#{{this man has crashed cars. planes. trains. a bus.

[firstclassrookie]

"I can't talk, given my track record with vehicles."

[in-tua-deep]

idk if you still do au ideas but what if delores was a real person in the apocalypse? how it woul dbe done i have no idea but i love all your aus and thought it would be cool

okay okay I don't tend to go for real!Dolores aus admittedly because I find her much more compelling as what she is: a reflection of five himself and a symptom of his crushing loneliness

but i started thinking about it and you know what?? i think five deserves a little socialization, as a treat

so say like, 0.5% of the population is resistant to abilities. Allison would really struggle to rumor them, Five wouldn't be able to jump with them, and, most importantly, whatever the fuck Vanya's ability does has like, reduced damage or something

and the og apocalypse isn't the moon apocalypse, so let's say that it was pure waves of Vanya's powers that fucked over the earth

so 0.5% of the population survives the apocalypse. though, let's be honestly, the real number is a lot smaller than that. People who might have survived Vanya's initial power wave (miraculously) did not survive buildings crushing them or survive the car/plane/bus/train/other transportation crashes or survive being left alone when they are too young to reliably look after themselves, or the variety of other problems that come with 99.5% of the population dying at once

So, Five arrives in the apocalypse and is met with ruin and fire and a whole lot of dead people. He finds his siblings, but it doesn't matter. They're dead. He doesn't even recognize them at first, these strange grown-ups who he identifies not by their faces but by the umbrellas on their wrists that match his own

As he realizes the full impact of his situation, he hears a voice that says, very succinctly, "holy shit!"

It's a girl a few years older than Five himself, maybe 15 or 16, and she is very excited to see another survivor.

And here's where I u-turn this au around bc i'm not all that interested in real!Dolores, but I would be down to talk about Five meeting survivors in the apocalypse, because if Dolores is real I don't buy no one else survived.

So Dolores shows up and see a Literal Child crying over the corpses of his family and assumes that Five is a fellow survivor, and she immediately grabs him up. Five is incoherent with grief at this point anyway, so he doesn't even protest when she basically hauls him away from the bodies. She's babbling at him, but he doesn't really hear anything she's saying

And then she takes him to her dad

(Why not, let's have the 1% potentially be a heritable thing)

and her dad, let's call him just some dad name. like Rick. it has been a fucking WEEK for him, okay. he had his daughter with him, his ex-wife is on the other coast for her work, and by some miracle he survived the apocalypse and so did his child, and he's been wracking his brains trying to figure out what the fuck to do next

and then his daughter shows up with a traumatized thirteen-year-old in tow

now rick is a good dude. he's a dad. they get out of five that his name is five ("what the fuck" dolores mouths to him over five's shoulder and rick can't help but agree) and the bodies he found were his siblings ("Dad and Ben and Vanya weren't there though," this child cries desperately and rick feels his own heart clench in response, "They might still be alive!")

"We can look for them." Rick assures his new adopted child, because he is an adult in a fresh apocalypse and this kid has presumably lost everything he's ever known (more than rick even knows at the time)

and they do. They each get wagons and they go out and find supplies and look for other survivors. Five is... surprisingly helpful and also surprisingly docile as he is able to rely on Someone Else to give orders while he attempts to (dissociate) process what the fuck has happened

and here's the thing: Five prides himself on being independent, sort of. He's independent for a child soldier, but he's used to taking orders from a male authority figure and Rick happens to be just that

The first time that Five does something dangerous and Rick yells is a revelation

(Rick isn't sure if he hopes that Five's dad is alive or not, because if they find that man alive then Rick might just kill the jackass himself. Also like, Five is bizarrely knowledgeable out survival skills, like way too knowledgeable about it, which is helpful for them but also very concerning)

they find a newspaper and Five finds the article that mentions his father's recent death ("Huh. Heart attack." Five says, and there is no emotion in his voice)

(Years later, years later, Five and Rick talk. "I don't think I wanted to find him, either." Five admits, softly because Dolores is asleep, "I think I was more scared of finding him alive than I was of finding his body. He would've been so mad at me, I think.")

this newspaper is how Rick and Dolores find out about Five being Number Five, Umbrella Academy Missing Person

"Dude, what the fuck." Dolores says, wide eyes, "You're like, thirty?"

"I'm thirteen." Five says, and then checks the date on the newspaper again, "Also I think I would technically be 29 if I lived through all of it, 'cause it's April and my birthday is in October."

"You... time travelled?" Rick asks, which is honestly the more relevant question, "Can you go back?"

And Five just,,, crumples on himself. Because he tried, he tried really hard. It didn't work. "I'm gonna figure it out. I'm gonna go back, I'm going to save them."

That, Rick thinks, is a lot of weight to put on one person's shoulders, but especially the shoulders of a child.

"Alright." Rick says, because what else can he say after finding out his new child has superpowers and is from like, 2004? "What do you need?"

("Oh my god I have so many memes to teach you." Dolores says later, reverently. Five blinks in confusion and Rick mentally prepares himself for the recitation of so many vines)

And it's easier, somehow. Five sometimes feels like it's a betrayal, but he settles into apocalypse life with an ease that surprises him.

He lets Rick fuss over him and help tie his scarf securely around his head every morning before he sets off on supply runs with Dolores. And they're kids! Five has never had a friend before, and Dolores is funny and smart and she's struggling just as much as he is.

"I don't know if my mom's alive." She says to him, in solidarity when he checks the face of every corpse to see if they're Vanya.

Five is practical in the way only a child soldier can be. He's economical with the room in their wagons, carefully examining what might and what might not be useful.

Dolores, on the other hand, constantly takes up space with what Five sees as useless shit.

"Excuse you," Dolores says, shoving a game of monopoly, the entire discworld series, and a pack of glitter gel pens into her wagon, "These are absolutely vital apocalypse supplies."

She challenges him, plays with him in a way no one ever has. "I bet you I can find more batteries today than you can," She grins at him, "Winner gets to pick dinner first?"

"You're on." Five says, directly before Dolores pulls two packs of 24 AA batteries from behind her back, like a cheat.

Dolores makes him take a ten minute break when they find a playground that has been mostly not-destroyed. They rummage around kids backpacks and mother's handbags for some good loot, too numb to corpses to even be bothered all that badly about the corpses they belong to.

"I'm getting on the swings." Dolores says when Five starts making noises about moving on, "I haven't been on a swingset in ages."

"What's the point?" Five grumps.

"Don't be sour because you can't swing as high as I can!" Dolores laughs, getting higher and higher as the swings creak ominously.

Five grumpily gets into the other swing and grudgingly kicks himself back and forth until Dolores takes pity on him and teaches him how to properly move his legs and body to get higher and higher.

Dolores jumps from the swing seat and lands with a flourish and smile. Five jumps out of his seat and then jumps, warping right in front of Dolores and making her yell and hit at him in outrage. Five smiles the widest he has all week.

This is how Five grows up in the apocalypse, with Dolores teasing him into taking breaks and leaning over his shoulder to look at his math and scandalizing him by stating that she'd only just started on matrices in her own high school math class.

Every night they huddle around Rick while he picks up whatever book Dolores picked out that day because it is a travesty that Five has never read hunger games or whatever, and then they read together because it would be a genuine blood bath if they all took turns. The first time Five accidentally mentioned a spoiler and Dolores genuinely considered murder was the birthday of this tradition

Some days the air is too smoky or there are dust storms or it's just plain too dangerous to go out, and they all stay in. Dolores regales Five with stories about public school, and Five tells them about his siblings.

Then they all cry

"I shouldn't be crying." Five sobs.

"Shut the fuck up," Dolores sobs back, "You literally watched me lose my shit over remembering my shitty eighth grade dance and listened to me sob-sing toxic for like four hours."

"In fairness I also wished you would shut up then."

"Let me hug you or I will start singing songs that I only remember the chorus for again you absolute fucker."

"I could always sing some -"

"No, Rick/Dad."

And Five grows up. Rick shows him how to shave very carefully in front of cracked mirrors. Dolores teases him every time his voice cracks. Rick tells Five in no uncertain terms that he loves and cares for him, and that Reginald was a little bitch. There are a lot of heartfelt conversations around that, honestly. Rick telling Five that he and the siblings deserved better, that they were children and deserved to have a childhood.

And that he has faith in Five. Rick and Dolores both do, they bring him back paper and pens and pencils and chalk and anything Five can use to write equations. They poke around any libraries for books on theoretical mathematics and quantum physics. Rick and Dolores go out scouting for food while Five stays home and can work longer.

They also make him take breaks, make sure that he's looking after himself.

They're a little better off than OG!Five when it comes to food, because some animals survive. Enough that Rick figures out how to hunt. Five is the first one to each bugs, and even though Dolores makes faces they all start eating bugs as well.

"Pretty sure there's loads of cultures that eat bugs." Rick says grudgingly, wondering if he should try stirfry the cockroaches and if that would improve the taste. "There's even, uh, cricket flour or whatever, right?"

"Plus you eat like, five spiders a year when you're asleep." Dolores says cheerfully, just to watch her dad's face scrunch up in displeasure.

"That doesn't sound true, but I don't know enough about spiders to dispute it." Five mutters, and Dolores gives him such a proud look that it makes him roll his eyes.

They're in their thirties when Rick dies. He's out foraging and hunting, and the rubble he's standing on gives way and he ends up with a gash in his leg. He manages to stop the bleeding, but the world is filthy and they don't have any antibiotics.

He gets an infection.

"It's okay." He tells both of his kids, "It's okay. I'm just so glad that you guys have each other, y'hear? I'm so glad."

"It's not okay." Five says, voice thick and choked, "It's not."

"Yeah, well, you're going to figure out how to go back, right? Go back in time and save everyone. Then I'll have never died, right?" Rick smiles, "And even if you don't, I'll be waiting for you on the other side and we'll see each other again anyway."

"I'm going to fix it."

"I know. I have faith in you, Five." Ricks says honestly, and that's more than Reginald ever said.

They sit quietly together while Dolores is out scavenging. They've been taking turns sitting with Rick.

"I won't remember you, in the past, will I?" Rick says rhetorically, but Five answers anyway.

"I don't think so."

Rick hums, "Well, doesn't matter. If you need help in the past, you come to me, y'hear?"

"You won't remember me."

"Doesn't matter. You come find me, and you tell me your crazy story until I believe you, and then I'll help you." Rick says firmly, "You're family. You're my son. Timelines? Don't matter. If you need help, with anything, even if it's just with - with filling out a bowling team or something -"

"I have never been bowling in my life and you know it." Five interrupts, but it makes him laugh just a little bit which was clearly Rick's intention.

"Well who knows what you'll get up to in the past! You'll be able to go bowling, you know. Get to wear those uncomfortable shoes. Hey, you go far enough back maybe you can go to Dolores's tenth birthday party and put me out of my misery."

"Was she bad at bowling?"

"Oh, she was wiping the floor with me. No contest."

"Honestly, that sounds absolutely accurate."

"Shut up, bowling just wasn't my sport. Regardless, the point was that I'm giving you a free pass to come and get me. Because I know you, I know how you think." Rick brings up his hand to tap his finger against Five's forehead, "You get it into your head that you need to go it alone, take it all on your shoulders. I'm telling you that if you do that I'll somehow manifest my memories and come smack you over the head for being stupid, you hear?"

"I'm not dragging you into anything." Five says firmly, "I'll have my siblings."

"Who were also children." Rick points out. "And dragging? Dragging is such a strong word for a volunteer."

"A volunteer who won't remember volunteering." Five shoots back.

Rick just shrugs, and then winces when the movement jolts his bad leg. "Five, I'm going to be honest with you here. And sappy. Can you handle a bit of sappiness for a minute?"

"No."

"Well too bad. Can't leave a dying man, you'd feel too bad. So you're stuck with me. But you listen good, okay? Because you aren't dragging me into anything. Whatever life you have, I want to have a part of that. Because you're my son. Wherever you are, whatever you do, I want to help because you're family. What you'd be doing by leaving me out of it is depriving me of someone I love, depriving me of knowing one of the best kids I've ever known."

"Shut up." Five says, choked.

"Nope, it's sappy time." Rick states, "Maybe asking you to come find me is selfish, but I don't care. No matter what version of me exists, I want to be in your life."

"My life is a walking joke, why would you want any part of that?"

"It has been my privilege to watch you grow up. To help you. To be here for you. Of course I'd want to be there to watch you grow up the rest of the way."

"But -"

"Shut up, just let me tell you that I am so proud of you. You never give up, and your heart is so big. You love so much and so loudly, and it's been the highest honor of my life to be included in your family."

Five pauses for a moment to collect himself before simply saying - "You're the best dad I've ever had."

Rick snorts, "Considering my competition, I'd sure hope so. That bar was so low old Reggie was practically limbo dancing with the devil. Now get over here and give an old man a hug."

They don't bury Rick, when he dies. They don't have time and the ground is too hard and they don't have the heart to move him. Instead the pack everything up and seal him in the shelter they'd lived in.

Dolores pulls out a bottle of ancient nail polish and painstakingly writes Rick's name on the wall with his birth year and an approximate current year. They aren't 100% sure though, since time blends together out in the apocalypse, but it's something.

They continue by themselves. They get older.

Dolores jokingly calls him her husband because the way his face scrunches up makes her cackle. They see other people very occasionally, usually passing through. Usually groups. Dolores and Five get to flex their hosting skills, though more than one group declines their cockroach stirfry.

("It's a family recipe." Five says with amusement in his eyes that usually manages to drown out old grief.)

"Jeeze, that kid couldn't have been older'n twenty-three." Dolores complains, "Makes me feels positively ancient."

"They wouldn't have known any world 'cept for the apocalypse." Five muses, pouring some boiled water into wine glasses because they might be living in the apocalypse but they can be fancy.

"Do you ever think about that?" Dolores asks, turning to him with no judgement, just curiosity. "When you go back, you'll be like, erasing them from existence."

Five shrugs, "Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe this place will just split off into an alternate timeline."

"Maybe none of this is real." Dolores says, amusement coloring her voice. "Maybe you aren't talking to a real person at all. Maybe this is just a symbol of your insanity and cracked mind."

"Dolores, I literally have a scar where you stabbed me. Did I somehow manage to stab myself in the back?"

"Scraped you, I scraped you. By accident."

"So you maintain." Five says haughtily, swirling his water in his wine glass like a pretentious prick.

"I could totally be fake. You don't know my life."

"I know way too much about you, Dolores. Like, way way too much." Five scoffs, because Dolores and him have literally no secrets from one another at this point. Five even knows the truth behind what happened at Janet Scranton's thirteenth birthday party. Like, he said, way too much.

"Maybe you made it up. Maybe that's why you know so much."

"Dolores, I'm going to be honest with you right now." Five presses the tips of his fingers to his chin, "If you were a figment of my imagination, you would be so much better at math."

"Hey!" Dolores squawks indignantly, "I didn't even get to finish high school you pretentious prick!"

"Neither did I!"

"You didn't even go to high school, you brat."

"I'm fifty-two I think I've outgrown 'brat.'"

"Tell that to your attitude." Dolores says haughtily, "You're still younger than me."

"Won't be when I go back in time." Five says cheerfully, completely ignoring Dolores's venomous look.

"That's cheating."

"Sucks to suck." Five says loftily, taking another sip of his water.

Sometimes they talk about The Plan, with capital letters. What Five is going to do when he goes back in time, depending on when he pops out. Is he going to adopt his siblings? What about Reginald?

"You don't think I could kill Reginald?" Five says, holding a hand to his chest in mock offense.

"I think you should let me do it. I'll even give you control of tonight's music if you do."

"What are you doing to do? Bite his ankles? What if you're like, seven or something?"

"All the better to get away with it since I'll be too young to convict or whatever."

"Pretty sure that's not how the law works."

"How would you know? Just for that I'm playing Istanbul on repeat again."

"I don't know why you think that's a threat. That song slaps."

It takes a few more years before Five is close enough that the Commission comes to interfere. Because that's what I think happened - Five was getting too close and they stepped in because they might as well distract the man as much as they can with missions, right?

So the Handler shows up. And she offers Five a job, telling him that they have the ability to travel through time. And Five - hesitates.

"Give me some time?" Five asks, and the Handler graciously gives him 24 hours.

And he and Dolores talk it over, because now that his goal is more in sight than it has ever been and Five is scared.

"What are you waiting for? You have the chance to see your siblings again." Dolores says patiently.

"Yeah," Five says, and what he doesn't say is clear. But I won't see you.

"Five." Dolores says, and she cradles his face between her palms like he is something precious, "I have had so much time with you already. More than I would have ever. We have been so lucky, to have this time. How can I demand more than what we have already been given?"

"When have you ever not demanded the world, Dolores?" Five asks, his own hand coming up to cover Dolores's own.

"We've had decades together, Five. We're getting old. I was always going to lose you, one way or another. Nothing lasts forever."

"I don't want to lose you."

"I know. But if I had to choose a way, if I could decide where our story ends, this would be it. Letting you go, because this way you get to live. You get to see your family again. You get to save the world. I could ask for nothing more than for you to get your happy ending."

Five removes Dolores's hand from his cheek so that he can cradle it between them, "I'm happy here with you. I've never been happier. Isn't that silly? That I was happier in the apocalypse?"

"I bet killing Reggie would make you happy." Dolores laughs rustily.

"One day you're going to see the mysterious disappearance of a famous billionaire in the paper and feel a twinge of satisfaction and now have a clue why." Five laughs as well, shaking his head.

Dolores pats Five's hands, "Five, look at me. We've had our time. And you're going to give me even more of it. More time with my father. More time with my mother. I'll never know it, but you'll have saved me."

"What if this is - what if this is an alternate reality? What if I leave you here alone?"

"Then you'll be saving a 15-year-old girl from the same fate as me. Because as much as I love you, as much as I have loved this time we have had together, this is still an apocalypse. This should never have happened, and if you have a chance to go back and prevent it, then I want you to take that chance with both hands."

"Even if it means leaving you alone?"

Dolores smiles at him, "I'm not going to be alone. Far too many creepy crawlies in the apocalypse for that."

"Shut up, I'm being serious."

"Hmm." Dolores hums consideringly, "Maybe I'll head North, to that new settlement that last group said they'd heard word of. Sure they'd find some use for an old woman who's survived this long in the wilderness."

"You can have my half of the record collection." Five says, pulling her against him into a hug that she easily returns.

"As if I wouldn't have stolen them as soon as you left." She scoffs, but it's a little wet, and Five pretends his own eyes aren't leaking tears.

When The Handler comes back, Dolores gives him another hug. She also slips something into his pocket - some photos. They'd taken it a year into the apocalypse, when Dolores had found an ancient looking polaroid camera and towed it home despite Five's protests about practicality. The photos are worn and faded at the edges, but the smiles on Five's little apocalypse family's faces are undeniable.

"You'll have to see if they magically fade when you change the timeline." Dolores whispers to him with a grin, "Like in the movies."

"Okay." Five whispers back.

"You have the list of movies to watch, right?" Dolores says. Five rolls his eyes and nods because he wrote the list last night into his Vanya-book while Dolores hovered over his shoulder and critiqued his handwriting.

"And you promise to try a proper non-expired twinkie at some point?"

"That I do not promise. I think even looking at one would make me lose my lunch. I have twinkie-trauma."

"Shut up and get going." Dolores says, because the Handler is starting to tap her foot impatiently.

And off Five goes to become an assassin. Though - he's much more gentle this time. He's careful, he doesn't kill children and he usually takes jobs that don't require killing at all. He distracts and manipulates events as much as he can without killing.

He's actually much more well socialized, thanks to Rick and Dolores. Less feral child and more determined man on a mission.

Which is why he's so frustrated when he finally, finally manages to get the equations to work and falls through and falls - directly back into his stupid thirteen-year-old body.

"Shit." Five says, loudly, and revels in the surprised look on his siblings faces.

He strides into the kitchen, and they all follow him like ducklings. They look exactly the way they did when they died.

"Wow this is actually way harder than I thought it would be." Five muses, looking at their dead faces. But as Dolores would say, life is hard but you have to keep on trucking sometimes. "Whatever, what's the date?"

"Five, where have you been?" Diego demands, looking irritated. It makes Five snort in amusement.

"The future. The past. If you want like, an exact list of dates you'll have to hold your horses. I spent like, two weeks in Peru once. No souvenirs though, unfortunately."

They look taken aback, like they didn't expect Five to have quite this much sass. Oops. That is definitely Dolores's influence. Or maybe he was always a little asshole. In fairness, what teenagers aren't tiny assholes? He has an excuse.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Diego's eyebrows are furrowed in anger. It kind of takes Five aback for a second, because he remembers a Diego who stutters when he argued.

"When did you learn the fuck-word?" Five asks, raising an eyebrow before her can help it, "Grace ought to wash your mouth out with soap."

Diego immediately goes red, "Shut up!"

"Wow you're so easy to rile up. Aren't you like, twenty-something? Actually, I could figure out for myself how old you are if you gave me the date."

"I'm twenty-nine." Diego growls, like that was the point.

"Haunting!" Five says cheerfully, because that means there is way less time than he would like, narrowing his time down to a six month window.

It's extremely funny how his cheer makes all of them make faces.

It's Klaus who leans forward, "Why do you need to know?"

Klaus's face is open and curious and - (looks exactly like he did when Five found him all those years ago) - and Five can't help but answer him. "The world end on April 1st, 2019. No it isn't an April Fools joke, yes I have heard that joke like a million different times. I just want to know how close I landed so I can, you know, start working on how to fix that."

"Woah woah woah, roll it back." Allison says, holding a hand up, "What?"

"The apocalypse occurs on April 1st, 2019." Five says, slowly. "I have traveled from afar to prevent this from happening, because like, everyone dies."

"Everyone?" Vanya says weakly from the side.

She's clearly expecting to be ignored, so Five turns his head to address her directly by wiggling his hand back and forth a little. "Sort of. Like, not too many people survive at all. A handful of the human population, you know."

"But you survived?" Diego recovers admirably, if bitingly.

"Well, no." Five says rolling his eyes, "Wouldn't you just know it, Klaus here has managed to figure out a new ability!"

Everyone turns to look at Klaus, who immediately holds up his hands like he's being arrested or something, "I did not!"

"Wonderful! Now that we've established that I'm alive -"

"Why should we trust a word you say?" Luther says for the first time, looking pensive.

Five blinks, genuinely taken aback. "Because... I'm your brother? Because I can clearly and obviously time travel? Like, yeah, it would have been more convenient if I'd arrived in like, my old-body for proof-purposes, but like. I mean. Thirteen is still a pretty convincing age to be to prove time travel considering if I hadn't, I would be like, almost thirty."

"Roll it back again." Allison says firmly, "What do you mean by 'old body'?"

"Great question!" Five says pointing at Allison and smiling. Everyone looks at him weird again, and Five takes a moment to wonder if they've ever experienced positive reinforcement. Knowing Reginald, probably not. "Wait! Is Reggie alive? Wait, no, answer that in a second. Uh. When I time traveled I fucked up my body I guess, I was like, old. White hair and wrinkles-type old from spending decades in the apocalypse. But I fucked up the calculations and got booted back to my thirteen-year-old body, I guess. How, I have no idea."

"What?" Vanya says, still equally weakly.

"You have no idea how fucked up time travel is." Five whispers conspiratorially to Vanya, loud enough for the whole table to hear, "There are so many ways to die. Or permanently tear a hold in space time. But like, with life as we know if ending soon-ish, I figured I couldn't possibly fuck it up worse than it already was, y'know? Speaking of, anyone have the date again?"

"Wait, what was that about dad?" Luther asks, very focused.

"Oh, you still call him dad? Big oof." Five says automatically, because apparently his verbal filter is shot to hell after living with Dolores. It does make Klaus bark out a too-loud laugh.

"What does that mean?" Luther asks aggressively.

"It means Reginald sucks and doesn't deserve the title of 'dad,' what did you think I meant?" Five asks, and now both Diego and Vanya and both cracking smiles, though Vanya is covering hers with a hand.

"Have some respect for the dead." Luther growls, standing up and looking very large and threatening.

Five sways back, craning his head up, "Woah there big buy, sit down before I injure my poor growing spine looking up at you. Jeeze, did Reggie force feed you steroids or something? I wouldn't put it past him but like, I just want to know he at least went over the side effects of the drug with you. Also like, thanks for narrowing it down. Also terrifying! Seriously though, exact date please because if I have less than 24 hours I am going to break down crying and that is a threat."

"I love this Five." Klaus says reverently.

"March 21st." Vanya offers, finally.

"Wow! Terrifying!" Five says, clapping his hands together, "Hate that. Ten days, huh? Well, who wants to get on board the save-the-world express?"

Klaus immediately flings his hand in the air, Five points at his brother appreciatively. "Yes, excellent! I'll take the volunteer in the lovely skirt as my first team member. Any other volunteers?"

"Danke!" Klaus simpers, grinning widely like this is the vest entertainment he's had in weeks.

"I'm not just going to stand here and listen to you badmouth dad and boss us around." Luther slams his hands on the table.

"Well not with that attitude." Five snarks.

Diego raises his hand, "I would like to join team fuck dad as well."

"We can certainly debate team names later." Five says, nodding wisely as Luther gives some sort of scandalized gasp.

"Honestly, I just want to see where this is going." Klaus confesses.

Five shrugs, because he doesn't really care about the reason. "Don't you want to prove me wrong them? Prove what a well-adjusted young man Reginald Hargreeves raised?"

"Shut up." Luther grinds out, looking a moment away from throwing a punch.

"If this is all true, I have to get home." Allison cuts in, looking concerned, "I have - I have a daughter."

"I mean, if you want to give Claire a world to live in then I'd stick around, but that's just me." Five shrugs.

"You know her name?" Allison asks, obviously taken aback.

Five is almost offended, "Uh, yeah. I have her photo as well. Y'all get on like, a bizarre number of gossip magazine covers did you know that?"

Allison manages to outdo herself in terms of being taken aback once more.

There's a beat of silence, and then Five turns, "Vanya? You in?"

"Me?" Vanya blinks, looking shocked. "What can I do?"

"Yeah, what can she do?" Diego asks, crossing his arms and suddenly looking grumpy.

It baffles Five, who scrunches his nose, "Uh, like, a lot? I assume? I mean. I'm going to be honest here, just looking at y'all right now is a lot. In more ways than one! Hashtag trauma and all that, but like, name a single one of you that wouldn't be the most obvious person in the room as soon as you walked into it. Except Vanya, who somehow manages to look like a well adjusted adult, by some miracle."

"Did you just verbally say the word hashtag?" Allison asks, looking so deeply confused.

"More concerned about the trauma he tacked onto there, but y'know, to each their own." Klaus immediately cuts in.

"You think I'm well-adjusted?" Vanya asks, looking oddly touched.

"I would like to direct your attention to Diego's leather pants-scowl combo and Luther's general aura of daddy-issues." Five says pointedly, "I can practically smell the tragic comic book backstory in this room. If I'd jumped back a decade earlier this would have been Batman's wet dream of orphan selection."

"Alright! Game plan!" Five says, waving Diego's knife in his hand.

Diego's hands immediately go to his weird harness looking thing, "Hey!"

"Give me just one moment to get the tracker out." Five rolls his eyes, "Then I'll give it back, I promise. Also if someone could ask Grace for like, some antibiotics that would be good."

"What?" Allison asks, directly before Five stabs himself and there is suddenly panic at the table.

"Relax!" Five says, allowing Diego to remove the knife from his hands. He doesn't need it anyway and his hand immediately drops down to root in the wound.

"Five what the fuck!" Diego yells, but Five just pulls up bloody fingers and waves the tracker into Diego's stupefied face.

"What the fuck is that, Five?" Allison demands, looking very shaken.

"I literally just said it was a tracker." Five points out, "Now, I think our first team activity should be voting on whether we destroy it or take it out to bumfuck nowhere and ditch it to confuse the Commission."

"What the fuck is the Commission?" Diego barks.

"Man. Maybe I should just hit up Rick." Five muses, "This is going to take so much explaining."

"Who is Rick."

"So much explaining."

[yes-i-am-happyaspie]

Do you happen to have any fics to help restore ones love for the irondad fandom? I'm suddenly afraid of loosing interest. Perhaps I haven't read a good fic in a while.

Oh, there is so much variety in the Irondad fandom that I guess it depends on what you enjoy.  Here are a few of my favorites from across the board.  

Whump with Feelings:

Of Flying and Falling by @polaroid15

Peter hums as if in deep thought. The blood on his face is bright and unrelenting in the glow of the fire, like some permanent reminder of Tony's failures. “Did you know my parents died in a plane crash?”

Tony jolts, the response hitting him like a freight train. He rubs Peter’s arm as his throat tightens. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

“They must’ve been really scared.”

“Are you scared Peter?”

---

Or, on their way home from a fancy conference on the coast of Vancouver, Tony and Peter's helicopter crashes, ending what should have been a perfect weekend filled with maple ice cream and sea water in a desperate battle for survival.

A Mermaid AU:

Petey and the Hermit by eccentric_artist_221b

Three years after losing his wife and child to a fatal car accident, Tony Stark courts his darkest thoughts at the top of an old, abandoned lighthouse. Preserved at the last second by the supposed screams of a drowning victim, Tony leaps into action. Finding an injured merboy trapped in trawler lines between the crevice of a rock, he can only assume this is part of a whiskey induced dream. As he brings the creature home to nurse its wounds, he soon discovers this is more than he signed up for when it begins to form a bond with him.

Age Regression:

close to my heart, never to part by @parkrstark

During patrol one night, Peter comes across something that leaves him and Ned dumbfounded. The next morning, Ned is dropping off a now two-year-old Peter at Tony’s. Not only does he have to figure out how to turn him back, but he must watch him. Tony wonders what he’s supposed to do with the now toddler-Peter for the next two weeks…until he slowly starts to wonder what he will do without this boy after the two weeks are over.

Amnesia Victim Peter Parker:

Do You Know Who You Are? by loubuttons 

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For forgetting. I’m sure I didn’t want to forget you.”

Amnesia Victim- Tony Stark:

Identity [REDACTED] by @obsessionoftheday

Dissociative fugue is one or more episodes of amnesia in which an individual cannot recall some or all of his or her past. Either the loss of one's identity or the formation of a new identity may occur with sudden, unexpected, purposeful travel away from home.

OR

When Tony goes missing, Peter and Rhodey team up to find him.

Migraine and Injury two for one:

Keeping Company by @whumphoarder and @xxx-cat-xxx

While attempting to look after his migraine-riddled mentor, Peter manages to injure himself badly enough to need Tony’s help.

Lots of Fluff:

t-shirts by KiwisAndTea  @kiwisandtea

A collection of one-shots centered around Peter Parker's favorite shirts. They serve only two purposes:

1. to embarrass Peter

2. to make Tony Feel™ Things

Humor:

Sole Heir by GotMyInkPen  @gotmyinkpen

Tony Stark has officially decided that Peter Parker is his sole heir and will one day inherit Stark Industries. Here's how Peter prepares for that day.

Kid Peter Parker- Hydra :

darkness will be rewritten by @marveal

"Richard Parker was studying Cross-Species Genetics, but struggled with the ethics of it, because it required he use human DNA, which no ethics board would agree with. So he used his own. His work was successful based off of his own DNA, and every human has a unique DNA,” Bruce explains. “So, naturally, when HYDRA wanted his research, they knew they would never get his support, so they took the next best thing they could to his own DNA. His son."

Or, Tony finds a tortured and experimented-on Peter Parker in a HYDRA base and decides to help him because who else will?

Adoption AU:

I told you I had issues by Bergen 

Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, and right now, a little exasperated. Because some guy is swinging around New York, shooting webs and making trouble, Fury is breathing down his neck, and his latest intern took off with his coupon for a free coffee.

Thank god for Pepper Potts.

--

...or, a Spider-Man AU where a set of bad circumstances begin to push Peter Parker down a wrong path, and where Tony is probably not the best person to deal with it, but he does anyway.

Kid Peter Meets Tony :

i promise you, kid, you'll be home soon by bstarship

If there was one good thing to come out of Tony's ultimate death at the end of the week, it was the ability to forget for a short period of time. He spent his time surrounded by strangers who idolized him and friends who sometimes gave less of a damn. But it was a kid who grounded him—who made him wish he had more time because he reminded him that there were good things to live for. One kid did all that.

Truly, Tony didn’t know how to make sense of it. A part of him told him to be unabashedly humble. Another part said to leave the kid and drive to Miami with the top down until his eyes fell out of their sockets.

A kid who had a shopping bag tied around his wrist with the Stark Expo logo on the side. A kid who was silent for a while until he finally said, “I have to use the bathroom.”

It was just a kid. A kid.

or

Peter is eight-years-old and loves everything about Iron Man. Tony is dying and helps a lost kid find his aunt and uncle.

Sickfic:

Sick and Lost by @kittybellestark

Peter’s sick and took the wrong bus. He meant to go to New Jersey but ends up in not New Jersey and calls Tony for help. He isn't having a great time but at least he has Tony on his side.

Okay, I could go on ALL DAY so I think I’ll stop here.  If you find something you enjoy and want more things like it, let me know!

[yaraxflcr]

Intro

Have you ever noticed that ( YARA FLOR ) from the (DC UNIVERSE ) looks a lot like ( HASKIRI VELAZQUEZ)? But ( SHE) also go/goes by ( WONDER GIRL). Having the ability to/of ( SUPERHUMAN STRENGTH, FLIGHT, HYDROKINESIS ) sure makes them a force to be reckoned with. They’re known to be ( A GREAT LEADER, ) but also ( HARSH, ) and they’re ( 22 ) years old. 

This is 100% her wiki page copy pasted. 

Basics

Real Name: Yara Flor Main Alias: Wonder Girl Relatives: Aella (mother, deceased) · Unnamed Brazilian river god (father) · Renata (aunt) · Brian (uncle) Affiliation: Amazons of the Amazon Alignment: Chaotic Good - A chaotic good character acts as his conscience directs him with little regard for what others expect of him. He makes his own way, but he's kind and benevolent. He believes in goodness and right but has little use for laws and regulations. Race: Demigod Marital Status: Single

Characteristics

Gender:  Female Eyes: Amber Hair : Black Origin Universe: Prime Earth

Origins

Originally from Brazil, Yara Flor left the country at a young age along with a woman named Renata whom she considered an aunt. She moved to Boise, Idaho, in the United States, although as a teenager she decided to travel back to her homeland. Renata disapproved of Flor's decision as she deemed it dangerous, although she nevertheless saw her off at Boise Airport alongside Yara's uncle Brian.[1]

Homecoming

After landing in Rio de Janeiro Yara takes a bus to the hotel, on the way there she saves a man from a burning car, and introduces herself to the bus driver, a man named João. All the while Hera, Queen Nubia, and Queen Faruka all make plans for Yara. Later, while at Iguazu Falls, Yara hears music from the water below, and is dragged down into the river below by boleadoras and encounters a mermaid like being.[2] The being turns out to be the Yara's namesake, Iara, protector of the sacred waters. Iara gifts Yara her Golden Boleadoras. While on a flight back to Rio with João, Yara is attacked by Amazons of unknown origin. After Yara had defeated them the plane is brought down by the Greek gods Zephyros and Eros, the latter of whom falls in love with Yara after cutting his hand on his own arrow.[3] After the plane crash, Yara and João embrace but are interrupted by Eros trying to hit Yara with one of his arrows. After being beset by various Amazonian mythological beings, Eros stabs Yara with one of his arrows, making her fall in love with him and obey his commands. Eros takes Yara to Mount Olympus to meet Hera, the Queen of the Gods.[4]

Yara would train with various gods on Mount Olympus and tame a pegasus she named Jerry. Before the time came to become Hera's champion, she visited João and went on a date with him. She would then encounter an Amazon of the Amazon named Potira, who claimed to have known Yara. revealed Yara's origins; that she is the daughter of an Amazon named Aella, who sought adventure and settled in Brazil, and a god. Artemis and Cassandra Sandsmark would then interrupt and would allow Yara the chance to make her choice of whether or not to become Hera's champion, with Cassie warning Yara of the dangers she now faces. Yara would return to Olympus, ready to become Hera's champion.[5]

Yara decides to refuse the elixer and Hera's offer to become her champion, inraging the Queen of the Gods. She has Hephaestus's mechanical soldiers attack Yara. Yara calls Jerry to escape but is intercepted by Zephyros and knocked to the ground, seemingly killing Jerry. Hera appears and makes short work of Yara. She then orders Hephaestus to send Yara to Tartarus, which he does by shattering the Earth with his hammer.[6]

While Yara is imprisoned in Tartarus, Eros vists, angry that Yara refused to become Hera's champion. After Eros left, Yara is attacked by a giant. Yara is able to defeat the giant with her Boleadoras. Jerry, who survived Zephyros' attack, retrieves Yara and flys out of Tartuarus. When they reach the Gates of Olympus, Yara struggles to open the gate, and is confronted by the same soilders - sent by Hara - that killed her mother as a child, and she told Jerry to stay back, as this was her fight.[7]

Powers and Abilities

Powers

Divine Empowerment: As a demigod, Yara Flor possesses superhuman powers.

Superhuman Speed[5]

Superhuman Strength[3]

Abilities

Archery[5]

Art of War[5]

Equestrianism[5]

Hand-to-Hand Combat (Advanced)[5]

History[5]

Multilingualism: She can speak Brazilian Portuguese, English and American Sign Language,[1] skill reinforced by education received from Eros.[5]

Philosophy[5]

Swordsmanship[5]

Paraphernalia

Equipment

Kokoshnik Tiara[5]

Transportation

Jerry, the Winged Horse[5]

Weapons

Amazonian Sword: Fashioned by the god Hephaestus himself[5] with a style of the weapons of the Amazonian tribes.

Golden Boleadoras: This divine weapon was given to Yara Flor by Iara, the Brazilian water goddess.[3]

Electro-Blast[8]

[shinydelirium]

MLQC Season 2 Chapter 8 (Kiro) Part 2 [Scramble] & [Bad Signs] Translation [CN]

***SPOILERS*** THIS POST CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS FOR CONTENT NOT YET RELEASED ON EN SERVER!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!***

For the previous translations of Season 2 Chapter 8: Part 1

Enjoy~

[Scramble]

Tomorrow is Kiro’s new song conference.

This will be Kiro’s first public appearance since the “black powder incident”.

There are still many things to prepare and Kiro’s plan to “disappear out of thin air” has been resolved and things are on track again.

Such an ordinary and busy life makes me feel a long-lost sense of peace.

At 7 o’clock in the evening, I opened the door of the office and put my coffee and supper for overtime work on the table, but found that everyone was gathered around watching something.

MC: What’s going on?

Kiki: A large passenger plane almost crashed.

Kiki spoke and pointed to the live video taken by a witness on the screen.

Kiki: I heard that the aircraft was affected by strong air currents which caused the aircraft’s instruments to malfunction. During landing, it almost ran off the runway. Look, it’s so thrilling!

MC: Are there any casualties?

Willow: Although it landed safely, there is probably still some psychological aftermath.

Willow: By the way, boss, didn’t you also go to the airport today? Didn’t you know how serious it was?

I took the newspaper and scanned the headlines that were in bold.

“Fright in the air—Captain Evolver turned the tide and saved 189 passengers”—Was it that serious?!

Kiki: In fact, it is also a good thing. The relationship between ordinary people and Evolvers was so tense some time ago. This news can ease the relationship.

Kiki: Oh yeah, boss, here is the venue layout for the new song conference. You can take a look.

Kiki’s words brought me back to the present, and I took the plan from her.

The company attaches great importance to this event and has specially contracted the central square with the largest traffic in the city center and selected 3000 fans to participate in this new song launch event.

The surrounding LED screens and bus stations were all taken over by Kiro advertisements and even the subway stations printed the promotion of Kiro’s new song release in advance.

MC: Our security measures must be handled well, and there must be no mistakes and follow-up propaganda must be kept up while the iron is hot.

MC: Wait a minute, what’s that webpage right there?

Kiki: Oh, this—

Willow: …Don’t look at it, boss.

I didn’t listen and grabbed the mouse and clicked on the webpage. As soon as I looked, the huge bold words caught my attention.

“Freshly released--11th Annual Lightning Protection Ranking for Media Graduate’s Employment”

Kiki: Boss, your approval rate is only 10%.

Willow: You have to add the votes cast by a few of us to switch back and forth for you.

MC: ….Why are you so concerned about such boring things!

Willow: Hehe, this is not for you to fight injustice.

Kiki: But don’t worry, as long as Kiro stands on the stage, everything will be fine. He is our ace artist.

I clicked on the comment section of “Miracle Finder” and found that there were still many insults against the show and Evolvers.

Kiki: Speaking of, there was a high school student who came to the company last week and said he was looking for the boss. His words were very intense and I didn’t know why.

Kiki: It could also be affected by recent public opinion to express dissatisfaction with our program.

Thinking of countless harassing calls, rumors from the outside world, obstacles and prejudices during the filming of “Miracle Finder”…

I couldn’t help but clench my fists. Then, my heart ignited an unprecedented fighting spirit.

MC: Alright, it’s time to kick away the negativity and theories that have accumulated before!

The cold light from above shines into the empty, confined dim space. The dark grey staircase in the middle continues to spiral up like a snake sleeping in the shadows.

??: Sir, the undercover agents F-45 and U-2 of the Task Force have died.

??: …Also, the young man said that no more medicine will be provided to us during this time. If we want to trade, we need to show greater sincerity.

Thinking of the dark gray-eyed youth, the reporting man showed fear on his face.

??: …The experimental record of the transaction at the auction is indeed fake and it appears to be bait released by B.S. itself.

The man in the wheelchair did not respond and seemed not to care about the news reported by his subordinate.

He only looked at the detailed information in his hand.

“The Inverted Smile Film and Television Company’s veteran variety show “Miracle Finder” has reached a new record. The company and the Task Force have reached a filming cooperation and the crime documentary has been a great success”…

His gaze fell on a line of words, showing a thoughtful expression.

It turns out that the producer who was taken away by the Task Force is also from B.S.

A smiled appeared on his lips and his fingers seemed to tap the handrail lightly in a steady rhythm.

??: Sir, we can’t wait any longer. The organization’s recent actions have been constrained everywhere. We must find the person behind it…..

The man in the wheelchair raised his head and looked at his subordinate gently.

??: Don’t worry, there is still plenty of time.

??: When the fish bites the hook and jumps out of the water, you will naturally see the person fishing on the other end.

??: Right now, we have found the best fish to bite the bait.

[Bad Signs]

With Kiro’s return, my work has been on the right track.

The days seem to blend together and there has been no room for breathing.

Early the next morning, I drowsily walked out the gate of the residence, ready to go to the company.

A newsstand was set up next to the entrance and several people were distributing free newspapers while saying something to the pedestrians passing by.

Enthusiastic woman: Hey, miss, come here.

MC: Ma’am, what is it?

I took the newspaper from her in wonder. My eyes quickly swept across the headlines of today’s news.

“In-depth restoration of airport accident; the flight nearly crashed due to the Captain’s Evol!?!”

I skimmed through the full article and found that today’s news’ explanation of the aviation accident was a big reversal compared to yesterday.

It turned out that the accident wasn’t caused by turbulence, but because the captain’s Evol was out-of-control.

Yesterday’s news was just to quell the recent series of press releases against Evolvers, concealing the facts.

Is that really the case….

Looking at the vicious words above, I frowned slightly.

The people handing out the newspapers yelled the truth about the media’s hidden information while continuing to distribute newspapers to passing pedestrians.

The crowd of onlookers whispered on one side and from time to time, their conversations trickled into my ears.

Passerby A: The truth about yesterday’s emergency landing accident was not what was reported on TV at all.

Passerby B: Obviously this Captain’s out-of-control Evol affected the flight and yet they said he was a hero. I think this kind of person shouldn’t be in this type of industry.

Passerby C: Yeah, Evolvers shouldn’t be engaged in this kind of business when they are responsible for public safety!

The ridicule of Evolvers and the dissatisfaction with the truth about the media hiding things continued on. Some are justified but some are just unfounded.

Hearing everyone’s increasingly violent words, my heart feels weak.

The life that has been calm for a short time seems to have caused waves again.

As soon as I got to the company, my cell phone rang and I saw it was an unfamiliar number.

MC: Hello? May I ask who’s calling?

The other end was quiet for a while, and then I heard a somewhat stiff voice.

??: Cancel today’s event or you will face the consequences.

The person on the other end deliberately lowered his voice but I could still tell that he was a young boy.

MC: Sorry, I don’t understand what you are talking about.

MC: Hello…?

He suddenly hung up.

I was confused and wanted to call back but only the sound of a dial tone was heard.

Getting all kinds of strange phone calls these days, I didn’t pay too much attention to it but I still increased security measures for the afternoon activities.

I put down my phone and looked up at the weather outside the window feeling a little disturbed.

In any case, I hope everything goes well in the afternoon.

On the empty train station platform, a staff member made an announcement, urging passengers to leave.

After confirming that no one remained, he walked out of the kiosk, put a “suspended operation” sign in front of the train and left.

In a corner where no one noticed, the elevator door slowly opened and a thin boy stepped out.

He lowered his head and walked to the car door, slightly raised his hand and the sign was pushed aside.

When he raised his hand again, the train door seemed to be torn open arbitrarily by some force.

The boy went straight in.

The quiet train suddenly rumbled and lurched forward.

-End of Part 2-

Continue to Final Part 

[tamorasky]

Rise to Me Chapter 12 - August 1943

Summary: 1947. It had been nearly four years since she had received a letter from her sister. Now with the end of the war and her impending wedding, Anna Rendelle is more determined than ever to find her sister.

1943. All her life Elsa Rendelle had been told to be good, know her place and to marry well. When an opportunity arises to make something of herself, finding herself in Occupied France as a part of a larger network of secret agents.

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Anna/Kristoff, Elsa/Honeymaren, Anna/Hans (Briefly)

AO3

She feels sick to her stomach as she and Yelana walk down the hall of the barracks, neither of them speak as they push through the door. Outside, a black car sits outside of the building. Elsa follows Yelana towards the vehicle. Both of the women climb into the back of the car.

“Remember the curfew in Arras has been changed to nine-thirty.” The older woman reiterates as they drive through the dark military base.

Elsa nods in response, tucking her hands into the pockets of a coat that isn’t hers; pulling out a cinema stub and a bus ticket from Givenchy to Arras, both printed in French. Things created to make her character more authentic; more so than Elsa has been in her entire life.

“This is for you.” Yelana passes Elsa a small leather purse. The younger woman takes it, glancing into the bag. It contains a compact, lipstick and wallet. These were all seeming toiletries but were in fact essential tools for her in the field; things she saw at her training at Rhubana lodge.

They pass an RAF guard holding a lantern and stop on the edge of the aerodrome. Elsa emerges from the car and walks towards the driver, who was unloading bags from the back of the vehicle. She grabs the case which contains her radio, but Yelana reaches forward to stop her.

“A-am I not supposed to?”

“The radio is too heavy for the Lysander. It will be dropped separately.”

“Oh…” Elsa stares at the suitcase, somewhat dismayed that she was departing with the radio that had been by her side over the past months. With much hesitancy she lets of the radio, glancing to the tarmac at the tiny Lysander. Her heart pounds in her chest at the thought that her wireless was too heavy to be transported on the plane but could carry her.

“It will be delivered to you,” Yelana explains. “Don’t worry. They’re very good.”

Though the older woman’s words were meant to reassure her, they don’t. Elsa doesn’t even know who these people are, how is she expected to trust them or believe Yelana’s words.

They stand on the edge of the airfield, the damp air chilling Elsa to the bone. Yelana turns to the young woman, grabbing her cuffs to ensure they are folded just so. As usual, the grey-haired woman is emotionless, but Elsa notices the way her hands tremble.

That is when her chest grows cold. Seeing Yelana’s fear sparks Elsa’s own. Yelana stares at her, giving her a nod before leading her towards the plane. The words Batting Order chalked on the side of the plane, followed by names she didn’t know.

“What are those?” She asks.

“It’s the priority of persons to be rescued if they are at the landing site. The plane only fits three people and can’t wait for more than a minute for passengers.” Yelana explains. Elsa nods, wondering why she is going overseas willingly while there are countless others trying to escape the continent. She wonders if she’ll ever be on a plane home to Anna. She hopes she will be.

“Your money.” Yelana hands her a neat stack of francs, wrapped in a rubber band. “Half your pay comes in cash when you’re in the field to use for things you need. The rest will be paid to you in pounds upon your return home. And this is for you.”

Much to Elsa’s surprise, Yelana hands her a necklace with a small silver snowflake charm. It is not a gift. Yelana unscrews the pendant next to the charm to reveal a small cyanide capsule.

“The final friend.” The older woman states. “Germans know the smell and will try to make you spit it out. So you’ll need to chew it quickly.”

Elsa takes it from Yelana with a nod. “Thank you.”

“You can thank me by getting the job done.” Yelana takes Elsa’s hand, squeezing it for slightly too long. She then turns and stalks across the field towards the waiting car without another word.

With shaking hands Elsa approaches the plane. She has never flown before and the small plane in front of her brought no comfort, it is intimidating.

A man sits in the cockpit, waving for her to come aboard rather impatiently. She wastes no time in entering the plane, settling herself in a narrow seat behind the pilot. Within moments the crew close the doors, sealing Elsa’s fate.

She had expected her pilot to be a military pilot, but his red hair is longer than military standard just barely touching the sherpa of his leather bomber jacket. Elsa can’t believe that the stubbled man in front of her is flying her to France. Hoping to god he is experienced enough to land her safely in France.

“There has been a change of plans.” He announces, revealing himself to be Irish.

“Oh?” Elsa inquires, trying to retain her composure as her stomach flips violently.

The pilot nods curtly. “You’ll be landing blind.”

She watches as the man turn back towards the control, pressing buttons and gauges she doesn’t recognize. Looking up from her lap, Elsa sees the propeller on the plane’s nose turn through the windshield.

The plane rolls forward, jostling her as it rolls along the uneven earth. The sound of the propeller and engine resounding loudly in her ears as they increase pace. Elsa takes deeps breaths, trying not to panic and convince herself that this is the right decision for her. There is no backing down from this. Landing blind. No one is coming for her when she lands, it is up to her to find her point when arriving in France.

She cries out as the ground slips out from underneath her. It is strange to the young woman, her hand pressed against the cold metal side of the plane. Taking a deep breath, she looks out of the small window; hoping to catch the sight of Yelana and the car, but they had already left.

Her eyes squeeze shut as the plane shoots up at a steep angle. Her stomach-dropping, she leans forward, her forearms resting on her knees, her head dropping between her legs. She felt as if she might be sick. Taking shallow breaths as they had been instructed to fight off nausea as they had been instructed. She cannot throw up in the plane.

The wave subsides, allowing Elsa to slowly raise herself from between her legs. Deciding to look out of the window as the pilot had stopped talking to her; not that they could hear one another over the engine.

She can’t see any houses below, even though she knew there were. The mandatory blackouts had managed to turn the entire countryside dark. Elsa stares at the countryside, her heart aching at the thought of her sister. Wishing that she could see London and at least imagine Anna walking down the street in that damn reefer coat.

Her hand clutches the jacket as the plane drops and turns sharply to the left. She places her free hand on the seat to avoid being sent forward by the jolt trying not to panic at the turbulence.

“Is something wrong?” She calls loudly to be heard over the deafening roar of the engine. The pilot shakes his head, glancing over his shoulder briefly to the woman.

“No, everything it fine. You just feel everything flying in this thing. God knows the Lysander isn’t the best, I mean the Germans could take this thing down with a rock.” He comments, spiking Elsa’s anxiety. “But I can put her down in any condition and quickly.”

He eases on the throttle as they reach the French coast, lowering the plane into a thick fog to encircle the plane. The pilot glances out of the window, trying to get a better view of the ground below.

“We may have to turn back.” He announces.

“We can’t wait till it clears?” Elsa inquires. Knowing that if they turned back, she wouldn’t get back into this plane.

He shakes his head. “Unfortunately, no. We need to be back in ally airspace by daylight. We won’t be able to fly fast or high enough to escape enemy fire.”

Elsa’s arm hairs stand on end as fear slowly creeps under her skin as it occurs to her, she could die even before landing in France. “A-are we turning back?”

“I think I can manage it. Seems like we’re close enough to the right spot. I’m going to make a go at it.” He states, his deep voice confident.

“That doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.” She laughs nervously.

He turns to her with a smirk, shaking his head. “You’re going to want to hold on tight. This is going to be rough.”

The plane drops without much notice, causing Elsa to grip the seat once again as the plane shoots in a downward spiral. Her heart pounds in her ears, trying to convince herself that they are not crashing, just that the pilot might be a maniac. She closes her eyes, taking shallows breaths again as her nausea returns.

The hard jolt vibrates through Elsa’s body as the plane hits the ground, she hadn’t braced as she trained for although it only caused an initial shot of pain in her lower back. The plane glides along the ground, both the pilot and Elsa feeling every bump outside of the plane.

The plane jerks to a stop with the brakes squeaking loudly, Elsa wonders if someone could have heard them. The pilot stands, opening the door to glance outside of the plane. “As I thought, no one for return.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Elsa inquires, grabbing her purse, which had fallen on the ground from their journey.  

“It could mean a lot of things. But yeah, they might have been captured.” The pilot sighs. “Alright, head east for the train station. You need to keep low and move quickly through the trees. There should be a blue bicycle behind the station. There should be further instructions upon your arrival.”

“S-should?” Elsa stutters, her blood running cold. “A-and if there isn’t?”

“It’s Sylvestre’s circuit. Everything will be in order.” The man reassures her.

Elsa nods as the pilot watches her, waiting for her to leave the plane. He clears his throat, his gaze darting at the door and back to the young woman. With her heart pounding, Elsa has no other option. She has to leave the plane.

He watches the young woman as she stands shakily, offering her a sympathetic smile. “I’d come with you if I could. But I can’t leave the Lysander.”

“Oh, of course. No, I understand. Thank you for everything.” Elsa nods as she climbs out of the plane.

“Good luck.” He states. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

Elsa narrows her eyes at him, wondering if this was a test. “Marguerite.”

“I’m Will.” The pilot smiles at her with a nod. “But you best be off.”

“Of course.” She turns from the plane, feeling his gaze on her as she stalks away from the landing site. While inching closer to the treeline, Elsa glances over her shoulder to see the door to the Lysander closed. The engine revs and the plane begins to roll forward, picking up speed.

Elsa turns away before it takes off from the ground. She is totally alone now, stepping into the unknown. She walks across the field in complete darkness, searching for the cover of the trees.

The smell of lavender envelops her scent as if she stepped back into her childhood; of summers spent in Île de Ré. Running through fields on the coast at her grand-mère’s cottage on the isle. Elsa used to sit in the field of lavender outside of the house, while Anna ran around her in circles calling out for her; the very reason why she and Anna were often sent outside by their mother and grand-mère.

She finds the tree cover, standing among the dogwoods and pine trees, trying to recall what way Will had pointed when he directed her to go east. Reaching for her purse, Elsa slips her hand into the bag to find the makeup compact equipped with a compass. She squints trying to read the compass by the light of the moon.

Orienting herself east, Elsa meanders through the trees. She trips on a rock, landing on the forest floor hard. The wind becomes knocked out of her as she falls, a pain throbbing through her ankle. Sitting up, she thinks back to her first morning at Rhubana lodge, wishing now more than ever that Honeymaren would be by her side. With a huff Elsa stands from the dirt, wincing with her first step but the pain subsiding as she continues.

“Arrêt!” A voice orders. Elsa freezes, her heart hammering in her chest. She couldn’t believe it she had already been caught. On her first night, not even an hour into her mission. There is no way of telling if it is the Germans or French police; either way, she had failed.

Her hand flies to the necklace, her fingers brushing over the snowflake and her mother’s locket as she wonders if she should take the cyanide now. She never thought she would need it so soon.

She turns to see a tall, imposing man standing behind her in the dark. Her breath stops as his gun is levelled at her.

“Jesus Christ, you’re a fool.” The man growls in English. “You never listen to them, you either run or fight. But never obey!”

“I…uh…” She stammers. But without another word he grabs her by the elbow, leading her roughly through the wood. Instinctively she pulls away from the stranger, unable to stand his touch.

Her feet drag against the cold tile of the building, four hands holding her up as they dragged her back to her shared room, having no strength to stand on her own. Her head lulled up at the bright lights of the building as screams echoed through the hall. This had been all her fault.

“Come on!” He takes her arm again with a growl as if trying to lead a stubborn mule. “Unless you want to be found by the Milice!”

She hesitates, having no information about anyone she is to meet in this whole racket. According to the pilot, no one is meeting her at all. The young woman wonders as she is dragged through the forest if this man is actually one of them.

With no choice, Elsa follows after him as he urges her on. They walk through the forest, remaining completely silent as the moon shines down on them.

It could all be a trap, a member of the Milice dragging her through this forest to her death. Or worse to be tortured into giving information. She isn’t even sure if she had any information to give up to the Germans at this point. Her radio hadn’t come with her so there was no ability to use the wireless to contact the SOE, nor did she know anyone within the circuit.

They reach a clearing, with what must be farmland. The silhouette of the farmhouse noticeable in the distance. On the edge of the land stands a small windowless shed.

“You are to stay here tonight.” The stranger states, pulling her towards the structure.

“What? No.” Elsa objects, shaking her head. “I’m supposed to be at a train station and find a bike for my circuit.”

“Be quiet!” He snaps harshly, causing the blonde to shrink into herself. “You should never mention anything about a circuit! Never mention any names to anyone.”

“What about my wireless?” Elsa questions, insisting on answers. She isn’t used to this; she is used to Yelana standing by her side answering the questions.

“Follow orders and stay here.” He opens the shed, struggling with the lock. “Someone will be here to collect you in the morning.”

He opens the door, letting her into the structure. There is no light and the air musky, warm air. She steps inside as though having no choice, the smell of manure overtaking her senses with no bed or toilet.

Without any warning, the door to the shed closes loudly, the sound of a key turning in the lock echoing through the small shed. Elsa rushes towards the door, her hand clasps on the handle and attempts to turn only for it not to turn. She couldn’t believe there were locking her in, she can’t even believe what is happening.

Footsteps outside of the shed disappear with a loud huff, leaving Elsa in silence. She turns from the door at the sound of something scurrying across the ground. Either a mouse or a rat. Elsa didn’t care to know at this point; her bones aching and her skin crawling.

She sinks to the ground, wrapping her arms around her knees as tries to calm herself in the dark. Her back resting against the wooden frame as her head hits against it with an audible thud.

Listening to the mouse or the rat scuttling, Elsa smiles thinking back to training. In which she had nearly destroyed the decoy set upon the woman by the instructor.

..............

They had been standing around in the lodge, listening to the instructor about various explosives. The next thing she knew, several women were screaming and scampering away from the animal in the middle of the floor.  

Elsa didn’t hesitate as she stepped towards the rat, ready to kill it in a second.  But stopped as she noticed something different with this one. She leaned over picking it up to see it was an obvious fake.

She held it up to the professor with a questioning gaze. The professor smiled at her, taking the rat from her hand.

“This!” He held it up to show the class. “Is a decoy

The girls gathered around their teacher, inspecting the decoy with interest as he further explained “The Germans will think it’s a dead rat until they get close.”

He walked away from the girls to the opposite field without another word, before rejoining them as he instructed them to step back. He pressed a button on a detonator held in his hand and without any other warning the rat exploded. Causing a series of gasps to erupt among the women.

..............

Elsa smiles at the memory. She and Honeymaren had sat on one of their beds that night, laughing at how most women scattered at the sight and how Elsa had been ready to destroy it without a second thought.

She wishes Maren would be with her now, there would be an arm draped over her shoulder and whispers of reassurance throughout the shed. At least with Honeymaren by her side, Elsa would have some confidence that she hadn’t fucked this entire mission up on her first night.

[stylesluxx]

cold? chilling? freezing (III) – s.rogers

[warnings: swearing, a fight scene, and like 30 seconds of tension]

summary: in which y/n is an assassin turned lover | part two| part four

word count: 2,967

masterlist

Natasha went with the medical team so she could keep an eye on Barton and you decided to let them have a private moment.

You walked to the setting where you were first introduced to the "team"; the room that had a meeting table and an overview of the agents working on their computers.

Tony and Steve sat a chair apart from each other and Fury stood at the head of the table, about to rant, no doubt. Steve was looking down at the table and Tony was looking anywhere but towards the humans in the room. They both held looks of shame and possibly guilt.

You walked over and sat at the end of the table, a chair between you and Steve. You sighed and safely put your gun back at your ankle before looking up and waiting for Fury to talk.

"These were in Phil Coulson's jacket," He started and tossed the bloody Captain America cards on the table. "I guess he never did get you to sign them."

You watched Steve hesitantly reach over and look at one of the cards, his frown deepening. You tore your eyes from the sad sight and focused on Fury again.

"We're dead in the air up here. Our communications, the location of the Cube, Banner, Thor... I got nothing for you. I lost my one good eye. Maybe I had that coming... Yes, we were going to build an arsenal with the Tesseract. I never put all my chips on that number, though, because I was playing something even riskier.

"There was an idea, Stark knows this, called the Avengers Initiative. The idea was to bring together a group of remarkable people, to see if they could become something more. To see if they could work together when we needed them to, to fight the battles we never could. Phil Coulson died still believing in that idea. In heroes."

Tony abruptly stood up and your eyes stood up, following him out before looking over at Steve. You both stood up and followed him out but keeping a distance.

Tony stopped in an open area with stairs and looked over the banister, his arms behind his back. You and Steve stood next to each other, 20 feet away from the billionaire.

"Did he have a wife?" Steve spoke up after a minute of silence.

"No," Tony answered. "There was a cellist, I think."

"I'm sorry."

"He seemed like a good man," You spoke before clearing your throat.

"He was an idiot," Tony bluntly responded.

"Oh!" You hummed and blinked at him in shock.

"Why? For believing?" Steve countered.

"For taking on Loki alone."

"He was doing his job.”

Tony scoffed, "he was out of his league. He should have waited. He should have..."

Steve walked closer to Tony but you decided to stay back. If they were going to argue again, you didn't want to be too close.

"Sometimes there isn't a way out, Tony."

"Right, I've heard that before."

"Is this the first time you lost a soldier?"

"We are not soldiers!" Tony snapped and looked back at Steve with wide eyes. "I'm not marching to Fury's fife."

"Neither are we," You said and leaned against the wall next to you.

"He's got the same blood on his hands that Loki does. But right now, we got to put that behind us and get this done. Loki needs a power source. If we can put together a list-"

"He made it personal," Tony cut him off.

"That's not the point."

"It actually is the point," You corrected Steve. "Loki's been tricking and manipulating us this whole time. He has no doubt made it personal and that was the plan but it's also going to be our strength."

"He hit us right where we live. Why?" Tony rhetorically asked.

"To tear us apart," Steve answered.

"Divide and conquer us, great, but he knows he has to take us out to win, right? That's what he wants."

"He wants to beat us and he wants to be seen doing it," You nodded, confirming Tony's thinking. "He wants an audience. This is opening night. And Loki, he's a full-tilt diva, right?"

"Definitely a rival of yours," You mumbled.

"He wants flowers, he wants parades. He wants a monument built to the skies with his name plastered... Son of a bitch."

You saw the gears turning in Tony's head and watched as he walked away to get suited up. You and Steve shared an amused look before you both walked out, going to your rooms to suit up too.

You stripped off the dirty and ripped clothes, tossing them into the trash.

You met back up with the team as you spotted them walking toward a seemingly empty plane. You noticed Barton was suited up and ready to go, making you excited to see him in action.

"Tony's meeting us?" You asked Steve and he nodded.

"Already left."

"Two things," You said and held up two fingers. "One, you do realize Fury was just guilt-tripping us to get our shit together, right?"

"Well, a spy's a spy," He shrugged. "And two?"

"We're about to steal a plane?" You questioned as you all walked through the entrance.

"Hey, you guys aren't authorized to be in here."

"Son, just don't," Steve shook his head.

Clint and Natasha pushed by the agent and Steve nodded toward where we entered, gesturing for him to leave. He got the hint and left but you figured he was just on his way to tell Fury what happened.

You sat in the seat closest toward the front of the plane and Steve sat across from you.

"Are you nervous?" He asked and glanced over at your leg before back into your eyes.

You hadn't realized your leg was bobbing up and down and you immediately stopped it.

"No," You deadpanned and looked away from him.

The plane was going over Star tower when Loki shot at it, making you and Steve hold onto whatever was closest to you. He had one hand clutching a bar on the ceiling and the other was gripping onto your bicep while yours were both gripping the bar.

"Captain, hold onto the pipe," You told him.

He let go of you and gripped the pipe as you crashed into the middle of the city.

You both jumped down and the four of you raced outside.

"We gotta get back up there!" Steve said as he looked up at the incoming alien army.

You stopped in the bridge when you heard a monstrous noise. You and Steve stood side by side and Natasha and Barton were right beside you.

"What the fuck..." You mumbled and looked up at the blue portal in the sky.

It looked like a robotic whale and as it flew past you, you inched closer to the group.

"Stark are you seeing this?" Steve spoke into his earpiece.

"Seeing. Still working on believing. Where's Banner? Has he shown up yet?"

"Banner?" You questioned.

"Just keep me posted."

You started running and had behind a taxi as the aliens began shooting at you, the group quickly followed behind.

"We've got civilians still trapped up here," Barton said and pointed to the buildings.

Steve looked over at the people on the ground as things started to blow up.

"We got this. It's good. Go," Natasha said to Steve.

He looked over at you and nodded.

"Y/N's, with me. Do you think you can hold them off?"

"Captain, it would be my genuine pleasure," Barton spoke confidently before he pulled out an arrow and started shooting the aliens.

You nodded and ran, making sure your foot landed on the railing of the bridge so you could jump down. You and Steve both rolled and jumped off the bus as it blew up behind you.

Steve ran over to the police as you went over to civilians and pointed at where they should run to.

"Subways or anywhere underground!" You told them and pointed to a train station a block away.

Once you made sure that that strip was clear, you hopped on a couple of cars before getting on top on a bus. You were going to climb up the railing but of course, the super-soldier had more momentum and grabbed you, before leaping onto the bridge.

You ran next to Natasha and kicked an alien off the bridge before you heard another big crash.

You looked over and saw Thor leaning on the car next to him to get on his feet.

"What's the story upstairs?" Steve asked.

"The power surrounding the Cube is impenetrable," Thor said.

"Thor's right. We got to deal with these guys," You heard Tony in your ear.

"How do we do this?" Natasha asked.

"As a team," Steve said making you roll your eyes at the cliché line. "I know you're not used to a team, but today, just pretend," Steve rudely directed toward you, his eyes narrowed.

"I've been on a team before. Don't act like you know anything about me, Captain," You spat, upset that he thought he knew anything about you. "You don't know much, so don't assume and just stick with what you do know."

"I have unfinished business with Loki," Thor redirected the conversation and you tore your enraged eyes away from Steve.

"Yeah? Well, get in line," Barton huffed.

"Loki's going to keep the fight focused on us and that's what we need. Without him, these things could run wild. We got Stark up top. He's going to need us to-"

Steve was cut off by the sound of a motorcycle and you turned to look at Banner.

You all walked over to him but you kept your distance, staying behind Steve and next to Natasha.

"So, this all seems horrible," He said awkwardly as he got off the bike.

"No kidding," You scoffed and crossed your hands over your chest.

"I've seen worse," Natasha said, alluding to the big green monster.

"Sorry."

"No, we could use a little worse."

"Stark, we got him," Steve informed Tony.

"Banner?"

"Just like you said."

"Then tell him to suit up. I'm bringing the party to you."

You looked up and saw the whale-like thing from earlier.

"I-I don't see how that's a party," Natasha said.

"He's such a jackass," You mumbled.

Banner quickly turned into the Hulk and punched the monster, trying to keep it away but it only started to flip over.

"Hold on!" You heard Tony as he shot into it.

Steve was quick to put up his shield and move over so he could protect and cover both of you.

Even after being an asshole, he was still a decent guy. You thought it weird how his mind immediately thought of covering himself as well as you of all people. You had just butted heads not even two minutes ago, but here he was, gripping onto your shoulder and holding his shield above you. Of course, this wasn't the first time he had been looking after you, but you were just now detecting a pattern. You hadn't known him for a full day yet but it seemed like you never left his mind.

"Are you always this chivalrous?" You asked, taking a peek over your shoulder to look at him.

"Yes, ma'am," He nodded making you chortle.

He stood up once the damage was done and gently pulled you up with him. The seven of you stood in a circle, facing outwards so you could assess everything.

"Guys," You spoke up and watched as more of the big aliens came through the portal.

"Call it, Captain," Tony said as they all saw what you were looking at.

"All right, listen up. Until we can close that portal, our priority is containment. Barton, I want you on that roof. Eyes on everything. Call out patterns and strays. Stark, you got the perimeter. Anything gets more than three blocks out, you turn it back or you turn it to ash," Steve directed them.

Tony grabbed Barton and flew up into the sky, taking Steve's orders.

"Thor, you got to try and bottleneck that portal. Slow them down. You got the lightning. Light the bastards up," He continued before Thor flew away. "Us three, we stay on the ground. We keep the fight here. And Hulk... Smash."

The solitude you had on the bridge was gone now and was becoming more of an attraction to the aliens.

You were slammed on top of a car, making you groan. The alien went to attack you but you grabbed its weapon and kicked it away with both feet. You got up quickly and hit an incoming alien with the staff before shooting at the one that originally attacked you.

"What the hell are these things?" You asked but you knew the other two mortals had no idea.

You looked around and saw Natasha take out the last alien on the bridge. You huffed and sat on the dented hood of the car.

"You okay? You're bleeding?" Steve asked as he walked over to you.

"I'm good. But none of this is gonna mean a damn thing if we don't close that portal," You said between breaths.

Natasha walked over and looked over at Stark tower.

"Our biggest guns couldn't touch it," Steve frowned.

"Well, maybe it's not about guns," Natasha hummed was she came up with an idea.

"Give me a boost?" You asked him, an eyebrow raised and a smirk plastered on your face.

He was hesitant but backed up and put his shield in position for you to step on.

"You sure about this?" He asked.

"I'll be fine, Cap," You nodded confidently and backed up to the other side of the bridge.

He nodded and you ran toward the car, putting one foot on the hood before jumping on Steve's shield and clinging onto the alien's hovercraft.

You climbed up onto the hovercraft and grabbed a knife from your belt, cutting the chain off the alien. You roundhouse kicked it off the ship and before moving over to the driver.

"Okay, turn for me," You mumbled as you sunk your fists into its back. The alien went limp underneath you and you were now somewhat in control of the hovercraft.

You were almost at the tower as you looked around to see where your teammates were. Clint was in the building, Natasha was still on the bridge, Tony was in the sky shooting down some aliens, and the Hulk and Thor were nowhere to be found. You couldn't see Steve anywhere until he flew out of a window and onto a car.

"You alright Captain?" You spoke into the headset as you watched him stand up.

"Yeah. You get to the tower yet?" He asked and looked around to find you.

"Just arrived," You confirmed and jumped off the hovercraft and rolled into the rocks.

You groaned and laid there for a minute before getting up. You walked over to the cube, not noticing the man lying by it.

"The scepter," He croaked out from the edge of the building.

"Doctor Selvig. You alright?" You asked, turning to him and looking for any injuries.

"Loki's scepter. The energy," He babbled on.

"It's not your fault. He brainwashed you," You spoke and crouched down beside him.

"Actually, I think I did," He said and you looked at him with confused eyes.

He kept explaining to you that you needed the scepter to close the portal and you looked over the ledge and spotted it.

"Okay, I'll be right back," You said and went inside the building and taking the stairs.

You walked through, wanting to admire the fanciness of it all but knew you needed to do this quickly. You went outside and quickly grabbed the scepter before going inside and back upstairs. You walked over to the cube as Selvig opened up his computer and started to type. You pushed the scepter closer to the cube and sighed in relief when you realized the doctor was right.

"Captain, I can close it," You huffed out but still held optimism in your voice. "I can shut the portal down."

"Do it!" Steve replied eagerly.

"No, wait. I got a nuke coming in. It's gonna blow in less than a minute," Tony announced. "And I know just where to put it."

You sighed and kept the scepter tight in your grasp. You watched Tony fly close the tower and bring the nuke through the portal, making you sigh in relief.

"Come on, Tony," You mumbled as you watched the portal, waiting for him to fly out.

"Close it," Steve said, defeated.

"But-" You were starting to protest but stopped.

This was a mission, you had to remind yourself. It's not always going to end the way you want it to but as long as the job is done, it was a success.

You sighed and stuck the scepter into the cube, the portal quickly shutting. You watched it shut and displayed a small smile once you saw the red and gold suit.

"Son of a bitch," You chuckled and stepped away from where the portal used to connect.

You walked inside and watched Loki sit up from when the Hulk threw him down.

"Don't move too fast, might pass out," You antagonized him.

Minutes later the rest of the team came up and you gave Steve a small smile once you saw him which he returned. They walked over and stood next to you, as you stood over Loki while he crawled up the steps and turned the face you guys.

You stood next to Steve and behind Barton with Loki's scepter in your hand and tantalizing smirk.

[AN: sorry this took so long. I posted this part maybe about a week ago but tumblr wasn’t letting people see it so I had to wait a bit]

[tags: @thisartemisnevermisses​ @thatoneperson5000​]

[harryandmolly]

Complicit // 14 // Final

summary: Shawn is under more pressure than he’s ever known. He craves release and comfort, the simplicity of sex. He gets more than he bargained for.

warnings: language, love, love languages

WC: 8k

------------

He really, really should’ve had a plan.

But, in all fairness, Shawn’s never done the whole “jump on a 12 hour flight on a whim to chase after the love of his life” thing before, so how could he have been expected to make such a plan?

But still, he thinks, standing against a wall under a baseball cap outside Naples International Airport, he could’ve done some more thinking before all this. Or at least could’ve made a pseudo-plan on the plane.

The most Silver could give him in terms of guidance was the address of the house and that Naples is the closest airport. She’s never been to the “Vineyard” before. When Shawn asked if the “Vineyard” was a nickname or if it meant the house is on an actual vineyard, she didn’t know that either. Not extremely helpful, but he’ll figure it out. He has to.

From what he gathers on Google Maps, sucking up international roaming data charges like nobody’s business, Ravello is about an hour and a half southeast of Naples. Not ideal. But the Amalfi Coast is a pretty big attraction, so he figures there’s probably a train. He just has to find a train station.

On the way out the door with his backpack, the only luggage he bothered to pack, he Googles a train route. 

Walk half an hour to the Calata di… something something and take the N5 to… somewhere and walk 3 minutes to somewhere else to catch a bus to somewhere…

.... no fucking way.

He bites into his lip and squints around. Should he rent a car? He winces. Driving in Italy sounds terrifying. What if he gets into a crash? Who is he supposed to call?

No. He needs to hire a car to take him to Ravello. That’s the plan.

More Googling. More squinting. He’s vaguely grateful that he’s been able to stay under the radar so far. He’s not sure he could handle this and dozens of screaming Italian girls begging for selfies without snapping.

He ducks behind a large leafy fig tree when he sees what looks like a group of middle school-aged girls on a field trip scramble past, squealing and laughing. Close call.

He leans against a column and sighs. Silver also gave him Mia’s personal cell number. He could just call her and tell her he’s here and hope she wants to see him and come pick him up. 

Shawn sighs heavily, pouting. He’s not going to do that. This is his only shot at being a romantic hero, like, ever. He’s not going to pansy out and call her for a ride. He’s going to show the fuck up because that’s what Mia deserves.

Whether she wants to see him is another matter and he’d rather not worry about that until about halfway up her driveway.

He sets off toward the transportation center at a quick stride, curls fluttering between the brim of his cap and his forehead. He swerves suddenly to avoid another throng of young women that look ready for a beach vacation.

He parks in front of a driving service and a tall, unnaturally beautiful blonde man who doesn’t look up at him.

“Uh, ciao?” Shawn tries.

He glances up. Shawn holds his breath for the pop star response. It doesn’t come. He exhales.

“Do you speak English?” Shawn asks, wincing at how ignorant he sounds. The man nods boredly.

“Cool. Uh. Ok. I need to go to Ravello.”

“Si, Ravello. There is a train,” the man drawls, the slowest talking Italian Shawn’s ever met.

Shawn nods, uncertain. “Yeah. Right, yeah. But… can I get a car to drive me?”

The man even blinks slowly. “There is also a bus.”

Does this guy just not want business? Shawn sighs.

“Do you not take people to Ravello?” he tries, looking to bridge whatever gap this is as quickly as possible.

Finally, the man seems to give in. “Ravello is a long drive. 125 euro. We take--”

Shawn slaps his Visa down so fast the man stops abruptly and stares at him. He sees a tinge of crazy in Shawn’s travel-weary eyes. He fights the urge to roll his own and books the trip.

+

Shawn had hoped he’d start to relax in the car since at least then he’d know he was heading somewhere. There was no relaxing to be done.

His driver Giorgio seems to have gotten his start in Formula One. Shawn figures he should be grateful, given that the speed they’re driving at will probably cut the travel time in half. But he can’t help but wonder about the headlines if he dies in a fiery crash against the side of an Italian coastal mountain.

Pop Superstar Shawn Mendes Dies In Search Of Love, Giorgio to Blame

Shawn Mendes Perishes At The Height Of His Career, Unrecognizably Mangled

Shawn Mendes Is An Idiot, Fatally

He’s so sure there’s no way they’ll make it between the two trucks Giorgio decides to squeeze them through, but they do. Shawn slams his eyes shut and focuses on the Cez-approved meditation breathing exercises that, by the way, do not save you from your crazy Italian driver who almost plows into the back of a Peugeot going god knows how fast on the E45.

But at least he points out Mount Vesuvius. And doesn’t crash them into it.

They lose sight of the ocean for a while, which makes Shawn panic. The guy isn’t using a GPS, claims he knows every corner of every town on the Amalfi Coast. That sounded a lot better to Shawn before he got in the car, before they were winding through something called the “Riserva Statale Valle delle Ferriere,” which seems as good a place as any to ditch a body.

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.

It’s a chant in his head until, by some miracle, he catches sight of the water again and it’s exactly like every Instagram travel post he’s ever seen of the Amalfi Coast. He thanks whatever god there is, and thanks Giorgio, too, who grunts.

Ravello, Shawn’s not surprised to report, is fucking beautiful. Cliffs appear out of nowhere and spill off down bleached white coastline to crystalline turquoise water. It’s a goddamn postcard. The town, from what he can see of it from above, is a scattered board of colorful post-its clinging to the side of a mountain. His hungry brain tells him he can smell fresh pasta and seafood, but he knows it’s just an illusion of a man who ate half an airplane meal and a couple stale biscotti several hours ago.

Rather than descend toward the coast, Giorgio winds him around the hills past farms of lemon trees. The sun hangs low. Shawn thanks his lucky stars that he’s not having to deal with locating this place in the dark.

Giorgio stops at the base of a dirt road sporting a sign with Mia’s address. Shawn practically flings himself out of the car, almost forgetting his backpack. He shoves his Tom Ford sunglasses on against the harsh snap of the late afternoon sun. He looks around. Along the dirt path, hardly even a road, are rows upon rows of grape vines. It seems the house name is literal after all. He’ll be sure to tell Silver if he makes it out of this alive.

He starts walking.

It’s a trudge, really, up a reasonably steep hill. He slips once or twice and puts a knee into the dust, kicking up a froth of it around him that clings to his sweaty skin and white t-shirt. By the time he finds Mia, he’s going to look like he swam and crawled all the way to her. 

Good.

He crests the hill to find… more hills. There are a series of large buildings that don’t look anything like homes, more like warehouses or farmhouses. Given that it’s not yet harvest season, only a few hands are out tending the vines. He descends towards them, probably looking as ridiculous as he ever has in his life.

They seem to want to ignore him. It’s a habit of Italian men, maybe. He has to wave and walk straight up to the closest figure, an older, shorter man with only a few teeth to speak of.

“Ciao. Uh… Mia Bianchi?”

Shawn hopes if she’s the lady of the house, they’ll know to take him to her. The man stares back blankly.

“Uh… dove… Mia Bianchi?” he tries again. The man looks over his shoulder at his coworkers, who’ve stopped to stare at the tall, sunburnt Canadian idiot. Shawn sighs.

He doesn’t even have a picture to show them. She’s the love of his stupid life and he doesn’t even have a picture of her.

Except that he does. He has a lot of them. Black and white and sparkling. And completely inappropriate to be sharing with a bunch of strange farmhands. He grunts and reaches for his phone anyway, nearly dead, just like his chances of making this stupid romantic gesture work.

Shawn zooms in carefully to just her face and shows it to the smaller man. He squints and attempts to touch the screen, but Shawn nearly slaps his hand away.

“Dove Mia Bianchi?” he almost whines.

One of the younger hands strides up and glances at the picture. He exchanges a few words with the others and looks Shawn over. He sighs and nods at a golf cart a few yards away, then walks towards it.

Shawn blinks, then follows.

If nothing else, it’s a faster way to get over the hills. Plus, if he’s on the vineyard, she can’t be far, right?

“Mia?” Shawn asks, eyes wide and hopeful.

The guy shrugs. It’s not very comforting. But Shawn’s out of options, so he gets in the cart.

The hills just keep going. After about ten minutes of cruising along and over them with nothing but vines in sight, he’s suddenly incredibly grateful for the ride. He glances over at his driver, seemingly much more sane than Giorgio.

“Shawn,” Shawn says, pointing to himself with a flat smile and a little wave.

The man nods. “Maurizio.”

“Grazie, Maurizio,” Shawn grunts, sitting back as they ascend another, steeper hill. He worries for a moment about the possibilities of this golf cart skidding back down from whence it came. It becomes unimportant when they reach the peak and he sees a house.

Well, it’s not just a house. It’s practically a palace. From behind it, he can see the way it sprawls over tens of thousands of square feet. There’s a pool, he thinks, and a few different gardens, and it looks like a grove of trees, maybe olive or citrus, he’s not sure. At some point, the path turns from dirt to pebbles and the ride gets louder. It almost drowns out Shawn’s heartbeat in his ears.

Maurizio slows under the shade of two old stone pine trees and turns up a narrow path lined by lush, well-tended gardens replete with color. He takes the curve around the fountain in the center of the path slow enough for Shawn to notice the detailing. The basin of the fountain is held up by a sculpture of a renaissance-style naked woman. Curled against her, with his arm around her hips, is a man helping her hold it up. His face is tucked tenderly into her neck.

The cart stops. Maurizio clears his throat. Shawn stands and steps off.

“Uh, grazie!” he calls as Maurizio starts to gun it back down the path. Maurizio looks back at him and laughs in a way Shawn doesn’t need translated.

You’re a fucking idiot.

Shawn sighs for the millionth time that afternoon. He knows.

It’s golden hour on the coast. Behind the red tiled roof, the sun spills marigold light everywhere it touches, including the belltower on the chapel beside the main house. Green shudders flap gently in the evening breeze. The front door is wide open. The smell of fresh bread has Shawn’s mouth filling with saliva. He starts to head toward the door when he hears something.

Off to the left, down a grassy footpath, he follows it. It’s as familiar to him now as her perfume, as the feeling of her hair in his fingers, as the smile she gives him when he’s very good for her.

He’d know Ol’ Blue Eyes anywhere now.

It’s one of his Italian tracks, playing off a turntable parked in another open door on the side of the house. He drops his bag beside it, smiling when he hears pruning shears and quiet steps. The record sleeve reads “Come Back to Sorrento.”

He takes a deep breath and follows the sound of the shuffling steps. Sinatra’s voice fades as Shawn nears a small grove of olive trees. The grass below his feet is dappled with shade and the streaming sunset light. A breeze rustles a wave of red fabric out behind the trunk of a tree toward the back of the grove. 

Shawn holds his breath, watching a long bronzed leg follow it, stepping backward, then another. She’s on her tiptoes, barefoot in a deeply red mid-length sundress, the cap sleeves fluttering around her arms that follow her focused eyes to the branches above her head. She hasn’t spotted him yet. He could still run. He doesn’t have to stand here until she throws her pruning shears at his head for showing up at her family home unannounced in fucking Italy.

Mia turns her head to check on another branch and he lands in her periphery. Her lips part. Her eyes blow wide like saucers. The shears fall by her feet. She lowers off her toes to face him. The wrap dress hugs her everywhere he’d like to.

“Oh my god,” she breathes, lifting a hand into her hair just as another breeze picks up around them, lifting her dress around her knees to wave at him.

“So… uh… ciao,” Shawn nearly chokes.

+

Mia just stares for a minute. It feels like forever since she’s seen him, even if it’s only been a couple weeks.

He’s fucking glorious even covered in dirt. His hair is a little matted and sweaty, like he was wearing a hat. His white shirt clings to him. His black jeans have patches of dirt on the knees that give her flashbacks to the day she took him to Malibu in her Aston Martin. She shivers.

“What-- I mean, how… I don’t…”

“Silver told me you quit,” he blurts.

Mia’s eyes seem to swell again, then shut as she groans. “She gave you the address.”

“Yeah. I think… I think maybe she wanted you to want to see me.”

Mia chews on the inside of her lip. Another breeze tickles through the olive branches, surrounding them with a light earthy scent. Shawn shifts anxiously on his feet.

“So you just… showed up,” Mia murmurs. It’s a statement of fact, expressionless. She doesn’t sound annoyed or surprised or, to Shawn’s slight disappointment, pleased. But he knew better than to expect that. Or he thinks he should have.

Shawn shrugs. “I think after everything you’ve done for me, you deserve the effort.”

Mia’s lips tuck in slightly at the corners. She nods down at her feet. “Effort, huh?”

Shawn fights the urge to reach for her, even though it feels right. He wants to do this delicately.

Patience. That’s what Silver told him. If there’s anyone besides Mia he should be listening to right now, it’s Silver.

“I came because I want to talk to you. About everything.” His voice sounds impressively calm to his own ears, even as he feels his hands shake.

Mia looks up and immediately past him into the kitchen. She cards a fluttering strand of hair behind her ear and clears her throat.

“I have extra towels. You can clean up in the guest bath.”

She swerves around him and into the house. He stands there in the grove for a moment or two, blinking after her.

+

He’s not knocked out, he’s just… regrouping. That’s what Shawn decides in the shower as he scrubs the salty sweat from his hair and watches reddish dust swirl down the drain.

He was struck dumb when she led him up the stairs to one of what looks like many guest rooms. She got him a fluffy towel and showed him how to work the faucet because it’s a bit tricky. She turned and left without another word.

Shawn didn’t have a speech prepared or anything, he didn’t write a sonnet on the long trudge up to the house, but he didn’t expect her to shut down as soon as he started getting into it, whatever it was going to be. That took the wind out of his sails.

He’s not giving up. Not yet. If after a real conversation she says she does not love him and wants him out of her house, he’ll go. He’ll hold his head high and leave, knowing he put his heart on the line. And he’ll be ok.

Shawn’s breath shakes. He blinks quickly under the spew of warm water above his head. He plants a hand against the wall for stability. It’s the first time he’s let himself think about it, really consider the idea. What if he really actually made all this up in his head? What if she’s really as good as what he pays for and feels nothing for him beyond a professional sort of fondness? Or perhaps worse, what if she’s had feelings, but they’re not enough?

He closes his eyes and slowly scrubs his face with his pruny hands. He’s conspicuously been in the shower a long time. He bets she doesn’t mind -- gives her time to strategize.

Shawn lifts his head and turns off the faucet. He doesn’t want her strategies or her carefully delivered lines. He wants her.

He wants Mia as much as he wants Penny.

+

For once, Mia does something that would make the former owner of this home, her great grandmother, very proud. She sets aside her panic, confusion, irritation and angst and prepares for a guest.

She sets the table. She decants a bottle of Castello di Ama chianti. She hauls the record player back inside and switches over to Dean Martin’s Italian Love Songs and decides not to overthink the choice. She sets to work on a quick spaghetti alla vongole with the clams she bought at the market this morning. Her homemade loaf of ciabatta rests warm in a checkered cloth on the table.

Anything to distract herself.

But then she almost lops off a finger slicing the bread. She nicks the pad of her thumb and gasps, instinctively squeezing her fingers around the wound to staunch the bleeding.

“Hold on, I’ll get a napkin.”

She turns from the counter to see Shawn in a t-shirt and sweats at the bottom of the stairs, his hair shining wet against his neck. He swipes a paper napkin off a credenza and meets her at the counter. She watches him as he checks the cut, dabs it with the paper, wraps his hand around it to apply pressure and holds it over her head.

He looks down at her. “Does it hurt?”

“No, not really,” she murmurs, sounding sheepish.

He’s closer now to her than he was before. Holding her arm over her head seems an oddly intimate gesture between two people who’ve seen and done a lot more. It’s heightened by the way he caresses her palm with his fingers. He doesn’t even seem to notice he’s doing it.

“God, I missed you so much,” he says quietly, shaking his head.

Mia aches with the returning words and lets them rattle through her bones. She’s not going to say them back.

“I really don’t know what you were thinking coming here. Did you cancel work stuff? What about the album? And the tour?”

Shawn seems unfazed. “I’m on a break before we start working on tour promo. I actually went to your house. Got worried when I didn’t see Pammy’s leash outside.”

Mia’s eyes flash with affection. “She’s… staying with Gus for a while.”

Shawn nods slowly. “I bet you miss her.”

Mia’s eyes drop. Her other hand, gripping the counter behind her to keep from grabbing at him, squeezes tighter.

“Of course. All the time.”

After another few seconds of Shawn’s intense staring and Mia’s equally intense avoidance, he lowers her hand. The small cut has stopped bleeding. He cups her palm, kissing it gently. Mia turns away.

Shawn’s head drops. He sighs.

“So. You quit.”

Mia continues slicing bread. “Yes.”

“I’m surprised. I know how happy it made you.”

Mia’s stomach swoops. The ease with which he talks about her profession still strikes her sometimes when she least expects it. He talks about it like it’s any other job, like he never for a second thought to judge her for it.

“It got too complicated. I have other things I wanted to focus on.”

She takes the freshly sliced bread to the table. He follows with the bowls of salad and pasta.

“Like what?” he chirps.

Mia grunts, irritated. “A project. It’s a charitable thing.”

He seems to decide not to push for the moment. She tucks into her bowl of pasta, eager for something to shut him up.

He hums, bobbing his head as he slurps up a bite. “This is fucking great. I didn’t know you can cook.”

She shrugs. “I’m an Italian woman, Shawn. If I can’t cook, I shame my ancestors.”

He smiles as he swallows and reaches for his wine. He looks oddly relaxed, comfortable in her favorite surroundings. It strikes her as odd, suddenly, that he’s here. She’s never brought any non-family member here before. Not even Silver. Definitely not a client.

But Shawn brought himself. He flew 12 hours and, Mia knowing the journey well, probably took trains, buses, ferries and god knows what else to arrive on her doorstep.

She has yet to truly reckon with it. She sips at her own glass and watches him look around.

“This house is incredible. It’s a family place?” he asks.

Mia swallows and nods carefully. “For a long time. My great grandmother was the last one who lived here full time. We sold the vineyard in the 90s. The rest of the estate is still ours.”

Shawn looks around at the vaulted ceilings and the rustic stucco walls and stone floors. A glass door looks out onto a vast back patio strung with twinkle lights that overlooks the acres of vineyard land that used to belong to her family. The farmhands have packed it in for the evening. There’s no one in sight all the way to the horizon, where the sun has burst into flames of pink and gold. Shawn hasn’t felt this far away in a long time.

When he looks back, Mia doesn’t bother to look away. She knows the games are over. Glancing away from his pretty face so he doesn’t catch her staring won’t work anymore. He’s not here for a game. She swallows and feels her heart in her throat.

“I’m sorry it’s taken me so long,” Shawn murmurs. He sits forward across the smooth oak table. The sunset light catches him through the window. It makes his intense gaze even more entrancing. Mia’s fingers twitch around her wineglass.

“Don’t apologize. I don’t think I’m ready to hear whatever it is you’re about to say.”

She watches something flicker in his eyes uncertainly. He wets his lips and seems determined to soldier on.

“Mia, I know this wasn’t the plan. For either of us. It was never supposed to become… this. But I think it’s been something real since at least Vegas. Maybe before. And I think it’s as real to me as it is to you.”

Mia’s heart sprints. She knew what he was going to say. She’s known since he showed up in her little olive grove. She’s not sure why being so close to hearing the words has her pulsating in her own skin. She shifts in her seat.

“Shawn, please…” she begins, shaking her head, “I don’t want to put you through this. I know you’re already here and… god, I still can’t believe you’re here. But I don’t want to make you say it.”

“Why?” he presses, “Why can’t I say it?”

Mia closes her big brown eyes. He misses them immediately.

“Because it’s not going to make a difference. It can’t.”

She opens her eyes when she hears his wooden chair creak. He’s sitting back, his jaw tight, his eyes still on hers. He swirls the wine in his glass absently.

“Tell me I’m crazy. Not for coming out here, not for wanting this with you, tell me I’m crazy and I imagined all of it. Tell me it was all for show, all for money. Tell me Rio wasn’t real, or your house, or my house. Fuck, tell me Vegas wasn’t real. Mia, tell me you don’t love me. Please. If it’s true, please tell me.”

It’s silent. They’re far enough up the mountain from the town of Ravello that there’s no sound but the breeze in the trees and Mia’s heartbeat in her ears. She feels her face going scarlet with every word. Her hand shakes in her lap where he can’t see it.

She sits up tall, channeling Silver, and thumbs at the base of her glass.

“Like I said, it doesn’t make a difference.”

“How could it not?” Shawn hisses. He sits forward again, his gaze imploring, “Mia, it’s the only thing that matters.”

Mia scoffs. It’s patronizing and ugly. Shawn flinches.

“We both know better than that. We’re not teenagers, Shawn. Actually, even if we were, we’d be in the same position. You’ve been very famous for a very long time. I was never an option for you the same way you’ve never been an option for me,” Mia explains, her voice quivering under her false calm.

“Jesus Christ, Mia, you’re not an option,” Shawn spits. His eyes seem to darken, or maybe it’s a trick of the fading sun, “You’re the one. You’re the fucking one.”

Mia’s eyes drift shut as they well up. She lifts her hands into her silky hair and releases a rocky sigh.

“You’re not thinking. You have to think, Shawn, not just feel. This is your whole life we’re talking about. You know I can’t just fit into it. I would be catastrophic for you. Anyone could tell you that. Andrew would be first in line, I bet.”

Shawn stands. He walks to the door and stares at the rolling hills strung with vines like Christmas lights, neat strands growing darker with the night. He crosses his arms over his chest.

“If I let Andrew tell me who I can and can’t be with, my life isn’t mine. I’ve experienced something close enough to that this summer. I know I agreed to it, I know I was complicit in the whole thing, but I’m not interested in that anymore. If that’s where I really am in my life and my career, none of this is worth it. And that’s not even about you, Mia, that’s about me. I won’t put up with that. I’d sooner fucking quit and never play a show again if it meant I couldn’t be with someone I love because of however it looks to some people.”

Mia’s chest shudders. “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that. I can’t live with that, please.”

He whirls on his heel and stares at her, eyes hot. “Don’t say what? That I’d give it up for you if I had to? Fuck, Mia, of course I would. What kind of fucking human being would I be if I picked being famous over the person that I love?”

“Stop, please,” Mia begs, shaking her head, pressing her face into her hands.

She hears him shuffle over the stone to her. His fingers are gentle as they pry her hands off her face. He cups her wrists, massaging them slowly.

“Hey,” he whispers, the aggression in his voice gone as quickly as it came, “It doesn’t matter. That’s not our reality, it doesn’t have to be. I don’t have to make that choice, so neither do you.”

Mia’s lower lip quivers. “Shawn, I don’t think you realize what would really happen if you stood up in front of the whole world and told them you love a whore.”

Shawn releases her hands. The corners of his lips turn down. His eyes are hard and somehow cracked.

“Don’t do that. Don’t say that. I know you don’t even believe that. You’ve never thought of yourself like that, I know you haven’t. You know you’re so much more than that.” His voice grows louder as he continues until he’s shouting.

Her brow furrows. “You don’t know! You don’t know anything! The things I’ve done, the things I’ve said, the things I’ve had done to me. Shawn, if you had an inkling of the depraved… fuck. If you had any idea at all, you wouldn’t be saying this. You probably wouldn’t come near me ever again.”

“Are you trying to scare me?” he barks back, his eyebrows lifting, “Really? Fine. I’ll call that bluff. I’ll sit here with you all night if you want. Tell me everything. Every filthy detail. Sorry, Mia, it’s not that fucking easy. I won’t love you any less.”

“You can say that now! You don’t know, Shawn! You don’t even know me. What do you know? You know my dog, you know my music taste, sure, you know my name. What if everything Penny did was a lie? What if you love a ghost?”

Shawn goes cold. He stiffens all over. She watches it from his eyes down. She freezes in place.

“Don’t try to tell me I love something that isn’t real,” he breathes. There isn’t even a hint of uncertainty in his face or voice. Mia looks down at her feet.

Shawn steps forward again. Slowly, gently, he cups his hands around her neck, his thumbs working softly into her jaw.

“We can talk about image and PR and logistics. We can talk about Andrew and the headlines and the future. But don’t insult me, honey. I know what’s in front of me. I know what I love. I love you. I love you, I love you. We can talk about the rest, but we can’t talk about that. That’s real and it’s not up for discussion.”

Mia’s eyes close, pressing the building tears down her cheeks. Her head lowers in defeat. Shawn’s hands skim down her shoulders to her upper arms. He plants his lips on top of her head and breathes. Two deep inhales, two deep exhales. Then he steps away and heads back up the stairs.

+

Neither of them sleeps that night. He’s in the guest room down the hall from her master suite. At around 3am, she gives up altogether and sits out on her balcony under the crescent moon wrapped in a chenille blanket. She’s convinced that inside she can hear him breathe. 

Meanwhile he sits at the end of his bed, sheets half torn off from his tossing and turning, begging for words. He’s never had to beg before. His artistic, lyrical brain has handed them to him his whole life. Those aren’t the words he needs now. He needs the ones that will convince her.

+

When she wakes up, he’s downstairs in a t-shirt and boxers. His hair is sticking up everywhere. He’s staring hopelessly at her espresso machine. She knows he hears her come down the stairs, but he doesn’t turn around.

Silently, Mia arrives by his side. She presses a few buttons until the machine starts to whir. She reaches up to the cabinet above her and pulls down two tiny espresso cups. When she hands him one, their fingers touch. They both nearly jolt apart.

She spends the morning outside. She gets her white sundress filthy picking citrus off the trees. She hauls baskets and baskets full up to the porch. Each time she brings one up, it disappears and ends up on the counter, but she never sees Shawn move them.

At lunch, he smells more seafood. She glistens with sweat over a deep dutch oven full of hot oil, frying calamari. He slices lemons and opens the bottle of white she has on the counter, pouring them glasses. They eat silently, picking at their salads, letting Rosemary Clooney’s voice do their talking. When he finishes, Shawn looks at Mia. Mia looks up at Shawn. He takes her hand and guides it to his lips, a silent thank you. She lets him touch her for five seconds before she pulls away and heads back out to the lavender garden. When she comes back for dinner, the kitchen is clean and the fruit is stored in the butler’s pantry.

She roasts a chicken with rosemary and thyme, along with some potatoes and carrots and lets him rest his hand on her knee while they finish a bottle of wine.

“I found a guitar upstairs,” he confesses, chewing his wine-stained lower lip.

She glances over at him. “My grandfather’s. It’s old and shitty but yours to use if you want it.”

He nods appreciatively, rubbing his thumb into her warm skin. She aches to rest her fingers on his pulse, just to prove he’s really there.

That night, they clean up together. He walks her to her room and kisses her cheek. She doesn’t hear his footsteps walk away from her door for a long minute after she closes it.

His gentle plucking of the guitar from down the hall puts her to sleep.

+

She’s gone when Shawn wakes up. He lets himself panic for only a minute or two. All her stuff is still here, and this is her house, after all. She returns around lunch in an old pickup truck with bags from the market. Eggs, cream, cocoa, fresh mascarpone. She announces she’s making tiramisu for after their branzino dinner. She smiles a little, tentatively, and it nearly makes him fall at her feet.

Neither of them seems interested in disappearing today the way they did the day before. They hover near each other, rotating positions, swirling like opposing magnets. Shawn keeps the guitar close. Once he gets it in tune, it doesn’t sound too bad. He works on a melody. He thinks it must be good because she’s humming along in the kitchen while she prepares a batch of limoncello and rosemary gelato. 

(He doesn’t know what army she’s cooking for, but he just hopes he gets to be a part of it.)

He finishes the song that afternoon, pacing around the lavender garden with a sprig of it tucked behind his ear. When he’s satisfied and turns to head inside around sunset, he clocks her on a balcony above looking very settled, like she’s been there a while. She’s far enough up that she didn’t hear it, so she must’ve just been watching him.

They eat in silence -- branzino with lemon, citrus salad, arugula with balsamic, then tiramisu for dessert. They nearly finish two bottles of wine, like they’re both preparing to get mouthy. Shawn goes first.

“I think I knew when I bought the necklace. Like, I don’t know how I knew, but I knew. I knew what it would mean to you to have that. I wanted so badly to give you something as meaningful as what you’ve given me.”

Mia stiffens at the sudden conversation after a long drought. She recovers quickly, thanks to the wine.

“What I gave you was sex, Shawn. A lot of it. Really good sex that required you to make no decisions, gave you no responsibility. I took care of you in a way you’ve never been taken care of before.”

His eyes flash and Mia regrets her words immediately.

“If you really think I don’t know the difference between sex and love by now, you must think I’m a fucking moron.”

Mia’s chest deflates as she sighs. “I don’t think you’re a moron.”

“Are you sure? Because you’re treating me like one,” he jabs, draining his wine. She misses his heavy, warm hand on her knee when he stands and starts pacing back and forth in front of the table.

Mia stares at him, tensed with every word she won’t let herself say, every feeling she’s been beating back for months. Her spine aches. Her brain swims. Her mouth is dry.

Shawn stops suddenly so that his boot skids a little on the stone floor. Mia blinks quickly.

He stands in front of her, staring. Slowly, without moving his eyes from hers, he lowers to his knees, turning her in her seat to face him. Having his hands on her again makes her want to scream. She waits, holding her breath.

“I just need you to say it. Please. I know you don’t think it’s enough, so it can’t hurt, right? Because there’s a part of me, the piece I hate, the piece I’ve always hated and that’s always hated me that still wants to convince me it’s not true. So please, please, just once, just say it. Say it if it’s true.”

Mia’s knuckles are white as she grips her chair. They feel oddly detached and wiry when she pries them up, flexes them, and sieves them into his hair. His eyes shut. He lowers his head to rest in her lap. She takes a deep breath.

“I love you, Shawn Mendes.”

+

Mia’s on the counter in an oversized t-shirt, swinging her feet, eating limoncello and rosemary gelato out of the freezer bowl. Shawn stops at the bottom of the stairs and smiles at her. His love for her gets so big it feels ready to explode out of his ears.

He shuffles up to lean beside her at the counter with the extra spoon she offers. They eat quietly, smacking their lips.

“So what’s the charity project?”

He catches her off guard while she puts away the rest of the ice cream. She stands upright, a little too straight, then catches herself and forces herself to relax.

“Uhm… it’s an idea I had a long time ago. A non-profit sort of thing for La Splendeur. A way to look out for the girls that are working jobs like mine but on the street. It’s always seemed so arbitrary to me, you know? The women that wind up as courtesans making hundreds of thousands of dollars a year flying all around the world doing the same thing that women standing on street corners do, constantly putting their lives in danger. Sex work is so odd that way.”

Shawn nods thoughtfully. “How can you help them?”

He watches her brighten a little, scooping hair behind her ears as she explains.

“Resources make all the difference. Women like that end up there because they don’t have resources. We can provide shelter, safety, rehabilitation if necessary. We can start a scholarship fund. We can offer career counseling and interview practice and resume building. Or we can help them organize and stay safe so they don’t end up with pimps. They just need help, and money can provide a lot of that.”

He bobs his head, clearly interested. “So where does the money come from?”

“Philanthropists and investments. Between Silver and I, our network is pretty vast. A lot of the donors will likely prefer to remain anonymous because of the nature of it, but we only need a couple powerful people that would speak up and draw attention. If they say it’s ok to care, it’s ok to care. Julia Granger and Christian Becker could be those people.”

Shawn cracks a smile. “So where are you in all this?”

Mia smiles back, infected by the pride written all over his face. “Silver and I are finalizing the paperwork for the creation of the non-profit. We’ll start approaching investors formally when I get home.”

Shawn ducks his head, turning his enormous, goofy smile down at his feet. “That’s incredible, Mia.”

His voice is gentle, touched. She tingles all over. She wants to run into his arms just to feel them around her again. She locks her own around her chest instead.

“Th-thank you. It’s been a long time coming.”

They lock eyes again. The air sizzles.

Mia smiles sadly. The silence is pregnant with potential headlines written about the Canadian golden boy loving the whore who wants to help the whores. Shawn scrabbles for words to fight them off but comes up choked and huffing breath.

He watches her disappear outside, heading for the vineyard.

+

The bottoms of Mia’s feet are nearly black. She takes a sick sort of pleasure in it. It makes her feel like a kid again, she guesses. Reminds her of chasing Peter around the gazebo, skinning knees, playing “scuba divers” in the pool while their family ate and drank and sang, happier in Ravello than they ever were in New Jersey.

She sits on the swing beneath the pergola, listening to him sing now. The house is so much quieter than it used to be, but no less filled with love. It’s a different kind of love. And despite their desperation to beat it away, it gets stronger every second. Shawn is the strong one, the brave one, she thinks, letting it into his heart before she could. 

Because it’s not like he’s not scared. She knows he is. She can hear it in his voice and see it in the way he holds himself around her. He can’t know what would happen if they made it real -- could they last? Could they manage to see past all the bullshit the papers would surely print and hold on? If they did, would their love be worth anything after all the bulletholes and sharp words?

She hugs her knees to her chest and closes her eyes, leaning into his melody. She has the song memorized now. He keeps playing it the same way like he’s planning on changing something but never does. She already knows it’s perfect.

It’s a love song about tortured yearning, a hidden love, a love that’s bursting, searching for the sunlight. Mia thinks it’s his best ever. She considers herself biased.

After the sun sets, she heads inside. He’s not really playing anymore, just kind of plucking away. She needs to think about getting dinner ready. He’s sweet, offering to cook, since she does so much of it, but she really loves cooking Italian food with Italian ingredients in Italy and won’t think of wasting an opportunity. Plus, she still loves taking care of him.

The stairs to the wine cellar are cool, worn stone. The cellar is built into the foundation of the house, which was once part of a fortress that stood on their property in the 11th century. Now lined with shelves of hundreds of bottles of every variety of Italian wine, it’s one of Mia’s favorite spots.

His footsteps are quiet, too. He’s adopted her barefoot lifestyle. He stops at the bottom of the stairs.

Facing the wall of dolcettos from the 80s, Mia twirls a finger around a protruding bottle, covered in dust, with a foil cap.

“I used to hide down here when Peter and I played hide and seek. For some reason he never thought to look down here. I always thought it was so obvious.”

Shawn steps closer, hands in the pockets of his jeans, shoulders slightly hunched.

“Maybe he wanted to let you win.”

Mia smirks, looking over her shoulder at him. “Maybe.”

She turns, her arms crossed behind her back, leaning against a shelf. He fixes his eyes on hers, biting the inside of his lip.

“I’m not… I mean, I’m not saying it would be easy,” Shawn murmurs, rubbing at the back of his sunburnt neck, “I know better than anyone how it all works. I don’t want you to think I’m just ready to throw us both to the wolves. I wouldn’t do that to you or to us. I just want to talk about it, for real. I… I know we’re worth it, honey.”

Mia’s chest inflates. She tilts her eyes up at the low ceiling. Her tears start hot and fast.

“I could be the thing that ruins everything you worked so hard for. I don’t want that for either of us. I’m not sorry about who I am or what I’ve done, despite what I’ve said. But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to be ripped apart publicly for it. That kind of attention puts more pressure on a relationship than either of us is really prepared for. You have to know that.”

Shawn nods slowly. “I do. I know. I don’t want that for you or for me. But I don’t think that’s the only outcome possible. I think this would take a lot of thought and discussion about what we’re both comfortable with. And it’s going to take some of both of us… letting go a little. Which I know isn’t your favorite thing.” He looks at her pointedly, the corner of his mouth lifting.

Mia chuckles for the first time in days. “Point taken.”

Shawn senses cracks in the veneer with the way she’s looking at him now, like she actually might be considering it, all of it. For him. With him.

He takes a chance, and takes her hand.

“And the most important thing is we go at our own pace. We… I mean, obviously, we’ve done and seen a lot already. And I know I have so much left to learn about you. We can focus on that first, just getting to know each other more. I know how to make a relationship really loud, but I know how to keep it quiet, too. If that’s what you want.”

She looks down at their entwined fingers. She blinks quickly and feels her heart rate pick up, like her body knows something her mind hasn’t decided yet. She swallows and looks back up at him.

“I’ve never been both Penny and Mia with one person before. Because I know I am both. Penny’s as much a part of me as Mia is. I got good at letting them share my body because they never inhabited it at the same time. I’m still trying to figure out how that’s supposed to work. How I’m going to be caretaker and businesswoman, domme and girlfriend. I don’t know how to be someone who wants to be honest and upfront about my history and also wants a big white wedding and a couple kids. So if I don’t know how to do that, be that, how can you know and love that about me?”

Shawn’s smile is cautious but warm. He scoops up her other hand and cradles them close to his chest. He’s not afraid of showing her how his heart is clanging around in his chest. She’s had a piece of it in her body for a while now.

“Because it’s you, Mi. Whether or not you’ve meant to, you’ve let me know both. I’ve loved both this whole time. I just want the chance to be there with you as you figure it out.”

Mia looks up at him. She thinks about the night they met -- watching him come completely undone, taking a sip from his glass, waking up to see him slam his eyes shut to pretend he wasn’t watching her. She sees the same look of wonder in his eyes now as he looks down at her, all of her. Mia always knew she was worth loving. Having someone else figure that out was always the part she wasn’t sure of. But she’s sure now. He is, too.

Mia pulls her hands from his, sliding them up his chest. She plucks at the curls at the back of his neck, tugging him closer as she presses back against the shelf. Shawn’s breath hitches in his chest. His hands fall to her hips.

Mia nods, no words of protest left. His lips are gentle against hers, confident and calm. She lets him take the lead this time.

--------------

Grazie mille 💜

Taglist: @smallerinfinities @the-claire-bitch-project @achinglyshawn @infiniteshawn @mendesoft @singanddreamanyway @alone-in-madness @abigfatmess @shawnitsmutual @awkwardfangirl2014 @september-lace @sinplisticshawn @rollingxstone @yslsaint @randi-eve @fallmoreinlove @heyits-claire @itrocksmysocks @parkerspicedlatte @simpledomain @abeautiful-and-cloudy-day @thecurlsofgod @magcon7280 @bensbuttercup @shawnsmusical @paigeasourous @tell-me-when-ur-ready @softmendesss @searchingunderthestars @buggy-blogs @mendesficsxbombay @tnhmblive @greedydevil @tamegray @meltingicequeen @havethetimeeofyourlifee @normalcyisoverrated-beyou @t-i-n-y-d-i-n-o @hannahlouiseee @sarahlauramendes @shawnsmoose @mendezlatte @1dbetch @graysonmendes @shawnsababe @ineffsi @ultradreamologistblog @bluerose711 @sauveteen @valedictorian65 @cleocc @ly--canthrope

[i-was-today-years-old-when]

i found out that a music teacher, Frano Selak, who was dubbed the world's luckiest man after cheating death seven times before winning the lottery has now decided to give away his fortune. (x)

Below are the 7 times he escaped death before winning the lottery in 2010:

He had his first escape in 1962 when a train he was travelling on from Sarajevo to Dubrovnik jumped the rails and plunged into an icy river. Seventeen people drowned and he barely made it to the riverbank after suffering from hypothermia, shock, bruises and a broken arm.

A year later, he was thrown out of a plane on his first and only flight when a door flew open. This time 19 people died but he was thrown clear of the crash and landed in a haystack.

Then in 1966, a bus he was on skidded into a river, drowning four. He swam to safety with just cuts and bruises.

Accident number four came in 1970 when his car caught fire as he drove along a motorway and he fled with seconds to spare before the fuel tank exploded.

Three years later, he lost most of his hair when a faulty fuel pump spewed petrol over the hot engine of his car and blew flames through the air vents.

Then in 1995 came his sixth accident when he was knocked down by a bus in Zagreb but walked away with minor injuries.

The following year, he was driving in the mountains when he turned a corner to see a UN truck coming straight for him. His Skoda careered through a crash barrier and over the 300ft precipice. But he leapt clear at the last minute and sat in a tree as he watched his car hit the bottom and explode.

He then won £600,000 with his first ever lottery ticket and celebrated his fifth marriage saying: "I guess all the earlier marriages were disasters too."

[blacksurvivalnostalgichanges]

Black Survival characters as RTgame quotes

i have a new way to fill a day when i don’t know what headcanon i could use:special posts

~

Adela: (Check) There’s a check. Keep popping them in check. (Check) (Check) (Check) 

Adriana: Radical has taken the burgle land really to heart and he’s just setting fire to the forest.

Alex: Hey bro you want some tequila? (yeets tequila bottle at a guy)

Arda:(writes down “Mom i’m sorry”) Good start.

Aya: You cant escape the law! I have the ability to teleport! Don’t make me finger gun you!

Barbara: Well, that was a fast midlife crisis. Happy birthday! Midlife Crisis time!

Bernice: (holds a guy’s face) Ned, I... never said this, but sometimes when I look into your eyes- NO, DON’T, COME BACK HERE-

Bianca: These are all, just, like, weird planet names. Like, Zoton, Cropin, Cragos. Draarendy...? Perotex, m- (laughs) wait, WAIT WAIT- Wait that was just the poor man’s Mars, come on. That last one was just Mares. Could you name all the planets in the solar system? Oh we got earth, venus, saturn, Mares- (written in 10/7 so we’ll see how this ages once bianca gets released, maybe she won’t be the same gimmick as jackie)

Camilo: “It’s just, all those years ago... It was so hard-” Oh no. “I didn’t know how to raise Sarah alone.” Hey ned, let’s do some more dancing! (dances) Doooo doo doo do doo dododo! Haa haa haaa!

Cathy: ‘S a little bit pricy, but fuck it! I don’t know how to play Monopoly, let’s go!

Chiara: “This is the man in question, Edward Romsey. A teacher once, would you believe?” But then he forgot to buy Dosney related products.

Daniel: “Barbara just discovered how to make a Grim Reaper Snowman”... (looks at snowman with a black cape and a scythe) Oh Gooood.

Echion: (fuckboy voice) They call it... The Fortnite, the new violent shooter from Epic Games Studios that kids are dropping out of school to play.

Eleven: I made the smoothie! I made the smoothie! (car crashes)

Eva: Heart’s desires... (reading out options, starts laughing) “to be tall”!

Emma: (petting the side of someone’s head) Stroke him gently.

Fiora: Now remember your training, guys, big circle-shape swings, okay, you wanna try to get a figure A motion, okay? If you remember that, nothing will go wrong in an actual fight. And remember to have fun, it’s an important part of the experiment. (whacks everyone in a row in a few seconds) Who’s next?

Hart: (playing guitar) I call this little ditty Wonderwall. You may not have heard it before.

Hyejin: You’re supposed to click evacuate BEFORE the disaster happens!

Hyunwoo: What could a dog have possibly done to go to jail?!

Isol: Can I take your handgun? This loaded? ....Pal, do you have any ammo? I’m trying to fire this handgun in your store. I’m gonna take this with me, thank you.

Jackie: Oh no, not this again. We did this two years ago, I’m not doing it again! -It’s happening again. I thought I was finished playing Groundhog Day!

Jan: This man unironically says epic, I don’t know if we can trust him.

Jenny: Are there any controls I might have? (the plane starts going down) Oh, B just stalls the engine.

JP: Thanks to VR, I can now be more gay than normal.

Lenox: I’m trying to do big brain plays here, but I’m not a smart woman!

Leon: We have seven thousand viewers for Wii Sports, and we’re top ten on Twitch- wh- why are people here-

Li Dailin: You know how in like, the third Harry Potter, the night’s bus takes Harry to Hogwarts? Like, the leaky cauldron, and... you’re not really sure how he’s dodging all these cars?

Luke: I’ll be, like, sleeping tonight, i’ll be waking up in a cold sweat, and be like “Good air!” His soul has been trapped in Wii Sports since 2009, he hasn’t been able to leave this game. ‘I wonder if the voice actor talks like this in real life as well’. Could you just imagine if he has a wife and kids, and the trainer’s like... (enthusiastically) ‘Good morning!’ ‘Darling, it’s-it’s been like nine years since Wii Sports Resort voiceover.’ ‘I know, right?’ ‘Like, you have to talk like a normal human being again! You can’t just keep putting the family through this!’ ‘Nice air!’ ‘WE’VE TALKED ABOUT THIS! WE’RE NOT IN THE AIR!’

Magnus: (somehow breaks glass by grabbing it) My hands are bleeding terribly.

Mai: “Alice, I want to speak to your manager.” Dude, it’s just coffee. It’s just coffee. ....He’s a karen, isn’t he? (points at him) You’re a karen.

Nadine: (shoots at the bullseye) I’m already a pro. Look at that. Watch me get it again. (shoots at the bullseye again)

Nathapon: (writes down ‘hi my name is Oole’) Always important to put your name on your notebook. You know, just in case you lose it.

Nicky: (swinging wii remote wildly towards mii) Why won’t... you die?! (game starts) Oh that was practice-

Rio: Do you wanna be that guy who reads everything on Wikipedia? Play this game.

Rosalio: Oh jesus- oh, I didn’t expect for there to be consequences-

Rozzi: (jumping off a plane with a parashoot, people start locking hands with the avatar) Lose ‘em, lose ‘em! (shakes wildly to get them away) Get ‘em off me! Get ‘em off me!

Shoichi: ‘Ey Daithi, how much would it cost for me to buy that off ya?’ ‘Uh, one thousand, one hundred and forty- (amount of money changes) Oh sorry, just changed! One thousand, one hundred and twenty nine.’ ‘You’re gonna leave me with a dollar.’ ‘Yep.’

Silvia: (Picks up a gun) Is it loaded? (points it at herself and pulls the trigger repeatedly) Doesn’t appear to be.

Sissela: “Pulmonary oedema”... I can’t even pronounce it, that sounds really bad.

Sua: Oh my god, bless his heart. Ross Bob just came back from the dead to feed the cat. He’s actually the sweetest man alive. 

William: They all keep saying “I’d love to stick around but I gotta go”. They don’t- they don’t have a say in this

Xiukai: Why did the donut cause me to hallucinate so badly??

Yuki: “Fix everything and leave”. I need that button IRL. Fix everything and leave.

Zahir: (accidentally drops glass) I appear to be struggling. (looks around and grabs a tiny drink umbrella) Would you like an umbrella?

[gamechangeroo]

Part 3/3

Click to read the Prologue and Chapter 1 first.

Chapter 2: Whether You Are Under or Over Them, Tables Are Places of Conversation

Gintoki woke up to a table crashing through the divider between his bedroom and the Yorozuya den. It was a loud enough projectile that he almost arrived in the waking world fast enough to dodge it.

Almost.

Instead, it startled him upright in time for him to feel the full brunt of the pain as the edge of the table crashed into his quadriceps, and the face flung forward to smack his torso.

He ended up sprawled on the ground, pancaked beneath it in a drowsy haze of achy irritation, listening to the annoying screams of idiotic children coming from the next room.

“How dare you barge into a lady’s home at this hour?!”

“Did I interrupt naptime, little girl?”

“How about you go to hell, sadist!”

Crushed into the floor, Gintoki swiveled his head to stare at his miraculously unharmed Justaway clock flashing merrily away mere centimeters from the table’s edge. The hour hand was smack dab on the three, which meant he had only been home for two hours before the bastard beagles had sniffed him out. Damn.

He sunk deep into the furthest depths of his drowsy brain to poke at parasite-kun with a mental stick. This is your fault, asswipe!

As it had done since ‘the convenience store incident,’ the thing wholly ignored him, hiding in the metaphysical plane where sadistic cops could not bring handcuffs and arrest warrants. Lucky it.

Back in the annoyingly physical world, Gintoki heaved the table off of his abused chest with a short grunt, and shuffled out into the firing zone. There he found Kagura being dragged across the floor by her unbound hair courtesy of a disheveled Sougo, whose forehead was bleeding rather copiously. Most importantly, however, the table that usually rested in the center of the room between two couches was conspicuously missing.

“Danna,” Sougo greeted, spraying flecks of blood from his lips as he spoke.

“Tax thief,” Gintoki returned, scratching the skin that lay just below the elastic of his boxers. “What brings you to my humble abode?”

“We have your sword at the station,” Sougo said, barely dodging a fist Kagura sent at his jaw. “How about you come with me to pick it up?”

“Nice try,” Gintoki shot back. “My sword is right here.”

He waved a hand toward the innocent, wooden sword lying next to the upended table on his futon in the other room. He had taken to buying his Lake Touya in bulk these days, which was a particularly great strategy for times like these when he needed his next one quick.

“I see,” Sougo assented. “In that case, why don’t we just go for a drive? There’s a cool new sweets shop that just opened near the Shinsengumi barracks that I know you would really like. My treat.”

He had to give it to the kid; Sougo had returned his suspect claim with one of equal bullshit. Actually, Gintoki didn’t have to give him anything at this hour of the morning. He settled on staring the intruder down dully.

However, Kagura was still short enough so that these sorts of lies flew over her head, and she instead used the opportunity to scoff and sneer at her opponent.

“Too little too late, sucker. Team Yorozuya is already getting some sugar from a different daddy.”

Sougo looked curiously between Gintoki and the girl who was trying to stab his left eye with a chopstick, uttering a simple, “Oh?”

This little alien child was far too gullible, and far too willing to share their shady Amanto food deals with government dogs, who might find ways to take the parfait train away!

Grinning wide, Gintoki quickly started doing damage control: “Yup! We landed a fat cat client, who throws money at his problems until they go away. Or, rather, throws money at us until we fix them. By them I mean poodles, and by fix I mean not shitting on his sofa.”

After only a half second of confusion, Kagura nodded, playing along, “That’s right! We’re training a fat cat to shit money on us!”

That’s not… not off base. It would have to do.

It did not do though. The brat obviously was not drinking their Kool-Aid. He opened his mouth, looking like he was about to ask more seemingly-innocuous questions that were actually terribly insightful traps, when Kagura’s foot met his face with frightening speed, and Sougo, like the table earlier, flew across the apartment and crashed through a door – their front door this time.

Executing her version of damage control, Kagura gave Gintoki a cheerful thumbs-up, as if to say, I got this.

Well, Sougo was not drilling for state secrets anymore now that his head was busy drilling into their door. It would have to do.

After giving the victorious girl a half-assed head pat, Gintoki took a moment to put on some pants, a shirt, and his yukata, before dragging Sougo out of the hole his body had made in their entranceway. The bloodied and likely concussed officer nodded shortly in thanks, as he staggered out of the house, Gintoki in tow.

“I appreciate your cooperation, Danna,” Sougo said, opening the back door of the police car for him.

“What better way to show that I’m an upstanding citizen who would not even consider breaking the law? I would never impede the grand process of Justice,” Gintoki quipped, waving to Kagura as she flapped her arm lazily back at him from the balcony, seeing him off.

“You’d better bring me back some good stuff, Gin-chan,” she hollered.

Gintoki had no idea if there existed any food in Edo that even came close to the godly succulence that came out of the ovens in the Foryunthustoriphyxnarfyndalvnuduraqiualinoytfusian embassy, so this was a rather tall order now that her standards were so high. Maybe the imaginary sweets shop next to the Shinsengumi headquarters would exceed his expectations.

...

Kondo Isao stared down one fish-eyed Sakata Gintoki from across the black, square interrogation table. A dim, flickering lamp swayed back and forth above them, shadowing the hollows, crevasses, and scars on both faces, showing each man the light and darkness of the warrior in front of him. These two figures alone in this arid, windowless room painted a severe, powerful image.

With a harrumph, the leader of the Shinsengumi folded his arms in front of him, and said, “Now, when it comes to the sword ban in Edo, we normally turn you a blind eye. The good you have done not just for the government, but for the whole city, isn’t something any of us here will be soon inclined to forget.”

Gintoki’s expression remained unchanged. “But,” he prompted.

A firm smile was there and gone on his lips in half a moment before Kondo continued, “But. When you start using Laser Swords, heads higher up than us start to take notice. If we don’t do something to reprimand you, it could be our jobs on the line.”

“Laser Swords?” Gintoki asked incredulously, the mood in the room changing suddenly from solemn to just… strange.

“Well, what do you call it?” Kondo returned, leaning forward in his chair and looking somewhat eager. “We had a bit of a poll here in the office to decide what to put on reports, and Laser Sword won, though Disco Stick was a close second.”

“I wouldn’t call the Disco Stick anything, because I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Gintoki replied obstinately, and crossed his feet on the table, rubbing the edges of the dirty soles against the clean, cold metal. “I am being brought in on false, unsubstantiated charges.”

Kondo nodded calmly before turning around to face the interrogation room’s one way mirror, cupping his hands, and yelling at his own reflection, “Oi, Yamazaki! Write down another vote for Disco Stick!”

After staring intensely into his own eyes for a few moments, Kondo turned back to Gintoki, looking satisfied that his request had been done.

“There is a lot of compelling evidence piling up, Danna,” Kondo resumed. “We have two eye-witnesses claiming a white-haired, permy samurai cleaved a convenience store in half with the wooden sword that we found at the scene. This is the same sword many of us have felt the brunt of at one time or another. We know what your weapon looks like.”

“What a terrible conspiracy theory,” Gintoki drawled and yawned outwardly, while steaming internally.

Two eyewitnesses? Who else could they be, but the cashier and Robber #1, and how dare they team up against him – particularly that cashier! That convenience store worker was working with the man who was about to slit his throat for money to throw the man who saved him from said man under a bus! Thankless bastard!

“Kondo-san, you know my weapon, and you know that it is no Disco Stick. Are you sure your pair of witnesses weren’t flying high on a little illegal disco of their own?”

Take that, cashier! We’ll see who is taking who down by the end of all this!

Now Gintoki was not just a rebel; he also had a cause. For each question Kondo asked him, he had an answer to give that undermined the reputation of a certain someone.

Where was he this evening at midnight? Well, human beings are notoriously terribly at remembering precisely what they were doing and when they were doing it. Everyone rewrites their own history in their own minds to make themselves out as better. We are useless witnesses, us humans. Didn’t you know, Gori-san?

Did he stop at a convenience store this evening? Well, convenience stores in Japan have been going downhill these days. Rumor has it the main chains like Eight-Twelve have been hiring felons to man their registers to cut costs, and not the mild sort of felon that ended up in the slammer because the slipped on a banana peel and bonked heads with a high-flying government leader. No, they’re hiring the sorts of felons that slipped on a banana peels and pushed a high-flying government leader to the ground in order to keep their balance. Terrible, dangerous thugs. Didn’t you know, Gori-san?

Yes, but, did he stop at a convenience store this evening? Well, they are called convenience stores, but they are not convenient at all. It is a well-documented fact that convenience store employees are trained to make customers feel inconvenienced and uncomfortable, because the more down in the dumps they are, the more likely they are to purchase the comfort food lining the aisles! Didn’t you know, Gori-san?

“Enough with the Gori-san!” Kondo finally snapped, successfully diverted from the line of inquiry, as Yamazaki burst through the door.

“The result just came in,” Yamazaki announced with all the gravitas his plain visage could muster, carrying a slip of paper to Kondo’s side. “Here it is, Chief Gori-san.”

“We are conducting a serious investigation, and all anyone can do is crack gorilla jokes?” Kondo scolded, holding the paper in front of his face to hide a shamed flush that colored his cheeks. The teasing was totally getting to him. “I am severely disappointed.”

Thoroughly chastened, the everyman in uniform apologized, before skittering out of the room. With this little show of leadership, the gorilla seemed to get a bit of his groove back, and summarily began scanning the paper under Gintoki’s dull-eyed stare.

As he watched the Shinsengumi leader’s eyes swing back and forth like a beady typewriter, Gintoki bounced a leg impatiently beneath the table.

Just what evidence had they pulled on him? It better not be too incriminating, because he needed out of this government-sanctioned dungeon that smelled like each member of this stupid sword-club rubbed their armpits on the walls after they worked up a sweat arresting innocent men and women every night. It was about time for his pre-breakfast breakfast at the Foryunthustoriphyxnarfyndalvnuduraqiualinoytfusian embassy, oi.

At long last, Kondo finally glanced up, cleared his throat, and regarded Gintoki with a firm gaze.

“It is all here,” he said.  “This makes things very clear.”

There was decisive evidence?! Shit. Gintoki waited with baited breath.

“What you’ve done tonight comes with serious consequences,” Kondo warned – his expression severe. “You have swayed many of my men. The voting majority is now in favor of Disco Stick.”

It was Gintoki’s turn to fling a table.

“WHO CARES ABOUT THE NAME!”

Twitching beneath the flung projectile, Kondo coughed, “You say that as a winner, but would you still be whistling that tune from my shoes? I lobbied for Cumming Wood with all I had.”

Gintoki was not necessarily proud of what he was about to do, but his blood sugar levels were low. Anything that would get his mouth near a parfait sooner was on the table, or, in this case, underneath it. With a sigh, he lifted one side of the table, and crawled next to Kondo before placing the table softly on top of both of them.

From his place on the floor, the gorilla stared at him with a quizzical expression that was somewhat prolate due to the table crushing his face. Gintoki scooched toward the befuddled commander and whispered in his ear, “Just how much does Cumming Wood mean to you?”

Kondo’s face tensed, as he started to catch on. In a low voice, he returned, “What… what do you mean?”

Well versed in these sorts of negotiations, Gintoki knew what Kondo was actually asking: What do you want for it?

Gently, so as not to spook his prey, Gintoki murmured, “I mean, if you were to let me go now, and let these underlings of yours know, as you and I do, that I had nothing to do with any of this, I might be able to convince those guys to do a recall vote.”

“A re-recall vote?” Kondo repeated, entranced. He scooted closer to Gintoki, causing a table leg to clang loudly against the nearby wall, as the base wobbled on top of them both.

“Cumming Wood is a great play on words. They obviously haven’t thought about it hard enough, so they just need some time to… reconsider,” Gintoki proposed casually.

Kondo’s face almost could not contain his wide smile, as he slipped deeper and deeper into Gintoki’s web. “It is a great pun, isn’t it!”

“Yes,” Gintoki affirmed – his voice soft, but commanding. “I could help your men realize that they made a terrible mistake. Really, we’ve all just made mistakes here. You guys didn’t vote for Cumming Wood, you guys brought in the wrong man. If we all own up to these errors, we could all get exactly-”

“What the hell?”

Dammit!

“Toshi!” Kondo screamed like a man who had just been sucker punched by his own self-respect. He pushed the table off of both of them in a flash, wrapping his arms around his own body, as if to cover up his misdeeds. “This isn’t what it looks like!”

“No, but I don’t actually know what it looks like.”

One Demon Vice-Commander stood in the doorway of the room, his expression a grand mixture of frustrated discomfort and all-consuming confusion, looking like he would rather be absolutely anywhere else. If Gintoki had offered him a choice between continuing to stand right there, and doing the backstroke in a pile of Saduharu’s diarrhea a few kilometers out from this spot, Gintoki honestly did not know which the guy might have picked.

“Hijikata-kun,” he greeted jovially enough from his spot on the floor next to Kondo’s interpretation of ‘A Deflowered Maiden is Greeted by Her Father.’

If this asshole’s existence had to ruin his chances at bribing his way out of here, Gintoki’s existence might as well serve to cause Hijikata some mental agony. He waved his fingers impishly.

To his credit, Hijikata appeared to regain his mental footing rather quickly. It only took a few seconds for his expression to change from DEFCON(STIPATION) 1 to neutral, as he strode quickly to Kondo’s side.

“Kondo-san, the results from Squads 5 and 8 just came through,” he reported, blatantly ignoring his superior’s shamed position on the floor. “I would recommend we discuss them outside.”

Staggering to his feet, Kondo grimaced and shook his head, muttering, “No, that won’t be necessary.”

The gorilla put a hairy-knuckled hand on his Vice-Chief’s shoulder, and squeezed it lightly. He continued, “I… I have been compromised. You’ll need to take over the investigation from here.”

“Huh?” Hijikata had the decency to look halfway alarmed, as he glanced between Gintoki and Kondo. “What did he do?”

Kondo waved off Hijikata’s concern with a sad, distant smile – his eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “He… he used Cumming Wood against me.”

Immediately, Hijikata’s expression shuttered, and he pushed a sniffling gorilla toward the exit.

“No need to worry. I’ll take it from here,” he said, firmly slamming the door on his superior before the man could say another word.

The room fell into an incredibly heavy silence. Hijikata stood stiffly with his hands still on the door he had shut, while Gintoki eyed him from his spot on the floor. He watched the tense back of a man that knew he had to follow Cumming Wood, and Gintoki realized he had a decision to make. Did he want to get out of this Shinsengumi hell hole sooner than later, which meant playing nice with this police dog whose leash was a little too long for his short temper? Or, would it be more satisfying to kick this mutt while it’s down and rot in jail forever?

Neither! Neither is good! Is there any option where Gin-san can escape while kicking the dog?

He heard the flick of a cigarette lighter, as Hijikata turned to face him. Gintoki gave his most surly expression in response to the man’s sharp gaze, but did not speak. He was using inhuman amounts of self-restraint right now, which the world should recognize and justly reward!

After another eon of quiet, Hijikata stepped over the upended table and strode over to the one chair remaining upright, sitting where Gin-san’s butt had been only minutes before. Gintoki took this as a victory, and sneered.

Catching the sneer, but not the meaning, Hijikata let out a put-upon sigh.

Finally breaking the silence, he said, “I suppose now is as good of a time as any.”

“Huh?” Gintoki snorted, as sparking hostility gave way to confusion. That was not really the opener that he was expecting.

Giving him a long, assessing look, the Shinsengumi devil uttered, “You’re an idiot.”

Finally in familiar territory, Gintoki welcomed this insult as a declaration of war.

“Says the man who follows the orders of Commander Cumming Wood!”

“Shut it!” Hijikata bristled. “You leave Kondo-san out of this!”

“I’ll leave him out of it if you jackasses leave me out of it!” Gintoki yelled indignantly, as he scrambled to his feet. He was feeling the urge to tower over his opponent.

By the red splotches creeping across his face, Hijikata looked about ready to rise to the bait himself, but settled for blowing an aggressive puff of smoke in Gintoki’s direction, which, where this guy was concerned, was a pretty lukewarm shot to fire. Mr. Mayo was holding himself back. Maybe it had to do with how there were probably half a dozen or so Shinsengumi ducklings watching his performance through that one way mirror, or maybe he realized he needed to take a shit when he entered the room and now he was stuck here, or maybe Gintoki didn’t really care enough to guess. All he knew was that he had spotted a weak point, and there was no way he wasn’t about to exploit it. Gintoki walked toward the man with heavy steps.

“There wouldn’t be a situation to leave you out of if you a– wait, what are you-”

The bastard paused mid-sanctimonious speech, shock paling his face, as Gintoki lifted the cigarette from Hijikata’s lips, put it between his own, and inhaled.

Jutting out his jaw in a show of dominance, smoke leaking through his nostrils, Gintoki hissed, “You take my freedom? I take your cigarette.”

All at once, Hijikata’s face lost all traces of humanity, leaving only a beast out for blood. Gintoki sneered in victory and prepared to parry any attack this hot tempered loser would try to throw his way.

However, just as soon as his temper had flashed, Hijikata slammed a lid on it. The only signs of its existence now rested in his hands, which were gripping his uniformed thighs so tight that he might have been close to bruising his own bones.

“Yorozuya,” he hissed, sounding like a viper with a sore throat. “Stop acting like a child and listen to me.”

Who wanted this stupid cop’s olive branches if he was going to give them out covered in demeaning insults? Gintoki knew just where this asshole could shove his pathetic attempts at half-assed anger management.

Taking another drag from the cigarette, Gintoki threw it lazily to the ground, stomping it to ash with his boot.

“That one tasted like secondhand shitty cop. Gimme another,” he demanded in as derisively provocative of a tone as he could manage, gesturing toward the rectangular bump in Hijikata’s uniformed pocket.

Hijikata pupils were so dilated by this point that his irises were completely consumed by black. The atmosphere around him vibrated like the air above summertime pavement dances and shimmers on the hottest days of the year. Gintoki blatantly ignored the warning signs and reached out to pick the prick’s pocket.

The tips of Gintoki’s fingers brushed the box and lighter, before pinching their edges and lifting them. He rummaged about in the package, taking out a cigarette, and began showily flicking the lighter.

Hijikata’s lips cracked into a crooked, cutting smile.

“Okay,” he said. “You win.”

...

Lounging about on the cold, stone floor of the Shinsengumi holding cell, Gintoki ignored any regrets that came to visit, while also doing his best to ignore the real world smells of piss and human suffering that emanated from his immediate vicinity. There really wasn’t any way this terrible fate could have been avoided. Hijikata might as well have ordered Gintoki to snatch his cigs at sword point, considering how coerced this hapless citizen had been into committing this non-crime.

Speaking of non-crimes, just how long could these shitty excuses for cops keep him here for rustling the jimmies of their commanding officers? Gintoki let this question echo throughout his mind to make sure that his friendly, neighborhood brain parasite heard about the unfair dilemma its host was being put through. However, to his complaints, the indignant prisoner received no response inside his head or out.

[missmentelle]

How do homeless people get out of being homeless?

It very much depends on the situation. There are roughly as many ways to escape homelessness as there are to end up homeless in the first place, and how one particular individual climbs out of homelessness has a lot to do with their social connections, financial situation, mental state, physical health, age, skills, and a host of other factors. Oftentimes, there are a few things that need to come together before a person can secure permanent housing for themselves. In general, though, some of the big ways that people escape homelessness include:

Assistance from family and friends. Contrary to popular belief, the vast majority of homeless people do have non-homeless family and friends who care about them, and they are one of the best resources out there for escaping homelessness. People usually resist turning to their loved ones for help in the early days of homelessness, and may hide their situation for as long as they can to avoid embarrassment. If you’re newly homeless or experiencing short-term homelessness, however, your family and friends are your best ticket out of your situation - they may be able to give you a warm, safe, clean place to crash while you try to figure things out; your friends may be able to lend you the money you need for that bus or plane ticket to go home to live at your parents’ house; friends and family may be willing to spot you the money you need for a security deposit and first/last month’s rent, so you can get into a new place without having to wait to build up your savings; they may have connections to job opportunities, and they may be willing to co-sign on a lease or loan so you can get into housing or educational opportunities. If you are homeless or in danger of becoming homeless and your loved ones aren’t aware of your situation, let them know as soon as possible, even if it’s embarrassing - people who care about you are your best resource for dealing with your situation.

Improving their employment situation. Many people in this country live paycheck-to-paycheck and have very few savings; a small blip in employment (layoff, fired, hours cut, contract not renewed, illness, injury, etc) can be all it takes to make someone homeless. Around 40-60% of homeless people have jobs, but don’t have jobs that are stable or lucrative enough to let them afford housing. For these people, the main route out of homelessness is finding a job, or finding a better, higher-paying job. Some people are able to do this quite quickly - they may have marketable skills and good experience, and ending up homeless is largely a case of bad luck. They may be able to find a good job within a few weeks of losing their old one, and get back on their feet quickly. Other people may not have many marketable skills, or they may have other factors that make make finding a job tough (employment gaps, criminal record, did not complete secondary school, etc) - and it may take more time and effort for them to find a job that lets them afford housing. 

Enrolling in social welfare programs. Many people like to moan and groan about “welfare queens” and “freeloaders” accessing social programs they don’t qualify for, but the reality of the situation is that there are way, way more people avoiding social programs they are eligible for than there are people committing fraud. One quarter of Americans who qualify for food stamps (now called SNAP) do not apply; among seniors, a full 40% who qualify don’t apply. Many people of the people who end up homeless either don’t realize they can get public assistance, or they are intentionally avoiding public assistance because of personal pride or social stigma - and the way to get out of homelessness can often involve enrolling in those programs. Enrolling in disability or unemployment benefits, seeking assistance from food stamps or food banks, enrolling in back-to-work programs that provide connections, assistance and training for job searches and getting on waiting lists for affordable, low-income housing can be necessary steps for getting a person off the streets. 

Addressing mental health and addiction issues. For people who experience more complex, long-term or recurring homeless, two of the big problems are generally addiction and mental health problems. These often go hand-in-hand - people who have mental health issues and don’t have access to treatment often self-medicate with street drugs, which only worsens the mental health issues, and a vicious cycle begins. Having issues with mental health or addiction can make it nearly impossible to maintain stable employment, manage money, or meet the conditions of your housing - and so escaping homelessness generally means that you need to break free from this cycle. This can be a long, difficult process. Depending on how severe your issues are, you may require inpatient psychiatric care, inpatient rehabilitation, regular sessions with a therapist or drug counsellor or both, assistance with your psychiatric medication, and placement in supported housing with staff who are properly trained to help you. Unfortunately, getting all these supports in place can be difficult, and it may take a lot of time. 

Locating or waiting for affordable housing. Sometimes the solution to homelessness is also the simplest: many people who experience homelessness escape by finding new housing that costs less than the housing that they lost. For people whose homelessness is more of a temporary “blip”, this can involve simply searching online for an apartment or room for rent that fits within their budget, or finding a roommate or two to seek out an affordable lease together. For people whose needs are more complex, this may involve going on the waiting list for section 8 housing, or other forms of subsidized housing. Unfortunately, the waiting list for this kind of housing can be long - New York City is currently processing housing applications that were submitted before 2009. The wait can be years or decades, especially if you live in a large and high-cost city with a large homeless population. 

Seeking assistance from a social services agency. This is what I do for a living! The network of social welfare programs, benefits, entitlements and non-profit services is confusing and difficult to navigate (often by design). For many people who experience chronic and complex homelessness, it can be too difficult to manage on their own. That is where social service agencies come in. As a case manager at one of these agencies, I know what benefits and programs are out there, I know what the requirements are, and I know what documentation my clients will need in order to enroll. I keep track of appointments and important documents, search for openings in programs, communicate with workers at other programs, and remind my clients about things they need to do. I can also provide advocacy and inside connections; if I call someone on a client’s behalf and let the person know that I am the client’s case manager at [giant social service agency], I am more likely to get a good outcome than the client is if they called by themselves - the person on the other end of the line knows that I am likely documenting the call and reporting the outcome to my supervisor, and they know that [giant social services agency] will be down their throat if they stonewall me. I can also draw on my personal connections to get the outcomes my clients need - maybe X housing unit doesn’t usually deal with clients like the one I’m serving, but if I’m buddies with one of the social workers there, sometimes I can call them directly and get them to make an exception. Getting involved with a social services agency isn’t the right fit for everyone who experiences homelessness, but it can be an essential step for many people. 

When we talk about “escaping homelessness”, there are a couple of big things that we also need to keep in mind. There are two different types of homelessness (short-term and long-term), and they are two very different beasts. The 60-something man who has been sleeping on your street corner for years and screaming at pigeons is in a very different situation from the 22-year-old who is living in his car for a couple of weeks because his new job doesn’t start until next month. Both of these people are homeless, but one of them is likely to escape homelessness very quickly, with little to no outside support - the other one may never escape at all. When we talk about “homeless people”, most people’s minds jump right to those extreme, complex, long-term cases with tragic backstories, but those are exceptions, not the rule. 75-85% of homeless people are short-term homeless; they are usually homeless only once in their lifetime, and escape within a couple of weeks; the majority are homeless for less than a month. These people usually become homeless due to unexpected “blips” in their life - job loss, bout of serious illness, fleeing a bad relationship, kicked out by parents, unexpected financial expense, etc - and for them, escaping homelessness is often a matter of finding a better job and a cheaper apartment, or getting a friend to spot them the money they need for a greyhound ticket to move in with a relative for a bit. The fact that homeless is short-term does not mean that it’s not a serious problem - being homeless for any period of time can be devastating to your mental health and self-esteem, and it can put you at higher risk of developing mental health and addiction issues. Nobody should be experiencing homeless in this country - the fact that so many people end up in this situation shows that wages and cost of living are seriously misaligned, and we don’t have nearly enough social safety nets to help people who experience domestic violence, long-term illness or job loss. On the other hand, though, people who experience complex, long-term homelessness have much higher needs. Around 15-25% of the homeless population are “chronically” homeless - this means that they have a documented disability, and they have been homeless for either one consecutive year, or for a total of 12+ months in 4+ episodes of homeless in the last three years. These are people who tend to require long-term intervention and assistance by social service agencies, and whether or not they escape homelessness depends on your definition of “escape”. Some of these people will unfortunately bounce between hospitals, jails, shelters and the street for the rest of their lives. There are serious gaps in social services, and people with treatment-resistant mental illness and addiction may slip right through, over and over again. Other people may eventually find a placement in a supported housing unit, or get old enough to be placed in a nursing home. These are places where they will always be monitored and always have staff checking up on them to make sure they are taking their medication, eating regularly, and going to all their doctors’ appointments. Some clients may not want this, and may resent the intrusion into their lives and their privacy; a lot of long-term homeless clients have difficulty understanding that they aren’t able to take care of themselves with their level of functioning, and that they are in great danger living on the streets, especially as they get older. “Getting a job” and getting their own apartment independently is simply not in the cards for many of these people - whether you consider placement in a supported housing unit to be “escaping” homelessness really depends on what your goals are. Fighting homelessness is one of the causes I’m most passionate about, and it’s one that I have dedicated much of my career to so far. If you have any other questions about homeless, I am happy to answer!

[eyesopen2019]

Last stop in China - Kunming

On 16th October we were dropped at the tiny Shangri-la airport for our short flight to Kunming which is a city of 6.6 million and 625km away.  There were no trains servicing Shangri-la and the bus journeys were too long for me, especially with kids who get motion sick, due to the mountainous terrain.  But it was amazing to see the close mountain ranges on both sides of the plane as we took off, and I hoped the pilots had good training.  We’d decided to stay for the remaining time we had in China in Kunming as we’d heard it was a pleasant city with lots to do nearby and we didn’t think we had time to go to Guilin as we’d earlier planned.  Kai especially was getting very fatigued with our constant travel and was keen to stay in one place for a bit longer.  Our Airbnb was a small but clean and recently renovated apartment right next to Green Lake Park which was where we’d been recommended to stay.

On our first night in the city, Hung and I stumbled across one of the snack street areas which was next to several large shopping malls. We tried some Chinese noodle dishes which were different to others we’d had previously then we found a supermarket and stocked up on cereal, eggs, bread, milk, pasta, pesto, bacon and cheese which were the staples we were always looking for when we arrived somewhere new and kept the kids, especially Kai, going.  The following day we met Anders (a Swedish man we met in the TLG) for lunch at Salvador’s which is supposed to have the best western food in town and enjoyed some Mexican food which was pretty good.  We wandered around checking out the surrounding streets for the afternoon and on our way home we found the Kunming Zoo which was 60 rmp ($11) for us all to visit so we decided to check it out.  Some of the enclosures were fairly small but they have a huge variety of animals, including a black panther, and we didn’t manage to see them all.  Leon’s favourite was the sloth while Lani loved the otters and snakes.  They both were surprised how big the camels were and said that was the first time they’d seen a camel in real life.

The next day Leon woke early and for some reason suddenly thought that there must be some new books out that he hadn’t read and we spent a morning checking out bookshops looking for the new Diary of a Wimpy Kid, but after some online research we found out it wasn’t being released for another month.  We did find some bilingual versions of books he has, as well as a couple of new books in English which we bought.  Then we spent a few hours in a café with a good coffee enjoying them.  We came home to get Lani and we visited the zoo for the afternoon to check out the rest of the animals we hadn’t seen on our first visit. We also managed to see an acrobatic show in the zoo theatre which was as good as the one we’d seen in Beijing, although the clowns were really annoying and noisy.  Hung and Kai went for a wander in town together for the afternoon to check out the shopping areas while we were at the zoo.  

There were several interesting day trips from Kunming. One day we got a car out to the western hills area or Xishan scenic spot which is an area to the west of Kunming with forested mountains and various temples.  From the ticket office we got a bus to the cable car station to get the cable car to Dragon Gate overlooking Dian Lake from where we could walk along a rocky path cut into the steep cliffs looking at the views and temples along the way. The area, like most places we visited in China, was very crowded with domestic tourists which definitely takes away from the quietness of visiting these natural areas.  Lani wasn’t too happy to find out that we had to walk down the side of the mountain once we had arrived by cable car with her asking, ‘What’s the point of going up if you just have to walk down?’.  But once we had descended down the path we got another cable car which crossed a section of Dian Lake from where we got a bus back home.

Another day we caught a bus to the Stone Forest which is 75km from Kunming and apparently just far enough away from Kunming so most people who live there never visit it.  It is a set of limestone peaks which looks like a stone forest and covers over 400 sq kilometres.  As you wander through the site it feels like a stone maze with huge limestone peaks with many different formations.  The kids enjoyed exploring the different areas, especially once we got away from where the bulk of tourists seemed to be.  After a couple of hours we decided to get a taxi to the Jiuxiang caves which are about 40km away.  After we arrived our taxi driver wanted to wait for us to see the caves and take us the 45min back to the stone forest and he refused to shut off the meter, but after some discussions with broken English we told him that we didn’t need him to stay and wait for us.  The caves are a cluster of 100s of caves and we walked along the designated path through some of the largest caves which were interesting but filled with coloured lights which made it seem artificial.  It was quite busy and we followed along behind several tour groups all talking very loudly and taking many photos.  There were several large waterfalls inside the caves which were very beautiful and there was meant to be a boat ride but we couldn’t seem to find it.  At the end of the path, we got a cable car back to the entrance and had to rush as we were told the last bus out was about 5pm. After getting on the bus we waited for about an hour before leaving which was annoying as we’d rushed through the caves to get on it but the kids were all tired and enjoyed just sitting as we’d walked a lot in the heat during the day.  We then had one of the bumpiest bus rides I have ever had with the road very poorly maintained and the bus with either too much or not enough suspension, I’m not sure.  I just know it was about 2 hours of constant bumping and almost hitting the roof with our heads.  We arrived at a  central bus station in I’m not sure where but from there we got another bus back to Kunming. It was a very long day but I was pleased we’d managed to see both areas in one day.  When we got back to Kunming, Hung was keen to jump on a bus for a few hours and to checkout some other local surrounding areas but in the end decided he was too tired.  

We spent several mornings and evenings wandering through the Green Lake Park and found a constant supply of Chinese people, young and old, playing games, singing, chatting and dancing together.  On the weekend, there were groups of 100’s of people dancing together for hours in different areas according to their dancing style.  This aspect of Chinese culture, with people joining together in parks, promotes community togetherness and encourages people to participate and I’m sure there are less people alone at home than in many western countries.  

Several other things are really well done in China, including the public toilets which you can find on most streets.  They are free and fairly clean, although smelly, but a necessity with several children in tow.  We also appreciate their various delivery services which are cheap and very efficient. One evening we needed water and after contacting our Airbnb host we had a deliver driver at our door 20mins later with a full bottle of water ready for installation.

On our last Sunday in Kunming we had a relaxing day, as Lani and I got up early and wandered around the park.  We found a man selling fishfood and she fed fish with another girl for a long time.  After a couple of hours we went home to get the boys and Kai took Leon and Lani for a ride in one of the electric boats for rent on the lake and they went around all over the place shooting things with water and crashing into bouys.  It was good to see Kai out enjoying the ride with Leon and Lani as it is easy to forget that at over 6ft he is still a 13yo kid. We all enjoyed Kunming but especially Kai, as he had a desk in his room overlooking the lake where he could play computer games as well as a Starbucks around the corner where he could duck out for drink when he wanted.  But by the end of our stay we were looking forward to traveling onto Vietnam.

[lifeoftheparty74]

Suprise visit

A/N: So here it is! My first ever posted Shawn Mendes imagine. I hope you enjoy!

Pairing(s): ShawnxReader

Word count: 1403

Warnings: None

In our entire relationship, we spent more time apart than we did together.

We've been together for almost two years, and when one of you is a celebrity that has tours, interviews and award shows all over the world, you don't really see each other a lot.

We first met a couple of years ago, when he was on tour and performed in my city. I went to the meet&greet, and by some miracle I ran into him later that evening.

Literally.

I wasn't looking where I was going, and bumped into his chest and he spilled his Starbucks drink all over me.

We hung out the rest of the night.

As we parted ways a couple of hours later, he asked my number.

A month later, he asked me out.

We've been together for two years now, and though it's been great, I can't pretend it doesn't get incredibly hard.

When you're in a long-distance relationship, and one of you travels a lot, of course you're bound to miss some important days together.

While Shawn is traveling a lot, it's not like I am very busy. In fact, I have enough time to visit him wherever he is. The issue there, is that I'm afraid of flying.

Cars I am okay with, and boats and trains are no big deal. But planes are. Because when I was almost ten, my dad was in a plane that crashed. No survivors.

Since then, I've had something against airplanes.

I myself have never again been on one again, but Shawn obviously has. Whenever he has to fly somewhere, I get stressed and the days leading up to the flight usually consist of nightmares of losing him.

So far, I am just glad nothing happened yet. And I continue hoping nothing will ever happen to him.

Right now, it has been seven months since I hugged my boyfriend. Obviously we've FaceTimed, and we text everyday.

But tomorrow is our second anniversary, and we're about to spend it apart. Because I had to work until this morning, and it would take hours for me to drive there, there is no possible way of us seeing each other in real life today.

He has a show in Paris, the city of love. How iconic.

Over the past years with him traveling so much, my fear of planes has gotten worse and worse. Which is why you might find it a little odd that right now I'm standing at the airport, waiting for the plane to France to be called.

***

The plane ride was terrible.  I was on my own, no one I knew could go with me.

Getting on the plane wasn't a big deal. I focused on other things like the clothes I would wear later or how I would surprise him at his show.

While he was performing?

Or after he got off stage?

I'm not sure yet.

Anyways, I was fine, until the plane started taking off.  The speed it went with was terrifying and I had trouble breathing. Once the plane started going up however and we could see the buildings on the ground shrinking, was when I lost it.

I had been so lucky there was a psychiatrist on board that knew what to do and managed to calm me down. I was so happy when the plane finally landed and I could get off.

At the airport,  I was greeted by Andrew. He knew how afraid I was of planes, and knew that I'd be more comfortable driving with him than a chauffeur.

"Are you okay?" He asked as soon as he saw me, walking up to me and embracing me in a hug.

"Yeah, I am now. Thank you." I nod, as we walk to get my suitcase.

We arrived at Shawn's show an hour before he had to go up stage, so I hid in the tour bus. After a full hour of keeping myself entertained on my phone, Andrew finally came to get me, telling me it was safe to go backstage now.

As I stood there, I admired the man I was so lucky to call mine. I saw all the passion and work he threw into every performance.

He'd gone live on Instagram, positioning his phone backstage, so everyone could follow it. I had it opened too, but I was obviously more focused on the real thing right in front of me.

When Shawn had sung his last song for the night, There's Nothing Holdin' Me Back, he surprised both his fans and me when he stayed on stage and started a speech.

About me.

God, I love this man.

"Even though she can't be here tonight, I want to say this to her.

"Y/n, baby, I love you. I still remember that night a little over two years ago, when I first met you. My first thought when you walked into that meet and greet was how insanely adorable you were. You wore that light pink shirt you loved so much, and your hair was in a beautiful side braid. You smiled so wide.

"But the first thing I noticed about you, were your eyes. That beautiful deep shade I got lost in.

"To this day, I still love your eyes a lot.

"But the best thing about you must be your personality.

"Not only your happiness and sarcasm, but also how supportive you are. Without you, I would not be standing here today.

"I also love how clingy you can sometimes be.

"How you hold on to me for hours and won't let go, how you steal all my hoodies and sweatpants, and can cuddle with me for hours.

"I love you, baby. Happy anniversary."

By the end of his speech, I was swooning. Most girls in the audience were too.

Suddenly I get an idea, and before Shawn leaves the stage, I call his phone from mine. Andrew sees what I'm doing, and runs up the stage, phone in hand.

"Shawn, it's Y/n."

He immediately answers, mouth still close to the mic.

"Hi sweetie."

"Hey" I giggle back softly, covering the underside of my phone, hoping he can't hear the screaming fans through it.

"Are you watching right now?"

"No, I'm not." I know he knows I'm rolling my eyes. "Of course I am, you dweeb. I love you."

"I love you too, babe. And I miss you. So much."

"I missed you too." I respond, grinning as I hang up the phone.

"MissED? What do you mean? Y/n -" He gets shut up by the screaming fans as I walk on stage.

He looks around him confused, and as he finally spots me, I see that smile.

That smile he only gives me.

As I am finally in his arms again and can breathe in his scent, I'm not finally with my boyfriend again.

I'm finally home again.

***

"How did you even get here? You had work yesterday and it takes hours to drive here."

I blush confidently. "I flew."

He spins around, dropping his phone to the floor. "You what?"

"I flew."

His mouth gaped open, wide eyes staring at me.

"But babe, you're-"

"Afraid of planes. Yeah."

He turned around more, laying one hand on my right shoulder and the other tilting up my chin, staring into my eyes.

"You got on a plane. For me."

I smiled at him. "No, I came here so I can finally fuck Connor again."

He groaned, already done with my sarcasm after fifteen minutes of being reunited.

He leaned his head on my shoulder, hands around my waist as he pulled me backwards on the bed.

"I missed you."

"So much." I replied, cuddling further into his side.

"I can't believe you actually got on a plane and I wasn't there."

"I was fine. It was scary at first, but I became kind of used to it and Andrew came to pick me up. I think I'll visit you more often while you're touring from now on."

"Really?" He asked, perking up a little.

"Really." I smiled.

"I love you." He mumbled against the skin of my neck, his lips kissing me every few seconds.

"So much." I replied, running my hand through his curls, massaging his scalp.

After two minutes, I called his name. "Shawn?"

When he didn't reply, I realized he'd fallen asleep, and with that, I closed my eyes too.

[ick25]

Rockman.EXE Episode 47 Review.

Told you these guys would be back. -__-

Let the Wacky Races parody begin!

We start the episode with car related shots, something that looks like a photo shooting with Aki-chan, more car related close ups and a scene of Iceman being taken away from Aki by Glyde.

A race is taking place today! Shots of the drivers getting their cars ready along with Rush getting chained to one of the cars for some reason, and Rockman putting on the goggles we saw earlier along with his battle mask.

He looks cute with goggles. :3

We see the different “cars” at the starting line as the race begins!

Yes, that is in fact Magicman’s arm shoveling coal into a train engine.

Its is reveal to be a Net Mobile Grand Prix hosted by Yaito since the commentator is one of her maids. Just then, a newcomer drives in at the last second.

Blues joins the brawl! I mean race.

After the title card, Yaito’s maid tells us the name of each car and their respective drivers.

Rockman is driving the only real race car, Gutsman is racing in a tank, Roll’s car looks sentient and Glide is wearing gloves over his gloves.

Mania-Obsessive, the Ex-WWW Navis are driving a train, Net agents are driving a manly submarine and Yaito’s maid just straight up insults Blues. Talk about an objective commentator.

This is basically Mario Karts, so we all know they’re gonna attack eachother, be realistic woman!

The winner, aside from the title, will also receive a kiss from the CGI race queen.

“I love you, you love me, we all love weird looking CGI~”

I can only imagine those are the lyrics of a new cheezy song of hers.

This is something I didn’t like from the dub, we all know that Roll has a crush on Rockman, but it is not okay to make her jealous of other girls? The dub change the dialogue to Roll complaining about Rush not being in the car with her, as if she didn’t know that she has him strapped to the car’s front. It’s actually cute how Roll wants to win the race to avoid having Aki kiss him.

But Rockman couldn’t care less about the kiss because all he wants is to win no matter the battle, as he then gives us a flashback from a few days earlier at the Maha Ichiban where Yaito is telling everyone (including Higure for some reason) about the race.

I love that little gag with Netto, eating curry is always a priority for him. Also, why is one of Hello Kitty’s friends on the wall? Or... maybe its just a pig.

Yaito then shows them a new line of Navi cars with Numberman as the model.

The idea behind these cars is that Navis will be able to drive cars through the internet, which is pretty stupid considering that there are no highways in Internet city and Navis can easily travel fast plug-in style. But we all know that the real reason is to make Blues look cool in a future episode and have a Wacky Races parody.

In order to advertize the cars, Yaito wants to hold a race and asks Netto and the others to take part, they accept, but the Ex-WWW overhears them and ask to join as well for the publicity for their restaurant. And for some reason Commander Beef and the rest of the Net Agents arrive and decide to enter as well to foil WWW’s idea. And Yaito being so selfish doesn’t give a crap about the WWW’s intention like she did in the last episode and just accepts everyone.

But it DOES bother you when Enzan joins the race at the last second, you self centered big headed hypocrite! You are tied in with Rush for the second spot on my list of most hated characters from this season! (You should all know who number one is).

In the cyberworld, Glyde asks Iceman to be his co-pilot and Roll invites Rush along before noticing something wrong with him. Turns out the Cutman brothers are back and they made a paper cut out of a flea to spy on Rockman’s group. They plan to take out Rockman during the race because they still think he’s evil and now they seem to have a crush on Roll all of a sudden.

Makes sense that Glyde asks to team up with Iceman, because I don’t believe there is a car small enough for him.

The flashback ends, making me wonder if the Cutmen scene was part of Rockman’s memory, and we return to the race. We also see the thoughts of the Net Agents taking part as well.

Funny you ask that, Miyuki, because we then cut to Madoi wondering why the WWW is driving a train. Mahajarama just happens to have a thing for trains.

We cut to Rockman who just now finds out that Blues is in the race, I mean come on, Netto didn’t tell him?

Gutsman manages to pass Rockman... On a tank! How?

Gutsman gets in front of Numberman and decides to bend the rules by attacking the car, sending it flying and forcing Numberman to log out after it blows up leaving an emoji face Higure-san.

The cars enter a tunnel where Iceman decides to freeze the road causing Gutsman to drift out of control.

However, Roll-chan is too close, but she avoids crashing into Gutsman by quickly drifting along with him. Worried about Roll’s safety, Gutsman decides to destroy his own car forcing him to log-out.

Here is another line changed in the dub. It’s a fact in both versions that Gutsman has a crush on Roll and he even sacrificed himself in episode 24 to protect her. Here, the dub had him saying that he was getting dizzy and he destroys his own car because he couldn’t take it anymore. I guess the dub wanted Roll to be portrayed more as an equal than having a man sacrificing himself for her for no real reason.

After this we see the Cutman brothers waiting outside of the tunnel where they make a giant paper cut out of a canon. Netto cheers for Rockman, but just then the WWW train pushes his car off balance making him slide out of control before cutting to commercials.

We come back from commercials with Netto saving Rockman by changing his tires, with a little warning about using those tires in public roads that was skipped in the dub. Rockman regains control by driving on the walls of the tunnel and the race continues with Higure-san as a new commentator.

The insult of the day is “pain in the ass” because this is the third time we hear that in this episode. Or the sub was too lazy to think of another insult.

The cars exit the tunnel where the Cutmen are waiting for Rockman with the canon, but for some reason they just stand there. I guess the cars are so fast that they didn’t get the chance to shoot?

The line in the dub was just as pathetic. ¬ -¬

The next obstacle is a draw bridge opening, Rockman and Blues manage to jump to the other side without problems, Roll-chan has some kind of air bag under her car that allows her to bounce to the other side, but the manly submarine can only do what it does best, dive.

So the Net agents are out and now its time for the WWW to upgrade their train from a steam powered locomotive to an electrical train thanks to the Count and Elecman.

I like how Coloredman and Heatman are waving their hands in the air like they don’t even care. XD

Time for the Cutmen’s third attemp to destroy Rockman, by planting something on his car using a manhole they created out of paper. It looks like they forgot cut some stairs because Cutman Jiro (Eyebrows) is using the rest of the Cutmen to give him leverage. The fat cutman at the bottom gets a supper boost of strenght causing Jiro to get run over by Rockman’s car. They ask about what happened to the paper cut out, which turns out to be a time bomb, and they assume that it successfuly stuck to Rockman’s car making them feel victorious and making up a new excuse for last time about Roll-chan being in danger too. What’s this sudden crush for Roll?!

“It was at this moment that Cutman Jiro realized... He f*!ked up.”

We return to the race with the WWW Navis in first place and attacking the other cars, they eventually take out the Battle Bus much for Yaito’s maid’s dismay.

Boo-hoo, maybe now you  can concentrate in being an objective commentator.

The WWW feels confident, but Enzan, Netto and Meiru power up their Navi’s vehicles giving them a boost of speed to pass the WWW train.

As the WWW Navis are shocked by Rockman and the others passing them, the Otoko-Maru raises from the water and returns to the race just to get in the way of the Wakahage taking both teams out.

This was just a hilarious accident, but the dub made it look like the Navis themselves did it on purpose to get the WWW out of the race. That would actually make sense, Sharkman, Woodman and Skullman sacrificing themselves for their main objective fits with their characters, after all we don’t see their reactions inside the submarine. They like “Screw this race, we are taking the WWW with us!” ;)

Cue the final lap music of Mario Karts, or in this case, Rockman’s victory music since we have reach the third and final lap of the race with Rockman, Blues and Roll-chan racing eachother.

We see the Cutmen waiting at the finish line as Rockman and Blues focus on eachother and both of them try to make a move in a corner, but they seem to forget that Roll is behind them because they open up a gap for her to move on to first place.

And the seventh panel was ruined by a layering mistake. ¬ . ¬

Roll is now in the lead, but Rockman and Blues are not happy with this so it’s time for their Netops to send in their last accessory chips to transform their vehicles, with Meiru doing the same to keep her advantage over them.

Roll’s corny car just became a freaking rocket plane with wheels!

As Rock and Blues try to catch up with her, we check back with the Cutman brothers who discover a tiny problem with their plan of blowing up Rockman.

That little Cutman is an idiot. Turns out the bomb was stuck to Jiro’s back all along, probably after he got ran over by Rockman’s car, the rest of the Cutman panic trying to take it off with no avail.

The three Navis are almost at the finish line, Roll is holding her ground, until one of her tires suddenly blows up for whatever reason causing her to spin out of control, Rockman and Blues take advantage of this to pass her. 

Roll’s car finally crashes and blows up sending Rush flying and forcig Roll to log out leaving behind a tear.

Yeap, that is a tear drop breaking. The dub kept this in because I remember wondering what that was. I inicially thought it was like a sweat drop, but after watching the original version, I realized that was a tear because Roll was heartbroken knowing that she failed to stop Rockman from winning and getting kissed by Aki-chan. AWWWWW.

So now it’s down to Rockman and Blues! Who will become the champion?

Hmmm... Considering that motorcycles don’t normally take part in car races, this is gonna be a tough call.

Anyway, the race is over and I want my fireworks!

Woo hoo! Let’s celebrate because this is the last time we see the Cutman brothers. (Until the Beast saga, but that’s another story.)

As they are waiting for the results, Blues raises his index finger to the sky making everyone believe that he is declaring himself the winner, but he surrprises them by pointing at Rockman and declaring him the victor.

But this moment of good sportmanship is ruined by the photo finish that shows that the winner of the race.... Is Rush.

I dont know why they cutted out Blues’s reaction in the dub, it was funny. Or do they think Blues is too cool for this?

Yes, Rush is the winner because he crossed the finish line first after Roll’s car blew up, so I guess in a way, Roll got her wish. :3

And the episode ends with everyone booing as Aki-chan kisses an unconscious Rush and Netto breaking the picture with his face.

My thoughts?

Before I forget again, here is a fun fact! Cutman Jiro and the original Cutman were voiced by the same person who voiced Bubbleman in the rest of the anime, Chiyako Shibahara. It was until the Beast saga when the Cutman Brothers and Cutman himself return for an episode where I realized it was the same voice, the only difference being that they don’t say “Puku” all the time.

Wacky Races was an old Hanna-Barbera show from the 80′s that was very popular in a lot of countries, specially in Japan for many animes would include an episode based on the concept. Whether it was a direct parody or just inspired by it, this episode is clearly one of those examples. Sure, it might also be a reference to the Megaman Battle and Chase game that was released in 1997, but that could’ve been inspired by Wacky Races too.

How can I tell if this was directly inspired by the Wacky Races cartoon?

Because Roll-chan’s car is an obvious parody of Penelope Pitstop’s car from the show, with the car wearing mascara an all. And I think there was also a tank in the race.

All and all, this was a very fun episode to watch, it wasn’t ridiculous like the baseball one, this one was written into the story to actually make sense. Remember my criterias for episode 43? The episode introduced something new that fits in with the anime’s universe, and Blues’s bike will make a comeback in a future episode.

[forgottenblueroses]

@we-believe-in-you-crew has sent in a request for angst, based off of this meme. The random picker chose 63, in which our muses are the only survivors of a bus, train, or plane crash. This ought to be interesting. . . . Garry hadn’t really wanted to be on a bus to begin with. But he’d found himself in a situation where he had no choice, as his car had broken down and his mother lived too far away to bother calling. This was one of the many reasons why he needed more friends, he supposed. He was quietly watching out the window, when suddenly the entire vehicle sharply jeered to the left. “Oh!” He tried to grab onto something, but before he knew it, the bus had flipped. And flipped again. It seemed it was rolling down a hill. Everything was a blur until it finally came to a stop, sitting upright again. Taking a shaky breath, the young man rapidly unbuckled himself from the seat, ducking under the bent in ceiling to try and get to the other person that was in the seat immediately next to him. He was injured and bleeding, but was only vaguely aware of it. “Are.. Are you okay?”