#((And Christoff's is being taken over ^-^

[aath-official]

[RECALIBRATION IN PROGRESS...]

[christnarr]

jeb and phobos relationship interpretation/analysis

sorry if its a bit aimless its rewritten from several discord messages from the past few years

all of this provides screenshots of canon evidence to back it up

overall warning for abusive situations and heavy themes

first i want to get into the way nexus scientists as a whole were treated:

theres a few things that stand out to me here, on what scientists are expected not to do:

"-any interaction with outsiders", implying nexus scientists are either heavily monitored when they interact with people outside the nexus or theyre just not allowed to at all

-they cant have "unusual feelings of rage, hostility, depression". pretty self explanatory

the tower guards also have no problem using physical force against you in the cutscenes

if employees are fired or quit, they are killed:

phobos only refers to jeb with his first name in the professional setting rather than christoff, adding to the lack of respect phobos has for him

(as much as this often goes both ways with jeb using "phobos" when hes mad, i bring this up as a point in the piling evidence suggesting the dynamic between them is built on control, disrespect, and dehumanization. if you ask me the contexts of phobos using "jebediah" vs jeb using "phobos" are completely different in their own way, but i wanted to say that anyways to clear it up)

just from the science tower cutscene alone we see how much degrading language phobos uses towards jeb too

^= if you want to get into theory territory, theres also the flavor text for postfall jebs labcoat:

"ablating damage from harsh language" huh

another two lines that are super important to me:

1. phobos says that jeb does as he says until the day phobos releases him to the other place, essentially saying jeb is under phoboses control for life, until phobos decides to kill jeb himself.

2. phobos says he picked jeb up from the wastes of nevada and set him on his path. this line will be brought up a lot later for different reasons

this establishes the amount of control phobos really has over jeb and the other scientists, the way he treated/punished them, and what working at the nexus means; its a lifelong commitment thats meant to be your purpose, and for a lot of people it wasnt even a choice. its implied that ultimately this was the case for jeb, given that employees are killed upon termination of employment. jeb may have been passionate about his work, but he still wasnt allowed to leave. he deserved the choice, regardless if he would have taken it or not.

with this in mind i imagine that jeb himself was labeled as "defiant" given how much of a control freak he is, how he speaks up about his grievances with phoboses decisions and any idea he doesnt agree with;

thus making him much more isolated from the general society than the rest of the scientists. in my mind this is why we dont see him in nevada central during arena mode like we do crackpot and hofnarr. jeb has more restrictions placed on him since hes perceived as more likely to reveal company secrets, rally people against the nexus, etc.

so this amount of control, pressure, isolation was particularly harsher for him. which gets into my next point:

phobos played a hand in shaping "the savior"

i think phobos in some way planted the seeds for the future motives of every head scientist we see. he plays a very strong narrative force in mpn even after his death, which is what i like about him.

in jebs case its the expectation of being nexus city/nevadas savior. his intentions from the very beginning were to save the world:

jeb and the other scientists were put on a pedestal in the form of propaganda to the city

he genuinely feels above people and that its his purpose to save them because thats what he was told his entire life.

and jeb was given significant pressure to be perfect and not to make any mistakes

"do whatever it takes, jebediah"

i like to think that outlook stuck with him

jeb had this idea that his purpose is to save the world instilled into him for years. not only that, but he found out that it was all for nothing. being the person he is, of course he would want to take matters into his own hands. be the savior he was always meant to be. trying to claim hes broken free of the past, when subconsciously hes shaping his identity around it. whether he likes it or not, his time at the nexus clearly carried into his present worldview. he still holds onto the belief that his purpose is to save nevada.

and with all the pressure he had, he has this aversion to accepting criticism or accepting that he failed. you can hear this directly in his death voicelines. if he fails, he has no purpose anymore. to this day jeb is averse to criticism and deflects it. when doc tells him project nexus is still alive, he refuses to believe his efforts were for nothing and he snaps at them.

jeb also takes after phobos in his mannerisms and speech patterns. even uses of specific phrases like calling the main three "gentlemen" and using the same animations.

hell, jeb even has the binary sword, which he took from phobos, as his main weapon. he literally uses something belonging to phobos to enact his self-proclaimed purpose. that in itself symbolizes how deeply intertwined jebs newfound purpose is with what phobos expected of him. you just cant separate the two. jeb now embodies someone he swore to destroy.

and with the way jeb uses hofnarr and sheriff to further his goals, whether theyre good-intentioned or not, it can be seen as a trauma cycle. once jeb spirals into this savior mindset, other people are just gears in his plan to save nevada. jeb very often reflects the actions and mannerisms of phobos, and with the context that jeb was under phoboses control for most of his upbringing, it becomes clear that phobos was the one who imprinted on him. it obviously doesnt mean jeb isnt responsible for his own actions, he most certainly is. but its fun to shed light on where this all could have stemmed from.

overall to me jebs a pretty interesting example of how unhealed trauma and abuse can shape you into a bitter, terrible person if left to fester (definitely not always the case, of course v_v;;). jeb doesnt want to heal and refuses to look inward and see his flaws because of his bad experiences with making mistakes, so he only gets worse as the series progresses. its cool to explore what that does to someone and theres a lot of potential on the dynamic between jeb and phobos that i really love. i hope you like my post too, its been years in the making ^_^

[dairy-godmother]

Good & Evil is about the Truman Show AND I CAN PROVE IT.

Part 5: Who You Are

Note: Blue text is responses from my sister.

“You were the chosen appointment to be who you are”

Truman was chosen specially out of multiple possible babies. He was chosen.

“I have been sitting and waiting and hoping apart”

Sylvia has been waiting for him to escape and hoping for him on her own

“You are insight in the air, in the night, in the airplane”

He’s everywhere. Everyone sees him all the time. He’s the most recognizable face in the world. He’s also planning to travel.

“I am a light in the city your flight overcame”

Sylvia was a light in the darkness for him.

“How is it all of the people can know who you are?”

Rhetorical question. How here is more in the sense of “how dare you”. How dare these people intrude on truman’d privacy?

“Off in the distance emitting a glow in the dark”

Since time usually matches up with the actual time in the area, when Christoff turned the lights on the glow from the dome was likely visible to towns around it. Truman’s escape could have literally lit up the night. The glow of a tv playing a late night sitcom.

“I see you

Not too far”

Everyone can see Truman from anywhere, but when Sylvia leaves at the end when Truman escapes, she rushes out so unlike most viewers she must actually be nearby.

Now we switch to Truman’s perspective.

“Maybe there's something to being the one who you are”

Maybe there’s something important about sylvia. She’s just as special in the show as Truman.

“Holding the thoughts in as you pull away in your car”

When Sylvia is taken away Truman can’t do anything about it, and if what she said was true (which it was) he’d be scared to speak.

“I get to thinking a little too often and

All that I want is a little aloft and

Maybe it's all too much thinking and not enough heart”

Truman starts thinking about his reality too much, distracting him from his life (for good reason) and all he wants is conversation. But he’s losing his most important relationships at the same time. His wife. His mom. His best friend. They’re making him doubt the truth that he already knows.

“How is it all of the people can know who you are?”

He asks this about himself. How did that officer know his name? What did that little girl mean on the train? How do they know??

“Off in the distance emitting a glow in the dark”

Sylvia is always an achievable goal in his mind. She’s off in Figi! And she is the streetlight he overcame.

“All of it subtle and all of it very bizarre”

I mean do I even have to say it? All of the signs he’s given? That weird plane being struck by lightning poster

“How is it all of the people can know who you are?”

How do they predict my every move?

“I see you

Not too far”

Truman sees Sylvia in little things and knows she’s in reach. He can perfectly recreate her face out of magazines because he sees her.

Now we go to the perspective of the Free Truman movement.

“Armed to the teeth

You will sit at the fireside”

Christoff will sit back and relax protected by people while Truman suffers

“We are the ones who have chosen the other side”

We decided Truman needs to be free.

“It was easy to see

You were ready to be”

Truman made it clear that he was over it.

“And it all falls down”

And the show falls apart.

“You rose up

And rode away underground”

Truman left and went away

“Alone, us

Finding our way to found”

Sylvia and Truman have nothing to do now. Their goals have been reached. They alone need to find their way to someplace new. Maybe Fiji!

“You rose up

And rode away underground

Alone, us

Finding our way to found

Dark, I see you

Not too far”

Well Fiji actually is pretty far, but anything is possible now that they’re free.

[imyourliquor-youremypoison]

French Kiss (Skam - Chris x OC) Christmas Special Pt.1

Synopsis : Life is a show and Nissen was Christoffer’s stage. He owned the place, people cheered for him, he brought life to the parties and good looks to his group of friends. But after high school he wasn’t so much of a star boy anymore and he found himself being terribly alone. Who really knew the real him? Only the people who got a backstage pass to his life could claim to do. But amidst all the turmoil of his young years, a strange girl is going to stumbled in his life - neither of them will be prepared for this.

Word Count: 5.7k

Part 11 <<< >>> Christmas Special Pt.2

MASTERLIST

Helen planned on spending Christmas back in France with her family, and then hopefully make it back in time to kick off the new year with Chris. Her suitcase was ready a week in advance, and she lived off of old makeup, baggy clothes, and flat shoes. Chris had teased her for her childlike excitement, but he had been more than happy to lend her a sweater or two, not mad one bit to see his girlfriend walking around in his clothes.

He had insisted on driving her to the airport, even though she could have taken public transportation, because the weather was so cold and the wind so bad today. She refused  three times before caving in. He had kissed her goodbye at check-in, and told her to text when she arrived. He didn’t use to do that until recently, and it always made her smile - it was like seeing him come to terms with the fact that he now cared for someone, truly cared. It had only been a handful of weeks since they got together and it was plain as daylight that it was the first relationship he went in seriously.

She had barely passed security when the announcement came through: all planes would stay grounded until the storm passed over, for now all flights were suspended. The weather forecast wasn't optimistic, there was a snow storm sweeping over Oslo and it wasn’t supposed to let up until tomorrow evening. 

God, she had counted on the fact that it was only picking up now, and that her flight would still make it. Shit. The crowd of people around her was similarly distressed and upset, scurrying here and there to gather wandering children and other family members, lining up at the information desk to try and find a solution.

Helen pulled out her phone immediately and tried to book a new flight, but it yielded nothing. With all planes likely grounded until two days from now, and the holidays period, all remaining flights were booked out. She cursed out loud and angrily shut her phone, squatting near a wall and rubbing her face.

First things first: she needed to get her checked in suitcase back. Clearly, she would get nowhere today, so she would take a breath and find her belongings, then take the train back to her apartment. There, she would be able to think calmly and browse for flights. If she tried to join the queue to the info desk now, she’d still be standing there in six hours.

It took her two hours in order to retrieve her luggage and get to the station. There were so many people forced to go back to town and cancel their holidays. Still, it was better than all the people who couldn’t get back home and had to find a hotel for the night so close to christmas. Helen sighed and burrowed her face deeper in her scarf. The first thing she had bought when moving to Norway was decent Winter clothes, and she was thankful for that. Nothing could have prepared her for the cold she felt as deep as her bones.

She could have called Chris. Maybe she should have, in fact. Something held her back. It wasn’t her fault that her flight was cancelled, but she felt stupid that he drove her all the way here for nothing, and she didn’t want to make him drive again in this horrid weather, the road had been almost completely closed, the snow ploughs barely keeping up with the snow fall. 

But even more than that, she didn’t want him to cancel his holiday plans just because hers fell through. Because he would. She knew he would. Shansa had already left for Ireland the week before, her apartment would be cold and empty, and he would feel guilty leaving her alone. But as much as he sometimes complained about his controlling parents, she knew he was looking forward to spending a bit of time with his family. He deserved this.

So she went home alone, cold, soggy because of the melting snow, her face practically frozen, and overall miserable. She didn’t have the energy to do anything other than shower to get her blood running again, change into soft pajamas, and curl up on the couch in front of Netflix. Her suitcase, symbol of her ruined vacation, lay abandoned near the door.

She fell asleep like that, too tired and her hands too cold to type on the computer now anyway. What were the chances that she’d find a last minute flight she could afford now? Christmas eve was in four days, two of which were already wasted due to the weather, and that was only if the snow let up after that.

Her phone blew up over the night, and she woke up to a dozen texts from Chris. She hadn’t forgotten that he had asked her to text when she arrived, but she neither wanted to lie, nor admit that she didn’t make it there. Ghosting him clearly wasn’t the solution, but she wasn’t thinking very rationally last night. Oh well. She answered him to let him know she was good and that she missed him at breakfast. It was their thing to eat breakfast together - to start the day seeing each other, in case life got in the way and they didn’t get to later. 

It all felt all the more stupid because she knew he was downstairs. 

After drinking a scalding hot coffee and eating a piece of toast with egg, Helen felt energized enough to search for a flight, but she had been right not to get her hopes up: there was nothing. The few options she had were completely out of her price range, and it felt like a waste to shell out that much money now. Her visit was already cut short one day now, and paying five times a plane ticket’s normal price was not worth it. 

Helen had no choice but to call her parents again to let them know. They were disappointed but glad that she was safe, even if it meant far away. They offered to celebrate a late Christmas over January, when the flight prices would go down, and promised to keep her gift and the christmas tree exactly where they were until then.

Just when she was resigned to spending Christmas on her lonesome, eating instant noodles and watching movies, her plans were thwarted. Not once had she thought that if she knew when Chris was home, he could also tell when she was there. 

On the second day, he came knocking.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, clearly very confused to see her there. 

“What are you doing here?” she asked back. 

He crossed his arms over his chest. It wasn’t her best comeback, and now he looked annoyed - that he drove to the airport for nothing? That she lied in her text? That she didn’t call him? That she didn’t answer his question? Helen blushed in embarrassment. 

“I was out buying cat food and when I came back, I saw light upstairs. I thought you’d left a lamp on.” Damn, that was a perfectly good reason to be here. She had given him a double of the keys in case of emergency while she was away. “Now your turn.” He raised an eyebrow and made a little hand gesture towards her.

She sighed, knowing it would sound stupid when she said it out loud, but oh well, the truth was the truth.

“My flight was cancelled due to the snow storm.” Her shoulders sagged. “I didn’t want to bother you and ruin your Christmas.”

She couldn’t have sounded more miserable if she tried, and Chris, after a brief moment of silence, smiled. He smiled. Granted, it wasn’t her finest moment - and she looked terrible in her sweatpants and ugly Christmas sweater, her hair hadn’t seen a brush since she left for the airport two days ago, she didn’t wear makeup - but it wasn’t funny. His smile reached all the way to his eyes when his lower lip trembled a bit, and he started laughing.

“Do you think this is funny?” she asked, ready to slam the door in his face.

“I think you’re ridiculous.” He shook his head. “You should have called, I’d have come back for you.”

Helen closed her eyes and groaned, aware that she hadn’t had the best reaction then when the cancellation was announced. She had just given up and sulked the next 24 hours away.

“Yeah… I know. It was stupid, but I didn’t want you to drive back there again in this weather, and I just wanted to get home. It took forever to get my suitcase back, you would have waited for me, and I just-”

“Stop,” he cut her off, placing a hand on her shoulder, his thumb on her neck, tracing slow patterns. She sucked in a breath and leaned into his touch. “C’mon,” he said, pulling her into him to place a kiss on her forehead. “Get dressed and come join me downstairs. You’re not staying here, I can’t enjoy my Christmas if I know you’re alone in this empty apartment.”

“No, you were going to spend a few days with your parents, you should do as you planned. I’ll survive a few days on my own,” she assured him, laughing a bit for good measure even though she did not look forward to it.

“What makes you think I won’t?” Chris asked. “Just come with me. It’ll be more fun if you’re here anyway, I don’t have any siblings to get into trouble with. It’s usually just me and my folks, and I’d love the company.”

“No, I couldn’t-” she began to protest. “I don’t want to impose on your family time.” 

Not to mention she was modified at the prospect of meeting both his parents without any time to prepare mentally or otherwise, since he would join them before the end of the day. Served her well for not putting in any effort today.

There was a pause before Chris, still standing in her doorway, pointed at her suitcase.

“What’s in there?” he asked.

Helen frowned at the sudden change of subject.

“Most of my earthly possessions if I’m being honest,” she answered after a beat. Maybe she had overpacked just a little bit, but she liked to be ready and to make an entrance, what could she say? 

“Perfect!” Chris proceeded to snatch her suitcase before she could react, and he almost ran to the elevator. “If you want it back you need to follow me,” he shouted from down the hallway.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I need what’s in there,” Helen protested, reluctant to step outside her flat looking like a mop.

“Yes, you do. To come with me and spend Christmas in a real cabin in the mountains, not to hole up here, all alone,” he argued. She heard the familiar ‘ding’ of the elevator signaling it arrived on this floor.

“Chris!”

That wasn’t really an argument, but she was gobsmacked at the audacity of this boy. She shouldn’t be, because it was the same Chris who tricked her into a date, who flirted shamelessly with her for weeks despite her keeping him at arm’s length. This was the Funny Business Chris. And God damn if he wasn’t her favourite Chris of all.

“Are you absolutely sure your parents won’t mind you inviting me?”

“I’m sure.” There was finality in his tone.

She hesitated only one more beat.

“I’ll get dressed and join you downstairs.”

*

Chris was frying some eggs when a pair of arms wrapped around his waist from behind, and nearly sent him into a coma.

“You sneaky-” he started but bit down on his tongue before letting out a profanity, dropping the fork he was holding. “I need to start locking my window again.”

“You wouldn’t,” Helen dared him, her voice a whisper against his ear. 

No, he really wouldn’t. He would honestly rather take the risk of a burglar coming in than Helen being stuck outside. He didn’t answer, he simply shook his head with a smile on his lips, and lifted his left arm so Helen could scoot under it and snuggle his side. 

“Eggs on toast? Fresh fruit? What are we celebrating?” she asked, stealing a piece of bread freshly out of the toaster.

Chris blushed suddenly, not wanting to admit out loud that he had wanted to spoil her a little, even though there was nothing to be ashamed of, on the contrary.

“Felt in a decadent mood,” he offered. “And I had some fresh produce to go through before leaving.”

Helen shrugged and smiled, accepting the explanation. She had dressed warm and casual: a thick pair of leggings, high socks, and what looked like several underlayers topped with a long sweater. She looked like a big, soft hug.

“I’ll make the coffee,” she declared, but Chris held her back by the wrist and spun her back towards him, as smoothly as the night they first kissed, when they danced in her living room. For a heartbeat, Helen was stunned into complete silence.

“No!” he said, then quickly hooked his hands under her thighs to lift her up. Helen gasped in surprise but wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist to catch herself.

And just like that, she felt she had way too many layers on. Had Chris’ place better heating than hers? She could feel her face grow redder by the second, but thankfully, Chris set her down.

On the kitchen island. 

“You stay here,” he ordered. “No moving.”

“Why?” Helen laughed but obeyed. “Why can’t I make coffee?”

“Because I said so.”

“But I-”

“Tststs,” he cut her off, waving his fork at her now. She closed her mouth, still smiling. “That’s better.”

“Oh my, I didn’t realize you were so bossy,” she commented, swinging her legs back and forth. “Though I have to say, I kind of like the view from here.”

Helen leaned back and tilted her head, eyeing Chris’ form up and down as he stood with his back to her and finished cooking the eggs. If she didn’t watch herself, she would spend entire minutes simply looking at him, not saying a word. He caught her once and had been surprisingly flustered, almost shy about it. She couldn’t fathom Chris not being used to being stared at.

Now she admired his broad shoulders and narrow waist. He was dressed clean, he looked much more put together than her, probably for his parents’ benefit. Maybe she should have dressed up a little more, but like she said, most of her nice things were in the suitcase he ran away with.

“You should see what’s under there,” he teased her, turning his head just long enough to wink her way.

“But I already know what underneath, I just never get tired of it, I guess,” she continued, now full on trying to distract him from his task. It took effort not to jump off the counter and press her entire body against his, letting her hands slip under his sweater and roam over his back. 

She took off her knitted sweater, feeling way too hot now - she had dressed to go out in the cold, not to have a domestic moment with her boyfriend. What good were all these layers here? Helen leaned back even more and spread her legs - just a little, nothing outrageous. 

“You can touch but only with your eyes, I’m not on the menu.”

He didn’t turn around, which made her squint her eyes at his back.

“That’s not fair,” she whined a little. “I’d like to speak with whoever is in charge of this place.”

When Chris finally turned on his heels to look at her, the snarky reply he had at the ready died on his lips. He pushed the pan off the stove and dropped the fork, almost pouncing on her. He now stood between her legs, hands slammed on the counter on each side of her and that was all he could do not to grab her ass and slide her towards him to press her flush against his chest.

The minx had dropped all of her tops while he had his back turned, and now sat in her leggings and bra on his kitchen island, taunting him even as he tried to cook her an innocent, wholesome breakfast. 

“I’m gonna go ahead and assume you’re not that hungry,” Chris managed to say, voice raspy,, swallowing hard while he tried to look her in the eyes and not just stare openly at her chest. He was but a man after all. 

Helen sat upright again and wrapped her legs around Chris, scooting closer to the edge. Her lips very slightly grazed his, and he closed his eyes in expectation, but she didn’t kiss him - no, she bit his earlobe. Chris groaned now, and she felt a familiar twitch against the crotch of his jeans. She reached around her back then…

“On the contrary,” she whispered.

…and unclasped her bra.

“Je suis affamée.”

*

They had made quite a mess of themselves, and their breakfast was cold by the time they ate it, but neither of them would have changed a thing. They even managed to stay on time! It was a solid five hour drive to reach his family’s cabin, and the roads were dangerous this time of year, especially after the last few days of snow storm, so they wanted to make the most of what little daylight there was in December. 

They both ended up showering again, but with no time left to dry their hair they just shoved beanies on their head and called it good enough to make it to the car. Chris had a big car, an SUV with massive chained-up wheels, which Helen really appreciated in this weather.

They made idle chatter for the first two hours, just bantering and doing blind tests with the radio, discovering little things about each other. Helen had let her hair down to dry but Chris kept his beanie on until he wasn’t cold anymore - which took a while - but after a couple hours, he took it off.

Helen slapped her hand over her mouth.

“What?” Chris asked, briefly looking at her instead of the road. “What?” he asked again.

“Don’t tell me you have curly hair when you let it air dry,” Helen said, not asked. She was grinning from ear to ear.

Chris blushed but didn’t say a word.

“You do!” she exclaimed. “Why didn’t I know that?”

“Because we live in Norway, nobody lets their hair air dry, we would all die from exposure,” he replied, forgetting the part where he would have gladly taken this secret to his grave. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t think it suited him - he knew it suited him - but there was history. There were many, many family gatherings when he was small where various aunts and cousins pinched his cheeks and pulled his curls and called him cute. He didn’t want to be cute. No man wanted a beautiful woman to see him and immediately think ‘aw, cute’. His teenage rebellion came and went but he never returned to natural curls, that was just too much for him.

Granted, his curls had loosened a bit since then, but his hair had never become straight. Wavy, at best. Chris groaned and focused back on the road. 

“No, you’re right,” Helen said in a sigh. “You’re handsome enough as it is, if you went out like that I would have to physically fight off other women.”

“Don’t be mean, I didn’t have time to dry it.” He rolled his eyes.

“Mean?” she repeated. “I mean exactly what I said. Do you know I caught two freshmen looking at you like you were made of chocolate last week? I tried to stand in the way, but they just kept on staring at you right through me. Like I didn’t even exist.”

He scoffed. He had noticed her doing that, but he didn’t want to give those girls any credit and ignored it all. They had been waiting in line to buy movie tickets and he had better things to do, like for example, listening to his girlfriend trying to recount a trailer she’d seen in the most confusing possible way. He hadn’t understood a word of it, but had lovingly nodded nonetheless, happy if she was happy.

“Well, now it just feels like you’re stroking my ego,” he pointed out. “It’s fine, I’ll just blow dry my hair next time.”

“You’re not listening to a word I’m saying, mon coeur.” Helen shook her head, smiling to herself. Chris’ heart skipped a beat at the term of endearment. He had asked her what it meant the first time she used it, and it never failed to elicit a reaction out of him.

“Ok, what are you saying then?” he asked, trying again.

“I’m saying your curls are hot,” she answered, straight to the point. “I mean, you’re always hot, but if you’d looked like that the day we met, my God…” she trailed off.

And that was saying something, because she recalled reacting in the most mouse-like, undignified, blushing-virgin style way when she bumped into him for the first time.

“No, please go on. I’d like to know how that sentence ends,” he encouraged her and she poked him in the ribs. 

“I’ll make you a deal: you keep your hair like that the entire time we’re at the cabin, and I’ll show you how the sentence ends,” she offered, turning towards him.

His brows knitted and his lips twisted. It took him a minute of pondering before he answered.

“Sorry, but my parents will never let me hear the end of it if I do that. I’m afraid my mom’s going to send pictures to my grandparents to show them, and I really don’t wanna see that end up in the cousins group chat.”

Helen didn’t let them temper her mood.

“Alright, I hear you. But what if I sweeten the deal?”

“I’m listening, but don’t get your hopes up,” Chris laughed.

“What if…” she started, clearing her throat. “Every time you forget to blow dry your hair, I also conveniently forgot to wear my underwear?” 

Chris pulled the brakes and stopped the car in the middle of the road - they were completely alone and hadn’t seen another car in ages. There was no sound apart from the car’s low rumble and the soft christmas tunes on the radio. After a long while, Chris started the car up again.

“I’ll think about your offer, vennen.”

For a second he heard Andrea’s voice in his head, yelling at him for hesitating and ordering him to never ever blow dry his hair again, stupid family group chat be damned. He tended to agree with that little voice, but he didn’t like it so much that his inner voice now sounded like Andre of all people. 

Luckily, Helen changed the subject then.

“By the way, I know this might not be the best timing, but I wanted to give you this. It came in only yesterday and I wanted to wait until I returned from my trip to France, but well- that didn’t happen.” She dug an envelope out of her bag and laid it on the car’s dashboard.

“What is it?” Chris asked, curious but obviously unable to read it now. They still had short of three hours to drive. 

“It’s, ugh-” she cleared her throat. “These are my STI test results.”

The car pulled to a sudden stop again, nearly sending Helen out of her seat.

“What?!” Chris asked.

“You really need to stop braking like that,” she groaned, massaging her neck. “Calm down, it’s all completely negative, of course.”

He started breathing again then, apologizing for stopping in the middle of the road again and started driving once again.

Helen laughed a little at how white he was in the face.

“Ok, I take it this is not something people do in Norway?” she asked. “I didn’t know and I figured it didn’t hurt to do it, so voilà.”

“I’m so confused right now, why would you get tested if you knew you didn’t have anything?” Chris asked, trying to follow what she was saying while navigating the road’s sharp turns in the fading daylight. They were already pretty high up now, the roads were getting narrower.

“It’s just something I've always done, and that my friends do, too. When we get into a new relationship, and it’s getting serious, we get tested together. Even if we know we don’t have anything, it’s a gesture of good faith. It’s… I don’t know, respectful? It’s a way of showing the other person they are safe with you.”

She shrugged a little, Chris saw the slight pink in her cheeks and he almost regretted asking because he had made her feel embarrassed.

“You’ve never done it?” she finally asked him.

“No…” he trailed off. 

He was embarrassed too, now. Too embarrassed to admit he had never even considered having this thoughtful gesture towards one of his girlfriends. Truly, he had never considered any of his past relationships legit enough for anything like this. He had yet to tell her, but she was the first girl he’d let meet his parents, the first he brought home. 

He’d had way more one night stands than girlfriends anyway, and he didn’t really want to admit that to Helen either. She must have suspected it, though. 

“Hey,” she said, bursting his bubble. “I didn’t do it to make you feel bad, like I just didn’t know how to bring up the subject without sounding like I didn’t trust you, even though we’ve been using protection up until now, so I thought I’d do it first.”

“No, I get it. I just hadn’t thought of it.” Then, after a second, he added, “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Just say you’ll do it?”

“Of course, whatever you want,” Chris immediately promised her. 

“Thank you.” She leaned back against her seat, a weight visibly off her shoulders, and placed a hand on his thigh. “Sorry, that was an awkward conversation, but this letter was burning a hole through my bag, I couldn’t keep it from you until after Christmas. And I’m getting so tired of using condoms, too.”

Chris had to make a physical effort not to slam his right foot on the brakes again, but he wanted to look at her then, not at the road! 

Eyes still ahead, Chris asked, “...am I understanding that you got tested because you wanted to go raw?”

He simply didn’t know any classier way to ask this without dancing around the subject like a complete blushing virgin. 

“Well, obviously.”

Ok, seems like she was in a straightforward mood too. 

Again, the little Andre-like voice in his head started talking and this time, it was throwing a full-blown party in his skull. If his friend had heard any part of this conversation, he would have simply dropped dead where he stood. Not in a million years could he or Chris have imagined that the pretty, classy librarian would admit to wanting to go raw in the bedroom.

The sentence ‘lady  in the streets, freak in the sheets’ crossed Chris’ mind. All his nerve endings were on fire, he felt hot in the face and tingly all over. He just won the proverbial fucking LOTO. 

He had never ditched the condom, in fact he felt like it had been drilled into him since he was old enough to date that sex = condom. 

His little balloon of excitement popped then.

“But what if-” he didn’t finish his question because it felt dumb to ask and he felt even dumber for what his question implied. 

She looked at him, waiting for him to find his words.

“I mean, you’re taking…” Again, he didn’t finish, but she got the jist of it.

“I am. I have an implant,” she very kindly answered, smiling softly. 

Clearly she had had this kind of conversation before. Chris was at his wits’ end and there was so much driving left before they arrived. If they’d been on the highway, he would have stopped for a coffee. And maybe a cigarette. He hadn’t smoked since before the army.

Gathering all his courage, he blurted out what he wanted to ask in one breath.

“Isn’t it fallible? Isn’t it safer to use condoms?”

Thank all the gods night had started to fall, it hid most of his furious blushing. He repressed the urge to wipe his sweaty palms on his pants. Helen laughed.

“Condoms are the least reliable contraception. And if push comes to shove, we live in a country where abortion is legal and safe.”

How could she say all this with a straight face? How could she? Chris was so glad to be driving now, because it provided the perfect excuse not to meet her gaze and to look at the road instead. 

“Now, my turn to ask a question, and no judgment here-” she began, and Chris already hated where this was going. “If you’ve never been tested before, and you apparently haven’t researched female contraception that much, have you ever had sex without a condom?”

There was a long, long pause, during which Chris bit the inside of his cheeks raw, and wished he died right here, right now. Just died. Poof! In a cloud of smoke. 

“I-” Helen opened her mouth to say something, this lengthy silence having answered for him.

“You said no judgment!” he countered right away, raising a finger in her direction.

“I wasn’t going to,” she promised.

“Ok.” He breathed out. “Sorry, no, I’ve never not used a condom. I might be a whore but not a stupid one.”

Helen couldn’t help but laugh, and her laugh was infectious enough for Chris to finally relax and join her in her glee. He knew there was nothing to be ashamed of, but damn, he suddenly felt like a complete beginner. He might as well never have had sex, period. 

“That’s a great autobiography title, if nothing else,” she teased. “And don’t worry, we’ll get you tested as soon as we get back.” There was a dark glint in her eyes now, and the sly smirk on his lips sent a shiver down his spine. “Besides, we’ve haven’t really fucked until you come inside me for real.”

His foot flew to the brakes once more, the car stopping so abruptly it stalled. Helen was about to chastise Chris but he exited the car as soon as he killed the engine, and walked all the way to her side, opening the door.

“You drive now! I can’t do this anymore.”

*

Meeting her boyfriend’s parents was always in the cards, but Helen never figured it would happen so soon, and in such a formal setting. Spending Christmas together felt like a big step, and she didn’t even know if they were aware of her existence until then. Chris assured her he called them to let them know, he promised they would be nice, and that the cabin was beautiful.

It was, that was for sure. It was beautiful and big, and much, much more luxurious than anything Helen imagined when Chris first mentioned a cabin. She imagined they would need to keep a constant fire going, huddle up on the couch to keep warm, and sleep with their fuzziest socks.

But it clearly wasn’t that type of cabin. 

After an hour behind the wheel, Chris switched places with her again, because it was getting seriously dark, and he knew the way while she constantly had to look at the GPS. She had gasped and pointed at a series of houses up on the mountain when they neared the end of their trip. The lights were on, and suggested a massive construction.

“This isn’t it, is it?” she asked. “This must be a hotel.”

It was not a hotel. Her expression, eyes full of little stars, made him smile. He had forgotten what it did to see this for the first time, he had been coming here for his entire life. She almost didn’t believe him when he assured her that was the place they were going to.

“But we’re only four people, who rents such a massive place for four people?” she asked.

Chris winced. “Not a rental.” Helen’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.

“Looks like they arrived before us,” she observed nervously, looking up towards the light in the windows until they took a sharp turn that hid the cabin from view.

Chris’ eyes flitted towards the clock. No, it was too early.

“Unlikely, they usually arrive right before dinner.” It was only four in the afternoon, despite the pitch black outside. The joys of Winter know no end. 

“Are you going to make me ask why the light is on then, or are you going to tell me?”

“Hey, let me enjoy this!” he protested, mock-annoyed. “It’s not everyday I get to steal your breath away like this.”

“That’s not true, just come in through my window with your hair like this one night, and spend the night showing me how much you adore me. Let me wake up in your arms to once again see your little curls fall in front of your sleepy eyes, and I’ll forget how to breathe entirely.”

“I can’t tell if you’re making a sport out of giving me as many hard ons as you can over the duration of a single car drive, or if you’re genuinely the horniest girl I’ve ever met,” Chris mused.

Helen pursed her lips.

“I am kind of horny,” she admitted. “In a romantic way.”

“Oh, thank God! Here I thought you were just using me for my body.” Sarcasm came naturally but Helen made a funny face at him in answer. She remembered the time he confessed to her that he thought most women only considered him like a dildo attached to a body. A wave of protestation swelled in her breast and the words poured out before she could think better of it.

“Absolutely not! I love you for who you are!”

She slapped both her hands over her mouth as if by doing so, she could catch those words and push them back into her mouth, behind closed teeth.

But they were out there now, and they were greeted by heavy, uncomfortable silence.

[saltymongoose]

DUDE!! Bro self aware au with Christoff!!! He remembers you being there, witnessing his victory over Phobos, but then after that never felt you again. Maybe he has memory’s of the first game that you played?? Imagine his surprise when after 30 (i think?) years and he feels you with Hank? Also maybe when you fought alongside Hofnarr in the first game (idk if you could switch between them) so Hofnarr has felt you before and enjoyed your presence. Tricky doesn’t want it to leave tho, he wants to be used as well. Idk my mind’d giving me all these ideas

I meant to finish this yesterday but there was so much I wanted to add here (I could genuinely rant about Jeb for this au all day I swear). For anyone who hasn’t played the classic game, Subject 1v02P_6 refers to the original player character from Arena Mode (it’s just their default name). This is also very Jebus-centric cause it takes place in the flashback scenes and the second chapter of the classic game, so the next part will have a lot more Tricky to compensate. :D

[Part 1] The Player's First Meetings ft. Jebus & Hofnarr (+ Phobos)

(TW: Yandere, Obsessive Behavior, Mentions of Violence, Unwanted Worship from Phobos)

Jebus had first “met” you when he was still widely known as Dr. Christoff. He had just stepped into a hallway after being informed that Phobos wanted to see him, already trying to mentally prepare himself for whatever the Director would throw at him that time. (Dealing with Crackpot was bad enough, but Phobos’ ego was an even worse obstacle to overcome.)

He was ripped from his internal musings when a deep warmth sprouted from his chest, making him pause mid-step. It was unlike something he’d ever felt before, almost comforting as it spread through his form. He felt revitalized, no longer bogged down by the persisting exhaustion he had these past months. It was definitely suspicious, especially since it came out of nowhere.

At first he wondered if this was some sort of side-effect of his work (perhaps being in close proximity to the dissonance energy when assisting Hofnarr with the Divergence project?). But this was ruled out when the force that enveloped him nudged him to move.

Perhaps out of pure curiosity (or because the comfort you gave him didn’t make him want to resist) he surrendered to the instructions of this being. Weirdly enough, it seemed to want to take him to his intended destination anyways, navigating the Science Tower with ease. So you were intelligent.

His second theory was that you were a S-3LF, but that wouldn’t make any sense. As far as he knew, the Enmeshment program could only use S-3LFs to fill shells or provide additional experience through the memories said S-3LF had. But he had no signs of this, he still felt like himself. Just slightly disconnected, in a way.

He knew that he had encountered this presence before, but it was never this strong. That’s when the realization struck him.

Didn’t the original S-3LF, Subject 1v02P_6, report a warm feeling and a helpful being that assisted them in their training? They swore that it was the cause for their effectiveness in combat, but no one really believed them. (An otherworldly force doing that was unheard of, it couldn’t be true. Surely the Employers would’ve taken an interest in it otherwise. If only he knew.)

It was written off at the time as a side effect of the Enmeshment, but no one could really explain the weird feeling they got around them. Jebus himself had experienced it when briefly passing by them as they were sent to the testing room. Upon asking during a brief moment they were together in the same room, they answered that they called them the “Player”, someone who helped. But there wasn’t any time for them to elaborate on it, as they were soon escorted back to the test chamber to endure more waves of combat.

The individual who acted as the real basis for the entirety of Project Nexus had experienced this. Someone who was cited as perhaps the most successful, if not most powerful, of subjects who participated in the Nexus’ endeavors. If you could influence S-3LFs, you were probably the reason for their accomplishments. But why had you shown up now?

The longer he spent with you as you sent him through the tower, the more questions he formed. It’s obvious that you weren’t malicious-you had a lot of opportunities to wreak some havoc in the facility, but took none of them. You just assisted him with his current goal, which led to another thought. Would you help him deal with Phobos?

You were obviously powerful, and your work with 1v02P_6 showed that you definitely had some strategic knowledge. (You had directly contributed to them tearing through hundreds of waves of grunts after all.) He was sure that getting rid of the Director would be far easier with you by his side.

Jebus is a man of science, but he knows there’s something to be said about instinct. He tries to find a fault in your actions, but he can’t really doubt you. He doesn’t know very much about you as a whole, but his gut tells him that you’re trustworthy. That and your past work was enough for him. (It also helped that your presence felt so good. He hated to admit it, but he almost dreaded the moment you’d leave. Hopefully you’d be with him for a while.)

As he glanced down at the faint strings that tugged at his fingertips, he was filled with a strong resolve. The end of Phobos and Project Nexus was getting closer every second. It was up to you both to save Nevada, if no one else would.

(During that meeting with Phobos, he seemed a little more enraged than Jebus originally expected. Was his ego so fragile that being called out over Project Gestalt was all it took to get him so upset? Not that Phobos’ problems really mattered to him. Though, he was rather pleased when you directed him to punch Crackpot after he called him a coward. Seems you cared for him more than he thought.)

Hofnarr had first really heard about you from Christoff. It wasn’t hard to notice the different way he carried himself when he walked up to him after that meeting with Phobos. His posture lacked the tired slump that he’d come to associate with him, and any sign of tiredness was gone. Even the dark circles under his eyes were missing. That and the fact that he was exuding some sort of weird warmth. He was only gone for half an hour, what happened?

After Hofnarr was informed that it was time to set their plan to get rid of Phobos in motion, they discussed this new change his friend had undergone. Apparently that weird side effect from a few years back, with the first Enmeshment subject, wasn’t actually just a rare byproduct of a S-3LF being shoved into a clone. It was a being. Someone who made the conscious decision to involve themselves in their “vessel’s” life. According to Christoff, you’d be there to help them reach their goals. (Hofnarr found it odd that he spoke so fondly of you. It was like he thought of you as a close friend despite only knowing you for a short amount of time.)

Although, he did have to admit that your presence was a breath of fresh air. The labs in the Science Tower were always unsafe, and he always felt like he was walking on eggshells whenever he worked (maybe because Phobos was so volatile and the experiments were so inhumane). When he was around your vessel, he actually felt safe; your presence was cozy like an electric blanket. He wondered if this is what gave Subject 1v02P_6 the confidence to dive headfirst into wave after wave of enemies. It certainly boosted his mood to have you around.

(You thought their conversation about you was another interesting fourth wall break. Guess Sanford and Deimos weren’t the only ones who they wrote this in for. It was interesting how they brought your old character into it, you were so happy when you finally got them to level 100. Truly a proud parent moment.)

Much to Jebus’ disappointment, your presence faded soon after that conversation. He knew it was irrational, but he couldn’t help but question why you left. Did you find his plan too outlandish to work? He'd be happy to make any changes you thought were necessary. You were far superior to most grunts in intellect, after all. Perhaps you saw something he didn't?

(You had actually been taken out of the flashback sequence to return to the present timeline of your game. But he didn't know that, of course.)

He muddled over it the entire time you were gone, scrutinizing every detail of your encounter to find some evidence of your potential disapproval. He even started drafting new, perhaps more complex plans; ones that he hoped you would approve of. Maybe this was just your way of seeing if he was truly worthy of your help?

Hofnarr grew concerned at his friend's uncharacteristic restlessness. He had gone from probably the most relaxed he'd been in years to an agitated frenzy, muttering under his breath and going through sheets of paper as he hurriedly wrote sentence after sentence. (What he was writing, Hofnarr didn't know. His handwriting had never been so rushed and incomprehensible, seemed whatever problem he had was really affecting him.)

One thing Jebus did know is that your absence felt extremely unsettling. He had only spent a short amount of time with you but it was enough to get used to the comforting sensation you provided, and the fuzzy warmth that overtook his mind when you controlled his every move. Being left on his own after that was near torture; a part of him even wondered if this was a sort of divine punishment for the horrible acts he'd done for the sake of scientific progress.

However, it seemed like he didn't have to worry about it, for you returned a little bit later (after a few agonizing days). He had gone out into Nexus City with the intention of putting his original plan in motion. It was slightly rushed he had to admit, but it would be a good first effort to resist the Nexus and get you back.

Sheriff and Hofnarr were a bit shocked by his insistence at doing the plan sooner than expected, but they understood that Phobos had to be stopped. (If the shifting of the plan had anything to do with the discomfort of your absence, he didn’t speak of it. It was none of their business anyway.)

A small smile appeared on his face when he felt your presence returning, your strings flickering into existence and attaching themselves to his limbs. It seems he had your approval. Good.

However, this time it seemed like you wanted to express it a little more literally. He was taken aback when he heard a voice.

"Hey Jeb, good to be back with you again...Yeah, it's definitely been a while, hasn't it? Now, it's time to commence operation "Eradicate Phobos". Huh, I should rename the stream that. What do you think, chat?"

He genuinely appreciated your words, your clear support of him removed the weight on his shoulders. He even found himself chuckling at what you said. (As it happened, he also thought the cadence of your voice was very pleasant. He certainly wouldn't mind hearing you speak more. Especially if it was more praise for him.)

From then on, you were a constant figure, always there to lead him and provide your help. Your expertise made it painfully simple to sneak into the Deep Storage Access; the threat of security details and other scientists finding him was no match for your ingenuity as you steered him through the facility. He was actually quite impressed, but you had even more in store for him once he released the Zeds.

He was fully prepared for having to fight them on his own, but you were quick to take over yet again, nudging him to aim and fire at the enemies who targeted him. Jebus was a pretty good shot, but he'd never seen accuracy like yours before. (Even better was the fact that you spared the scientists who didn't show any hostility. The fact that you valued innocent life only made him grow fonder of you.)

For once, he truly recognized where the ability Subject 1v02P_6 possessed came from. The comfort of your presence matched with the care you showed him as you had him dodge and mow down hostiles made for an exhilarating experience. Even better were your constant comments of encouragement ("Yes! Smite them, the cretins!" "Damn, Jeb, we're unstoppable. Phobos better watch his back, huh?").

He started putting in additional work, perhaps with a bit of added flair, to really impress you. (Was it really a bad thing if he wanted you to know that your decision to help him was completely justified? Although perhaps a part of him wanted you to acknowledge that he was far more capable than anyone else in Nevada. Maybe then you wouldn't leave again.)

He and Hofnarr grew to adore you and everything you provided them with. While you never controlled the latter directly (something he was sorely disappointed at), simply feeling your warmth as you used Jeb as a vessel was enough. In the chaos they went through, you were always there to guide and comfort them. While they were in a lot of danger, going against the Nexus Core and all, they couldn't help but feel safe when you were there. After all, you always did your best to protect them, and your worried remarks showed that you felt the same way for them.

"Oh my go-Hofnarr no! Jeb, get their asses!" "Nonono, I won't let you die, not happening." "...Ah-ha! Good, there's a medkit, gotta make sure my favorite science boys are okay."

(Hofnarr turned bright red at that one, and Jeb stifled a cough with his hand to hide how flustered he was. Your favorites, huh?)

Hofnarr bid you and his friend good luck for the final time as they reached the Science Tower, slightly downtrodden that he'd have to leave your side so quickly. (He even said goodbye to you, much to your surprise. They really went heavy on the fourth wall breaks, didn't they? But you were sure to return the favor, along with your chat of course.)

However, neither he nor Jeb were particularly worried about what awaited him there. How could they be, when they had someone like you on their side?

In a morbid way, Jebus actually enjoyed fighting his way up the tower. There was something so fulfilling about working with you, perhaps it was the reassuring nature you had as you gave him the energy to press on (or maybe it was the longing for your further compliments that made him so eager to continue).

It all came to a head when he entered one of the upper chambers where Phobos happened to be. Immediately the Director turned to face him, immediately drawing his sword and pointing it at him.

"It's certainly bold of you to show your face again, Christoff. Especially after tricking them," he spat, "Yes, that's right. I know all about what you did to the Player. How dare you meddle with the affairs of a God!"

Now this caused Jebus to raise a brow. He'd never heard the Director speak with such open disdain before, but that could be excused. It was his mention of you that gave him some pause. How the hell did Phobos know about you? The Player was never mentioned in any reports. Was he the one responsible for the restriction of Subject 1v02P_6's files and the lack of talk about their so-called "side effects"?

Either way, it made him indignant. You were so kind and benevolent, the exact opposite of Phobos. You didn't deserve to have your title besmirched by the megalomaniac who stood in front of him.

"I wouldn't speak of them again, Phobos. They made their decision to join the side of Nevada against your tyranny. You're simply too foolish to understand that."

He did feel very a bit prideful that he had your support instead of the Director. If you were really a God, or something similar, this was a sign that he was definitely doing the right thing. Phobos may've had the Auditor, but he's willing to bet that you could defeat them together.

(You had been watching the interaction with rapt attention. It didn't surprise you that Phobos broke the fourth wall again, given his little insults to you whenever you paused. But it was a very odd thing to have him try to stand up for you after that. According to chat, this didn't happen when they played it. Maybe they updated it again and you just didn't catch the news?)

Phobos was about to start another tangent, but before he could, you nudged Jeb to take aim and fire at him. "I'm honestly kind of sick of hearing Phobos talk. Where was this attitude in the pause screen, you scrub?"

The Director paled. The Player was the only person who could've known about that, and it's not like Jeb would ever fake a voice to piss him off. It must've been his God who said that. A cold feeling of mortification overtook his senses. Oh no.

(Jeb actually laughed aloud at your comment (and at the small noise of pain and look of hurt Phobos made.) You were always a complete joy to be with.)

Fighting the Director that first time was easy, partly because the man was very conflicted over what had just happened. Eventually he just decided to turn tail and leave, shoulders slumping further as he heard you call out from behind him. "Who's the coward now, Phobos?!"

(He was hoping the little taunts would get you to notice him, but he didn't predict that you'd actually take them so seriously. Maybe he should start working on an apology? He doesn't know what to do without your approval. He felt almost nauseous as embarrassment ate away at him, thoughts running wild on how he should make this up to you. First, he had to deal with Christoff, of course, but after that, you'd be all alone together. The perfect opportunity for him to clear up any misdeeds he made.)

Meanwhile, you and Jebus fought through more waves of enemies, finally coming up on one of the sources of the Nexus' power. Your vessel smiled as he plucked the Halo from its pedestal, the excited cheers from you lightening his mood as power coursed through his veins. Finally, redemption.

Defeating the grunts who got in his way was easy before because he had your help, but it didn't truly hold a candle to what you both could do with the Keystone Fragment. Not gonna lie, your excitement at the Nexus Bolts was very kind of adorable to him. (If he pushed the Halo to its limit to make as many as possible just for your amusement, he's sure it could take it. There were few who knew the artifact as well as he did, after all.)

This time, when Jebus managed to gain access to Phobos' office in the Solarium, he was greeted by the sight of the Director's back as he stared out the window. He drew his gun and took a cautious step towards him. It wasn't unlike Phobos to make traps instead of fighting himself.

"...I am truly sorry for the comments I've made towards you. Had I known that they would come off that way, I wouldn't have said them. I understand how far your power extends." He turned to Christoff, who made a noise of disgust. Where was he going with this?

"For all the time that I've ruled over the Nexus Core and this city, all the progress I've made has been for you. I'd have hoped that this would be enough to prove my devotion, but I understand. I would also require my best subject to prove their loyalty," he chuckled fondly. "You and I are the same after all, my Player."

Truly the ravings of a lunatic, Jebus thought to himself. As if you would be swayed by him of all people. (Although your silence at his words did concern him. Perhaps you found them unsettling, he certainly would be weirded out to have someone like Phobos admire him. He'd put an end to it. The last thing he'd want was for someone he genuinely cared about to be uncomfortable.)

Having grown agitated by the Directors nonsense, he gathered a ball of dissonant energy in his palm. In a simple motion, he then extended his arm, firing the bolt right into Phobos' torso. The tall grunt gasped in pain before whipping around, pulling out the Binary sword and rushing head on to meet the Savior.

The Nexus grunts who entered the room (no doubt curious about why the Director suddenly decided to abandon the plan of ambushing the scientist) were shocked to find their boss already fighting, swinging his blade relentlessly at their enemy as the other grunt dodged and fired back.

A few agents just straight up left (they weren't getting paid enough to get involved in whatever that was). Those who remained and tried to intervene were either blown away by Jebus or sliced to pieces by their own Director (who ordered the rest to stand aside). "This is my test!" He growled, "Stay out of it, worms!"

After a long fight (you didn't remember the last level being this taxing), you'd managed to chip Phobos' health down to a sliver. Jebus looked down at the fallen Director with a sneer, who glared defiantly back at him. "They'll punish you for this. Acolytes shouldn't be killed, you know."

Christoff scoffed. Even as blood began to leak from the bandages over his mouth, Phobos still found the need to grandstand. He felt you nudge him to pull out his gun, something he was all too happy to do. Pointing the barrel down at the menace, he gave a final farewell. "We'll see about that. Goodnight, Phobos." A single gunshot rang out. Good riddance.

(You could only look down at the screen with complete shock as the epilogue played. All that talk about the player was...unexpected. You turned to your camera, confusion swirling in your eyes. "So...did anyone else get that ending?")

[nevadas-night-time-novelist]

Updated list of headcanons about the main 4 SQ dudes

> HANK

Henry 'Hank' James Wimbleton He / Him / They / Them AMAB Heteroromantic Asexual Caucasian, 50s [Grunts age differently to humans, still considered in peak health <the Frankenstein-ing helps too>] Raised with Hunter {Skittles, older}, Heather {White, twin} and Hercules {Pink, younger} Abusive parents, physical and emotionally abusive, left with Heather when their parents kicked her out for being trans and taken in by Hunter. Clinically diagnosed as a psychopath, insomniac, autistic. They send money to Skittles to help pay for his peaceful lifestyle as a thank you for helping them as a teen. Will fight with Heather, but still loves her, very competitive since they're twins, but he's slightly stronger. Kicks Pank's ass on sight because he's an entitled princess, hostile relationship. He has a secret knack for art, and spends his down time painting animals, his trauma / memories, and horror movie icons. They also play guitar, fight with their sister, and spend time with Skittles.

>DEIMOS

Deimos Romero He / Him Transgender male, Bi Mexican+Asian american, 27 Only child Possibly ADHD (I don't know enough on ADHD to make a clear judgement) Born into the agency, adopted by Doc after his single mother died while having him, and his father was unknown. Life as a baby agent wasn't easy, but Doc managed to keep part of his brain open for free thinking so he wasn't totally brainwashed and indoctrinated. Doc helped him come to terms with being trans and helped him transition. Loves his mama even if he never met her personally, keeps her spirit alive in his own, celebrates Dia De Los Muertos and makes a nice little alter for her. Tinkers with guns and tech in his free time, as well as gaming, smoking, and going on dates with Sanford.

>SANFORD T. Sanford He / Him Cisgender, Gay African american, 32 Single mama, 5 siblings Clinically depressed The oldest of 6 kids, Fordie had a hand in helping raise his younger sibs, he puts his family before everything and everyone. Momford taught him responsibility and to be strong, she's his number 1 role model. He worked odd jobs until teaming up with a militant force, only loyal to money and nothing else, which he'd send back home to his Mom. Doc managed to come across his name a few times, and manged to tempt his favour with decent and continued payments, but over time he found himself really bonded to Deimos. He spends his free time cooking, working out, fixing up guns and working under the car, usually with Deimos. He likes to dedicate at least one day every two weeks for a date, if possible. His dog tags simply say T. Sanford, he refuses to tell almost anyone his first name, but Momford calls him Teddy, because he's big and soft like a teddy bear.

>2BDAMNED

Kyle [He doesn't use a last name to protect his identity] He / Him Cisgender, Demisexual / Sapiosexual [Attracted to intelligence above all else] Asian american, late 40s/early 50s No history known Former Nexus, met Dr. Christoff during his tenure there and became acquaintances. Left and joined the agency shortly before Phobos' death. He took a lover, Esmeralda Romero, in secret which resulted in Deimos being born. Only two people know of this fact, and one of them is dead. He doesn't have any plans to tell anyone else. Inspired to fight back against dictators, he's of the mindset that everyone is out to use you for some purpose, and you have to look out for yourself, and what few people you can trust. Ultimately he wants to protect Nevada and eventually restore it to some sense or normalcy, as impossible as a task as that seems. He raised Deimos from birth, teaching him how to take care of himself, knowing that he's a marked man, and many want him dead. He loves Deimos as his son, respects Sanford for his hard and loyal work, and trusts Hank will do as commanded.

His list of trusted people is small, and his list of friends is even smaller.

[ashlynniis-bracketeers]

LAWJACKER {Ben 10/Madness Combat}

...Hello hello hello my dudes. How about a weird-ass crossover for your time? My explanation for this is that I've been on a bit of a Ben 10 kick lately (The Ink Tank keeps on appearing in my damn recommended lmao), and considering my current Madness Combat fixation... You get the picture. I decided to go more in line with the OS style, being that's what I have the best memories with (and I've honestly never been a fan of UA/AF's style). How he got unlocked this dude (save for it already being in the Omnitrix somehow)? No damn clue. Had some help from someone on Discord for the name: Other names I faffed around with were "Lawbreaker" and "Lawless". Either way, wonky to figure out what a 10 y/o would call this bundle of floaty limbs and murderous rage. Oh, he'll jack-up the law alright...

Info time! Prepare for a fuckton of text! Fokkit, have a read more-

Name: Lawjacker

Species: [UNKNOWN DESIGNATION]

Species Original Planet: Earth

DNA Donor: [UNKNOWN]

Omnitrix Location: Chest (10 y/o), Forehead (Ben 10,000)

Physical Qualities:

- Silvery-grey skin, texture of which feels similarly to clay. Skin is less elastic than human skin.

- Strange amount of similar-to-human characteristics, such as the ability to grow a beard.

- Four-fingered hands which seem to float from the body. Lacks proper shoulders as a result. Hands can only be taken so far away from the body without sustaining damage (signified by bleeding where the wrists would be) and forcing him to return to human form.

- Lack of ears and nose (and hair when younger). On face is a strange feature dubbed a "Facial cross" that seems to be over where the center of his face would be, intersecting down where the nose would be. Does have eyes and a mouth, though is capable of hiding either or both without inhibiting senses and the ability to speak, revealing eyes the same shade of green as his human form and his mouth having more pronounced canines.

- Extremely small (possibly nonexistent, further testing needed) legs combined with proportionally large feet. Surprisingly acrobatic and agile.

- Lack of distinction between neck, torso, and where the hips would be. Body shape is akin to that of a tube or column.

- Physically sexless (Though seems to lean masculinely, with a deeper voice and retaining the beard from Ben 10,000's base human form)

- Surprising physical strength despite lack of proper arms, capable of throwing blunt objects with enough force for them to easily pierce flesh.

- Keen physical reflexes and large amounts of endurance. High pain threshold and tolerance.

- More pronounced claws in older age

- Strangely reactive blood. Species normally has bright red blood akin to humans, but it can greatly and permanently change color in response to genetic tampering with the host. "A.T.P." units are a well-known example, having yellow blood from gene-altering for increased durability and physical strength, among other things. In the case of the Omnitrix's sample, tampering for optimal physical and mental status has conditioned Lawjacker to have green blood the color of the Omnitrix-wielder's eyes.

Mental Qualities:

- Sense of humor is noticeably off-color compared to wielder's usual humor.

- Keen reflexes, comparable to a "sixth sense" for sensing danger and watching eyes.

- Nature is immensely violent and aggressive. Coupled with his ability to sense incoming/possible danger, leaves him seemingly perpetually on-edge and often leads to immensely erratic behavior.

- Seemingly innate skill in combat and with weaponry in general. Melees, slug-throwers, energy weapons, bare hands. Oftentimes seen mixing acrobatics with weapon prowess and switching between weapons with ease, along with being prone to throwing his weapons.

- Sensitive to the presence of unnatural psychic phenomena, which this form consistently refers to as "Dissonance". This is most intense when in the presence of outright magic and other bizarre reality-altering phenomena.

- Sensitive to the scent of smoke. Particular form shows immense disdain for it.

- Not emotionally sensitive to the sight of brandished weaponry, immense violence, or gore.

- High pain tolerance.

Strengths:

- Very difficult to get the drop on. Keen senses mixed with being able to sense the presence of others and watching eyes.

- Agile and acrobatic despite bizarre anatomy. Coupled with physical strength, keen senses, and prowess with combat and weapons makes him a difficult combatant head-on.

- Floating hands, though not capable of reaching far, can still be used to bypass obstacles that would be impassable with attaching lengths getting in the way.

- High pain tolerance mixed with violent nature makes his onslaughts difficult to deter.

Weaknesses:

- Not the most diplomatic. Antsiness mixed with general aggressive nature and off-color sense of humor makes him not fit for non-violent negotiation unless being brought in for mere intimidation.

- Though has a high pain tolerance and threshold, is comparatively fragile compared to other aggressive heavy-hitters. Less-elastic skin is prone to being easily torn. Comparatively a glass cannon.

- Aggressive nature and pain tolerance means that they often don't know when to quit and retreat from a life-threatening encounter

- Not as flexible as a normal human, especially in the leg/feet area.

Outfit(s):

10 y/o : Black jumpsuit with a white stripe down the middle attached to a white ring around the Omnitrix on the chest. Black shoes and gloves, black goggles with bright green lenses.

Ben 10,000 : White jumpsuit with a long, black jacket over it. Jacket has a white stripe down the middle and around the bottom edge, along with a white ring mark around the neck/shoulders area. Most of the time wears a black-and-white bandanna around bottom of face, and wears similar green-lensed goggles to his 10 y/o outifit. Omnitrix location on forehead has synthetic growth over top of head connected by white wiring. Wears metal armor over front, held up by straps. Has black fingerless gloves and black shoes with pointed, upturned toes.

Design Notes (Meta Content):

- I used OS designs as reference

- I wanted to retain the primarily-dark color palette of normal MadCom designs. I ended up using designs like OS XLR8 and Diamondhead as reference. The "white stripe on black uniform" look ended up fitting even with Ben 10,000, as his older human design had a black shirt with a white stripe which contrasted young Ben.

- I originally wasn't sure what to but on young Ben's head/face, but eventually decided on goggles like Hank. Other lenses and head wrappings didn't work, and having nothing there felt weirdly naked.

- I referenced off of Jebediah Christoff for the armor on Ben 10,000. I originally attempted more head wrappings to go along with the bandanna akin to Hank, but it felt too cluttered and didn't want to cooperate.

- Ben 10,000 is holding a tablet like 2BDamned.

- 10,000 Lawjacker has claws akin to MAG Agents and how Krinkels has drawn DedmosRebuild Deimos.

- Figuring out the shade of green to use for the lenses/eyes was a massive pain in the ass. The green color did not stay consistent between aliens/characters in OS lmao.

- I gave 10,000 Lawjacker wires on his forehead Omnitrix like how it looks on his wrist in human form, implying that it's growing into him. Thought it fit the grungy-looking feel of regular MadCom.

- I used the sharp toe shoe design from the MadCom fangames illustrated by MindChamber (Madness Regent, Madness Accelerant, Madness Hydraulic) for Ben 10,000 because I thought it looked cool. I originally thought about doing it for 10 y/o Lawjacker, but it ended up looking out-of-place.

- I did the remark about disliking smoke because... you know what tends to happen to smokers in MadCom, right? >8}

- Ben 10,000's chest armor kicked my ass lmao

This took me way too damn long. I hope you like it!

[huebris808]

Dr. Hofnarr’s Horrible, No-Good, Very Weird 15 Years Of Being Dead.

a tribute to fanon interpretations/character study(?) that was going to be a bonus chapter in a post-canon/au comedy fic im working on! might come back to expand on this when i do start posting it (or if mpn gives him more background story lore that i’ll have to work with aoAHGHOAUGH)

happy madness day! :o)

“Where should I begin… Perhaps at the very beginning? OH! Christoff and I first met years before our Nexus days! Back in our freshman years of college, to be precise! You know, I was actually a theater major before switching to- ... A-Aah, too far back. Much too far... Let’s start from the point where the notes I supplied to you ended then, shall we? After our dissension...”

.. “Good luck, old friend...” ..

The first years on the run from Nexus was stressful to say the least. Hofnarr and Christoff had split up to better their chances of survival. He knew the process would be grueling, having talked to Christoff almost every night about it to calm his nerves. While he played calm for the cameras, Hofnarr truly wished he could have held him close one last time. No communications. No physical contact. Day after day, month after month, nothing. He would be separated from his husband for a very long time…

It wasn’t all bad after a while. He had a comfortable new apartment, went under a new alias, and his questionable new job paid him enough to buy food. His apartment even had cable! He could watch marathons of Slaughter Time whenever he got home! In hindsight, he wondered if that had an effect on his mental state at the time...

Hofnarr had taken the last of his S3LF regulator with him, having shipped them out to an undisclosed location prior to dissension. Dissonance exposure did a number on him and his research team, leaving them to track their “normality” through daily blood tests and injections. While they met their fates early on, Hofnarr had gotten lucky. That is, until the doses began to run out.

Stressful as it was, he knew what he had to do. Hofnarr rushed back to what remained of the labs, knowing it had been abandoned by now. It was ironic, he and Christoff’s work, the work that was turned against them, was the one thing keeping him alive. For days, he worked to make more doses from the materials he brought with him. But there was only so much he could do with limited supplies… Hofnarr made many attempts to prolong the inevitable, lowering his dosage amount, injecting it weekly rather than daily, but he eventually ran dry. 

Refusing to turn to darker alternatives, he felt the only thing he could do at this point is record his final findings through video logs.

“It was… interesting revisiting the footage, to put it nicely. Christoff had actually kept the video files on a drive after he originally found all my things in the lab! I barely remembered what happened back then, so I rewatched them out of curiosity.”

On the first night, Hofnarr recorded a message for Christoff. One filled with sorrow, but also with gratitude. For the time that they spent together. How special he made him feel. All the memories they made together...

On the next, he recorded a log detailing his findings during Project Nexus. The effects of dissonance, the Other Place, what it did to him and his colleagues, everything and anything he could.

The next, he reported on the progression of his symptoms. Fever, brain fog, insomnia, joint pain. He felt like his organs were melting, his skin bursting at the seams.

The next night he saw something and remembered. Scars. The scars on his head. That week he was in the staff hospital. He thought it was a dream but the scars were there. Phobos. Director Phobos brought him somewhere that week. He knew he felt off when he woke up in the office that night. He knew something was off when Christoff asked him where he was. He thought he passed out from over-working. That bastard Phobos. Nausea was replaced with rage as he began to scream, his throat becoming raw. What did he put in him? What the hell did he put inside him!?

On the last recorded log, he was face-down on the ground. Groaning as his body occasionally convulsed. Until the video feed eventually cut off.

His body would lay there dormant, dead, for fifteen years. 

But to Hofnarr, he felt like he was dreaming.

.. “LET’S GIVE IT UP FOR OUR NEXT CONTESTANT!” ..

“Huh?” The doctor sat up and looked around, the area around him pitch black. Wasn’t he sleeping just a moment ago? He got up and took a step forward in the seemingly endless void. “H-Hello? Who’s out there?”

“AWW, DON’T BE SHY NOW! ESTEEMED AUDIENCE, A BIG ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR OUR GUEST; THE UNFORTUNATE DOCTOR HOFNARR!”

A light shined down on him from above. A crowd seemingly began to cheer all around him. He was in the center of what looked like a talk show set. Hofnarr awkwardly scratched the corner of his face. “‘Unfortunate’? W-What do you mean? W-Who are you?”

“FIGHT FIRST, ASK QUESTIONS LATER!” The voice above him called out again. “AFTER ALL, IT’S…!” Hofnarr drowned out the noise while trying to think. It sounded familiar. Like it came from…

Hofnarr’s thoughts were cut short. He looked down at his torso. Terror set in as he recognized an entire stop sign had been lodged through his chest.

“DON’T GET COLD FEET NOW! THE SHOW’S ONLY JUST BEGUN!” 

The words echoed in Hofnarr’s mind as he frantically tried to pull it out, his vision growing muddled, his hands slipping with blood until…

He blinked.

No stage. No sound. No pain.

Nothing around except for a single white door in front of him.

He stood up again, cautiously reaching for the doorknob.

When he entered he seemed to be in a vintage styled home. It was a kitchen with checkerboard flooring, a table with two chairs, and cheerful music playing through a small radio. It smelled of pastry and medical equipment. Suddenly, there was a knock coming from the door. A familiar voice called from behind it.

“I’m home, dear.” “J-Jeb?!”

Hofnarr rushed towards the front door. Christoff wasn’t trapped here too, was he? “Jeb! W-where are we!? What is this place? What happened to-”

As he opened the door, the clapping returned.

His husband was there, briefcase in hand, his face replaced with a black hole dripping with an unknown inky substance.

He slowly began to back away as “Jeb” moved closer.

The applause, the laughter, was deafening.

Before he could question or run away, Hofnarr was hit by something. His vision blurred, but refocused to be face-to-face with something. It seemed to be a shadow of himself. He tried to run again, but was pinned down by his doppelganger. The clone raised a clawed hand above him and then...

Like waking from a nightmare, Hofnarr quickly sat up once again. He gasped for air, dripping with cold sweat.

Was this really happening? Was it finally over? Was he free?

And then the spotlight focused on him again.

“It… got very surreal. Despite fight after fight, death after painful death... I would suddenly be somewhere else! There was a gameshow, our old apartment, a cat cafe, a... strip club of sorts, a tea room filled with these small armless doodles I used to draw on my research notes trying to offer me snacks… One time there was a sort of singing contest, but I won’t bore you with the details of that one. But when I wasn’t in those places, I felt like I was fighting for my life. It felt like an eternity! And the strangest part of it all? It… it became addicting.”

At first, he felt as if Hofnarr used all of his energy, physical and emotional, to fight back. It reminded him too much of his escape from Nexus. But as time went on, he focused less on escaping and more on surviving. The more he fought, the more he began to lose himself. He was anticipating what sudden whiplash of combat would be thrown at him next. He chuckled at the thought of what excitement would be heading his way. He wanted more. The fights became too slow. Too predictable. Too boring. He began toying with whatever was thrown at him. Turning his shadowy hunters into the hunted. Why let his audience watch the same old fights all the time?

Suddenly, the fighting stopped.

Why? 

He was having fun, wasn’t he? He grew impatient.

“WHAT’S THE HOLD UP!” He yelled into the void, seething with anger. “AREN’T WE SUPPOSED TO BE FIGHTING? ISN’T THAT WHAT I’M HERE FOR?!”

He stomped his foot down, lodging something out of the ground.

The stop sign.

He looked over it curiously. How familiar…

Grabbing hold of it, quick flashes of memories appeared to him.

Nexus, the Science Tower, Phobos, the Other Place… 

A man with long hair standing next to...

Hofnarr… 

Who was that? Was that him?

No…

Only Tricky remained.

Footsteps echoed throughout the halls of the abandoned lab. Heels quickly clicking, cautiously stopping every so often. A lone Nexus Core agent entered through one of the doors.

Perfect timing.

“HAY! YOU THERE!!” A voice stuttered and glitched out, reverberating through the emptiness of the lab. The quickly soldier whipped their head around. “YEAH! YOU, STUPID. PLAY WITH ME!!”

“Who’s there?” The agent pointed their magnum towards the noise. “Show yourself!”

Gladly. The cackling figure emerged from the shadows, posing with a peace-sign, causing the agent to recoil. He grinned, slowly moving towards the cowering goon on the ground. They wouldn’t stand a chance.

“Who are you!?”

They couldn’t kill him.

“FIGHT FIRST. ASK QUESTIONS LATER! AFTER ALL…” 

CAN’T KILL CLOWN.

“IT’S MURDER TIME!”

..

“My body had been there, regenerating and repeating the enmeshment process for years. And by the time I woke up, I was a completely different person. I became a creature of unfiltered impulse… A personification of chaos itself.”

The room grew silent before Hofnarr spoke up again.

“I-Is it horrible to say it was… kind of cool?” He said with a nervous chuckle, twiddling his fingers.

2BDamned was quiet for a moment. They recalled the many times they had to stitch their comrades back together due to Clown Moments. They placed their head in their palms and let out a sigh.

“... You have the right to your own opinion.”

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

BONUS: songs i was listening to on loop while working on this instead of doing my damned writing assignment. Enjoy

lady gaga ft. dorian electra - replay

vestik - tricky's vengeance ft. monocronic

[singing-show-alums]

Singing Shows and Eurovision: Sweden 🇸🇪 (Introduction)

I know it’s been a loooooooonnnnnnggggg time since I’ve posted anything on here, but that’s about to change. This is the start of a new series I’m planning to do on this blog, and I will be reblogging these on my Eurovision side blog, @american-eurovision-nerd. Some say that the Idols format was, in part, inspired by Eurovision. And although the Idols format has fallen in popularity in recent years, artists who first made their name on the format have found their way onto the Eurovision stage, a stage that has made and broken many a singer over its six decades of existence. I’ll be profiling different singing competition formats, specifically Idols, The X Factor, and The Voice, the countries where one or more of those formats may be popular, and their contributions to Eurovision.

In my first posts of this series, I’m going to be profiling what is likely the most successful country when it comes to Idols alums crossing over into Eurovision: Sweden 🇸🇪.

Sweden first began airing its version of Idols, Idol ____ (the blank there because the official title of the show uses the year that each season is taking place), in 2004 with Daniel Lindström crowned its first winner. Since then, it has run for 17 seasons, taking a one-year break in 2012 when The X Factor aired instead. The X Factor Sweden was canceled after one season and Idol 2013 returned the following year. Over 17 seasons, 12 men and 5 women have won Idol Sweden (and women have never won in back-to-back years on this particular version).

The male winners are: Daniel Lindström, Markus Fagervall, Kevin Borg (the only Idols winner to ever come from Malta), Erik Grönwall, Jay Smith, Kevin Walker, Martin Almgren, Liam Cacatian Thomassen, Kristoffer Kläfford, Sebastian Walldén, Tusse Chiza (originally from the Democratic Republic of the Congo), and Birkir Blær (full name Birkir Blær Óðinsson, who is originally from Iceland).

The female winners are: Agnes Carlsson, Marie Picasso, Amanda Fondell, Lisa Ajax, and Nadja Holm.

Some American readers may recognize Erik Grönwall (who appeared as Simon Zealotes in NBC’s concert production of Jesus Christ Superstar) and Christoffer Kläfford (who would later compete on America’s Got Talent in 2019, where he made it to the Semifinal rounds before being eliminated).

This particular version of Idols has also produced a whole bunch of non-winning alumni who have gone on to great success, thanks in no small part to Melodifestivalen. Melodifestivalen (Swedish for “The Melody Festival” or “The Song Festival”) is the Swedish national selection competition to choose its entry for Eurovision. It was first staged in 1959, for Sweden’s second Eurovision appearance (its debut the previous year is the only time that Sweden has ever used an internal selection to select its Eurovision entry), and since then Melodifestivalen (also affectionately known to fans worldwide as “Melfest” or “Mello”) has taken place almost every year except for three: 1964 (cancelled due to an artists’ strike, which led to Sweden withdrawing from Eurovision that year), 1970 (when the Nordic countries boycotted Eurovision over the 1969 Contest ending in a four-way tie with four winners crowned because there was no tiebreaker), and 1976 (due to protests arising after Sweden hosted the 1975 Contest; Sweden ultimately withdrew from the 1976 Contest and returned the following year). Melfest for much of its history has made stars of up-and-comers and has either validated established stars or nearly ended their careers. Melfest has produced a total of six Eurovision winners (four of those coming before Idol’s debut in Sweden) and 24 Top Five placings at the Contest.

So...with that out of the way, let’s take a look at how many Idol Sweden alums have gone to Melfest, and then we’ll cover the Idol alums who have actually won Melfest more in depth. We’ll be looking at the overall alums season by season, with those reaching the Melfest Final at least once in bold. Those who also won Melfest are in bolded italics. The highest finishing contestant from each season is listed first, followed by finalists and then semifinalists (if any). All alums listed went to Melfest as performers. If they competed at Melfest under a stage name, it will be shown in parentheses.

Season 1 (2004): Darin Zanyar (Darin), Lorén Talhaoui (Loreen)

Season 2 (2005): Agnes Carlsson, Sibel Redžep, Måns Zelmerlöw, Ola Svensson

Season 3 (2006): Erik Segerstedt, Danny Saucedo (Note: both competed once as part of the trio E.M.D., and each competed at least once more as a solo artist)

Season 4 (2007): Daniel Karlsson (The Moniker), Mattias Andréasson (Note: as part of E.M.D. as well as solo), Christoffer Hiding

Season 5 (2008): Alice Svensson, Robin Bengtsson, Anna Bergendahl, Loulou Lamotte (Note: as both a backing singer for John Lundvik and as part of The Mamas, a group formed from those singers), Linda Pritchard

Season 6 (2009): Mariette Hansson, Eddie Razaz

Season 7 (2010): Andreas Weise

Season 8 (2011): Robin Stjernberg, Molly Pettersson Hammar (Molly Hammar)

Season 9 (2013): No contestants from this season have appeared in Melodifestivalen as of 2022.

Season 10 (2014): Lisa Ajax

Season 11 (2015): Martin Almgren, Axel Schylström

Season 12 (2016): Liam Cacatian Thomassen (LIAMOO), Rebecka Karlsson, Renaida Braun

Season 13 (2017): Hanna Ferm

Season 14 (2018): Kadiatou Holm Keita (Kadiatou), William Stridh, Natalie Brydolf

Season 15 (2019): Tusse Chiza (Tusse)

Season 16 (2020): No contestants from this season have appeared in Melodifestivalen as of 2022.

Season 17 (2021): No contestants from this season have appeared in Melodifestivalen as of 2022.

If you’re keeping count, Idol Sweden has produced 32 Melodifestivalen contestants, 7 Melodifestivalen winners, and among those 7 winners, 2 of them went on to win Eurovision: Loreen and Måns Zelmerlöw.

So, in order of their appearances on Idol (and in the case of season 5, the order they won Melfest), we’ll be learning a little more about those 7 alums who have gone on to win Melodifestivalen and grace the Eurovision stage. For each one, I will include a pic from their Idol run and a pic from their Eurovision appearance.

This series will be spread out over three posts: the first post will cover Loreen and Måns Zelmerlöw, who both appeared on Idol Sweden earliest in its run as well as won Eurovision. The second post will cover the three Season 5 alums who have gone on to win Melodifestivalen a combined four times: Anna Bergendahl, Robin Bengtsson, and Loulou Lamotte. The third and final post in this series will cover the two alums who competed latest in Idol Sweden’s run to win Melfest: Robin Stjernberg and Tusse Chiza.

You won’t have to wait long for Part 1, as it will be posted (and hopefully reblogged to my Eurovision side blog) tomorrow to mark the First Semifinal of Melodifestivalen 2022! The other two parts will each be posted on the next two Saturdays after that.

Stay tuned for Part 1!

[ashleyvbaird]

Refined Podcast Script

After submitting my Work in Progress assignment, I continued on my podcast script, adding and refining details of it. I am now happy with what I have in terms of content and am ready to record. I am going to record the entire podcast over, scrapping the first 2 and half minutes I submitted as my Work in Progress, due to the fact I had Covid when recording that and sounded terrible!

I aim to have the podcast recorded next week which should give me ample time to then edit, add music, find a way to host it on Spotify, add my cover art and finish it to a high standard. My only concern is that the podcast may be under 10 minutes, compared to my initial idea that it would be 10-15 minutes, however, I don't want to add things in just for the sake of making it longer. So for now I am happy with my script and don't think I will make any changes, unless it turns out to be extremely short in length.

Below is the another snippet of my script (I would include the entire script but its over 1000 words and you'll hear it soon enough anyway):

And to reiterate how incredibly life changing Narcan can be, I will now share a story that has come out of America about a 16-year-old whose life was saved by Narcan. In September of 2021, Sofia Christoff took a Percocet pill, unaware that it was laced with fentanyl. Her father, Ryan Christoff found her in her bedroom unresponsive and barely breathing. He immediately called 911 and performed chest compressions until help arrived. Body-cam footage shows Sergeant David Cohen entering the home and taking over the chest compressions, asking Sofia’s father if she takes narcotics. To the fathers knowledge she hadn’t, but with the Sergeants experience and his assessment of Sofia’s situation he quickly administered Narcan. Him doing so saved her life. Within seconds her breathing started again and she was taken to a hospital where she was monitored for some hours before being released. Sergeant Cohen was later interviewed, saying that if it's not needed and you use Narcan, there will be no harm caused. But if it is needed and you use it, it's only going to do good. This story of survival is just one of thousands, however, not everyone's story ends as Sofia’s did. Countless individuals lose their lives to Fentanyl, with over 100,000 deaths in the US alone last year, which is why it is so important that 1) we know about Narcan and how it works and 2) we have access to Narcan. Because we can change that number. We can bring the number of deaths down by a myriad. Narcan can change that number. 

That concludes this episode of Dropping the F Bomb, a podcast in partnership with the Be Safe Not Sorry campaign. We hope that you have learnt something from this conversation and that you share this knowledge with those around you. If after all of this information you are still eager to know more be sure to check out besafenotsorry.co.nz, which has a whole lot more info as well as links to helplines. Really it's got every resource you might need so be sure to check that out and we’ll see you next time. 

[allmywardensaresafeandsound]

oc interview meme

Tagged by @keeperscompanionsdai ! (thank you <3 )

Tagging mhnnhnnn .... i don’t know many people sorry *looks into notifications* : @aelorha @whereismywarden @kingdomofferelden @wardenofmyheart

I’ll introduce Ilamar! pre-Inquisition/beginning of Inquisition (my Inquisitor isn’t very talkative, she’ll let her brother handle the interviews)

1.What is your name?

Ilamar Hammond, at your service.

2. What is your real name?

My mother’s last name is Taynnis, or maybe is was her Clan’s name. I got called “Illyas” a lot too, once. I don’t consider any of those names more “real” than the one I took from my sister, but if you do feel it makes for a more accurate answer, be my guest.

3. Do you know why you were called that?

I do not know who chose the name “Ilamar�� for me, nor it interests me much. I have been legally adopted into the Hammond family, and this is why I’m recognized as one. As of why Domine Cornelio used to call me “Illyas” I don’t really know, he was a fantasist like that.

4. Are you single or taken?

Hardly ever alone, but not taken by any means, no.

5. Have any abilities or powers?

Well, I’m tend to be naturally well-liked. Easily desired, truly. Well, naturally as it comes to people like me, that is. The term “abomination” is sometimes employed I believe. Some would call it manipulation, but it is much more pleasant and rewarding to achieve one’s goal with just the effort of the right word or the right touch, don’t you believe? Not to say that I’m not a skilled assassin as well.

6. Stop being a Mary Sue.

Who would you like me to be, then?

7. What’s your eye color?

I was born with gray eyes, but now they are usually yellow. 

8. How about your hair color?

Gray. Something of a bastardized version of my mother’s pure white I believe.

9. Have you any family members?

My sister, Catherina, and her parents, Christoff and Eva Hammond. My mother is also alive somewhere, probably.

10. Oh? What about pets?

Oh, none. No matter how people tends to like me, animals not so much.

11. That’s cool I guess, now tell me about something you don’t like.

Strong smells of kitchen and long-cooked meals. The smell of boiled vegetables, just... nauseating. 

12. Do you have any hobbies/activities you like doing?

I like to climb. Rocks, mountains, houses, palaces, trees. Jump from building to building at night in Orlais, look for nests high in the forest, climb the side of a waterfall. It often ruins my hand, but, well, it’s really the last of my problems. It’s not just the danger, it’s the flight.

13. Ever hurt anyone before?

Indeed.

14. Ever… killed anyone before?

I have several commendation letters from the House of Repos, if needed.

15. What kind of animal are you?

Oh well, a half-breed, if we wish to be technical. But, if we are talking in metaphors, in Orlais I had quite a reputation as the Araignée, so I would say the spider.

16. Name your worst habits.

Using people, I have been told. But really, it’s just a question of prospective. Not eating or sleeping enough, would comment my sister.

17. Do you look up to anyone at all?

My sister. Stronger person that I could ever dream to be.

18. Gay, straight, or bisexual?

For the job, it hardly matters. As a personal preference, men.

19. Do you go to school?

No. I spent my childhood in chains, more or less metaphorically. Then I “studied” a bit with the Dalish, before joining the Hammond household. There I leaned the basics of behavior, culture and combat.

20. Do you ever want to marry and have kids one day?

Oh, well, it’s not really a prospective for me. I surprise myself for being alive and still myself most days. I cannot imagine myself .. well. Children do like me. I guess I could take care of Cat’s if she ever has one or more and wishes help.

21. Do you have any fanboys/fangirls?

Something of the sort. Also many Orlesians like to gossip about l’Araignée, so I guess that counts too.

22. What are you most afraid of?

Oh, darling, at least buy me a drink first.

23. What do you usually wear?

I like high quality fabrics, I cannot lie. I like the feel and look of them. I like the glimmer and the stories it tells and how it’s made to show but hide both. But, well, I’m quite used to practical clothing and armor that favors agility and comfort rather than fashion.

24. Do you love someone?

I often think about it. And then desperately try not to.

25. When was the last time you wet yourself?

I believe it must have been the day I died.

26. Well, it’s not over yet!

Oh please, keep going.

27. What class are you? (High class, middle class, low class)

I have been all those three things and more. Now I hardly believe I belong to any. I just fake my way into them if needed.

28. How many friends do you have?

Oh dear. One, I believe. Though she is my sister before that, so I don’t truly believe it counts. Friends are fickle little flames, that I’m not talented nor often interested in cultivating.

29. What are your thoughts on pie?

Impartial. Food and me have a complicated relationship.

30. Favourite drink?

Water. I don’t have a particular interest in beverages.

31. What’s your favourite place?

Somewhere in altitude. 

32. Are you interested in someone?

In many people, only for the time necessary.

33. What’s your bra cup size and/or how big is your willy?

Tut-tut, so indiscreet. Don’t you want to be surprised?

34. Would you rather swim in the lake or the ocean?

Lake. The ocean... isn’t much my element.

35. What’s your type?

I’m flexible. In my job I can’t really allow myself a “type”.

36. Any fetishes?

Not really. I’ve been though most of it already. It looses its charm fast.

37. Seme or uke? Top or Bottom? Dominant or Submissive?

Whatever is needed. 

38. Camping or indoors?

Preferably indoors, but I do always keep myself on the move.

39. Are you wanting the interview to end?

I would be agreeable to it. It’s been somehow tiring.

40. Now it’s over!

Well, good day to you, serah. It’s been a pleasure.

[whippedkoalas]

Hello! I am in love with these William and Chris talk about Noora drabbles. So cute! Could you write one more, where William formally introduces Noora to Chris as his girlfriend and Chris as his all time best friend to Noora. N and C obviously know each other but would love to read one where they talk to each other for the first time. And if you have any extra ideas for that, I am sure we will all love it! 😍

Hi! Thank you for your prompt, it was fun to write. I hope that you’ll love it.  I included some noorhelm, because why not? 

Noora & William are hosting a party together and that means making their relationship official. A lot of people are already aware that they are together, but it’s mostly because of rumors and people talking. That party is a way to have fun after all that happened, sure, but it’s also a statement. They are hosting a party together.William knows the drill so he asks Noora to create an event on Facebook. She is a bit surprised so she tells him “why don’t you do it with your account? You’ve got more friends than I do”. He smirks. “I will share it on my account but if you create the event, people will know that it’s our party.” “okay? I’m not sure that I understand why but I’ll do it.”He waits a few seconds, pondering his words. “I don’t want people to think it’s The riot club boss who’s hosting a party. I want to make it clear that we’re hosting this party together. People will understand that we’re seriously together better if you invite them to a party at my place than if I just write your name at the end”“oh. Okay” she smiles. “you mean that girls won’t try to hit on you when I’m here if it’s my party?” she chuckles. “No. I mean… Maybe but that’s not why…” he tries to explain but Noora interrupts him. “I know, William. I was just kidding. You’re cute.” She kisses him. “You’re right too. It’s maybe time to make sure people know that we’re taken. By each other. We will officially be together, that way.” she smiles. “You really want to make it difficult for me right? I’ll create the event if you want, it’s not that important. I just thought it would be more… I don’t know, I thought it would be great if you did but whatever”She runs her fingers through his hair, smiling. “Hey, no. I’ll do it. I will gladly tell everyone at Nissen that you’re taken. By me. They might all have a hoodie with your name, but I’m the one you’re hosting great parties with” she grins. William lets out a laugh. “Didn’t know you were possessive”“hmmm.” She plays with his hands. « I’d like to set the record straight, once and for all, that’s all. »

She creates the event on Facebook sometime later. She writes a few sentences, inviting people to William’s apartment and signs “Noora & William” and hits send with a smile.William shares her event and invites his Facebook friends. They don’t have much time to organize the party but William is highly experienced and knows what to do.  « Noora? » He calls her, playing with his phone. « Would you mind if Chris comes early to the party? He’ll help us set everything up and I could introduce you to him »A bit surprised, Noora gives him a smile. « I’ve already met Chris, » she says.« I know but I would like to introduce you as my girlfriend » he says. It still so new to him this whole relationship thing but he remembers being introduced more formally to the girlfriends his friends had over the years, so it might be the next step.« Old-fashioned style? » she replies, playing with her lips. « No, just… » he says.« You’re too cute. Of course, he can come early, William.»

And that’s what Chris does. He is not really nervous but there’s a tiny bit of him who is afraid. He never really had a real conversation with Noora. If they do not get along at all, his friendship with William might suffer a bit so he wants to make a great impression. (and if, maybe, getting along with Noora can help him spend more time with Eva, it’s just a bonus, of course.) When he arrives Noora is preparing the drinks. He greets William and then goes to Noora. « Hi, Christoffer, nice to meet you, » he says, solemnly but with a huge smile and a wink. He gives her a kiss on the cheek. « Hi, Chris. I’m Noora, nice to meet you too » She gives him a smile.William leaves them alone. « So, what can I do to help you? » Chris asks Noora.« There are a few drinks here. We have to set them up on the table there. Honestly, you probably organized more parties in this apartment than me so you know better than I do.»« You’ve got a point » he laughs.There’s an awkward silence for a bit before Noora decides to break it. « So, since when do you know William? »« I met him when we started Nissen. We sat next to each other during our first period of the first day of school. » he replies.« You’ve never left his side since? » she asks further.« Basically, yes. »« that’s cool » she says.« Where did William disappear? » Chris asks.« He’s setting up the patio » « Don’t tell him but I forgot the beer packs I was meant to bring, at home » Chris whispers.Noora makes a face. « Oops! » « yeah, I have to find a way to tell him… »« Don’t worry, we went shopping this morning and he bought 3 packs more because he said you’ll forget. » « What? Really? » Chris says, offended. « He just knows you well » she laughs.« Apparently. He’s always like that, though. He wasn’t the boss because he cared more about Russ, but because he’s like our big brother. He was the most responsible one. » Chris laughs.« I can picture this » Noora says back. « Honestly, I think it was a nightmare for him to try to organize things with 30 boys like us. We really gave him a hard time! » Chris laughs. « He loves you. » she says, smiling to Chris.Chris nudges her and raises an eyebrow. « He loves you »Noora blushes and nods.« I’m serious, you know? I can be serious from time to time, I promise »« I know, Chris. I know »« You seem really cool, miss Saetre. I’m so glad that William didn’t fall for a boring girl! » Chris lets out a sigh.« I’m the coolest, I know » she replies. « You’re not that bad, either. »He chuckles. « Thanks. »« If William ends up in prison, we could go see him together? » she laughs.He looks at her confusingly. « hmm, I guess we could. » he replies. « I just hope we won’t need to. Not that I don’t want to carpool karaoke with you but… » He sighs.« I was just kidding. » she says, looking down. « I really hope confessing helped his case »« me too. We’ll find other occasions to team up, I’m sure » he winks.« Oh yes. I have a few ideas in mind… »« Already? Great! » They burst out laughing. William comes back and smiles when he sees them. « Why are you laughing? » he asks.« She passed the test. Girlfriend approved. » Chris says. Noora hits him with a cardboard.

After a while, Chris looks at Noora and says, «  By the way, will Eva be there tonight? »Noora looks at him and smiles brightly. « Finally! » she tells him. « Yes, she’ll be there. »« Great. » he says, playing with his lips to suppress a smile.

[freecityradio]

Razan AlSalah on Lebanon’s social movements, the impacts of the pandemic and on ‎Save the Bisri Valley campaign

An exchange with Palestinian/Lebanese filmmaker, academic and activist Razan AlSalah speaking about the impact of the pandemic in Lebanon, how it has exposed inequalities and injustices within Lebanese society. 

Also Razan reflects on the ways that the pandemic has impacted the Lebanese social movement that has been taking place this past year and the view of many activists that the pandemic is a time for people to work together and express solidarity through mutual aid. 

Stefan Christoff : First, I am wondering if you could address what the crisis of pandemic means for Lebanon, because you were very seriously working to support the protests against corruption, against the oligarchy in Lebanon, supporting the movements for economic and social justice that have been taking place on the streets in Lebanon this past year. 

Government authorities in Lebanon recently dismantled the tents, but the issues that sparked the protests remain, obviously. So I am wondering your reflections here, obviously you're here in Montréal, but are certainly very connected to the movement in Lebanon that has been happening. So I am wondering what you think about what this moment means for the movement in Lebanon, how it will impact the direction of the movement in Lebanon ?

Razan AlSalah : Well first, in terms of direct consequences, the government is using this time to dismantle any type of physical presence, or infrastructure, of the revolution. The government is using this quarantine time to crack down on activists, to pass laws and partnerships, including the Bisri Dam project, with the World Bank, also negotiations that involve the IMF.

Stefan : Could you detail the Bisri Dam project and the Bisri Valley defence campaign for people who are not familiar ?

Razan : Yes of course. So the Bisri Valley is a lush fertile land in southern Lebanon that the revolutionaries very recently decided to announce as a reserved area. The revolution has been particularly active to support, through ‎Save the Bisri Valley أنقذوا مرج بسري‎, the actual campaign, you can follow their news on the facebook page. This campaign has been actively fighting against a government dam project that is set to build a dam in the Bisri valley under the scientifically false promise of providing water to greater Beirut, of course we all know today how dams are economically unsound and financially disastrous. 

It is good to expand on this example because it is exemplary of a larger problem in Lebanon, where you have the oligarchy, the political ruling elite, who in both the private and public sectors extract resources, turning projects like Bisri into very expensive projects that allow for a very corrupt extraction of financial resources. I am trying to translate from Arabic all the time in my head, one of the features of this revolution is that is has been very much a return to Arabic as a political language, which is kinda novice for Lebanon. 

So the Bisri valley is another expensive project that is infected with corruption, and is leaking more loan based money to an already disproportionately rich 1%, that also controls the government and these loans of course are taken by the Lebanese government officially, so these loans fall as a burden on the Lebanese public and not the ruling class. So you have this dam project which is exemplary to the larger problems in Lebanon, where you have the ruling elite privatizing public spaces, extracting resources, and oppressing an entire nation under disastrous neo-liberal policies and drowning the country in debt, for which the burden is placed on a public that is already struggling economically and socially. 

Stefan : This brings up many issues relating to the struggles of everyday people in Lebanon, in terms of economics, but by extension, in regards to accessing health care, this issue speaks to both general environmental health, but also in terms of tangible economics, access to medical health support, with healthcare being largely private that means costs and due to corruption people are broke and can’t access healthcare as needed, which is so critically important at this time. So I am wondering about the critiques that came forward at this time, during the revolution, during the protests, how are they relevant to the current situation ?

Asking this because there are arguments from different politicians within Lebanon, with a similar dynamic being reflected in many places around the world, politicians who put forward an argument that says, ‘well now is not a time for protest and critique with governments dealing with a pandemic, now is a time to support the state.’ Obviously this is hard to do when people are lacking access to personal environmental health and health care right now in Lebanon, due to the pandemic, and the way that it impacts poor and working people. So I am wondering if you have any reflections on this front ?

Razan: We can see this is that what is happening, all over. This pandemic is highlighting different social and economic aliments within different societies around the world and Lebanon is no exception. I will use an anecdote that is both hilarious and also very, very sad, which is masks. Medical masks in Lebanon today are being distributed by the same political parties that since November the revolution has been fighting against. So the political parties are not just distributing medical masks, they are actually printing their logos directly on the medical masks, so you have this violent and also very ironic demonstration of political theatrics, of politicians trying to regain political power in such dire times. 

So the situation in general is being exasperated by the pandemic, activists are being cracked down on, the protest tents downtown were dismantled, laws are being passed without due transparency, while political parties are very much gathering, convening and organizing, one of the visual manifestations of this power, of this real reality, that is very much on the nose, on our faces, literally, is the medical masks with the logos of the parties being forced on peoples faces and its very ugly. You know, you can take this reality and also look at the ways that parties are control food rations also in some cases. This is the ugly side. 

Also I must say that a lot of activists groups, the revolutionaries, that were ready for the revolutionary moment and took the revolution where it needed to go, are responding today also. The revolution, in a beautiful kinda cycle, allowed us to come together and organize more together, to think of language and strategies, and come up with alternative media, come up with alternative unions, that present an alternative to oligarchy, an alternative to the ruling political parties, to the traditionally ruling parties and today, despite the quarantine, people are trying to organize around the politics of solidarity, not just for Lebanon but for humanity, because the right wing is organizing right now and we need to organize back. 

I think the moment today calls for solidarity, solidarity, solidarity. That is our own line of site, without which we will find a culture of fear and a more conservative future.

Stefan : Could you highlight the ways that people in Lebanon are not able to access healthcare at this time ? Also point to the economics of this ?

Razan : So, Lebanon, just like the example of the Bisri valley, and that type of extraction based infrastructure, also the medical infrastructure in Lebanon is very much privatized and so the privatization and extraction is not just about the public state development projects, but also about public services, including healthcare. So although we do have social security programs, that were largely initiated under probably the only president that matters in Lebanese contemporary history, Fuad Chehab, in the 1960s, so this is a long time ago in an different era. So the public health care system is a crumbling system, even though it is a very important public service right now, at this time. 

So at the beginning of the pandemic in Lebanon, and I am no expert on this topic, but a single public hospital was dealing with all COVID-19 cases, and private hospitals were refusing to hospitalize any covid cases and all that pressure was being put on the public healthcare infrastructure, which is already lacking in regular and normal times, let alone today in a pandemic. This is important.

Another thing is that the social security and medical coverage in Lebanon is very basic and many people in Lebanon actually have private insurance, but imagine marginalized lower and lower middle income classes, people who now are facing double trouble. So for example in Lebanon, Palestinian refugees are both marginalized legally and also economically, they are marginalized in different ways institutionally. So these sections of the Lebanese society don’t have private insurance, can’t afford private insurance, so they again, are now much more vulnerable. 

Stefan : You had mentioned the reality around the world of governments relying on public infrastructure to get through this crisis and I mean every context is very different, countries in the G7 economies, the neo-colonial economies aren’t in the same situation, but even in Canada, it is clear that the private sector isn’t playing a major role in dealing with this pandemic, it is public hospitals, its public social security systems, obviously. 

So I am wondering if you could address how this reality impacts Lebanon, because for many decades, the public infrastructure has been crushed by not getting the funding that it needs, including public hospitals, in this context the private healthcare systems have become so important. 

So I am wondering if you would like to share anything about this reliance on public infrastructure to get through this pandemic, which in the Lebanese context is a very unstable infrastructure because the public sector has been defunded. Wondering if you have anything to share about this in general. What does this tell us about the role of the private section in getting society through difficult times. Given you have been involved in issues in different places, I am wondering if you have any thoughts about this ?

Razan : In Lebanon, I see this as the chance for different sides, which are not the government, to play the government's role. I mean we have this false idea in Lebanon that there is no government, that we have to rely on political parties, on NGOs, for basic public services, including healthcare and I gave the example of the medical masks printed by the political parties. 

It is a false idea that the Lebanese government is weak. I mean we saw how how strong the government is during the revolution, the military equipment, the police forces, the intelligence, the reach of that intelligence, on the ground during the protests and way beyond, all the resources for the police and military personal, the training. The Lebanese government is not weak, it is very strong and it has failed to support its people. It does not provide public services when it needs to, that is correct, but that doesn’t mean that the Lebanese government is a weak government, this is one point that I really wanted to put out there. 

The Second thing is to look at where the government fails. It doesn't fail to oppress, but it fails to provide public services and health care, and this is were religious parties, and foreign aid comes into to provide to the people what the government should be providing. So I don’t see that possible scenario in the US, where people say oh yes Bernie was right all along, the private healthcare system is killing us, we need public health care, coming to pass in Lebanon. What I see in Lebanon is this falling back on the non-governmental, often sectarian, infrastructures that have provided public services and health care for people. 

So again, I would say that this is an opportunity for activists in the revolution to organize and to create these alternatives that are solidarity based, that look to self-sufficiency, that look to alternative economies, that look to gifting economies, that can circumvent the neo-liberal machine. 

[reivenesque]

Cindereva CH3

« Read previous 

Chapter 3: The Girl in the Red Hood

The whole work day Eva finds herself completely distracted. She can’t shake the thoughts of the man back at her house and the emotions that come with it; the knowledge of who he is, what he is, and that he’s currently in her house and in her bed, in the company her pets who mean the absolute world to her. She’d left him there after just waking up from almost dying, confused and weak, surrounded by her dogs that were terrified and in her home that was her sanctuary.

She knows nothing about him, but she knows everything there is to know about his people, or at least, everything she’d ever been told about them and up until that point, everything she thought she ever needed to know.

But now she knows his name: Christoffer and it doesn’t sound like it should belong to one of the Southern monsters in the tales she grew up listening to. It sounds exactly the way he looks, which is just human.

Eva’s gone through many moments in the last four days absolutely regretting her choice to carry him back and tend to his wounds. But that moment when he said his name, when she finally took a good look at him, when she finally saw his face, really saw his face and it finally occurred to her that he couldn’t have been much older than her; at that moment, she realized that all her feelings of regret and uncertainty finally washed away.

It isn’t until she finds herself being scolded by the matron of the household for accidentally putting the good rice out for the chickens that Eva realizes that she’s been going through the motions and moving through the day in something of an out-of-focus haze. Unfortunately, it was at that exact moment that Count chose to pass by the kitchen, peeking in curiously at the sound of the raised voices to see her getting reprimanded by the older woman.

He cleared his throat when he entered, catching their attention and immediately stopping the housekeeper’s impassioned lecture.

“Give us a minute,” he says to the older woman who obliges immediately with a curtsy, leaving Eva with the imposing figure of the Count who she’s never actually really met face to face before.

“My lord,” Eva bows nervously. “I’m sorry about the rice, and for being distracted. It won’t happen agai—”

He immediately raises his hand to stop her. “No, it’s not about that—Eva, was it?”

“Yes, sir.” Eva raises her eyes to look at him, seeing his gaze on her and the expression on his face being one she can’t decipher.

“How long have you been working here, Eva?” he asks, stepping to the side and taking seat on one of the stools by the table. He beckons Eva towards the empty stool opposite him.

“Three years, sir,” she says, taking small hesitant steps closer and taking seat, slouching slightly as she sits down, her hands clasped nervously on her lap.

“That would make you…nineteen? Twenty?” he asks with genuine curiosity.

“Eighteen, sir. I’ll turn eighteen in a few months,” Eva says.

The Count actually looks taken aback by her answer. “Eighteen? Ingrid’s age,” he says sadly. “How old were you when your parents passed?”

“Thirteen,” she says, looking down at her intertwined hands.

He runs his hand across his face once and exhales. “I knew your father when he was alive. He was a good man. Both your parents were good people and it saddened me to hear about their passing. It has been haunting me for a long time but I think perhaps I could have done more to help you instead of taking you in as the help. I only now realize just young you were and how young you still are and—”

This time it’s Eva who interrupts him before he has a chance to finish. “No, sir,” she says, “All this…all you’ve done to help by giving me this job, it has been invaluable to me. I wouldn’t someone’s handouts or their pity, and having this job, in a way, it’s give me reason to get up and get out of bed in the morning, so please don’t feel like you’ve done anything wrong.”

The Count regards her critically and Eva nearly folds under his intense gaze. But eventually he smiles, his eyes are warm and kind and not unlike the look her own father used to have in his eyes. “You’re an remarkable person, Eva, and we are lucky to have you in our family,” he says. “But you do seem a little distracted today, are you ill?”

“No, sir, I’ve just—had some things on my mind. It won’t happen again.”

“Why don’t you take the day off, Eva,” he says, obviously not listening to what she’d said. “There’s nothing that needs your immediate attention. In fact, take the weekend off and come back to work fresh in the new week. Go to town and see your friends and just have fun. You’ve deserved it.”

“But—”

“No buts, this isn’t a request,” he says, but his eyes are still warm and comforting and Eva can’t help her sheepish smile.

So that’s how she ends up trekking up the footpath leading away from the giant mansion in her rear; her reliable cloak around her shoulders and the hood that she could pull up over her head hanging behind almost down to her shoulder blades. The cloak had been the last gift she’d received from her mother before she died. She’d sewed it as she lay sick in bed for the few months before she succumbed to her illness. It was a beautiful dark red colour with fine golden embroidery across the hem and in the seams of the hood. It used to drag on the ground when she wore it when she was younger, but now it hung to just below her shins which was the perfect length even when it was raining out and she’d have to traverse through the puddles in the road.

Instead of taking the right turn which would lead her back to her cottage near the woods, Eva turns left to head into town for supplies. Noora was still in school and Christina was no doubt neck deep in the mid-morning rush of customers coming in for their morning ale and late breakfast. Both Vilde and Sana had their own businesses to run so Eva decided not to bother any of them as she enters the quaint little town and heads towards the apothecary to get disinfectant alcohol and a few other things she thinks she might need. She didn’t usually chose to spend her hard earned money on things she could get from the forest, but some things were worth keeping in case of emergencies.

She passes by the flower lady who smiles wide when she sees her and as usual, reaches into her basket of flowers, pulling out a single blue flower and tucking it behind Eva’s ear. Eva smiles and thanks her before moving on to the bakers. After the incident with the mill the past week, the baker has since refused to allow her to pay for any of the baked goods she picked despite her argument. Eventually she relents, and makes it a point to only take the smallest pieces and the driest muffins so that it wouldn’t affect the old bakers business.

She’s half across the street when she spots Vilde skipping down the road happily, clutching a white cat doll in her arms and pushing in the doors of the bakery with perhaps a bit too much enthusiasm. They all knew she was infatuated with the baker’s son, but no one commented on it as a point of teasing because they could tell that she truly liked him.

The fish seller gives her a good offer on the fresh catch of the day and Eva thinks she might make a fish dinner with some potatoes that night. She wonders what Chris would like to eat when he’s strong enough to take in solid food; she knows first-hand the health benefits of fish so maybe that was the best place to start.

She leaves town without running into her friends and it’s a realization that both saddens and relieved her at the same time. She wouldn’t want to have to lie to them about what she’s been up to.

Chris is asleep when she gets home; she peeks in through the half open door before she enters while trying not to make too much sound. The broth and bread are still on the table where she left it, untouched, but perhaps he wasn’t strong enough to muster the strength needed to eat; it’s a fact Eva ponders over with a small feeling of guilt at having to leave him so abruptly.

Fy is surprisingly asleep and stays asleep when she enters, curled up on the floor near the foot of the bed and Faen in a similar position near the cupboard a few feet away.

She’s so engrossed in the sight that meets her eyes that she forgets to sidestep the loose floorboard that’s been a bane in her existence for years. She steps right in the middle of it causing a wailing creaking sound to emit shocking both dogs immediately out of their sleep and causing Chris to startle into consciousness. She finds herself unable to move out of the awkward stance she’d paused it the moment her foot touched the floor; smiling sheepishly when Chris’s completely alert gaze finds hers.

“Sorry,” she says. “I’ve been meaning to get that fixed for years, but ended up never getting around to it.”

Chris visibly relaxes and Eva notes with some level of satisfaction the fact that he even has a small smile playing at his lips.

He swallows once before turning back to look at her. “How was work?” he asks and for a second Eva has to pinch herself to make sure that she isn’t stuck in some dream, because that’s how surreal the moment felt.

This was an enemy soldier, in her house, lying in her bed, looking about as weak as a day old kitten asking her about her day. He didn’t know her and she didn’t know him, although after having sat by his bedside for four nights, feeding him and cleaning his wounds, Eva thinks that perhaps she’s seen more of him than she ever has another living human being. Seeing the scars that marred his body, some new, still red and enflamed; some of them old and had turned a pale white where the skin had knitted together uneven. Long wounds and short wounds and burn marks and welts, more injuries than she’d ever seen on a human body, and what looked like a wolf’s head branded into the area of his chest, below his collarbone but just above his heart. That one seemed to be the oldest of them all.

Truthfully, she didn’t know what to make of the whole situation or how she actually felt about it, but most of all, she was unnerved by how at ease she felt in the moment and how the question didn’t at all seem out of place or wrong. Was this how it felt to come home to someone’s welcome at the end of a long and hard day?

Eva wasn’t used to it but—but it felt…nice.  

Eva realizes she’s staring at him without answering for a long pause before she nervously looks away with an embarrassed chuckle. “It was…okay,” she says. “The Count let me leave early so I managed to get some supplies from town.” She walks over to the kitchen and deposits the bags of groceries onto the table. Pulling out the disinfectant and ointment she’d gotten, showing him both briefly before putting it aside and putting the fish and the bread on the countertop out of the way.

While she was doing it, she could feel the heat of Chris’s gaze on her and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up but she tries not to bring attention to it. Instead, once she finished putting away her things and set the fish aside to be cleaned and deboned for later, she walks towards the bed while wiping her hands on the front material of her skirt.

Chris’s eyes continue following her as she approaches.

“You didn’t eat anything?” she asks, taking seat on the edge of the mattress and looking between the bowl on the side table and the man lying in the bed beside her. “You need to eat a little to get your strength back up to allow your body to heal.”

Chris doesn’t say anything, but his eyes are so intense watching her that she has to keep her own eyes averted. Instead, she reaches to grab the bowl, using the spoon to stir the now cold broth to mix the herbs and flavour that had sunk to the bottom. Setting it aside once more, she reaches up again, lifting Chris’s upper body gently and arranging the pillows behind his head and upper back before setting him back down. Chris continues his silence and Eva doesn’t make eye contact. The whole thing is done in complete silence until Eva sits back down on the edge and reaches for the bowl again, scooping up a small amount of broth in the spoon and holding it close to Chris’s lips. He looks absolutely taken aback, looking between the spoon and Eva until he eventually relents and opens his mouth to accept the food.

Eva tries not to look too satisfied but she thinks she isn’t doing a very good job at it. After about ten minutes and less than a quarter of the broth actually finished, Chris finally holds a hand up to let her know that he’s done. Eva obliges immediately.

“Why are you doing this?”

She hears the question again as she’s gathering up the bowl, taking a bite out of the now stale bread that had been out since morning and starts to head to the kitchen.

“I already told you—”

“There’s helping a stranger,” Chris says, almost like he’s trying hard to make sense of everything. He looks just as perplexed about the situation as Eva does and that offers her a small measure of comfort. “And there’s…what you’re doing,” he says. “I’m your enemy; you shouldn’t be this kind to me.” Just when Eva thinks he’s finished, he adds, “What would your family think if they knew who you were harbouring?”

And that statement immediately causes her to still in place. She’s glad she has her back to him, and it takes all her will power not to drop the bowl and plate to shatter on the floor. She looks down at the bowl in her hand, finding the ripple in the thick liquid caused by her hand shaking involuntarily almost mesmerising. At least it offers her some sort of distraction from the situation.

She has to force her voice not to shake when she answers. “They would think what they’re thinking right now,” she says without turning around.

“What do you mean?”

Eva can’t see his face, but she can hear the confusion clear in his voice.

“My family,” she says, “You’re looking at them,” she says, and continues on her way to the kitchen without turning around once to look at him or to elaborate.

Chris watches her retreating back and the confusion is clear on his face. Whatever question he wanted to ask next quickly dying on his lips the moment his eyes fall on the dogs still curled up on the floor and the cats he can see staring at him from on top of the bookshelf. He looks around more and sees a variety of different animals perched on various surfaces across the small cottage that he hadn’t noticed before. In that moment, he understands completely.

He doesn’t say anything after that, and when Eva finally returns to his side, a forced smile plastered onto her face, carrying a bowl of water and a clean cloth, he doesn’t bring up the question again.

He watches silently as her hands expertly move to clean his wounds. He swallows the groan that threatens to emerge when she touches a particularly painful spot. But he was used to it: pain. What he wasn’t used to was kindness, and this meek, defenceless girl was showing him more kindness than he was used to or even deserved and it unnerved him to the core.

He really doesn’t know what to think. He just follows her with his eyes as she bustles around the house, feeding the animals and tidying around. She doesn’t make eye contact with him again after that conversation but she doesn’t seem particularly upset, so Chris allows her to have her moment without disruption.

She cooks fish that night and it’s the most heavenly thing he’s ever smelled in his life, but he declines when she offers it to him. Mainly because the thought of eating anything didn’t seem particularly inviting, but he watches her while she eats, periodically putting aside a piece for the cats perched around her plate on the table. It wasn’t that he was unused to seeing girls; he had a lot of beautiful girls and beautiful women waiting back home to throw themselves at his feet, but none of them were quite like the girl sitting in front of him, smiling at her cats and the little mice scurrying across the table, and reaching over the pet the dogs sitting protectively by her side. He could tell that she’d seen her fair share of pain and loneliness, but the fact that she could still be this kind of person, the kind of person who would bring a stranger into their home knowing full well that he was an enemy of the nation and undoubtedly a wanted criminal. The kind of person who would nurse him back to health and feed him and clean his wounds and worry about his wellbeing even when they knew nothing about each other and she had no way of knowing that he wouldn’t wake up suddenly and kill her in her sleep.

He’s heard what the Northern people had to say about the Southern soldiers. He’s heard the rumours they tell their children about the Penetrators. He knows what thought goes through people’s mind when they talk about the South and he knows that Eva has undoubtedly heard all the same stories and more, and the fact that she still did what she did…

That was a realization that really made him take a step back and recognize that perhaps there still was some good left in the world.

Tbc.

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Thank you to everyone who read/liked/reblogged and commented on the last chapters. Especially: @imyourliquor-youremypoison @giishere @ganseysjane @whyjulieandemhatesevamohn @yousefxsana @ultraanakinpadmelover @havshsjjs101byebye (whose comments are so amazing Tumblr won’t notify me of them) @joyfullyqualitydaze @time-to-go-97 and to everyone who read and commented on ao3, I will get to your comments there asap.

[hartsmonster]

*a short first date prompt, I had to include today’s clip. Enjoy a little more of Chris x Eva!*

It wasn't exactly his scene. Christoffer Schistad has never done anything like this, for anyone.

And yet, there he was, making sure that the bowl with nachos was standing perfectly in the middle of a glass table in his living room.

She changed him in so many ways, that he probably still didn't realize it.

Chris did take a note of the fact that he wanted to be with her so bad, and that has never happened before. And to be honest, he was quite taken aback when she refused. He wasn't used to girls denying him, he always got what he wanted. Maybe that was the reason he liked her so much.

She challenged him, Eva made him question everything he knew so far.

He didn't even know when spending time with her became a routine for him. Schistad was always keen on not hooking up with the same girl twice. That was one of his rules – it prevented the other party from gaining feelings.

And now, he got caught in his own trap. Chris stopped counting his escapades with Mohn after a third time. And each time he saw her, he wanted more.

Even William was always surprised when he told him he was doing something with her, or that she was coming over.

It was obvious that he had a little crush on a certain ginger haired girl. And he finally admitted it to himself the morning he woke up next to her. He realized that he could get used to it, seeing her face first thing when he opened his eyes, see her smile and even kiss her to wake her up.

And when his hand was tracing the outline of her face, he wanted his mind to remember it, in case something went wrong, and he wouldn't be able to see her anymore.

That moment, he knew that he fell hard, and that there was no going back.

So he made up a story about a dream that he had, he was so nervous whilst telling it, hoping she would understand the message he wanted to convey.

Instead, she hit him with a brutal truth. We are never going to be together, a cheating fuckboy. He wasn't proud of his past, but he also couldn't change it. And Chris knew that Eva would never trust him. At the same time, he wanted to change her mind so badly.

He wanted to show her that he was not that person anymore, because the Penetrator Chris was now just Chris who wanted to be with her.

Schistad spent hours and hours thinking of a way to do that, and nothing that was good enough for her popped up in his head. She really did deserve the best.

So he did the only thing he could think of; messaging her ex-boyfriend.

He felt awkward even typing the message so he added 'hahaha' at the end. And then he regretted it immediately, because he realized he sounded like an idiot.

Chris wanted to know what she liked and didn't like, what would make her happy. He wanted to start with the flowers first. Girls liked flowers, right?

He never gave any to anybody.

Finally, after few minutes Jonas replied and gave him the advice he wanted.

And so now, he was sitting in his living room, making sure that everything he prepared was ready.

She was supposed to come any time, but Eva didn't know that he planned a little date night for them. He felt kind of weird doing that, and he wasn't sure if it was okay as he has never done anything like this before.

He heard someone putting in the code number to open the front door, and a while later, his eyes met hers as she was making her way down the corridor.

Schistad showed her the code as they decided it would be easier for her to know it, and so that she could come in without him having to run to the door.

She looked as good as ever in her favourite green top, and her hair curled into loose curls.

“Halla.”

She smiled at him, putting down her bag at the kitchen counter, before flopping down on a couch next to him. “Hi.”

When she finally settled in, he leaned in and gave her a kiss. Eva put her hand on his neck, trying to deepen the kiss, but Chris decided to draw back before it was too late and they would end up in bed. He didn't invite her over for sex, not that night, so he pulled away, licking his lips.

She looked at him questioningly.

“I thought we could maybe watch a movie?” Chris pointed at a DVD on the table.

The girl still looked really confused, but followed his gaze. And then her eyes roamed around everything he prepared, the snacks, the drinks, even the bowl of nachos that he made as a main dish of the night. She picked up the movie box, and she started laughing.

Now he was the confused one.

“Is this some kind of joke? You're pranking me, right?”

He didn't really know why she reacted like that. Maybe partially because she wasn't expecting him to do something like that, but he had to admit – he was kind of hurt by it. It only showed that his efforts were pointless, she'd never want to be with him, nor trust him.

When she saw his blank face, she must've realized that he was being serious, but she couldn't stop laughing.

“I'm sorry, I just really, really hate that movie. And I can't stand the taste of nachos.”

Chris' mouth opened in awe. He came to a realisation that he was played by none other than Jonas. And he kind of did it to himself, after all he did go to her ex-boyfriend for advice, not to mention that the guy hated his guts, he should've known that he wouldn't be serious and help him get a girl he once loved. Or maybe he was jealous.

At that moment it didn't matter, what mattered was the fact that he made a complete fool out of himself in front of Eva, who was still chuckling thinking it was some kind of prank.

“What is all this about, Chris?” She asked, when she finally calmed down.

Schistad had enough for one night, he wanted to tell her to go home, but he couldn't. He wanted her to stay. And this was his chance to be honest for once, without playing any games or beating around the bush by making up some stupid story.

“I asked Jonas for help.”

She laughed once again, and this time he joined in. This whole situation was actually really funny. “What?!”

“I asked him to tell me what you like, what I could do to win you over.” He simply stated. “And I followed his advice. Fresh Guy and nachos, perfect ending to a perfect night.”

Eva's laugh was one of the most pleasant sounds to his ears. And the way she laughed could also be admired, at least by him. And he did, he stared at her while she was still trying to process this whole situation.

Then, they talked. And went for a walk. He bought her flowers she picked herself and now he knew that she loved lilies.

She would casually start teasing him about the event he prepared for her, at some point she even told him that she never expected that of him and that he surprised her, in a positive way, thankfully.

Once again, he was doing something he has never done before.

He went on a date.

With Eva Mohn.

And it was the most perfect date, and he could have never imagined it to be better than that.

[dracoluciusmalfoywrites]

10/06, Saturday morning. The day after #evamohnharbirstag.  Waking up with a hangover was something that Eva was long used to. The light, but pounding headache, the dry throat and the disoriented feeling were all familiar ground. It was the reason why she had put down a glass of water at her nightstand that midday before she left to Chris’, where the party would be. She hadn’t been able to believe it that Chris and the other girls were actually throwing her a party, but it had happened. The headache, as well as how happy she was now, was proof of that.

She reached over for the glass and emptied it first before she took her phone from the nightstand as well. Opening Instagram, she first saw the photo that Chris posted with the hashtag ‘evamohnharbirstag’ and with the caption ‘Spotted’. The photo was taken in Chris’ backyard and was from herself sitting on Christoffer’s lap. They had their arms over around another and their heads were pressed together. From what it looked like, they both had something to drink.

It wasn’t quite reminiscent of the other picture that Chris had taken and posted on Instagram from Chris and her. The picture had been taken at the Kosegruppa Christmas celebration to which Eva had invited Chris. Chris was in front of the frame and he could be seen from the side. She was standing behind him and they were both laughing.

The difference between the two pictures was obvious. The older one was vague; it seemed like they were shy about having their photo taken. The new one was clear and both Chris and her had posed for the picture. It didn’t take much imagination to figure out what they were doing before the picture was taken and what they continued to do afterwards.

Her own Instagram story, too, told the tale of a boy that showed up at her birthday party late and made it even better. Eskild was on there, dancing and just generally being drunk, as well as Linn, who Eva was sure would be hangover for days after the party. And then there was the occasional shot of Chris. At the end of the story Eskild, Chris and her were singing JB’s Somebody to Love together and Chris and her couldn’t take their eyes off of one another.

She ignored the notifications of messages, specifically the girls’ group chat as well as some messages from Jonas and Isak and laid her phone back down. As her head hit the pillow again, someone beside her started to move and seconds later Chris emerged from a pile of sheets. He grinned at her. “Hey birthday girl.”

“Hi,” she mumbled in a reply. She watched how Chris got up and checked his phone, too, before he let himself fall down in the sheets again and turned to face her. To her surprise he leaned towards her, kissed her and fell back down next to her, his shoulder touching her.

“What a crazy party it was,” Chris said. “I do not regret showing up. At all.” Pausing, he turned to look at her. Eva looked back. She probably looked exhausted still. They had partied until rather late with Eskild and Linn and she was surprised she was awake this early. “Eva, just so you know, I will never sing Justin Bieber ever again.”

That remark made her laugh. Should she tell him that it was filmed by Linn? Was he going to find out by himself eventually? “You don’t have to,” she said. “I will remember it forever.” Chris rolled his eyes at her, which only made her laugh again. “It’s on Insta,” she admitted. “And I have the fragment saved on my phone.”

That confession resulted into Chris leaning over her trying to reach for her phone and Eva trying to keep it out of his reach, both of them laughing. “I’ll show you,” she reassured him eventually and he gave up. Eva took her phone and showed him the whole film. Her other favourite part may be the part where Chris was carrying Eskild, walking towards her and exclaiming her name while she was laughing behind the camera.

Eskild had been a more hyperactive version of himself, the person that Eva knew well from going out with him. Linn had been in a good mood and seemed to have a really good time. But most of all she had been looking at Chris, both during the evening and at the film now. Chris, who was messing around with Eskild, who was laughing a lot, who was looking at her.

Chris let himself fall back into the sheets in the theatrical way she was used to from him. “Eskild,”  she heard him say, something that made her grin. “Somebody to love, huh? Speaking of which, I haven’t heard from William.” Right. William’s dramatic entrance at the party. She had almost forgotten about that. In fact, she barely remembered it because she had only had eyes for Chris. She didn’t think that he would show up – she had invited him and he said he would come – but then he did and she had been delighted.

How he ended up in her bed was another story entirely. William had been Chris’ lift to Chris’ house and he hadn’t thought of how he would get back home. Eva’s mother wasn’t home, so bringing him home had been an easy solution. There may or may not have been some more hooking up involved, some making out, once they got to her bedroom, though.

Eva checked her messages and shook her head. “I haven’t heard from Noora either,” she said. “But I didn’t expect to. William and her are probably busy talking.” Talking, and possibly other forms of catching up and making up for lost time, too. If not that right now, than probably later. No one thought that William would show up from London to be with her. When Chris told her that William had a new girlfriend, Eva thought Noora may have to accept that William and her may not last after all. But now it seemed she was wrong, because William surprised everyone, Noora included.

“Busy talking?” Chris repeated with a teasing grin. “You want to talk some too, Eva?” Because of his emphasis on the word talk it was clear that she caught up on the alternative meaning of the word talk in this case. At least his flirting had gotten more subtle since they met, she had to give him that. “Maybe we can talk after we’ve had breakfast,” Eva suggested as she put her phone aside and got up from her bed.  She was aware that they should probably do some actual talking too, but not her nor Chris were good at that type of thing. They were such close friends because they didn’t want to overcomplicate their relationships. Close friends didn’t kiss her like he had kissed her last night and again this morning, though. And they didn’t stay over in her bed either.

“Oh, you’re getting me breakfast?” Chris asked. “Nice.” Eva took one of the pillows and threw it into his direction. Her aim was good, but so were his reflexes. He winked at her.

“If you want breakfast, Christoffer,” she said, pronouncing his name slowly because she knew he didn’t like it, “you need to get it yourself. I’m not bringing you breakfast.” Why leave him in her bed when he could be with her instead? And since she offered her bed, he should be the one making her breakfast and not the other way around.

“Fine,” Chris said in that annoyed undertone that secretly amused Eva endlessly. He got up from the mess that the sheets had become and stumbled out of the bed. He surprised her by wrapping one of his arms around her. “We should be talking after breakfast, Eva Mohn.”

They definitely should. Eva just wasn’t sure which version of the two he was talking about.