire jolted before settling with a pained sigh, tilting his head back and closing his eyes.

“Because,” he groaned, “it’s not ‘followers’ from which you derive your power. The gods are given power so long as people believe in them. It’s why the old gods have died out, passing on their realms to others either by choice or by force or without meaning to at all. It’s how new gods have risen, and what cold cruel gods they are. You only have power so long as people believe you have power. Or whoever they think you are.”

Grantaire’s words explained a lot, why he got stronger with each new friend and yet stagnated despite growing numbers. Why Zeus had forgotten and forsaken and seemingly ignored him. Why no one could explain the gods’ disappearance. Why Grantaire’s confession of belief had resulted in their current positions slumped against the wall. Well, maybe not. That was much more power than Enjolras had ever experienced and Grantaire knew more of the gods than Enjolras himself did.

“Then why did your belief affect me so strongly?” Enjolras asked softly.

He’d turned to look at Grantaire, leaning forward and pinning his gaze.

Grantaire blinked once. Twice. Swallowed, and spoke.

“That’s what happens when you win the belief of another god.”

~

Over the course of the following weeks Grantaire shared his secrets with Enjolras. It started on the sidewalk outside the Musain with a confession of faith. It continued inside the café and at one or another’s apartment, over food or coffee or a movie Grantaire insisted Enjolras just had to see.

“The 1830s were a sucky time to be a young adult,” Grantaire had started his tale. “I’d left my family and found myself in an alcohol fueled haze, stumbling from dance hall to pub to café to dance hall. I bumped into him somewhere in there.”

Enjolras took some sickly sense of vindictive justice to know that Dionysus had aged poorly in the wakes of capitalism. He’d been unable to adjust to the enlightenment and was preserving his power wherever he could.

“He just couldn’t go on. He was too weak,” Grantaire had frowned at the memory but Enjolras felt no sympathy for the old god. “So, he pulled me aside and told me everything, about the gods dying and needing to pass on his realms lest one of the new gods snatch it. He liked me, I was always kind to him, and I had amassed my own small group of fellow revelers that he seemed to think would keep me afloat.”

That had sparked a conversation about power and belief and together they managed to puzzle most of it out. The discussion – which alternated between a true discussion, a debate, and blatant bickering – lasted well into the night and they were swiftly kicked out of the Musain by the barista that Courf never seemed able to work his charms on. She’d seemed apologetic but also annoyed and the hour was so late that they both felt guilty and left a small pile of bills to try and make up for it.

“So you’re the god of wine?” Enjolras asked at the opening of one of their meetings, Grantaire quite literally having just opened his apartment door.

“Good afternoon, Enjolras. You’re really bad at greetings,” Grantaire said sarcastically. Enjolras grumbled as Grantaire stepped aside to let him in. “Less so wine and more general god of alcohol?”

This made them circle back to the power and belief equation. Enjolras was desperately curious to know what exactly fell under Grantaire’s domain. He hadn’t been too positive as Dionysus had simply passed on his divinity, essentially said that Grantaire had to fulfill his responsibilities, and then died. Through a lot of questions – Enjolras’s – and sighs – Grantaire’s – they worked out what did and did not fall under Grantaire’s control.

“I feel like Combeferre would be helpful in this conversation. Or Jehan or Musichetta.” Enjolras frowned down at his empty mug. He got up to make another cup of coffee and stopped in shock at how late it had gotten, the clock on Grantaire’s microwave blinking that it was 3:00 a.m.

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask: did you have Chetta do a reading on me?” Grantaire called, he was still sprawled on the floor where he’d moved to lay down about a half hour ago though maybe it was longer.

“I wanted to know if we could trust you,” Enjolras admitted. He’d forgone the coffee and just poured milk into his mug.

Grantaire snorted, he sat up so he could shoot Enjolras a look. He didn’t say anything just laid back down.

“I trust Eponine’s judgement, but you can never be too careful.”

That made Grantaire snort again and rather than returning to his place on the couch Enjolras sat cross-legged on floor next to him. Rolling his head so he could look at Enjolras, Grantaire raised a curious eyebrow. “And? What’d they say?”

“That we could.”

Grantaire laughed. “No shit, Sherlock.”

Enjolras couldn’t stop his smile, not that he wanted to anyway. “Fuck you, Watson.”

Another laugh came from Grantaire, loud and deep and warm. It made Enjolras feel warm too, with pride at being responsible for it and from listening to it.

“I might still have the text?” he offered, already reaching for his phone.

“Why not.”

“She did a three-card draw: Hanged Man, Wheel of Fortune, and Knight of Cups.”

Grantaire scoffed. “Well fuck. I feel intensely seen.”

Enjolras raised an eyebrow but Grantaire didn’t elaborate. He’d looked up the meanings behind the cards after that first meeting, but he couldn’t derive anything more and trusted Musichetta. That Grantaire seemed to agree so succinctly was interesting though.

“She ever do a reading for you?” Grantaire asked, genuine curiosity in his tone.

He shook his head before shrugging and making a noncommittal noise. Grantaire raised a brow. “She taught me about tarot and we did readings and all but never on me.”

With a nod Grantaire pushed himself so he was sitting upright. “I’ve found that they help just for like self-reflection.” Grantaire cleared his throat and Enjolras could tell it was because he was suddenly, overwhelming self-conscious. He charged onward though, pushing himself to his feet and moving towards the overfull bookshelves in the corner of the room. “But it’s also an easy way to, uh, assess? Your domain? Power? Whatever. It’s a useful tool for a god.”

Enjolras nodded. He’d realized that but even with Musichetta’s help he was still remedial.

“Here,” Grantaire handed him a small velvet bag and took a seat across the small coffee table from him. “If you want, I can do you. Um, do a reading for you.” Grantaire flushed and Enjolras felt his own cheeks heating up.

“Um, sure?”

“Just shuffle the cards,” Grantaire instructed.

Enjolras pulled the deck out. Like Musichetta’s and the one that he’d seen Jehan pull out every once in a while, they were larger than playing cards, tall and broad. Grantaire’s were decorated with an intricate pattern of vines on the backs. They were cool and slippery as he cut the deck and passed chunks of it from hand to hand. Some cards stuck together, and others moved easily as he shuffled. Once he was satisfied Enjolras set them on the table between himself and Grantaire.

Grantaire picked up the cards and carefully pulled the first three, placing them face up in a neat row between them. Normally that’s all that he and Musichetta would do, quick and messy she’d call it and then add on “but effective.” Grantaire kept going, two more cards were placed below them and then a final one at the bottom creating an inverted pyramid on the table in front of him. Grantaire set the rest of the deck aside and frowned down at them.

“That’s a lot of the Major Arcana,” Enjolras observed.

Grantaire hummed. “Yeah, that happens with gods. Not sure why, besides the fact that we kinda exist on a larger scale? Or something. It’s just a theory.”

Enjolras nodded and began to study the cards with Grantaire. He was too distracted by the artwork though, bold paint strokes and bright colors tempered with thick, dark lines.

“Ok,” Grantaire said and startled Enjolras. He’d zoned out trying to make out the shadowed face of the Magician. “The top row is past and obviously represents you: rebellious, driven, focused, leader, with an innate sense of fairness and responsibility. Seven of wands, Magician, Justice.”

Enjolras nodded and Grantaire continued. “The next row is meant to be present, or the events that have led to your present. The Tower is destruction and downfall and well it’s obviously you getting your ass thrown in Limbo.”

“Gee, thanks,” Enjolras said sarcastically.

Grantaire held his hands up placatingly but gave a wicked grin. “Just saying. Wheel of Fortune is change so being freed but also your little save the world club and your desire to make change.”

“Those I could follow,” Enjolras said dryly.

Grantaire shot him a glare. “You agreed to this.”

Enjolras shrugged and this time it was his turn to spread his hands in a placating gesture.

“Right,” Grantaire narrowed his eyes at him before returning to the final card. “Future, Two of Cups. Truce.” Grantaire frowned.

“Truce?” Enjolras asked, realizing that just sitting here, on Grantaire’s living room floor, was its own truce.

“Um, also connection and…” Grantaire’s ears turned red again. “Uh, attraction.”

Enjolras nodded. He reached towards the deck and drew the top card, placing it over the Two of Cups. The Knight of Cups looked up at them.

The Knight had his armor stacked at his feet and stood in his tunic and leggings. His hair was the same curls as Grantaire’s, and his eyes held the same mischief.

He’d never admit it, but Grantaire had been right. The cards were good for self-reflection and looking at them, hearing Grantaire explain them, the months since he’d met the other man all suddenly fell into place. When he looked up to meet Grantaire’s shocked eyes he could see that they had for the other man as well.

“Truce?” Enjolras asked again, unable to stop himself from smiling.

Grantaire grinned back. “Truce.”

[lonelypond]

Can’t Get Started

Love Live, NicoMaki, 3.5K, 1/2

Nishikino Maki is trying to make in the piranha fishbowl of movies, music, and Hollywood. Yazawa Nico already has. And they keep crashing into each other.

Can’t Get Started

No matter how many luxury, fancy, five star, $$$$$ hotels Nishikino Maki would spend time in, she would never get used to the powder room lounges, with interior design as fancy and challenging as the living areas of the ‘finest’ homes. This one had a wood and platinum motif, with large low sofas scattered over a space the size of her moderately luxurious apartment. There were pitchers with cucumber water and a thick book full of very unclothed photography, which actually interested Maki, as a photographer herself, but here, where women came in and out every few minutes, she felt too exposed to pick it up, have a look, and see who had made that particular editor’s cut. So no lingering after the deed is done. In a room seemingly designed for lingering. And one fidgety blur of movement in a corner Maki made certain to only catch out of the corner of her eye. No staring. Time to move on, no matter how tempting the couches seemed compared to the roomful of noisy chatter and chummy elbows.

Maki was back to continue her decor appreciation jam session after only ten minutes because of a small accident with the soup. Award shows should be like the Oscars, someone else in your seat when you needed air, not occasions where you not only had to juggle nerves but also food. Maki shook her head at herself, looked at the curry down the front of her dress and wondered if water would make it better or worse.

She stopped. There was the blur, now in the center of the ‘lounge,’ a tiny dark haired woman, pacing and muttering, hands flying back and forth, making shapes in the air, leaning into a couch, patting an imaginary cheek, turning to one side, smiling and waving, unusually...red eyes wide and friendly. And then they spotted Maki, and narrowed.

“Sorry…” Maki coughed and ducked her head, pointing to her dress, “spilled soup. Just…” Maki smiled shyly, “thought I saw you in here ten minutes ago. Are you okay? I get nervous too.” A flip of her finger across the still damp soup stain to demonstrate empathy.

Now there was staring. The eyes were red, almost rubies, with that same illusion of faceted depth that the best jewelers carve into their efforts, bringing out magical warmth from mineral cold. Then an incandescent smile happened that knocked Maki back, “Nico is fine. Nico is just rehearsing her acceptance speech so fans like you,” a broad, broad wink, “aren’t disappointed.”

Nico. Yazawa Nico. Maki took a better look, this woman was so tiny, but yes, the eyes should have been a giveaway, set deep over a nose that was much sharper than Maki had even seen in any of the movies where Yazawa had bled out all of her emotions for an audience eager for stories of romance, tragedy, and triumph with an actress unafraid to be as unapologetically gay on screen as off. From superhero to Empress, Nico had swept the international cinema scene, scoring box office hits in both small indie films and action blockbusters. Maki had been impressed by the actress’s range, cried and laughed over her performances, and maybe had a slightly illicit dream or two. Like every other gay and bi woman on the planet.

“Hello?” Yazawa’s hand was waving in front of Maki’s nose, “Nico can help you with the spill. I have a stain stick in my purse, It’ll keep it from setting.”

Maki nodded. That sounded sensible. Like a plan. And Nico’s dress was silver slashed with black fringe, that went with the silver slashes across sharp cheekbones above lips that could really only be described as a sensuous dark plum.

The actress was waiting for some kind of verbal reply, but Maki had half turned and was just staring at a pattern on the couch and running a hand through her hair, as adjectives and screenshots kept flashing on her internal movie screen. Then Yazawa’s hands were on her shoulders and she was being shoved into a chair, “But first you listen to Nico’s speech…” Yazawa paused.

“Um…” Maki realized her elevation had changed and she glanced up, Nico watching her critically.

“Name?” Nico urged.

“Maki.” Easy question.

Nico nodded and the tension eased. “Okay, Maki, hi I’m Nico, I have a big presentation in…” Yazawa glanced at a delicate twist of a silver watch, “20 minutes, so it’s kinda urgent, can I run something by you? So I don’t sound like an idiot.”

“Yeah, I always sound like an idiot too.” Maki blurted.

“Well,” Nico stepped back, “thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Sorry, Ms. Yazawa...” Maki bit her lip, “you’re always so polished on screen….”

“It’s Nico. And I never write my own dialogue. On set improv is lame.” Nico stepped back, her eyes focusing somewhere else, hands seeming to measure out where the stage and microphone were, “Writers work as hard as Nico does so they deserve respect.”

Maki thought Umi would be pleased and surprised to hear that from a celebrity she had occasionally doubted the work ethic of. Maki, as a composer, was usually immune from actors altering her artistic choices but it was a near daily struggle for Umi. Maki wondered if Nico would be interested in reading their latest, an intimate musical…

Nico’s hand again, fingers snapping this time under Maki’s nose this time. She jumped as Nico began to sound testy again, “If Nico can keep your interest, she can keep anyone’s…”

“Not, that’s not...I just...my friend Umi is a writer and always complains about actors who want to improv.”

“Posers.”

Maki grinned, “Exactly what she says.”

Nico patted Maki encouragingly on the shoulder, amused, “Introduce Nico later. Now you listen. We only have 15 minutes before...” Nico flung her arms wide, nodding to each side, gathering in imaginary shouts and whistles.

“Okay.” Maki stood, stretched her arms out in front of her, sat, leaned forward, slammed her hands into her knees, the picture of alert attention, and winked at Nico, “Go.”

Nico laughed, stepped behind her imaginary podium, whispered, “clap” so Maki did while Nico’s hand gestures called for more. Then the flip of the hand for quiet.

“Thank you. Tonight is very important to Nico…”

###

Sundance...party...one pissed off caterer...Maki had no idea what she did to annoy the woman...oh wait, yeah that...but Umi was going to be SEVERELY disappointed when their party, intended to impress award winning designer Minami Kotori turned out to be Maki smiling awkwardly and handing around a bag of stale chips and a growler. It was a weeknight, the Thursday before the second weekend, and Maki had had hopes of catching the ska documentary she’d connected a musician friend with. But no, here she was frantically searching for...a pizza place, maybe? Fewer crowds than last year, when they’d come the first weekend, but still enough people bustling that Maki felt like she was elbowing people awkwardly in the halls of high school again. And then her heel hit a patch of black ice and she sssssssslllllliiiiiiiiiiiiiid down the sidewalk until some obstacle forced her back on her butt. That was going to be sore, Maki thought as she reached a hand behind her, levering herself up was going to be at least a three limb job, both legs and one arm.

“Here let me help you. Are you okay?”

Maki recognized the voice and winced. Yazawa Nico once again catching her in an imperfect moment. “Hi. No, I’m fine.”

Nico snorted. She was in a black snowsuit with cute pink flair, fake fur, and patches scattered all over her arms and legs. She took Maki’s hand and when the redhead nodded, pulled. Maki rose and stumbled forward, suddenly finding herself with A list celebrity arms supporting most of her weight while dreamably delicious, not even mildly chapped lips pinched back what was probably a belly roar of laughter.

“Sorry.” Maki stepped back, hands brushing the snow off her leggings. Why hadn’t she dressed for the weather? Leggings based on samurai armor, an oversized Northwestern hoodie and a Reign ballcap would not have been any stylist’s choice.

“No soup stains?” Nico teased, clapping together pink mittens that looked like Muppet fur. Maki thought there might be eyes on the palms. She wasn’t sure if that was cute or creepy.

“No food at all.” Maki sniffled, feeling the cold soak into what was going to be a sitting bruise, and having no real options as her mind raced through possibilities. Umi and Kotori would be headed back with a small crowd after the premiere of Umi’s latest film and Maki had nothing, “I have to go. Nico to see...I mean nice to see you, Nico.” Maki tried to smile but she knew her face was giving away how many non options she was discarding per second.

“What’s the matter?” Nico asked so casually, so quickly, Maki almost forgot where she was.

“I pissed off the caterer. And Umi…”

“Your writing friend….”

“You remembered…”

Nico tapped her temple, “Nico keeps future industry connections who know cute redheads in the most secure part of her memory.” Nico frowned, “Sorry, Nico meant intelligent and attentive test audiences. Nico’s not a creep.”

“Then why are there eyes on your mittens?” Maki couldn’t help asking.

“Huh...” Nico laughed, raising one of her hands, turning her mitten into a sock puppet, the pitch of her voice dropping, “Hey, friend, let’s make a snowman…”

Maki glanced around, a little frantic, not sure how to react, especially as this new conversation track was her stumble entirely, “Sorry no...there’s not really anywhere...I really...Umi’s going to be so upset…”

“They make my little brother laugh. He’s 13 and I’m trying to keep him silly.” Nico rolled her eyes, “They grow up too fast.”

“Oh.” Maki hated being this confused. And feeling this incapable. But Nico was grinning at her and cute and surely Umi and Honoka could charm Kotori without catering. There was ice cream in the freezer. Probably.

“So what did you do to the caterer…?”

Maki shoved her hands in her kangaroo pocket so she wouldn’t just throw her hat somewhere as she remembered the scene. “Ummmm...ran over the main dish because I was running late and backing out of the condo driveway when they were unloading…”

“Sounds like a movie meet cute.” Nico’s eyes were twinkling while Maki was getting shorter and probably tilting toward the left as her hip contracted from pain and cold. “So is it a private party...why did Nico miss getting her invite?”

“Oh, it’s for anyone who goes to Umi’s premiere.” Maki glanced at her watch. “Which is going to be over soon.”

Nico pulled out her phone. “What’s your address?”

“Why?” There wouldn’t be much of a party, and Honoka would surely just hit Nico with every project her clients might need an actress for.

“Nico knows someone. Is this Umi or who she’s trying to impress allergic to anything?”

“Minami? I’m not sure.”

Nico whistled, “Kotori, the Divine Kotori of Floating Feather Atelier….Nico really needs to come to one of your parties. Nico hears she’s big on cutesy food…” Nico frowned, considering. “I might know a place...”

“Where?” Maki got ready to run.

“You are not touching anything breakable, droppable, or poisonable. Nico will send her assistant.” Nico handed Maki her phone, “Just give me your contact info and Cocoro will take care of it.”

“Okay.” Maki took off a glove and tried typing but nothing registered. She kept punching until Nico took the phone back, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Just talk.”

“Okay.”

Nico typed in the digits as Maki recited them. “All right, Nico will send a rescue party to your wreck. Don’t back over them.”

“I’m walking everywhere from now on. Rogue Salmon spaghetti carbonaras are obviously stalking my car.” “Probably safest. Are you hanging out this weekend? Nico’s chairing a diversity panel. People are going to be talking about it for months.” Nico kept typing, biting her lip as she muttered things Maki couldn’t make out.

“Flying to Tokyo in the morning.” Nico looked disappointed so Maki explained. “Family business. My parents...”

“Oh. Nico will text you a snap of her agenda and her dress so you can see what you missed.”

“Okay.” Maki nodded at Nico, who had finally glanced up from her phone.“Thanks, Nico. I’d better get back.”

As Maki turned, Nico giggled. “Send Nico back a pajama selfie.”

Maki whirled, “What?”

Nico, with a too innocent expression on her face, was watching her mittens out dance each other, “We should go to a party TOGETHER sometime.”

“Stop by tonight. You have the address.”

Nico’s mittens dropped to her sides, her voice apologetic before it dipped back into a teasing edge. “Guest of honor three places. Already late for the first. And Nico has to hurry her assistant because there’s a cute redhead with no food to stain her clothes…”

Maki blushed and bolted. Nico had a very distinctive, short, snorting laugh and Maki feared that further conversation would draw a crowd. Plus, the liquor delivery was probably waiting.

###

Maki’s phone vibrated with a text from an unknown number, “We’re here.”

“Who?”

“Food.”

Maki had changed into jeans and a turtleneck, and was about to put her last layer on. Shoving her arm quickly into the formal jacket, she hopped down to the door.

One young woman, leading three young men with huge insulated bags, stood, impatiently tapping her fingers against the doorframe, “Maki?”

The grim tone made Maki wonder if she should pull out her ID. “Yes.”

The woman turned, “Take everything inside, find the kitchen, set it all up, my sister said not to let her touch anything.”

The staff nodded and shuffled past Maki once she stepped out of the door and onto the porch so they could get through.

The young woman glared at her. “Nico already tipped them.”

“Okay.” Maki was staring. This young woman was almost identical to Nico in coloring, but no amusement had ever lurked in her blood red eyes and her entire expression screamed “Not on my watch, you don’t.”

“You should probably go back inside.” The not Nico pointed.

“Okay.” Could this be over soon, Maki wondered.

“I have to text Nico a picture.” Nope.

“I’ll take you to the kitchen.” Maki had said something right, but it was too late to score any points. The “thank you” in response was perfunctory.

“I’m Maki Nishikino.”

“I know.”

Maki knew Nico had mentioned a name but its memory was as slippery as the Park City pavement.“You are?”

“Ms. Yazawa, Nico’s assistant.” Stated slowly.

“Right. Thank you.”

No reply. Ms. Yazawa racewalked into the living area, and Maki could hear her ordering the three young men around.

Maybe everything would be self serve. And Nico’s...sister? Evil clone? would make a quick exit. Maki wasn’t looking forward to the party and extra scrutiny would make it so much worse.

“Maki!” Honoka Kosaka cheerful trill echoed as the front door banged open, ‘Everyone loved Umi’s script. And they can’t wait to meet you.’ Maki waved at her old friend and agent as the ginger in a kilt and shawl bounced into the living area. The food had arrived just in time. But a smile was more than Maki could muster as the memory of the younger Yazawa’s frigid attitude kept scalding her.

###

The condo was finally quiet. Umi, Honoka, and Kotori had gone off somewhere to continue what Umi called ‘negotiations’ while Honoka had whispered date. Which Maki wasn’t thinking about. Because the condo was finally quiet. And then her ringtone went off. Maki groaned and grabbed her phone, wondering what the new crisis was.

A text from an unknown number: ( ˘▽˘)っ♨ how was the party? My sister said you didn’t spill anything while she was there.

Maki smiled. Nico.

M: （－－；exhausting

N: In bed already? Pajama selfie?

M: Collapsed in chair fully clothed so not terribly exciting.

N: Depends on the chair ପ(⑅ ॣ•͈૦•͈ ॣ)ଓ

Maki shot a quick pic of the fabric pattern.

N: 10/10 would slouch right there with you

M: I’d be terrible company. During party: |_-｡), after party (o_ _)o

N: And yet, here we are...(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

Maki ran a hand through her hair and sighed. What she really wanted to do was soak in a bath for hours, candles lit, music low, but past experience had taught her that as soon as Honoka came back she’d barge into wherever Maki was with an update.

N: Is the rest of Team 'Slide In Through My Window' there?

M: You know the script title?

N: Nico talks to people. Your friend Umi made quite a splash at the writing panel. Bet actresses are swooning to get a look at the script ヽ/❀o ل͜ o\ﾉ

Maki frowned.

M: Are you?

A pause...Maki could see Nico typing, then the bubble disappeared. Then more typing,

N: (,Ծ_ლ) Honestly? There’s no good way for Nico to answer that.

Maki leaned forward, her fingers flying.

M: Why not?

N: *groans* Because of course, duh...hot new thing and turns out I love the score for the 'Déshabillé and Disaster' short and YOU composed that, but mostly, Nico is swooning over an excuse to keep talking to you.

Nico knew her work. The first thing people mentioned was usually the hit steamy summer bop she’d written with Carly Rae Jepsen last year, not the Le Cristal d'Annecy winning animated short so Nico had either done her homework or was a genuine enthusiast. Either way…Maki found herself typing too quickly to reconsider anything she said.

M: You don’t need an excuse.

N: Are you going to be in LA for awards season?

M: Yes.

N: Nico will see you then. Cocoro hasn’t overscheduled me yet…So let’s crash a party together.

M: Can it be a small, quiet party? *yawns pathetically*

N: Get some sleep. And don’t forget to send Nico a pajama selfie when you get to Tokyo. Or at least a chair pic. Nico needs to know your furniture preferences.

And Nico had attached a selfie where she had the most serious of faces, one eyebrow quirked to its sharpest, most questioning extreme.

Maki couldn’t help it. The guffaw just rolled out; there was no other word for it. This was flirting. This was nice. No one staring and making her feel uncomfortable. A minute to think. Maki relaxed into the chair, legs pulled up, remembering Nico’s grin. This was flirting. A nudge. A wink. A dare. Maki took a risk.

M: Not too well padded.

N: (╯‵□′)╯︵┴─┴ Rude. Nico’s furniture is padded perfectly. ಠ‿↼

Guffaw followed by giggle. Maki was feeling better. Maybe she could actually sleep before leaving for her flight. IF she taped a huge DO NOT DISTURB ME, HONOKA to her door.

M: Thanks for your help, Nico. You saved me. Although I don’t think your sister likes me.

N: She’s not the deciding vote in the Yazawa family. Chat up Cotaro, he likes donuts, you might be able to swing a majority. Nico will put in a good word for you.

M: You’re probably exhausting in person.

N: All the to die for parties are ♥(ˆ⌣ˆԅ)

M: *collapses further into chair, CRUSHED under weight of brush with celebrity*

N: Nico is not fatal, Ms.OVERdramatic, just friendly.

M: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

N: Sleep it off, recluse ❤⃛ヾ(๑❛ ▿ ◠๑ )

M: (b~_^)b

N: Cute. See you in LA.

See Nico in LA. It was now a plan. And Nico would be in one of those dresses designed to show off every perfectly padded curve. Maki felt herself redden and then panic jumped to her memories of red carpets and last year. The crowds. The cameras. And how everyone sweeping by, svelte and confident, had brought out every clumsy twitch in her body. But Nice was certainly not the watch the red carpet on a laptop with takeout and TWIG commentary type. Maki sat up, maybe if she started with a dress. Could Umi and Honoka talk Minami Kotori into coming back to the condo for some fashion talk? Maki could use a little divine design intervention.

A/N: Enjoy this first half. I started this while finishing up Jingle Bell Jazz when I heard Nancy Wilson's version of "I Can't Get Started." Juggling a few storylines so I'm not sure what'll be next after this as summer and Shakespeare and crimes against humanity by the government of my country continue.Thanks for reading. Take care!

[bunjywunjy]

FATHER OF A SLIPPER

hey guess what everyone, it’s time for a new installment of Weird Biology! yaaay! (CLAP NOW.)

this week's animal might look like a children’s edutainment mascot, but it’s an avian death machine with built-in machine-gun sound effects. really.

so hold onto your butts folks, because it’s time to meet-

gesundheit! haha! please do not bite me!

the Shoebill is a stupidly huge modern dinosaur with a ginormous beak, which kind of looks like... uh, a shoe. (BLESS YOU)

the Shoebill (BLESS... fine, fine I’ll stop) has several different names in other languages. the best one by far the Arabic Abu Markub, which can be translated as “Father of a Slipper”. 

obviously this name is way, way better than anything I could ever come up with in a million years, and I should just quit my job and stop the article right here.

I won’t, though. you still have to read like another six paragraphs of this. suffer.

the Shoebill is a gigantic bastard of a bird, reaching up to five feet tall and fifteen pounds heavy. they’re simply too much bird to handle, especially when you consider that enormous clog of a beak. that odd bill may look like a cute dutch shoe, but the edges are razor-sharp and built to decapitate prey with a single heavy blow.

the Shoebill is what you would get if you were to take a Velociraptor and tape a fucking axe to its face, which kind of ruins the friendly muppet look they’ve got going on.

(that and the death glare.)

HEY KIDS! let’s have a staring contest! Timmy why are you crying

the Shoebill is found in tropical East African swamps and wetlands. they stalk around in the reeds and generally skulk around like most cranes and herons do, but with a couple of important differences. (yes, those differences are all scary. hang on.)

first, Shoebills are hunting for larger prey than your typical heron or crane. and while they do usually go after fish and eels up to 3 feet long (!!!), the Shoebill is a criminal of opportunity. they will eat anything, from baby crocodiles to smaller waterfowl to baby antelopes. BABY. FUCKING. ANTELOPES.

so maybe don’t trust them around your children, is what I’m getting at here.

HEY KIDS! who wants to see if I can fit this ENTIRE DUCK in my mouth? TIMMY, YOU’RE NEXT.

second, Shoebills are very, very, veryveryvery patient. they stand next to the water and just. don’t. move. you’d think the Shoebill was trying to win a staring contest with the river, but I can assure you that it’s nothing that innocent. the Shoebill is waiting.

 once an edible-looking fish/eel/nile monitor/baby antelope swims by, the Shoebill strikes. five feet of hungry bird slams beak-first into its potential meal, swinging it around a few times like a Jurassic Park Velociraptor (to get the mud off. mud is gross even to Shoebills), and snipping the head clean off with that terrible beak. oh, and then the Shoebill swallows it whole. headfirst. (it would be if the prey still had a head attached, anyway.)

AAAAAAAAAA. AAAAAAAAA!

awful table manners aside, Shoebills actually do manage to scrounge up some compassion in their black black hearts when it comes to their children. 

*paper rustles* wait. hang on, I read that wrong. ahaha, whoops! they don’t, actually.

at the end of the rainy season, two Shoebills will court by making machine-gun sound effects with their beaks at each other. (really) once they have decided they can stand each other long enough to make some beautiful babies together (Shoebills are notoriously antisocial), the pair wander off to a distant corner of the swamp, where they will build a fuckoff huge nest and lay up to three eggs. awww!

however, only one of those eggs is going to make it to adulthood.

take a quick break to stare at something adorable.

this is by design. the strongest chick will become a strong adult. “wait... how do they know who’s the strongest?” you ask tremulously, an unnamable fear in your eyes. you are correct to be wary! the answer is siblicide.

that’s right, the strongest chick will straight-up murder its weaker siblings by shoving them out of the nest to drown/be eaten by crocodiles. and the parents just kind of watch. jesus.

I mean, I GUESS that’s as good a way as any to make sure at least one chick is strong enough to make it, but man.

don’t trust these guys around your children, that’s all I’m saying.

HEY KIDS, it’s time for TODDLER DEATHMATCH! may the strongest offspring prevail!

despite their many nightmarish qualities, Shoebills remain an iconic bird and a valuable part of the ecosystem (why, without them we’d be knee deep in baby antelopes). they have appeared in human art and culture from the Ancient Egyptians to The Audobon Society. 

they’re pretty neat.

Shoebills are also currently considered Vulnerable, with their habitat under threat from human encroachment. we really, really, really hope that this giant murderbird continues to thrive in the future, mostly so that if the day ever comes when someone points up into the air and cries “Look! A Shoebill!” we can all turn around in unison and scream,

 “GESUNDHEIT!”

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IMAGE SOURCES

1-Birder’s Blog 2-Zambia Tourism 3-Reddit 4-The Telegraph 5-Africa Geographic 6-Zooborns 7-Ranger Diaries 8-Know Your Meme