#I realized how many comics were done already and maybe someone needs the full picture of what happens

[limonnitsa]

all chronologically ordered comics about Seb&Ida story [for now]

first school duel

on the way of the first stroll to Hogsmeade

facing with the reality of Wizarding World

Sebastian and Muggle Studies (part 1)

Sebastian and Muggle Studies (part 2)

reciprocal gift | Ida's wand handle lore

the moment she realized her crush

[something bad happened]

just right after the Imperio incident

the Disturbance (part 1)

the Disturbance (part 2)

the Disturbance (part 3)

the Disturbance (part 4)

[at least 5 parts ahead]

the perron scene

Seb's POV after the perron scene

[a bit more events after]

minutes after the tragedy

[green-socks]

Endless Nights

Pairing: Benny Miller x gn!reader (no descriptions or pronouns)

Summary: You and Benny can't seem to get enough of each other's company. Could tonight be the night you find the courage to do something about that crush?

Words: 2,101

Warnings: Nudity but not the sexual kind, food/eating. Almost zero editing and a tired writer.

Notes: I don't always participate in Writer Wednesday, but when I do I take one look at the picture, get an idea and then go completely off the rails. Sorry. So the pic doesn't really have a lot to do with the rest of the fic but I hope that's okay. For this week's @autumnleaves1991-blog Writer Wednesday, thanks for organizing it every week!

I had the idea for midnight shopping at the supermarket with Benny and then realized I didn't want the night to end there... So it didn't. I actually like this piece, even if it probably suffered a lot from my fast writing and non-existent editing. Reader is mentioned having shorter legs than Benny but other than that I think there are no descriptions or pronouns used of reader, lmk if I'm wrong.

MASTERLIST

You and Benny have been driving around aimlessly for a couple of hours already, taking turns in picking the music, and talking about this and that while sometimes falling into a companionable silence. It still amazes you how easy and comfortable everything is with him. You have never felt like this with a crush before, used to the feeling of always obsessing over what you felt like you could and couldn’t say or do, or spending a lot of time and energy into trying to figure out what the other thought.

No, with Benny you don’t have to pretend anything or force yourself to keep the conversation running in fear of those horrid awkward silences, because both of you know that you can talk for hours on end when the mood strikes. You met through mutual friends only a few weeks ago, but the connection was clearly there. As was the obvious mutual attraction.

Strictly speaking, though, you and Benny are just friends. Nothing has ever really happened to indicate otherwise in any case. But friends don’t usually try this hard to find any excuse just to hang out, nor do you stay up late every night talking to your other friends. And when you hang out in a group you always seem to gravitate towards one another. What’s more, somehow it always seems to be just the two of you left at the end of the night, often not even noticing the others leave.

Your interactions always border on the line of obvious flirting with your touches and already formed inside jokes, but neither of you ever dare do anything that couldn’t be brushed off as innocent behavior between friends. You guess you’re both just kind of scared to take the leap - you have been burned before, and so has he.

It’s not that you doubt your own feelings for Benny, or indeed his feelings for you. Even you have to admit that he does seem pretty interested in you, but you still wave away your friends’ squeals of “he’s totally in love with you!”, mainly not wanting to get your hopes up too much.

Because a small part of you still finds it a little hard to believe; someone so handsome and funny and kind wanting to be with you? What if he likes you, but just not as much as you like him? What if you were just a second choice for someone you really like until something better comes along - again? That scares you, both of you.

Tonight has been like many other nights lately; you had been to the movies with some of your friends, but after the movie ended you had been grasping at straws to come up with a way to continue the night so they (Benny) wouldn’t go home just yet. Benny had helpfully suggested just driving around and seeing if any ideas came to mind.

Santiago in turn had rolled his eyes at you two knowingly (making both you and Benny fluster and try to fake complete nonchalance) before saying good night and leaving with the others, who apparently didn’t feel the compulsive need to continue spending time together.

--------

The sun has gone down already but you two are still enjoying each other’s company too much to go home yet.

You end up in the 24/7 supermarket parking lot, craving a midnight snack. You are reminded of your teenage years, when you used to hang around different parking lots, popping into the store to buy a soda or a candy bar, spending all day outside with friends.

The only other customers doing their midnight shopping are tired people just off their shifts or young people staying up late just for the hell of it, much like you and Benny are, in fact. You wander around the huge store together, pointing out different products you’d like to try and reviewing stuff one of you already has tried.

Before long you realize that you have already spent almost forty minutes idly wandering around the supermarket, collecting new soda or chip flavors to test. Neither of you thought to grab a basket at the entrance, so your arms are starting to get a bit full.

“Benny, do you think this might be enough?” you ask while struggling to maintain your hold on the different bags of chips.

Benny looks back at you from where he is pondering over whether to get some ice cream. “Huh, I guess. I do still wanna get a sandwich, though!” he exclaims and promptly takes off in the direction of the deli counter where they sell sandwiches and salads left over from the day.

You try to keep up with his long strides, certain that you must look a bit comical half-running after a man with your hands full of treats. Oh, well. Benny often complains about how much focus it requires of him to “modify his steps” to fit your much shorter legs, and he always forgets about it when he gets excited.

When you catch up with him, he has already picked a sandwich for himself and one for you. “I got you salmon, that’s your favorite, right?”

“Yeah, thanks!” you say a little breathlessly after your speed-walk, taken that he remembers.

As you finally get to the cash register and start loading your stuff in your bag you see Benny sneak one more candy bar among the rest of your purchases. For someone in such good physical shape he sure does like his candy.

“Where to next?” Benny inquires as you get back to the car.

“Hmm, how about this one waterfront type swimming spot? It’s pretty secluded, has a pier, and there’s a nice view to the sea. I sometimes like to sit there on the cliffs to watch the sun go down,” you suggest, and offer him directions to the place.

It’s a short drive and you show Benny where to park his car. Even though it’s somewhere around 1 a.m. and the sun went down hours ago, the night is still light enough that you can easily see where you’re going and it doesn’t feel like you’re just sitting in the dark.

You settle down on the small pier with your sandwiches and sodas and chips and munch away happily.

Benny hands you the candy bar you saw him grab earlier at the cash register “for dessert”. It has a cheesy text on the packaging about giving this to someone special. He grins and shrugs, “I know you love these”.

It’s such a simple gesture but you can’t help feeling really flattered and even more smitten with him than you already were. You don’t read too much into the text on the packaging, but even the fact that he would buy you a candy bar he knows you love - just because - warms your heart.

(What you don’t know is that the candy bars have lots of different texts to choose from, and that Benny specifically picked “give this to someone special” instead of “give this to a friend”. There was also “give this to someone you love”, but Benny worried that might scare you off.)

--------

After you’re both done with snacking you try to think of what to do next, still reluctant to pronounce this night to be over, you get an idea.

“You know what I would really like to do right now?” you ask Benny, looking out over the water that looks so tempting. “Go swim,” you announce, turning to look at him.

“You don’t have a swimsuit with you, do you?” Benny asks, turning to look at you too.

“No… But there’s no one here,” you point out with your eyebrows raised in challenge.

Benny looks at you for a few beats with a blank expression on his face, before shrugging “Alright,” and throwing off his hoodie and t-shirt, jeans following next. “What are you waiting for?” he shouts over his shoulder as he jumps from the pier into the water.

You’re left sitting there with your mouth open, blinking rapidly as you try to catch up with the fast turn of events. Shaking your head, you stand up and shrug off your clothes before quickly running after Benny and getting into the refreshing water.

The night is still warm, and the water feels wonderful. You swim to catch up with Benny.

“You know, it’s pretty dark here but I’ve basically seen you naked now,” he remarks, waggling his eyebrows, and you snort with laughter.

“Benny, you’re not allowed to make me laugh in the water or I’ll drown,” you try to say sternly.

“Oh sweetheart, I wouldn’t let you drown,” he answers in a surprisingly serious voice.

Suddenly the energy between you is full of.. something. Something new and buzzing, sort of scary but also exciting. Something you can’t quite explain. You’re swimming around each other, looking at each other intently, but not daring to say anything that would break the moment and burst the bubble.

Someone else does that for you.

A couple of teenage girls, you’d guess around 18 years old, stumble on to the pier and immediately notice you two in the water. The other girl lets out a shriek and tightens her hold on the towel around her, and before you can even try to reassure them that everything is fine, they run off giggling and shrieking some more. Evidently, they had had the same idea for a nighttime swim but found the place already occupied.

“Yeahhhh, maybe we should put some clothes on before someone calls the police,” Benny suggests dryly.

You two climb out of the water giggling and grinning broadly. You don’t have any towels with you since you didn’t exactly plan this impromptu skinny-dipping session, but Benny gives you his hoodie to help keep you warm.

Sitting back down next to Benny you’re even closer together now than earlier, ever so slowly inching closer and closer to each other. Both of you think you could pass it off as huddling for warmth if the other were to question it, but somehow you know that won’t be an issue.

Soon enough you’re snuggling together on the waterfront overlooking the sea. You stay quietly like that for some time, maybe fifteen minutes, maybe more. It’s hard to tell when the world is so still and quiet around you.

Suddenly you think that this is it, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for. In all honesty you sort of enjoy the pining stage of new relationships, but right now you feel like you might burst if you keep these feelings inside you any longer.

You turn and burrow your head into the crook of his neck and decide that you will have to take the leap now. You start pressing gentle kisses on his neck and hear Benny’s breath hitch at the first contact of your lips on his skin. He goes still as a statue, but you can feel more than hear his unsteady breathing at your actions. You’re practically vibrating with nervous excitement as you work your way up to his jaw and towards his lips.

Taking one final deep breath you close your eyes, not daring to look at Benny in the eye right now, as you bring your lips to meet his.

The kiss is sweet and unhurried, and yet your head is swimming and your whole body is buzzing with it as you melt into each other. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt, which just proves that everything really is different - better - with Benny. You pull away when you find yourself quickly out of breath just from feeling so much.

You finally dare to open your eyes to find Benny gazing at you with a dazed expression that surely mirrors your own and you slowly beam at each other, not feeling the need for words just now. Maybe you couldn’t even find them if you tried.

You settle back against his chest and the two of you stay like that for the rest of the night, sometimes spending long moments just kissing each other, sometimes talking quietly, sometimes just enjoying each other’s presence.

--------

Around five in the morning, when the sun is already getting up, you finally start to really feel the need for sleep. But this time it doesn’t feel wrong to leave and go home, since you’ll be going home together.

Later that day you wake up to a good morning, sweetheart in Benny’s arms where you fell asleep on his couch, tired but happier than you’ve ever felt in your life.

[lovely-v]

LOTR (films) Review

So I finally watched the LOTR films (20 years later). I’m super excited to review these because I read the books very recently so I feel at least a little prepared to voice some opinions. Overall I loved the films, here’s a very long (but by no means exhaustive) compilation of my thoughts, which are of course, totally subjective:

(Warning: a lot of me saying “well, actually, in the book...”)

THINGS I LIKED

- Casting! not much to say here, I thought the casting was great. One of my favorite actors that I didn’t think i’d have a huge opinion on was David Wenham as Faramir. I was kinda ambivalent on him when I saw pictures but i thought he did a great job. he showed his quality.

- Music. so much has been said about the films on the music front. I can’t offer too much original insight but when a bit of the Shire theme started to play as Frodo tries to make his way up Mount Doom I cried a little.

- Boromir and Aragorn. I liked the scene where they interact a little in Rivendell. I also like how Aragorn saves Boromir in the Moria battle and gives him this little nod of friendship. I think the films did a great job portraying the dynamic they have where Aragorn is clearly suspicious of Boromir’s motivations but grows to respect him to the point where he doesn’t even blame Boromir for being corrupted by the ring because he understands that, at heart, Boromir is a good person. 

- Sam and Frodo in Osgiliath. I expected to be kind of annoyed with the way this plot point played out (I knew ahead of time that it strayed from the book), but I actually liked it a lot. As I’ll say later, there’s some gripes I have with the way the films extremely play up the disagreements between Frodo and Sam, but I loved the scene where Frodo pulls the sword on Sam and then seems so defeated when he realizes what he’s done. I was pleasantly surprised by how emotional this scene made me. It’s admittedly A Lot, but it was done nicely, especially in conjunction with Sam’s “there’s good in this world” speech.

- Treatment of the ending. I almost think I should dislike the ending as it is in the movies, but my heart is soft and I like that they sugarcoated it a bit. I know the whole point of the Scouring of the Shire and Frodo’s depression conveys a lot about war and trauma and I think that is important, but after watching these things for twelve hours I just wanted Frodo & co. to be happy and I was kinda relieved that they cut the Scouring. Does that make me weak and perhaps bad at film analysis? yes. do I care? no. I was also very glad that the movies didn’t portray how depressed Sam was about losing Frodo in the end. Yes, he cries, but when he walks home to his family he seems happy and in the books that scene came off so much bleaker. I definitely liked the lighter tone.

THINGS I WAS NEUTRAL ON/DIDN’T LIKE

- Arwen. (Neutral) I don’t hate her, I don’t love her. I think the story she and Aragorn have is compelling and I 100% get why the filmmakers decided to add it to give her character more depth, but it felt misplaced at times. maybe it’s just because it was the only storyline I didn’t know in depth, but the scenes with the Arwen/Aragorn flashbacks felt a bit confusing and disorienting. Don’t have anything against Arwen as a character though, I think she’s pretty alright.

- Gimli. (Complicated thoughts) I want to start off by saying I don’t dislike Gimli. I like him a lot! I just think the movies did him a bit dirty. He had some good movie-exclusive moments, but I think his character really fell into this place of being the butt of too many jokes. Would have liked to see some more serious Gimli development, especially with his relationship to Legolas. Their friendship felt too much like subtext here, whereas it’s explored far more in the books.

- Two Towers Pacing. (Didn’t really like). The pacing of TTT was...weird. maybe I’m going into this with a closed mind because of the books, but it was odd to have the movie begin with Frodo and Sam and then have them only appear for a few rapid scenes after that. I think the fact that a WHOLE LOT of what happens to Frodo and Sam in TTT is moved to RotK is what makes it feel that way? In the books, Two Towers ends with Sam discovering that Frodo isn’t dead from Shelob’s sting, and I was surprised by how long it took the movies to get to that part. However, I will give the films a little leeway because I think they needed Frodo & Sam content for RotK, since most of what happens in that book is them walking through Mordor basically starving and dying. Doesn’t make for great cinema I guess, so they had to put the whole Shelob/Cirith Ungol saga into the final film. Still, I think there’s a weird lack of Frodo and Sam’s presence in TTT.

- The go home/missing bread arc. (Full of rage abt this one) yeah. so. my criticism of this is gonna sound pretty tired because people complain and complain about this part of RotK. but I’m gonna complain some more!! I don’t think the split between Frodo and Sam does anything for the plot. I really don’t. I guess it emphasizes the fact that Sam doesn’t understand how much Frodo is projecting onto Gollum, but it’s just. unnecessary angst? They had enough angst in the Osgiliath scene! Which I actually liked! And it simply doesn’t make a lot of sense for Frodo to suspect Sam of eating the bread when Sam had already offered Frodo his own food and made it clear that he would very much starve if it meant making sure Frodo could eat. But what I hate most about this scene is not that Frodo gets mad and tells Sam to go home. No. It’s that Sam actually... thinks about doing that? he actually? goes down the staircase? emotionally this is bad because Sam clearly cared enough about Frodo to follow him this far, to nearly drown for him, so why would he leave now. Practically this is bad because 1. how would Sam get out of Mordor alone and 2. where would he go. He turns around almost immediately, yes, but what was his plan. where was he going. why.

THINGS I LOVED

- For Frodo! This line, and every other shoutout to Frodo. In the books, they didn’t really actively talk about/worry about Frodo (and Sam) as much as they do in the movies. I like that they talk about Frodo more in the movies! I like that they’re thinking about him! I know it was implied that they were in the books, but I really like how it’s shown here. I think it gave a more complete picture of how much they all care about him on a personal level in addition to just needing him to succeed from a pragmatic standpoint. 

- Merry and Pippin! I feel like Merry and Pippin were so well rounded in the films. I’ve heard criticism about them being turned into comic relief characters (which they always were a little bit) but it honestly didn’t feel that way to me. They had a bit of a rough start because the films didn’t make their motives for going with Frodo as deep as the books did, but I think that by TTT they were absolutely amazing characters in every scene. In RotK their respective arcs hit really well and the scene where Pippin is singing to Denethor? *chef’s kiss* poetic. beautiful. sad. idk man I just feel like I have such a newfound appreciation for Merry and Pippin.

- Parallels! people have pointed out the parallel of Frodo and Sam’s hands before (drowning scene/mount doom scene) and I love how the movie did that. Just stunning. Also! The moving of the Smeagol & Deagol scene to RotK surprised me because in the books it was like,,,at the beginning of Fellowship, but I think the placement of it in the movies really helped emphasize the similarities between Smeagol & Deagol and Frodo & Sam (and how much Frodo fears this similarity.) There were a lot of other well done parallels between storylines and a few bits of dialogue that were repeated with great timing, but I can’t remember all of them at the moment.  

Edit: here’s one I remembered! when Frodo wakes up after being rescued and sees Gandalf, he says Gandalf’s name in a very similar tone to the one he used at the very beginning of Fellowship. It was a nice little subtle connection.

- I can’t carry it for you...alright this is self-indulgent. everyone knows I love this line. I’m just so glad it made it into the movie intact. Sean Astin’s delivery was amazing. I cheered. My mom cheered. It’s a raw line and it makes me feel secret emotions...like if shrimp colors were feelings. that line makes me feel shrimp feelings. idk i’m so tired i just watched twelve hours of movies this review is decreasing in quality by the minute but i’m about done for now anyway

Various silly afterthoughts

- I would have liked to see Sam kiss Frodo’s hands at least once. This happens 50 thousand times in the books, they could have given me one scene. one little extended edition scene. Please Peter Jackson I’m dyin’ out here

- They literally made Gollum so hateable. kinda the point yes, but I was so on board with Sam’s murderous rage. I know why Gollum’s a profoundly complex character, I know why Frodo pities him, I know why murder is bad, but I too would throw hands with that creature. also he literally body shamed Sam so much what was that skdjksdjksd. Sam is lovely. let him commit a small homicide. 

- the scene where merry and pippin drink the tall boy juice (as someone once referred to it in the tags of one of my posts)... not accurate to the books (since they don’t ever drink it with the end goal of getting tall) but so accurate to life. if I found some water that made me taller than my friends? let me at it

- Frodo panicking when he falls into the spider webs. so real bestie. i felt just as panicked watching that. i am terrified of spiders and Elijah Wood did an amazing job doing exactly what i’d do in the situation. yelping a lot and falling down.

- I feel like it’s never stated that Sam’s a gardener (or at least that he’s specifically Frodo’s gardener) until he tells Faramir he is. Did I miss this. Or do they really never say.  are you just meant to know. are you just meant to pick up gardener vibes from him.

*

This has been a very chaotic lotr movie review. Thanks for reading.

[t-lostinworlds]

Clumsy (Tom Holland)

A/N: This one is short but sweet. Also, I made some minor changes anon I hope you don’t mind <3 and to the others who sent in an ask, I’m working on em! just patience lovelies. Hope you guys enjoy this one!

Pairing: Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Requested:

Warnings: Nada and maybe typos

Word Count: 2.4k+

Masterlist in Bio

-:-:-:-:-

It's very remarkable how you've managed to make the public believe you weren't together. Seeming friends in the eyes of strangers when in reality, 'in love' is all you see in the gaze of one another the moment you're alone.

Granted there are a few who are still speculating, that never does go away. But the majority of his fans do think you're nothing more than just a part of Tom's close circle of friends, one of the boys as some would say.

An unwritten rule was established when you two got together, only going out in public with the group all while making sure that public displays of affection were kept at a minimal. By default, people thought that you weren't dating Tom as you two where never seen alone together.

Unless it was a remote area where no one would be able to see or recognize you, then you and Tom can take all the alone-time and stroll around as much as you want, as close as you desire to be.

It was peaceful like that, no unwanted eyes peering through your relationship like it's some reality show, throwing their two cents as if they're opinions matter. It truly doesn't because by the end of it all, you and Tom are the ones who are in a relationship, not you, Tom and the world.

However, you can't always hide the truth for eternity, someday, in whatever way, it will slowly come out whether you like it or not.

You and Tom knew that of course, it was just the case of when you're ready to share it with the world. But no matter how many times you've discussed on how you were going to come clean, neither you nor Tom expected your relationship to be revealed in such an unexpected and odd way.

It was another day, another comic con in the life of Spider-Man.

You've been traveling with Tom for most of the press tour, and having that you had no better way to spend the day other than rot in a hotel room, you decided to tag along. Harry was with you as always – to lessen any suspicion – with a camera hanging on his neck to photograph every moment.

You were now walking towards the backstage of the last panel, tailing just behind Tom with Harry by your right, big burly bodyguards surrounding all corners to make sure no one gets trampled.

Thomas was being clingy. He regularly is, but this time more than usual. It was obvious how he's itching to get a hold of you as he kept looking over his shoulder, hand swinging a little too much to the back for him to just brush yours.

It was so adorable that you couldn't even try to hide your giggles.

"Stop being so cute or else." You hear him mumble, just under his breath, your eyes meeting as he turns his head to shoot you another glance, pout in full play.

You flashed him an innocent smile, shrugging your shoulders as you clearly haven't done anything. Tom sighed as he tore his eyes off you to look back ahead.

He was dying to just hold you, to have your warmth coat him as he snuggles close to your skin. Your cuddles and kisses, he was in dire need of those at the moment.

Maybe it's because he was a bit knackered, having done a meet and greet with the countless interviews to add beforehand. And when he's tired, he just wants to snuggle with you right after, to be in each other's arms, for you to ground him back as you are his anchor through all this chaos of a lifestyle.

But alas, the numerous eyes around you was making it hard to sneak a loving embrace, he'll have to wait until everything is all over.

Finally reaching backstage and inside these long black curtains, your eyes were constricted by how dim it was. It wasn't dark by all means, but the only sources of light were the once placed on the floor. Clumsiness being part of your blood — not by choice — you were busy trying to not trip over something that you didn't realize that someone was approaching.

You felt a gentle hand wrap around your wrist, making you look up to see Tom with a certain curve on his lips and a gloss over his eyes which usually means he needed something. Before you could even ask him what it was, he turned to his brother.

"Cover for us for a sec Harry."

Leaving a confused looking Harry, Tom dragged you behind these tall and big black boxes, completely hidden from plain sight unless someone would peak their head in fully through the gap.

"What's up?"

Tom didn't even bother to answer your question. He just wrapped his arms around your waist, leaning down to sweetly capture your lips in his with a satisfied sigh. You giggled as you kissed him back, arms taking home over his shoulders as you pulled him close.

"I really needed that, needed a recharge." Tom breathed out, withdrawing from the kiss for some air, pressing his forehead against yours with a soft, content smile on his lips.

You felt your heart burst at that, a soft coo escaping your lips as you run your fingers through his hair right on the nape of his neck.

"As much as I would love to kiss you some more, we can't be gone for too long." You gave him a sympathetic smile. He's a very important person in this comic con, so when he goes missing — even for just a little bit — people tend to notice.

Tom nodded with a sigh. "I know, but just one more please." With those adorable puppy eyes and the cutest pout he could muster, how could you say no to that?

You got back just in time for Tom to be given a microphone and then ushered on stage, the crowd roaring in delight at the sight of their favorite superhero.

You could only watch on the sidelines with a smug grin on your lips, utter pride and genuine happiness coursing through your bones at the sight of Tom's wide smile as he waves at the crowd.

***

Everything was all wrapped up and you were finally on your way back to the hotel. If only it was as quick and easy as getting out of the venue and inside the car in a snap, but you're with Tom Holland, what did you expect?

There were a few fans on your way out, Tom walking ahead again to take a couple photos with them and sign a few stuff too.

You were laughing at something stupid Harry had said that by sheer dumb luck, you managed to hook your foot on a protruding cable wire, your whole body falling forward in one swift motion and landing on the floor with a hard thump.

The loud yelp you let out was enough for all eyes to be on you, especially Tom's.

You ignored the stares and tried to get up quickly with the help of Harry, but the slight movement only made you wince, a sharp pain coursing through your leg that made you grit your teeth with a hiss. You only managed to turn and sit on your bum, after that, you weren't able to make another move, eyes screwing shut at the constant throb on your foot.

Forgetting all the rules you've set when you're in public, Tom was by your side in an instant, eyes swimming with concern as he crouched down in front of you, cupping your face with both hands to check what was wrong.

"What hurts love?"

"Ankle." You muttered under your breath, head leaning forward to land on his chest reluctantly, the pain just too much for you to stay upright.

Whispers of the people and the clicking of phones were soon heard not long after, but Tom could careless as all his was attention on you, too worried to give a damn at the moment. He knows well enough just how much it hurts to twist your ankle; he's been there before a couple of times. But when it's you who's hurting, Tom's worry always comes tenfold.

He needed to get you off the floor, away from the snooping eyes, and get you to a hospital fast. You never know just by one look if it's just a light sprain or something serious, better safe than sorry.

"I'm going to carry you okay darling? It's going to hurt but just for a second." Tom whispered, brushing your hair away from your face delicately. As soon as you gave him a small nod, Tom placed a reassuring kiss on your forehead before wrapping an arm around your body as the other hooked right under your knees, hoisting you up bridal style.

You whimpered in agony as you buried your face on his shirt, your arms going around his neck for support, Tom muttering sweet 'I'm sorry's over and over against your hair for causing you the discomfort.

Sure, Tom could've just let one of his bodyguards carry you but he doesn't trust them well enough to know if they'd be gentle with you. Of course there was a voice inside his head on how there was no way you'd go back to hiding this relationship anymore, but Tom tuned it out, more focused on you than anything else. He'll worry about that later.

Tom was saying something to Harry and his agent that you couldn't quite comprehend, the throbbing pain making you feel lightheaded that you weren't fully aware of what's happening around you.

"I've got you my love." You hear Tom whisper as he walks out of the venue with you in his arms, ignoring all the questioning looks and the countless of photos being taken just to get you some much needed medical attention fast.

***

"Well, the internet is definitely buzzing." Tom joked, gently scooting closer beside where you sat on the hotel bed, ankle all wrapped up in a cast while being elevated by a pillow.

Numerous headlines were already popping up by the minute due to that little mishap earlier, a picture of you on the floor with Tom and then of you in his arms circling the internet to match.

Some fans were saying they knew it, and some totally not expecting it, even though neither of you have confirmed anything whatsoever. But the media, they tend to draw a conclusion without having much to go about.

"I'm sorry." You frowned at him. Despite his playful tone, you can see it in his face how troubled he was, you can practically see those gears turning inside his head.

Yes, Tom was worried, but not because the secret was finally out, it was mainly about how the fans were going to treat you. The internet can be cruel at times, and you weren't trained for that kind of attention. Tom is the public figure, not you. He signed up for this, you didn't.

Throwing an arm over your shoulder to pull you closer to him gently, Tom shook his head at you. "Hey, you did absolutely nothing wrong."

"If I wasn't clumsy this wouldn't have happened." You said shamefully, the embarrassment from your little stunt still there, and of course, the disheartened feeling being that you took the choice away from the both of you, the choice of when you were going to go public.

"But I love you and your clumsiness darling. And it's alright. We're going to be fine." Tom placed a reassuring kiss on your forehead, hand rubbing your arm comfortingly, lovingly that has you sighing with gratitude that there was no ill-will in his voice, even in the slightest.

"I think we should say something." You pulled away from his arms slightly to be able to look at him fully. Tom knitted his eyebrows at you in question. "About what?"

"Us." You stated simply, and Tom didn't need any further explanation, he already knows that you meant officially confirming that you two were in fact together.

Tom stared at you for a full second, brown orbs searching yours if you were genuinely certain about the decision. "Are you sure angel?"

You nodded at him with a sincere smile, ready for all the things that come with it, but also excited to be able to hold him, to cherish him without having to worry every second if someone was watching. "Yeah, plus I'm kind of tired of hiding."

Tom chuckled, leaning down to plant a chaste kiss on your lips, a kiss full of gratitude, adoration and pure love for such an amazing woman like you before pulling away to get a hold of his phone.

"Okay. But what should I post?" He asked, frankly having no clue as to what to say or do.

"Up to you Tom." As if there was a hidden message in your words — there wasn't — Tom's whole face lit up, an 'aha!' moment crossing his features before he went tapping away on his phone in concentration.

You let him be as you paid your attention back on the television screen, but it didn't take too long until Tom handed the device to you.

"You do the honors my love." Tom grinned smugly as he showed you the post he's created on Instagram, you letting out a hearty laugh at how dorky yet adorable it was.

It was a collaged photo of you and him. The upper half was of him in his trailer on the set of Cherry, sporting the US military uniform as he leaned back on the couch, a towel covering his face while the medic patched up his ankle. The bottom half was a photo of you earlier — that Harry took without your knowledge — almost in the same predicament.

The only difference was that you were on a hospital bed as the doctor wrapped your ankle up, and instead of a towel, you had your arm over to cover your face, Tom right by your side for moral support.

The caption only had two words: Relationship Goals.

After pressing the blue-colored Share button on the upper-right corner, you handed Tom his phone back, both of you mirroring wide and satisfied smiles.

Granted, there will be challenges with having your relationship out there, and maybe you were going to face most of it even. But with just one look at him, the feeling of being wrapped in his warm embrace, the pure happiness that courses through you whenever you're with him, just being with the absolute love of your life...

It was all worth it.

-:-:-:-:-

Like, Reblog & Leave a Comment if you enjoyed! Let me know what you think! <3

Tom H. Taglist: @spacebitch2​​ @hollanddolanfangirl​ @keepingupwiththehollands​

[thevioletjones]

31, because I can’t see it fitting Ian/Mickey easily and know you’re a good enough writer to prove me wrong ☺️

Thanks! I tried. 🙂

Prompt 6: “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.”

Ian’s Box of Crap

Being currently unemployed, Mickey didn’t have much of a leg to stand on when attempting to deflect Ian’s demands that he get chores and household tasks done while his husband was out earning an honest paycheck. He wasn’t even allowed to shake people down anymore, let alone pull robberies, or get back into the drug trade. Ian had made it clear that divorce wasn't off the table if Mickey deliberately did something stupid that got him thrown back in prison for a long stretch.

He didn’t much like being told what to do, but what he liked even less was not having Ian in his life. He’d had to go too many years without him in the past, and nothing good ever came during those times. Unfortunately, Ian Gallagher was it for Mickey Milkovich. That meant that he actually had to stay in line and put in the work if he didn’t want to lose him again. Ian wasn’t as soft as he used to be. Never really had been at his core, but the maturity of age had cemented his backbone rather rigidly, and Mickey was actually loathe to piss him off too badly these days.

So he did the bullshit grunt work requested of him, just to keep the peace. He was tired of fighting every day of his life, and what was the point of marrying Ian if they weren’t going to try and make each other happy?

In the past couple weeks, Mickey had done everything from laundry and dishes, to vacuuming and mopping. He’d patched up a couple of big holes in the wall that Frank had made, and fixed the loose parts of the wooden outdoor steps and banisters, both front and back. He’d even gone so far as to babysit the tiny, helpless Gallagher spawn a few times, which had been interesting and somewhat terrifying. Then Ian had given him this look when he caught the scene one afternoon, eyes shining, smile beaming. It reminded him of that brief time they’d helped take care of Yevgeny, which made Mickey’s head spin. He didn’t need Gallagher getting the whole ‘having kids’ thing back in his head right now. Mickey was in no way ready for all that. Hadn’t been the first time, and they’d all seen how that turned out.

Today, he was supposed to clean out the attic. He told Ian that asking someone outside the family to do it sounded like a bad idea. How was he supposed to know what shit the Gallaghers wanted to keep, and what they wanted to get rid of? What if he made a mistake? If anyone had asked him what to keep from the hoarded piles of shit in the Milkovich house, he would’ve laughed in their face, then set everything on fire. Mickey wasn’t the sentimental type. So did Ian want him to just toss everything?

Ian had rolled his eyes, clarified that Mickey was a Gallagher now, and given him a run-down. Anything that had obviously been made or cherished by a Gallagher kid, any family photos and albums, or small boxes of keepsakes, those stayed. Anything that wasn’t being used by anyone, but could be of use and handed down to the youngest or recently shacked up of them, set them aside to be put in rotation. Anything that worked, but they already had one of or didn’t need, donation box (because apparently they actually sometimes donated shit to the local shelter). And anything that looked completely unnecessary for anyone, throw it in a Best Choice trash bag, but don't take them to the curb yet. Ian would go over everything when he got home to make sure it was sorted correctly.

“So you’re gettin' me to do all this boring-ass grunt work, then you’re gonna have to go through it anyway? What the fuck, man?” he’d asked.

“It'll make the whole thing way easier on me, so can you just shut the fuck up and do me the favor? I’ll blow you later for your trouble.”

“Like you wouldn’t be doin’ that anyway.”

Ian had shrugged. “If you don’t, I won’t.”

“Threatening to withhold sex? That’s a bitch move if I ever heard one.”

“Whatever, deadbeat. You want me to support you, gotta help out when I ask. A blowjob would just be a bonus, because I’m generous of spirit.”

“I’m not gonna forget this hardcore manipulation, Firecrotch. I’ll get my revenge eventually.”

Ian merely kissed him on the nose. “Sounds like a plan. See ya.”

And he was out the door.

“Asshole,” Mickey’d muttered under his breath.

And now, a few hours later, here he was; sitting on the dusty, hard planks of the weird-smelling Gallagher attic, sorting through the memories and forgotten things of the family he’d married into less than six months ago. He’d dawdled as long as he could on the couch, eating junk food and watching his favorite daytime game shows, judge shows, and salacious ‘who’s the baby daddy?’ shows. The only hint of fun left in the remainder of his day was in the bong and the beer he’d brought with him up the rickety ladder. After every box sorted, he’d take a rip or two and chase the smoke with a long swig of cheap alcohol.

The most interesting things he’d found so far were some old pictures of Ian when he was little, his hair a curly mess, and his pale skin covered in dark freckles. His smile was too big for his face, and he looked goofy as all hell. Nothing like the hot hunk of man he was today. It was the Ian Mickey remembered from Little League a million years ago. And maybe he’d set one of the photos aside to keep for himself and taken some pics of others with his phone, so what?

Mostly he’d had to sift through little Debbie’s ridiculous girly shit, and Frank’s completely random assortment of insignificant trinkets with a side of what looked like bondage gear. He’d since moved on to a group of boxes obviously labeled by Carl when he was younger. He recognized the scrawl, occasional backwards lettering, and lack of possessive apostrophes. The words were short enough not to be atrociously misspelled, and consisted of a Gallagher first name in plural, followed by: ‘box of crap.’

Everybody had one, including Fiona, who hadn’t taken it with her when she’d left Chicago, and the kids she’d raised as her own, behind. The most scandalous item in there was a dildo of decent size that Mickey definitely would’ve packed in his suitcase if he’d been the one moving away as a single chick. The thought crossed his mind to pilfer it for his own collection, but he figured that Ian would be weirded out by the association. Sex toys were probably the only thing Gallaghers never shared between them.

Carl had a box of his own, semi-well-hidden compared to the others, and Mickey discovered why when he’d managed to get the copious amount of packing tape off. It was full of straight porn mags with big-tittied women and shaved pussies, underneath an array of dangerous weapons the family had forbidden him to have when he was underaged. He found everything from nunchucks, to throwing stars, to switchblades, to brass knuckles. No guns or attempted homemade bombs, thank fuck. He chucked the porn in the trash pile, cuz nobody needed to see that shit, and set the switchblade aside for himself, deciding to give the rest to Ian to sort out.

He saved Ian’s box for last, opening it up to find a grab bag of old army decorations, tattered paperbacks, comics, a bunch of loose paper covered in scribbles, and a stack of notebooks.

Mickey didn’t realize Ian was such a huge nerd that he’d kept his high school notebooks, but giving a quick flip through the first two revealed they weren’t school-related at all. He remembered Ian going through a phase when he was always writing shit down, ranting about having great ideas he needed to save for posterity. Before he went to the hospital. A manic phase. Probably one of many he’d cycled through, yet Mickey had missed some of those extremes.

Everything had been so chaotic then. He’d pushed Ian away, then gotten the same treatment in return. Their typical messiness pervaded everything back then. And now, he had in his hands Ian’s unfiltered thoughts about what happened back then.

“Fuck,” he said to himself, setting the notebooks down and going for the beer/weed combo again.

There were exactly two ways to go about this: he could put the notebooks back into the Ian box and not invade his privacy, or he could skim through them and hone in on the interesting relevant bits and maybe get a few long-pondered answers. On the one hand, Ian would probably get pissed if Mickey read them. On the other hand, Ian never had to know about it, did he?

It really wasn’t much of a choice… he’d always been curious as to what the hell was going through Ian’s head back in the day. They’d never exactly been great at talking things out, and he didn’t have it in him to try and make Ian relive some of the lowest moments of his life just to give Mickey some peace of mind. Plus, they were always facing some new bullshit obstacle head-on, so the past always just kind of got lost in the shuffle of their present difficulties.

Mickey took a deep breath and opened one of the notebooks again. The pages weren’t dated, and a lot of it didn’t make much sense. There were many lists with lines crossed out, but they didn’t describe things ‘to do,’ more like an endless inventory of concepts and feelings. The thought patterns were totally abstract, and Mickey couldn’t really make heads or tails of them. It hit him sharply in the chest when he realized that when Ian had been out of it, he’d really and truly been fucking out of it. These seemed like the crazed rantings of an unmedicated schizophrenic babbling on public transportation. It pained Mickey to the core, and it scared the shit out of him too.

He flipped through it fairly quickly, then opened the next one. It seemed to be calmer, more legible, and less unintelligible. It was more like a diary with bad poetry sprinkled in, and it only took a few pages for Mickey’s own name to jump out at him among the wall of words. It must have been written during Ian’s lost months, after going AWOL from the Army when he was 17.

He described running away from Chicago, scamming his early enlistment, crashing and burning his way out of bootcamp, shaking and selling his ass as a club boy, snorting, smoking, and swallowing all manner of substances, and crashing anywhere from penthouses to flophouses with sexual favors sprinkled in liberally. It was like the chronicle of a person going mad and coping in all the wrong ways. It surprised Mickey how emotional it made him to read these things in vivid detail. He’d completely forgotten how worried he used to be about Ian. When he was gone, when he went missing again, and when he started doing irrational things that could’ve ended so much worse than they did.

Ian was the one that had to live out all the drama and trauma of his disorder, but Mickey was the one caught on the sidelines, not having a single clue what to do or how to fix it. He’d never felt so useless or helpless in his entire life, even through all the bullshit he’d suffered growing up with Terry as a father. Maybe it was because of his age, or how Ian made him feel a certain way he’d never felt before. He just remembered hating it, and being so fucking sad.

These pages reminded him that through the mania, Ian was a bottomless well of sadness himself.

It was tough text to get through, and more than once, he felt like maybe he shouldn’t be reading it at all. Ian had never intended for other people to see his innermost thoughts, even Mickey. But it was impossible to stop now that he’d opened that floodgate. It was like reliving a part of their shared history through the eyes of his partner in crime. It was too fascinating.

After countless pages of dark tales from the void, Mickey came upon a page that was actually addressed to him. Surely, Ian had never intended to hand it over, but it was his nonetheless.

Mickey— I never had the balls to tell you this, But you’re the only boy I’ve ever loved. I thought you loved me too, But now I’m not so sure. I’m so confused and I go back and forth, Never really knowing what to actually think, Or what the truth is. All I really realize now is that I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you. It took you forever to let me, And now I just do it with anyone, Cuz I don’t fucking care. I just miss you, And I wish you were here. But also, I don’t, Cuz I don’t want you to see me like this. I’m having a great time on my own adventure, But also not. You shouldn’t be a part of it right now. You’re on your own strange journey, I guess. Maybe one day we’ll be on the same road together again, And also for the first time, since we never really were.

Mickey barely had enough time to sniff and wipe away the stray tear that had fallen, when his husband’s voice startled him out of his reverie.

“You’re still up here?”

“Jesus Christ!” he cried out with a visible jolt of his body.

His head snapped toward the attic hatch, where Ian’s dumb red head was surveying the musty space. Mickey let the notebook fall from his grasp, but Ian was already climbing the rest of the way in before it occurred to him that he was about to be caught red-handed with journals that were supposed to be deeply private. He could only flip it closed and grab his beer to polish it off, before Ian was crouching in front of him and taking a seat.

“Can’t believe you actually did this for me, to be honest,” Ian said with a chuckle, glancing at the bong. “Anything left?”

“Baggie’s right there,” Mickey replied nodding his head to the left.

“Nice.”

Ian got distracted with loading a bowl, so Mickey very subtly tried to nudge Ian's notebooks aside with his foot, like maybe if they were slightly farther away, he could claim complete innocence as to knowing what they were.

He watched Ian take a couple hits before passing it to him, and Mickey welcomed the opportunity to temper his suddenly sullen mood.

“How was work?” he asked between hits, before passing back to Ian.

Ian snickered and furrowed his brow. “You never ask me about work.”

Mickey shrugged. “Don’t mean I don’t care.”

“Uh huh.” Ian looked even more skeptical, and finally glanced around at what Mickey had in his vicinity. That sent his brow up high, in a decent imitation of Mickey’s usual expressiveness. “Oh. That my box?”

Mickey gulped and nodded. “Yeah. Just sorting it out. Should’ve just left the whole thing for ya. Sorry.”

Ian’s gaze snapped to his face. “You read stuff.”

It was a statement rather than a question.

“Just a little,” Mickey admitted. “I shouldn’t have. Fuck, I’m an asshole.”

But Ian only shook his head. “Nah, it’s okay.”

“You don’t have to say that. I’d be pissed.”

“I’m not. I promise.”

“Really? You’re not mad?”

Ian shook his head again. “No. Actually, I’m kinda relieved.”

“How the fuck so?”

“It's all stuff I wanted you to know. I mean, part of me used to be really ashamed, maybe still is, but… another part of me always just wanted to be totally honest with you. In a way I haven’t ever been with anyone. Even Lip. But I didn’t have the words to say it, you know? And I know a lot of it is just scary rambling. I don’t even understand what some of it means, but the stuff that’s real… the lucid stuff… it’s depressing as fuck, but it’s the truth. We didn’t always tell each other the truth, but we showed each other. And this was something I couldn’t really show you. So maybe you were meant to find these. Do my dirty work for me.”

“Damn, Gallagher, that’s kinda heavy. These were… kinda heavy. Made me feel shit I’d forgotten about, you know?”

Ian nodded. “Yeah. I haven’t read ‘em in years, but I remember. It’s why I wanted to put ‘em away, I guess. Plus, I didn’t want someone else snooping around and finding out too much. I mean, you never know in this house. It’s possible every fucking Gallagher already read them, but I hope not.”

“Ian…” Mickey started, but didn’t know exactly what he wanted to say. Words of reassurance? It was all in the past, and Ian was doing so well now. He was diligent about his medication, and he hadn’t spun out of control since before prison. Anything Mickey said now would just be cold comfort, since that notebook version of Ian barely existed anymore. Ian was always afraid that it would recur, but Mickey wasn’t. They were truly in it together now, and he’d never let Ian cross the threshold into the uncontrollable. “I wish I coulda been what you needed me to be back then. However impossible it was. Some of it was my fault.”

“It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t even my fault, really. It was some shitty shit that happened to me. I reacted the only way I thought I could. There’s no use in either of us wishing we’d done things differently now. At least we got the right outcome, right? We’re together.” He clasped their left hands so that their wedding rings touched. “Forever.”

Mickey couldn’t help but snort. “Okay, you didn’t have to get that gay about it. I already had to suffer through a buncha your faggy teen poetry. I deserve a break from the high drama of it all.”

Ian laughed, kissed his hand, dropped it, then smacked him on the cheek. “Fuck you.”

“Just say when,” Mickey responded with a smile.

“After we go through all this shit, Romeo. Explain the piles.”

“Well,” said Mickey, pointing to the nearby corner, “Carl has a shitload of contraband in there. Weapons, not drugs. Frank has some shit that might be S&M gear, not sure, then aside from your lunatic journal ramblings, everything else is boring as shit. Oh, and Fiona left a big blue dildo.”

[loopy777]

RE: WIPs game: do I even want to know what Dicebenders is is it another scam how many times are the Gaang gonna get arrested for scamming

No, this time it's me scamming people. XD The dice in question are the RPG Dungeons & Dragons kind.

For a while I was doing a screencap webcomic in the style of "DM of the Rings" and "Darths & Droids" with another creative fan named Captain Boomerang. I was the scriptwriter and selected the screenshots for each panel, and Capt-BA would assemble the comics and improve my scripts (a process that did frustrate me a little, as I felt locked out of the revision process, but I did like the results. I just felt like I wasn't holding up my end of the partnership a bit). I wrote a story bible explaining the characters and storytelling rules, planned out the adaptation of the entire AtLA premiere, and had less detailed plans for the rest of the series, but we only got 6 comics in before Capt-BA went on a trip and never returned to the internet. I did manage to re-establish contact with her long enough to get permission to continue the comic, but the problem is that I have no image-editing skills whatsoever.

If I could find comic-making software that I know would do what I want and be easy to use, I wouldn't mind dropping some money on it, but everything I've looked at is trying to do lots of things I don't need. I only want a way to import existing pictures into comic grids, and then easily add dialogue bubbles. That's it. But the stuff I've found is more about image-editing than comic assembly, and it takes me an hour to put together a dialogue bubble that looks good. So I have 3 scripts that were never produced, which along with the planning docs are what's in that WIP folder, and I don't ever see myself going beyond that.

Besides, someone else already managed to complete something like this, and while I'm not a fan, I don't need to be. At this point, Dicebenders is dead. I'm glad I tried it, and it's a shame it didn't work out, but I'm happy with the other projects I've done instead.

I am squatting on an empty Tumblr for it, though.

Anyway, to share something new, here's the first section of the Story Bible I wrote to make sure Capt-BA and I were on the same page in terms of characterization. The rest of the bible details the plotlines for full series.

AVATAR: THE LAST DICEBENDER

BIBLE

Premise- A small group of players attempt to run a fantasy martial arts RPG that winds up essentially becoming the Avatar saga, or something very close. The main point of the series is comedy, based mostly on ridiculous links between Avatar and RPG's. Sometimes the humor will be in the vast difference between what happens in the comic, and what happens in the cartoon with the same screenshots. Other times, the funny will come from the unexpected ways they converge.

SPIRITUAL PREDECESSORS

DM of the Rings- The original, and my personal favorite. It's a good showcase of how to run a single quest together, while using narrative jumps to skip to the good bits.

Darths & Droids- A similar project, this stands out from its predecessor in two main ways. The players and GM are more friendly with each other, and are more or less having fun with each other. There is also a running, coherent storyline in both the game and in the lives of the players.

Benders & Brawlers- This is actually an existing attempt to do Darths & Droids with Avatar. This is helpful as an example of what we DON'T want to do, retell the Avatar story in a completely straightforward manner, with RPG players behind the characters.

CHARACTERS

None of the characters will be given real names. The players shall always be referred to by their character names, although this can be done in a teasing, ironic manner. When the characters are speaking, their dialogue bubble must always be attached to an image of the character.

The Gamemaster- The GM is a female in her early teens. She is a geek, and a bit of a social outcast for it. Nevertheless, she's trying to make that work for her, although she's not quite mature enough to make it happen yet. She has just discovered RPG's, and in her enthusiasm has gone all out in starting her own campaign. The only problem is that she doesn't know how to recruit players, so she ropes her best friend and little brother into playing with her. This is the GM's first campaign, so she'll a little in over her head. She knows the mechanics of play, and what she's supposed to be doing as GM, but doesn't have the fine skill in crafting an engaging RPG experience. Still, she wants to do her best, is willing to learn, and has a positive attitude about the whole thing. The GM has a strong crush on the Sokka player, but the only way she can express it is by having all the female NPC's flirt with the Sokka character.

Katara- Female in early teens, and the GM's best friend. Katara's player was friends with the GM from when they were both in grammar school, so while they have grown up into wildly different personality types, they are fully loyal to each other. Katara is popular, and outgoing, and doesn't care or know about geek stuff at all. She's only playing the game because the GM begged her to. At first, Katara is clueless about RPG's, and frequently questions or ridicules the mechanics of the game. She never quite gets into the idea of role-playing, but quickly takes to the idea of meta-gaming. She'll have her character act like a righteous do-gooder, because completing missions and fighting bad guys earns XP. She hoards items that will boost her stats. She'll advocate abandoning a mission/plot if it doesn't pay out enough rewards. Katara's player also can tend towards trying to Mary Sue her character, but this is inconsistent and usually shot down by everyone else.

Aang- Male in junior high, and the GM's little brother. He plays simply because his sister has cajoled him into it, and there are hints that he's getting some kind of reward or payment for it. He abuses his position by forcing the GM to give him what he wants in the game, even if it breaks the rules- access to the restricted Airbender class, the ability to bend all four elements, overloaded stats, an Avatar State that protects him from dying, a magic super flying cow ride, etc. However, it's important to note that Aang's player isn't a jerk. He's just immature, and like all kids, just always goes for what he wants via the easiest path, and doesn't realize that he may be causing trouble or hurting feelings. He's enthusiastic about trying out this RPG thing, but he has trouble coming up with any action beyond attacking or retreating. He's also hyper aware that the GM and Katara are girls. He is too old for cootie concerns, but thinks that girls are fundamentally different creatures with their own incomprehensible concerns. Having a big sister, he doesn't find this a big deal, just part of life. Aang's player is too young to be a geek. He likes cartoons and sports and fantasy and school-dramas. He also tends to follow whatever his sister likes.

Sokka- Male in late teens. This guy is your quintessential RPG player. He has is own top-quality dice, he's played campaigns and systems of all kinds, and knows the tropes of the hobby cold. He's a huge geek for all things geeky, but roleplay is easily his favorite. He's a social outcast, but he's made friends among his fellow geeks, and thinks life is just fine. Sokka's player joins when he meets the GM at the comic/games shop they both frequent. The GM was buying some sourcebooks and material to support the fantasy martial arts game she's running, and Sokka noticed, asked about it, liked what he heard, and got permission to join the game. What Sokka doesn't realize, because he is a geek and neither has experience with it or realizes it's even possible, is that the GM is sweet on him. This manifests in the character Sokka's canon luck with the ladies, only kicked up a notch. *Every single* female NPC flirts with him, whether it's appropriate or not. Sometimes player Sokka notices and tries to roleplay it, and sometimes he's just plain confused. Sokka has a few quirks. His best set of dice are his Lucky Red Dice, which always roll high when he needs it, but have been tested and proven to be fair dice. He also mandates that every character he plays use a boomerang; he was turned into a geek by the first video game he ever played, a Legend of Zelda title, and his favorite weapon from those games are the boomerang. Each of his characters has a unique, named boomerang.

Zuko- The GM's favorite NPC. She created him to be a compelling, dramatic character, with a complicated back story, moral struggles, badass loner personality, angst about his existence, a darkly noble quality, and a cool scar. The GM intended Katara to get to know Zuko, for her to try to woo him away from the side of evil, and perhaps to even have a romance with him. The PC's, however, couldn't care less about him. To them, he's just another mini-boss, and the fact that most of his character development is happening "off screen" means they don't realize that he's recruitable. A frequent gag is Zuko delivering a stirring monologue while no one pays attention.

Iroh- Background NPC. The GM tries to use him to give (ignored) hints to the players.

Toph- (tentative) A male munchkin gamer who picked a long list of weaknesses in order to get superbending. Toph's player is a friend of Sokka's player, brought in after an "incident" with his old group, and causes some initial resentment in the group when tries to show the n00bs how its done. Cowing Toph's player is a major victory for the GM.

Momo- NPC, but maybe make him a talking sidekick who gives the players hints when the GM is really exasperated?

Azula- the GM's best favorite villain. Azula is the GM unleashed, letting her take out frustrations on the players in both combat and harsh taunting. Eventually the GM comes to like the character so much, she retcons mental health issues into the character's backstory, and has her pet NPC, Zuko, spare her.

[alloveroliver]

Victor x MC “Snowfall”

Rating: Ch 1 is Fluff

Summary:  On a fateful business trip, Victor takes a chance during a snowstorm to pick MC up, when taxies won’t brave the storm any longer, to take her to the airport. They both try to make it back to Loveland before new years, but the weather only gets worse, forcing them to make a stop at his old family cabin in the middle of nowhere. The two, hardly acquaintances, are shoved together under one roof for a long weekend. They slowly get to know one another, and Victor begins to unravel his tightly bound knots and shows her who really is hiding behind his stern mask.

A|N: Slow Burn~  Getting to know each other, mutual pining.

WC: 7,800~

Mr. Love: Queen’s Choice Fanfic

Chapter 1

Snow fell in thick clumps all around the vehicle as they shot past another blurry exit sign. She adjusted her legs, crossing and recrossing them over the heated leather seat. Her thick stockings slid over the fabric while she positioned herself. They were stylish but proved to have a hard time insulating heat against her chilly skin. After being cooped up in a car for so long with Victor, it was hard to remain still like he asked. She grew antsier as the road stretched on, but Victor seemed to become the opposite.

“I think that sign said ‘Exit 41’” She tapped the cold glass in the direction of the road. Even in the heated car, a hint of fog filled the air from her breath. 

The air outside was relentless as the snow fell in thick sheets. The weather gave no heed to the two traveling though it and continued its assault upon the landscape. Not a house, gas station, or any sign of life was around for miles. The only proof they were still in civilization was the four-lane paved road they carefully traveled upon. They hadn’t even seen another car in hours, assuming the weatherman put out a warning for all that lived in this area to stay home. 

Victor took in a steady breath and drove just as calm as if he were simply driving to the grocery store for some milk. “Two more exits to go then.” His velvety voice soothed her tightening chest. His words, when not being used for scolding, were like warm cashmere smoothing over her skin.

His voice felt even more comforting after the long silence that stretched out between them. She held that warmth close to her heart, tucking away that emotion for later when it was more appropriate to explore. Diagnosing the reason her heart raced and cheeks heated when he was near would inevitably lead to disappointment and, most certainly, embarrassment. 

He was an impenetrable wall made of solid steel. She didn’t have the tools to chip away at that, nor the time or patience with her own life swirling around her as it did. Work was a huge part of her life, and becoming close to Victor, her boss, would undoubtedly complicate her daily ritual. She couldn’t see what he hid underneath his facade, just those small glimpses of kindness and selflessness that he quickly tucked away from the world the second they were exposed. 

Shifting her weight toward the door, she eyed the handle as if to tempt herself to use it as a means of escape. She pictured herself dramatically tossing her body out the car and comically rolling away from Victor’s pristine Rolls Royce. Shoes flying and scarf flapping, she was sure she could get away in time to be lost to the storm. He’d never be able to find her under the inches of snow on the side of the road. She could take what she had with her and find a new town to move to. Change her name, color of her hair, and find a new profession. Surely Victor would never find her then. She’d never have to confess her feelings to him or hold them inside any longer. The emotions swirled in her chest like a category five hurricane on a good day. She could hold her tongue, for now at least, until she found a more reasonable way to rid herself of these complicated feelings.

Her mind swirled with other stories of escape thanks to the silence, one even more absurd than the last. The drive hadn’t been without its own entertainment, though. Piano music that gently carried around the car faded within the first hour after Victor’s phone died. After two more hours, it was her phone’s turn to go out. They had gotten good use out of it in that time, though. They used the device for its GPS to direct them to civilization, even if the weather made it mildly inaccurate at times. 

The blizzard had unintentionally turned them around and gotten them lost along the countryside. They’d lost their way for too long to make it back to the airport in time. Even if they did make it back to the airport, who’s to say the flights weren’t already delayed for days at this point. 

She took in a deep breath and let her chest fall quietly. It seemed hopeless and dangerous they were cut off from the world like this. If the car broke down, their very lives could be at risk. She shook her head to stave off the grim thoughts that easily budded in her bored mind. 

“Why the heavy sigh? We are close to the cabin now.” Victor spoke without looking over at her, though he could have done that very easily. “One more exit.” 

She wondered why he was acting so calm. And, why was his voice not laced with his usual toxicity? Where were Victor’s quips and typical underhanded insult-compliment hybrids?

Earlier, Victor had turned around on the freeway after the GPS died. They were headed to the airport, but the blizzard only got worse the closer they got, making the way to civilization treacherous. He set his course on the familiar cabin stating it would be their only viable option due to the circumstances. When they’d passed it before, he recounted how there would be heat and food for a long weekend if they needed it. Now, they were headed straight to it. The cabin was a beacon of hope, literally becoming their reality for survival. 

She shrugged his question off and looked over at his hands, squeezing the wheel. Victor’s knuckles were pale, and she stared at his hands for far longer than what was socially acceptable to do. “It’s hopeless that we would be able to make it back to Loveland in time for New Years.” 

Victor’s knuckles turned white, gripping the wheel hard as they veered off the highway onto the exit ramp. His face was calm and cool, but the thick veins popping out of the back of his hand as he drove gave her a sense of the anxiety he was feeling. 

“Nothing we can do about it now.” Victor shrugged lackadaisically.

Did he really not care whether they made it back in time to Loveland or not? Why was he so content with the situation they were stuck in? You could have told him the cabin was full of angry bees, and he wouldn’t even change his calm tone of voice. Why wasn’t he freaking out?

“Does this cabin have chargers? People are going to think we died if we don’t contact someone soon.” She rubbed her hands together and blew into her palms fruitlessly. Victor’s suit jacket was in her lap, covering her knees like a blanket. It did little to help keep her warm, but the gesture was kind, and his scent engulfed her, making it impossible for her to turn down his gentlemanly act. 

He bit his lip thoughtfully and slowed down to turn onto a long winding road. She didn’t even realize a street was there in the dense snowfall, making her hands grip the seat to steady herself at the shock of the turn. 

“Truthfully, I haven’t been here since I was a teenager. I don’t know how recently my father has been here, though. We have staff that upkeep our vacation homes. So, the house will be clean and stocked with some non-perishable food, plain clothes, and other items of necessity. Maybe even phone chargers.” 

She hadn’t fully realized it until now, but they would be staying together alone in this cabin for one, maybe even two nights together. They would be stuck in close proximity for far longer than she ever considered. 

“How many rooms are there?” She blurted out, louder and more rapidly than her usual speech pattern, making Victor turn to look at her with a start. 

His right brow perked up. It was the most emotion she had seen him express openly since they got into the car. “How many rooms, specifically, are in the entire house? Is that what you are asking?” His deep voice boomed.

“Like, bedrooms, where will we- I be sleeping? I can sleep on the couch if there is only one room. I don’t mind.” She rambled, twisting a piece of hair into a tight coil around her finger. 

Victor finally cracked a smile sending a wave of what felt like relief over her. However, that didn’t seem to make sense. Had she been tense this whole time while he remained straight-faced? He looked younger, brighter even as a cut-off chuckle escaped his lips. 

“Three bedrooms, two baths. Happy?” His shift in demeanor suddenly reminded her of a cat toying confidently with its prey.

Her shoulders fell, but her face heated with embarrassment from her little outburst. “Ecstatic,” She murmured toward the passenger side window. 

She physically relaxed, knowing there would be a separate space for her to die of embarrassment in peace. Victor’s presence in the car was looming enough to make her feel as if she needed to hunch over. Even when quiet, Victor knew how to command a room with body language alone. The little she knew about him, the more she wanted to build her own wall up. She didn’t know what he was like and wasn’t sure if it would be safe to know. Despite his large and in charge presence, she sat straight as a board. Chin up and gaze high, she felt as if she beat her own nerves in a battle of strength.  

She pondered on how, as one of the most powerful men in the world, Victor could be one of so many things. Some of those things could be highly unpleasant, but he hardly seemed the type to be truly villainous. Victor drove her with him to the airport when all the taxis refused to go due to the blizzard. Why was that? What did the CEO of LFG want with one of its lowly employees? They weren’t even in the same league, hell they weren’t even on the same planet in her mind.  

She had to admit it, though, he piqued her curiosity on a regular basis. What if she just got to know a small bit of what he was about? She could ask questions later when they had nothing to do but sit around waiting for their phones to charge. Maybe she would find out something she hated about him and use that as fuel to end this hold he had on her. 

“How long is this road…” She questioned, exasperated by the unseen bumpiness of the trail. The white powder blanketed the gravel, making the seemingly smooth ride extra jumpy. She tried not to sound like a spoiled child, but the hours in the car had drained her entirely.

“It’s about a mile. The lake is a mile and a half from the main road.” He answered calmly, keeping his alert eyes glued on the road. 

“A lake? So this is a lake house? How cool! I wonder if we can see any fishes!” She clasped her hands together in excitement. The only memory she had of a lake was when she was a child, and her father took her fishing with tiny weenie pieces. It worked, reeling in some massive catfish and a few other varieties. She was too young to remember where this lake was located, but the memory of her dad tossing her fish back after they were caught was burned into her mind. 

“I doubt we would be able to see them this time of year. If I recall correctly, the lake should be frozen over by now. The fish will be deep down, most likely hibernating.” He adjusted his seating and clicked the windshield wipers on full blast. He peered over the dash, looking out the window as they slowly descended the road. “Also, It wouldn’t be smart taking a stroll outside in this weather.” She noticed the quick glance he made in her direction as she rubbed her hands together. The heater blew full blast, but it was fighting an unwinnable battle. The cold air outside was indeed bone-chilling and unbeatable in its frigidness. The heater helped little if any at all. 

“Fair enough.” She sunk back into the chair, dejected. She wanted to add that he would have to bring her here in the summer when the fish were lively, and the weather was more pleasant, but that felt inappropriate to ask that of someone she hardly knew.

This little detour seemed bleak compared to her prior plans. A fun New Year party was to be held at her studio apartment, full of her close friends and plenty of champagne. They even decorated her house before her trip because they were so excited. Instead, she will be cracking open a water bottle with the CEO of being bossy and going to bed early since there was absolutely nothing to do without her laptop. The temperature is most definitely going to drop at night, and being huddled in many blankets seemed more appealing than staying up without one.

She hadn’t noticed the corner of the house come into view due to the thick snowfall. Slivers of red-painted exterior began to peak out from a white curtain once Victor drew the car closer. She couldn’t see how big the place was, or what its orientation was to the lakeside, but knew there was definitely an abode there for them to seek shelter. 

Once parked, the two quickly gathered their things before Victor turned off the vehicle. They donned their scarfs and gloves in order to make the small trek. He directed her towards the front down through the heavy snow with a loud shout. Thanks to the storm, the car was out of view by the time they made it to the porch. Victor used his foot to sweep off the three steps to the door before she made the small journey herself. 

“Thanks,” She mumbled, looking away from him.

“I just don’t want you to fall. The last thing we need is a medical emergency in this weather.” He assured her, flipping open the box the handle and using the number pad on the doorknob to unlock it. “Or you sitting around here with a black eye, wearing the badge of your clumsiness for all to see.” 

“Gee, thanks,” She puffed sarcastically, holding the corners of her lips in place. It was difficult to stave off her emotions, and her face muscles twitched against her will. In the end, a small smile splayed on her face. It didn’t seem as if he were treating her like a child, only that of a women he looked after. Maybe for someone he hated he wouldn’t have wiped the snow away, maybe. 

Both of them poured inside, and Victor quickly shut the door behind them. Sprinkles of snow scattered around them on the navy carpet. They both caught their breath, finally in stagnant air. Somehow the inside of the house felt colder than the outside, and soon she was chilled to the bone.

“I’m uh,” Victor quickly rubbed his gloved hands together and looked around the unfamiliar space. He brushed the snow off his shoulders and thick coat. Taking one glove off, he ran his fingers through his hair and dislodged puffs of ice. “I’m going to turn on the heater and start a fire in the living room. Pick whatever bedroom you want and settle in. It should be getting warmer in here soon.”

He slowly nodded to her, silently asking if she understood. He huffed air as his lungs struggled to process the chilly air into usable oxygen. His cheeks were flushed several shades of pink from the temperature as he continued to suck in deep breaths. 

“Sounds good to me, thank you.” She pulled the handle of her bag and rolled it through the living room. She tried to keep the shivering to a minimum, not wanting to worry Victor. A single crease appeared on his forehead that she’d yet to see before. It seemed to be the first sign of worry, the first one she’d noticed at least. 

The smell of the old cabin began to replace the scent of Victor’s cologne that had permeated the car for the past several hours. She was almost sad to be rid of that unique smell but tried to put that ridiculous thought out of her mind. She was free to put a door between herself and her boss, the barrier she imagined the whole car ride. Willing herself to be happy about that, she pushed her heels to move faster toward the row of bedrooms. 

Victor left his luggage at the front door and bolted to the den. She presumed the heater dial was in that room. He’d been here before many many years ago, but evidently still remembered the basic layout of the place. She also trusted him, whether she admitted it or not, to be able to figure it out on his own. 

She pushed open a door, hearing the hinges squeak as she revealed the space. A large bed fully stocked with tons of decorative pillows, plush blankets, and a sizable frilly canopy came into view. The moment struck her as creepy since the room occupied no one for who knows how long. When was the last time this bed was properly slept in? Months? Years even? She looked around the hallway but decided she would take the first room she saw. Most of the other rooms were sure to feel just as stark as this one despite the furnishings. It wasn’t dusty either, which added to the strange vibe.

Remembering her circumstances, she quickly shut the door behind her. Her heart raced as she put her back against the solid wood. It was true, she was alone with Victor in this small cabin for the night. His proximity in the car had been bearable, but his closeness in this cabin seems far more intimate. 

She took off her boots and exchanged them for an extra pair of fuzzy socks. Her fashion-forward coat was swapped for a more comfortable plush hoodie. She took down her hair and brushed out the curls, letting her soft strands frame her face. 

She sat her luggage on the bed and placed her items around it to find what she needed easily. She lit a large candle that was atop the vanity with a lighter located in the drawer below. The label said it was supposed to be vanilla, but it was so old it didn’t seem to have a fragrance anymore. It was no matter to her. The gentle warm flame gave the room a breath of life. The longer the candle burned, and her stuff filled the room, the less odd the space felt. The vibe became that of a luxury hotel room, one that she wouldn’t be able to afford in a million years. 

Soon, a hum came over the space, and the scent of burning dust began to fill the room from the overhead vents. Victor finally got the heater to work in the cabin. It brought about memories of the first cold snap every year, always after what seemed to be a long grueling summer. Turning on the heater for the first time still induced a harsh smell at first, but soon the heat would encompass the house and make the space more bearable and relaxing.

In the mirror, she touched her finger to her lips and felt how dry they were. The tip of her nose and cheeks were also a deep shade of red. She hurriedly took out her chapstick and lotion from her bag, then smoothed it over her parched skin. She hoped Victor didn’t think anything of it when she saw him. She wasn’t trying to dress up for him, just making sure her dry skin was quenched. Her racing heart distracted her momentarily. It was hard to tell who she was trying to convince with that notion. 

A knock on the door made her jump. She became so comfortable with her new warmer surroundings that she forgot she wasn’t truly alone. 

“Yes?” She called out while she sat at the vanity, holding her plush sweater closed over her chest. 

“The fireplace is lit.” His voice began, muffled from the thick wood. “I’m going to start making food in a bit. It’s almost eight. We can eat and try to get some sleep-” Victor stopped speaking when she opened the door.

She looked up at him as he stood straighter. Clearing his throat, he took a step back from her and continued in a quieter voice. “Once we wake up in the morning, I will check the weather and make sure the roads are cleared, and flights are back on so we can leave.” 

“Sounds like a good plan. Are there any chargers in this place? My phone is as good as a brick.” She pulled the device out of her pocket and clicked the power button. Nothing happened, and she sighed longingly. 

“There are some chargers in the bedside table. Feel free to… make yourself at home.” They exchanged a silent look before he turned around to walk away. “Dinner will be ready soon. Settle in but meet me in the kitchen at eight sharp. All we have are things in cans, so no complaining.” 

Once he was out of view, she rushed back into the room to the bedside table. The drawer was full of different items, an eye mask, earplugs, tissues, old-style headphones, and a small black charger. “Ah, ha!” She exclaimed, pulling the cord out of the drawer. She found a nearby plug and pushed it into the wall. She then pulled the other end to her and stopped dead in her tracks. “Uh oh…” 

The charger was the old model style. Their phones had been upgraded many times over the years, and this charger was obsolete. She dropped the cord and left the bedroom with haste. 

“Victor!” She shouted into the unfamiliar house. Her chest began to tighten as her feet moved through the house without much thought. 

She heard a clunk coming from the kitchen area and rushed into the room. 

“Yes?” His urgent voice was laced with a hint of annoyance as if he didn’t want to sound too invested in whatever she was panicking about. 

“The chargers are duds! They don’t work with our newer phones!” She could feel panic begin to rise in her chest. “Are there any more? Should I check the other rooms?!” Words spilled out past her lips with rapid speed.

“Relax. Everything is going to be fine as long as you don’t freak out unnecessarily.” He set down the bowl he was messing with and walked to her. He took a pointed pause and looked down at her hand, where she held the dead phone. “We will think of something, okay? Once the storm passes, we have a means to get out of here. We’re not stuck.” 

“We’re not stuck.” She repeated, counting her breaths. “We’re not stuck.”

“We are not stuck,” Victor added matter-of-factly in a deeper tone. 

“We are definitely not stuck here.” She stated again, counting to 10 on her next breath. 

“Go sit in front of the fireplace for a while; it feels nice.” Victor gestured toward the den. “Pull a book off the shelf and see if you can distract yourself for a while.” He didn’t come off as rude or commanding, only cool-headed. He sounded like the only sane person for miles. 

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” 

Books never failed to calm her, no matter the context. If it were a boring book, it would bore her to sleep, and she would have no worries for a time. If it had action, it would keep her glued to the pages to see what happened next, keeping her mind from thinking about her current struggles. Books were always a win. 

Walking to the living room in a daze, she heard Victor opening and closing drawers once more. She planted her feet, one after another toward the living area. It took all her resolve to not take off in a full sprint out the front door. She wanted to get away, get far far away from this crazy scenario. The familiar mild scent of singed dust that accompanied the heater became even more faint as she entered the living room. 

The fire gently crackled and popped, illuminating the space around it with a gentle glow. The scent of cinder hit her nose, and her shoulders immediately relaxed. A smile touched her lips when she saw the massive bookshelf. The sight of the variety alone put her at ease. Fiction, non-fiction, even an arts and craft book poked out among the leather-bound classics.

She tried to think of this as an impromptu vacation and not an emergency stay. They were in no immediate danger, and she could rest easy knowing she had food and a place to sleep tonight. 

Several minutes went by as she sat cross-legged on the couch, a blanket over her legs, and a book in her lap. The light smell of chicken mixed with the charred embers in the room made her stomach let out a tiny cry. The clock on the mantel showed it wasn’t quite eight yet, so she settled back against the couch and engrossed herself once more in the action book. 

Several moments passed as she became invested in her storybook before she heard footsteps. 

“Come to the kitchen.” Victor walked into the room and looked at the state she was in. 

She was slumped against the armrest while pillows surrounded her legs. She felt for a moment as if she were caught red-handed doing something she wasn’t supposed to. However, she chalked the feeling up to being in only professional settings with Victor all this time until now. He’d never seen her properly sprawled out in full-on relax mode. 

“Is the food ready?” She asked, slowly slipping her feet to the plush carpet below. Her socks kept her toes warm outside of the throw blanket. 

“Yes.” Was all he said. Victor looked her over thoughtfully before tearing his eyes away and leaving the room.

She padded after him towards the kitchen and stopped dead in her tracks. Her vision filled with a fully stocked plate in front of her. Many different types of sides arranged meticulously in a circle atop very old glass plates surprised her. Almost none of the items went together, chicken salad, stewed carrots, and cranberry sauce littered the plate with other various creations.

“Are you hungry?” He tapped his fingers on the table, teasing that he was not amused with her just standing there. “Sit,” He gestured to the seat in front of him. “Eat up. The food will get cold.” 

Her eyes stayed on the plate as she circled the kitchen and made her way to the table. 

“I’m curious,” She stared, chair legs scraping the floor. “How did you manage something so delicious looking with only having non-perishables at your disposal?” 

“Does it matter?” His forehead pinched. “It’s a warm meal. Eat up, and don’t complain how it got here.” 

“I wasn’t complaining. I-”

“You haven’t eaten since breakfast. You need the nutrients and fuel. Plus, you can sleep easier tonight with a full stomach.”

This was true. She hadn’t eaten since she left for the airport. She figured once she got to her gate, she would grab a burrito and smoothie from the nearest restaurant and pack it away with her on the plane. However, she never made it to the airport and missed lunch entirely. 

“Well, Thank you.” She spoke before stuffing a fork full of food into her mouth. 

Victor met her eyes and nodded slightly. They ate their meal in silence until the very last bite. The only sounds for minutes were silverware hitting the plate and the wind outside gushing past the window in spurts. He looked amused as she tried to scrape the last little bit of sauce off the plate with her fork. 

“Why don’t you just lick the plate already?” He smiled smugly and took his plate to the sink. 

“I almost want to.” She teased back. “This was the best meal I’ve had in a long time.” 

He looked out the window at the night sky while flurries of snow lazily fell to the ground. “Don’t mention it. Now go to bed.”  

“Already?!” She protested. “I just ate, I need a second to process it before I lay down. I-I could get heartburn!”

He cut his eyes at her as he left the room. He turned his head away the second before She thought she could see a smile. “Have it your way. It’s late, and I have nothing to do. I will tend to the fireplace then I’m going to bed. Goodnight.” 

“Oh… goodnight.” She murmured as he left the threshold. 

The door at the far end of the hall clicked shut, and she sat in silence for a long moment. The heater hummed warm air into the room while she sat with her own thoughts. She didn’t know how late it was since her phone was dead and the clock on the wall’s batteries died long ago. The hands were stuck at 12:06 for who knows how long. She’d have to check the clock in the living room if she cared to know. 

She sighed and took her plate to the sink. She washed both dishes and watched out the kitchen window. It sure was boring without anything to catch up on or watch. A yawn grew on her lips, and she decided that sleep was probably the best option. Once she awoke, it would be a new day, and they could get out of here. 

Switching off the lights in the kitchen and living room, she made her way to the bedroom. Her mind moved to the fabulous meal Victor had made and wondered what else he was good at. He seemed to be the best at anything he tried, and it made her slightly impressed but also mildly annoyed. She thought that no one should have that much power, to be good at all things they put their mind too. 

As she shut the heavy oak door, the pipes in the walls whistled and hissed, indicating the use of running water. The realization he was taking a shower dawned on her. The thought alone caused heat to touch the tips of her cheeks. It was a stark contrast to the cold sensation she’d been feeling all day, almost like a relief from the cold. The awareness only grew as she changed into her nightclothes and realized she ought to shower too. He was probably using up all the hot water, but a bath might actually be just the stuff to help ease her chilled bones to sleep. 

She gathered her soaps and nightclothes and entered the bathroom that was joined to the bedroom. The small room quickly populated with swirly steam as she filled the large garden tub with piping hot water. The lavender bubble bath she found beneath the sink proved to make the most enormous bath bubbles she had ever seen.

Foam rose over the surface of the water while she immersed her body beneath the heat. Her muscles quickly released tension with every inch she slipped beneath the silky smooth water. The ends of her hair dipped in the lavender-scented liquid while fizzing bubbles formed promptly at her feet. 

She used her big toe to turn off the running water when the tub was filled to the brim. She then sat there motionless, listening to the bubbles fizz and pop as they died out one by one. As she closed her eyes, her mind immediately went to Victor’s face. She opened her lids to see a blank wall and to shake her head of his image. 

The last thing she needed was to read into this situation with him and hope for an outcome that would never happen. After all these months of working directly for him, Victor never once dropped a bone for her to pick up. He was a busy man, too busy for anything frivolous like dating. Especially busy for any mindless chatter. Today was the most she’d ever spoken to him about things that didn’t concern work. It was slightly refreshing to hear his words not carry so much weight. However, she did miss the routine of their conversations. 

He would present her with a problem and ask her to take it to her department. She would then hold a meeting to brainstorm the issue and find a solution. After that, her next words to him were in another meeting. She’d stand in front of all the other leaders and recall their solution via PowerPoint or bar graph. Victor would have some questions and always seemed invested in her work, but not too much where she thought he might actually care about her specifically. No, he cared about how the department was flourishing and how it benefited his company. 

She sighed, and the bubbles on her chest went flying with the gust. Foam coated the wall and slid down the edge of the tub to the floor. As she sat silently, she heard the pipes shut off. Victor had turned off the water to his shower. 

Gulping, she looked away from the wall, trying not to think of his current state. While working so hard not to think of it, the curiosity only grew. What did his broad shoulders look like below that tailored suit? Was his black hair somehow darker while soaking wet? Was Victor the kind of guy to dry his body first or his hair? 

Her foot slipped off the edge of the tub and splashed water all over the bathroom floor. Her face was hot, and warm water helped droplets of sweat start to bead along her forehead. This was the first time she’d felt truly warm in weeks thanks to the relentless snow in the forecast. 

Wiping the sweat from her brow, she decidedly ignored the inner heat blooming. In another life, so many possibilities could happen here in the cabin alone with Victor. So many things that were beyond the realm of what she knew to be possible in her life. He wasn’t the type to go against his own rules and date someone from work. And he definitely wasn’t the type to go after someone with a low status such as herself. 

She was sure Victor had his pick of any model or actress that strutted the earth. He was on the tip of everyone’s tongue year-round when the tabloids spoke of eligible bachelors. It’s not like she ever read any of them, but they were always there next to the checkout lanes at her local grocery store. Curiosity sometimes got the better of her, and she would take a peek, but only a quick one. 

She twisted in the tub, realizing the water was cooling at an increasingly rapid rate thanks to the dropping temperatures outside. In a flash, she washed up quickly and hopped out to cover her chilled skin with a soft towel. She wiped her face dry and stared at her silhouette in the fogged mirror. What if Victor was staring at his mirror just the same? What if they were looking right at one another from separate rooms? What if a man like that craved a woman like her…? What if…

Annoyed by her crush and ridiculous fantasies, she left for her room. She layered a fresh set of pajamas with an extra sweatshirt and two pairs of thick socks. She lay in the darkroom, staring up at the canopy that covered the bed, and sighed. She was hopelessly into Victor, and she wished with all her heart she wouldn’t be.

They both went on a group business trip to the same city, taking a four-hour plane ride to get here. However, the group that went with them were smart and ended up leaving early before the storm hit. Victor had to stay due to a few extra meetings his secretary set up for him on short notice. She stayed for the meetings pertaining to LFG itself to be up to date on the latest information. Ah, what was she kidding? She remained so she could stare at Victor from the corner of her eye for just a few more hours. She had no idea what the meetings were about even. All her notes were scribbles, making it look like she was paying attention. That plan to watch him just a tad longer had either severely backfired, or went better than she could have ever imagined. 

Unable to sleep, she kept her eyes upward while her mind roamed wildly. Se soon noticed that she could suddenly see her own breath in the room. The old heater couldn’t keep up with the outsides dropping temperature. Thick clothes and two plush comforters still left her shivering, cold to the bone. She wondered if she should lay her head away from the window and try to sleep that way, but then her feet would be the ones freezing. 

She tossed and turned for what felt like hours, unable to sleep due to the intense cold. She shivered until her teeth chattering made her jaw sore. It was a moot point to try to get any kind of sleep like this. It was decided that she would hunt for more blankets, maybe even see if they had any electric blankets stowed away somewhere. 

With her hood up, she marched down the dark hall with a blanket over her shoulders. She padded atop the carpet toward the end of the hall. There was a skinnier door, and she assumed the owners might have stored extra items in there. 

As soon as she opened the door, a pillow leaped off the shelf. “Ah!” She moved to the side and let it fall while ruffling through the shelves. Sheet, sheet, pillowcase… she pushed items aside. The closet was overstuffed with linens of all types. She jumped toward the top shelf and yanked down on the article above. 

Another couple of pillows toppled over and landed on her head. “Oof!” She exclaimed, voice muffled by the dense feather pillow. 

“It’s two am.” She heard a sudden voice boom from the other side of the hall. 

“Oh!” She yelped, losing her balance. She hadn’t even heard his door open in all the commotion. “Ah-ha… I was just looking…” She tried to stuff the half pulled out blanket back into the storage closet and put her hands behind her back. “Sorry if I was loud.” She looked down at her feet briefly.

“What are you doing out here?” He walked toward the mess of bedding littered around her. 

His night outfit made her gawk. She’d never seen Victor wearing such a casual outfit. An over-sized dark blue sweater with black sweatpants and bright white socks. He ruffled his fluffier than usual hair. It looked soft but not as sleek as his conventional hair products made it seem. He almost looked boyish and the adventurous type. Victor resembled the guy next door that would come over to fix your sink when it broke or ask for a cup of milk he’d forgotten he’d needed in a recipe he was making. Almost. Despite his modern casual look, she knew better. She was more familiar with what power he held than most of the public. 

“I was trying to get another blanket. It’s so cold I can’t even fall asleep…” She pushed up on her tippy toes and put her foot flat back on the ground, rocking on her heels. “So uh, the solution was to look in this hall closet.” 

Victor nodded slowly. Soft, weary eyes assessing the situation. “I see.” 

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” She looked at the mess on the floor. “And I’ll clean this up.” 

With pinched lips, Victor walked over to her. Abruptly looming in her space, she held her breath. Victor reached up above her and pulled the blanket she’d already dislodged down with ease. He handed it to her and placed his hand on his hip. 

“You didn’t wake me. I am also having trouble sleeping in the cold. I have the heater going as high as it’ll go.” He looked off toward a nearby window and then back to her. “It seems to be dropping well below the negatives outside.” He scratched his head thoughtfully.

“I did hear the weatherman say that was a possibility.” She balled the blanket up in her arms and stepped out of the mess she made.

“Well-

“If-”

They spoke at the same time, then swiftly stopped simultaneously. She chewed her bottom lip with watchful eyes, and Victor knitted his brows and crossed his arms. 

“Go ahead,” 

“No, you, uh, go first…” She took a deep breath of the chilled air around her. The house was quiet despite their audible breathing and the sound of the heater blowing above them in vain.  

“Dummy, ladies first.” He quipped, taking a more dominating stance before her.

Breathing in a sharp inhale, she put her foot down. “I was just going to say, goodnight? Uh, see you tomorrow.” 

“You think adding one more measly blanket is going to keep you warm enough to sleep?” He sounded indignant, giving her a side-eye with a hint attitude. 

“I was hoping it would.” 

He scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.” 

“Okay,” She pressed on. “Do you have another solution?”

He seemed to be choosing his words carefully, tasting them thoroughly on his tongue before he laced them together into a verbal thought. Victor looked her in the eye for a long consuming moment. She was captivated by his intensity, keeping her lungs from filling completely with each cool gasp. 

His gaze abruptly moved away, almost bashfully she noted, and she was finally able to breathe easy again. She thanked her lucky stars he broke eye contact first. It was like staring down a wild dog, and the first one to move was the weakest link. She had no fear of Victor, only immense curiosity and respect for what he did. 

He clicked his tongue, and his velvety voice broke the silence. “I can stoke the fireplace and get it going again.”

“Okay? And then what? Toss ourselves into it to stay warm?” 

“Don’t try to be funny.” He narrowed his steely eyes. It seemed difficult for him to articulate what he wanted outright. 

“So we warm-up and then try to go back to bed?” She wove the blanket around her arms tighter. She wondered, idly, why she felt so incredibly small at that moment. 

Victor perked up like he had it all planned out suddenly. “Grab as many blankets as you can, and I will do the same. We will take them to the living room and see if that is any warmer.”

She gulped audibly. “Alright, I will grab my pillows too. If this is the only way to get warm, then it’s what we have to do.” 

“It is. Now go get your stuff and hurry to the living room.”

.

.

.

Thank you for reading! This was supposed to be a oneshot but I kept sitting on it and adding to it and... well now its over 10k words long. So I had to split it up into a few chapters. I hope you enjoyed this! 

Rating notice, based on how the story unfolds I may up the rating. Not sure how the story will go entirely yet but I will let it flow naturally and not force anything <3

Masterlist is at the top of my blog~

[evalinkatrineberg]

Practice Side RP

I could hardly sit still in the ballroom. Ever since my makeover had concluded and I had been told that we had to wait for more girls to finish up before we could be shown to our rooms, I had been turning my head from left to right. Every now and then, I would try to make small talk with the other girls who had finished, but for the most part, I sat in silence. I was just utterly exhausted.

At the same time, I was attempting to acquaint myself with my new, shorter haircut. I couldn’t say I disliked it, but it was just another change, alongside the many others that had occurred the past few weeks. The novelty of the moment was starting to wear off.

I need a quick break, I decided. I searched the room, trying to catch the attention of one of the palace officials. When one finally saw me, I asked if it might be permissible for me to leave to use the restroom. After receiving an affirming nod, I made my way to the door. Some fresh air, some time alone to think, even if only for a few moments, would likely do me some good.

I nearly barreled into the girl standing on the other side of the door as I entered the hallway. She crossed her arms, looking me up and down, and then raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow in my direction. “Are you lost or something, discount Barbie?”

Barbie? Well, that was a new nickname.

“Kind of, actually,” I admitted, shaking my head a little, feeling the ends of my hair brush against my collarbones. It was at that moment that I realized just who I was talking to.

Oh, shit. Not even twenty-four hours into my time in the palace, and I had already fucked up.

“Your Highness,” I added immediately, my words rushed as they poured out of my mouth. I felt the blood rush to my cheeks, and wondered if I should curtsy. “I was just looking for the restroom!”

“You forgot your curtsy, but I’ll let it slide.” Oh, thank God! The princess jerked her head towards the length of hallway behind her, and added, “It’s this way, follow me.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” It was kind of difficult to keep up with Princess Ayesha in these heels, but I was grateful for her help nonetheless. Maybe adjusting to life at the palace would be easier than I had initially thought. Not wanting to leave anything on a sour note, I continued, “And sorry for forgetting the curtsy. These past few days have been a whirlwind, and I can’t say I was expecting to bump into a member of the royal family so soon.” I almost cringed at the nervous laugh that escaped my lips then. The princess was being so kind and helpful, and here I was, a babbling fool. It was almost comical.

“And I was expecting Ari would send you all home today. Guess life screws with all of our expectations,” Ayesha responded, her tone flat.

Okay, maybe not so kind then. Had I done something to offend her already? Why was she expecting her brother to send us all home so soon? I kept these thoughts to myself as we weaved through the hallways, finally coming to a stop in front of a big wooden door. I held back a frown as I looked at it. It was an odd door for a bathroom, but, maybe it was some kind of new architecture style that was trendy on the west coast. The princess looked at me expectantly, so I opened the door, and stepped right into something soft and slimy.

I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply through my nose before looking down and opening them again. Yep. I was shin-deep in horseshit. After the way the week had been going up until this point, I didn’t even know why I was surprised.

“Never said I’d take you to  human restroom!” I could hear the laughter in the princess’s voice.

I breathed deeply, taking a moment to compose myself. Reacting on impulse and emotion alone would get me nowhere. That’s what I had done with Proctor the day before, and look where that had gotten me. No, it was time to find the silver lining, as difficult as that might be, given the princess’s comments, her flat tone, and the literal horseshit I now found myself standing in. Things were definitely not going my way.

The princess’s laughter echoed behind me, cracking something inside my chest that I didn’t know could break. Before I could even think about it, I was laughing as well. It started as a soft giggle, bubbling up in my throat as I took in the ridiculousness of the whole situation. As dreadful as this might be, it was somehow the closest I had felt to being at home since I had arrived at the palace this morning.

By the time I had composed my thoughts and reigned in my emotions enough to form a coherent sentence, I was full-on laughing. “You’re right,” I conceded in between fits of laughter. “You didn’t.”

I turned around to face Ayesha now, sighing, but still smiling. The princess had stopped laughing, and was looking at me quizzically. “You’d think that growing up with four siblings, I’d have seen this coming,” I began to explain. “This is exactly the kind of prank my sister Lydia would pull.” I chuckled a bit, shaking my head and pulling up the hem of my dress, so as not to get it dirtier than it already was. A shame that it was already ruined. I had liked this one. Though, I was sure with all the staff available at the palace, I could probably get it remade, and it wasn’t like I didn’t have any other nice dresses at my disposal.

“My brothers, too,” I continued. “They covered the entire floor of my bedroom with slices of bread the night they announced the names of the Selected girls on the Report.” I shook my head at the memory, remembering when stepping on sliced bread had been my biggest problem. What a simple time that was.

Ayesha stopped laughing, clearly taken aback. Her face softened slightly as she commented, “Your siblings sound like my kind of people.”

“I think you’d get along very well with them,” I agreed, chuckling slightly as I slipped my feet out of the heels I had been wearing, stepping on to the floor of the palace. It was probably - no, definitely - highly improper of me to be barefoot in the palace, but I figured being barefoot was preferable to tracking horse dung all over the floor. Besides, there were other shoes available in the wardrobe I had just received during my makeover, anyway, even though I would definitely have some explaining to do about just where the shoes I had initially chosen had gone. At least I had already completed my post-makeover photos and interview. Taking them like this would be a nightmare.

“They’re never going to let me live this down when I get the chance to tell them about this.” I could already picture the howls of laughter that would peal through the dining room as they read the letter. Shaking my head at the image, I brought my eyes upwards to meet the princess’s gaze. “They’d probably say this is revenge for Lydia and I releasing ants in their room the day before I left for the airport.” I offered the princess a conspirators grin, a small part of me wondering if this might actually be a rough beginning to a nice friendship. “Though, I bet they’d wish they were here to see it themselves.”

The princess frowned as her eyes moved downwards, towards my feet. “Okay,” she conceded finally, “now I’m really going to bring you to an actual washroom.” Wrinkling her nose, she added. “You stink.”

I could tell the princess was trying to sound mean, but there was a flicker of a grin that mirrored my own on her face. Her change in demeanor surprised me a bit, but I held my tongue as I followed her to what I hoped would truly be a restroom this time. I was in no way opposed to her actual kindness, should she offer it. I really couldn’t blame her for being cold at first. I could only imagine how I would feel if one of my own brothers invited thirty-five girls into our home in an attempt to date all of them and marry one of them.

“Fireants would have been better,” Ayesha commented, holding open a door for me. A quick peek inside confirmed that it was, indeed, an actual washroom this time. Turning away from me, she waved towards a woman who appeared to be a maid. “Hi, Mila, would you be a dear and fetch some tomato juice for Miss…” the princess trailed off. “I wasn’t planning on learning names, but I guess I’ll make an exception.”

A feeling of satisfaction washed over me. Had I managed to get on the princess’s good side? I didn’t get my hopes up, though, as I supplied her with my name. “Evalin.”

“Miss Evalin,” the princess finished. “Also, please see to it that someone helps clean up her shoes in the stables, and whatever residual horse sh-” she caught herself before she cursed, “manure she might have tracked in. Thank you, Mila.”

The maid - Mila - simply nodded and scurried off, likely to find the tomato juice the princess had just requested. When she was gone, I decided to reply to the princess’s previous comment to me, lowering my voice so that it was barely louder than a whisper. “Lydia - my sister - wanted to do fireants, but I talked her out of it. The risk of us getting bit up in the process was too high. Plus, if we did get bit, the bites would be to noticeable, and give away that something was up. The best part of the prank is the surprise, right?”

“Gloves would have helped.” The princess shrugged nonchalantly, making no move to leave. Her face turned a bit colder then, reminiscent of the expression she had worn when I had first bumped into her in the hallway. It was a mask, I realized. I felt a pang of sadness for her then. Always having to be so guarded had to take a toll on her. “And of course everyone knows the surprise is the best part.”

She stayed where she was, looking down the hallway in the direction that Mila had ran off in, even as I began to step into the washroom. I wondered how much of the muck I’d be able to scrub off of the dress, or if it would be wiser to just admit defeat on this one. Before I began, though, I looked over my shoulder at the princess and said again, “Thank you.”

She furrowed her brows. “You’re welcome.” She paused for a moment, before continuing, “For letting you step in horse manure?”

“Well, maybe not for that part,” I admitted, laughing a little to myself, “but for not leaving me to my own devices afterwards, and also for reminding me that all of this -” I gestured to the surroundings, hoping the princess would understand that I meant the Selection as a whole, “-isn’t something that has to happen without any fun, whatsoever. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled to be here - ecstatic, even - but,” I sighed, unsure of how to phrase the rest of my sentence without sounding ungrateful. “It’s a bigger change than I thought it would be, and I think I was starting to psych myself out. Though I can’t help but laugh that it took stepping in horse manure to make me realize that maybe things aren’t as drastically different as I thought they were.”

Ayesha made a face, but let me finish. When I was done, she mumbled, “Damn, you sure talk a lot.” Her face lit up, though, as Mila began to make her way back down the hallway towards us. “I was just making sure Mila does her amazing job, like she always does. And, now that you’ve mentioned it, I should take my leave.”

I took the tomato juice from Mila, whom Ayesha instructed to get me a fresh dress to change into. As the princess walked away, still looking ahead, she called out, “Word of advice, don’t get too comfortable.”

Good point. Regardless, I just smiled. “Thank you again, Your Highness,” I called back at Ayesha’s retreating figure.

I began to scrub down my legs and feet, finishing just as Mila returned with a fresh dress and shoes. I ducked into a stall to change, exchanging the blue dress for a shorter dress of a similar color. It was a smart move on Mila’s part, grabbing a dress in nearly the same shade of blue. With any luck, the other Selected girls wouldn’t even notice that I had had to change dresses.

When I emerged from the stall a few moments, later, Mila immediately took the soiled dress from my hands. “I’ll bring this down to the laundry. It’ll be returned to your room when it’s clean again.”

I didn’t envy the poor soul who was fixed with that task. “Thank you.”

Mila only nodded. “You should probably get back to the other girls. It’s just down this hallway, and then make a right, It should be the third door on your left.”

I thanked her again before taking my leave. When I had successfully found the ballroom, it appeared that the girls I was sitting with were getting ready to be shown to their rooms. Had all of this really happened so quickly? I shook the thought out of my head. I couldn’t wait to get to my room, already planning on immediately setting to writing my family a letter. Only one day here, and already so much had happened! I could only wonder what might be in store in the coming days.

[thiswasinevitableid]

➼ a friend asked me what i thought my life would look like in ten years and i realized that i pictured me and you, holding hands, with kids (STERNCLAY because now I'm in a mood)

Minorest of spoilers for EP 33

A side benefit of having multiple enchanters on their side was that, when all was said and done, there were people who could wipe the memories of an entire crew of FBI agents. 

Well, every FBI agent except one. Joseph Stern’s memory was left intact, a fact for which Barclay is eternally grateful.

If nothing else, he’s glad he doesn’t have to re-reveal himself to Stern. Joseph knows he’s Bigfoot, and seems far more excited by that fact than Barclay expected. 

It’d begun the night after the sinkhole. He and Stern had been friendly up til  then (once Barclay determined that Stern had zero idea he was Bigfoot). Then he’d come into the kitchen late that night, asking Barclay if he had any baking soda and vinegar. 

“Making a volcano?” He’d grinned, handing Stern the items.

“No” he shook his head, “I’m frustrated with my search and the incident last night was extremely stressful. I’m going to calm down by cleaning the sink. And yes, I’m aware that cleaning to relax is strange.”

“Not really” Barclay shrugs, “I do it all the time.”

Which is how Stern spent the next two hours in the kitchen helping Barclay clean and talking his ear off. 

A month later, Stern was keeping Barclay company while he prepped dough for the morning and Barclay had kissed him up against the counter. Stern threw his arms around him with comical enthusiasm. In bed the next morning, they’d agreed to keep the whole thing a secret, since neither of their bosses would be keen on the idea. 

Then the mimic had come, and everything had gone to hell and then Barclay was cut off from topside. His closest friend was missing. And he and Stern didn’t see each other for two long months. 

But now everything was okay. They were all okay. They’d been that way for months now.

Except. 

Sterns’ superiors had recently called with an offer of a promotion. He could stay in Kepler, and act as a supervisory agent for the whole region, or he could return to D.C for an even higher position. 

Stern has asked Barclay, multiple times, which he thinks he should choose. And every time, Barclay says it’s up to Stern since he knows which one will be best for his career goals. 

Of course, he is frantically hoping Stern chooses to stay. But he won’t tell him that. He can’t make the other man feel like he has to choose between Barclay and his career. He wants Stern to do what’s best for Stern, even if it breaks his heart.

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

“What’re you going to do now?” Aubrey looks at him from the table where she and Dani are putting the finishing touches on Dr. Harris Bonkers new costumes. 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, like, now that the abominations aren’t coming through, you’ll have a lot more time.”

Barclay finishes wiping down one table, starts on another, “Dunno, hadn’t given it much thought. Probably just stay at the lodge. I like working here, and lord knows Mama shouldn’t be running it by herself. She needs a vacation.”

“Sooo, what, in ten years you’re still gonna be here, cooking and cleaning and making out with Stern in the janitors closet?” Aubrey teases.

“That was one time!”

“Aren’t there things you want to do that you didn’t get a chance to back in your younger days?” Dani glances at him from where she’s hot-gluing red rhinestones to a bow-tie. 

Barclay pauses for a moment.

“I mean, sure. I’d really like to drive the 101, maybe go to Alaska again. Indrid says Chicago’s gotten really cool, and I’ve really been meaning to ask about getting a booth at the farmers market in the summer to help make some extra money for the lodge, build a full life in Kepler even…” he trails off “..even have kids, maybe, one day.”

He’s realized something about about all those dreams, and it must show on his face because Dani and Aubrey share a concerned look.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m, I’m great, and I have to go find Stern.”

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

Joseph Stern is doing paperwork, like he almost always is at 10:30 am on a Tuesday.

The door to his hotel room bursts open and he jumps.

“Barclay? Is everything alright?”

In five short strides Barclay reaches him. A large, familiar hand settles on each of his upper arms as deep brown eyes look at him imploringly. 

“Take the job here.”

“Barclay, I-”

“Please,” Barclay kneels down, takes both his hands, “please, let me finish. I’m in love with you, Joseph. But more than that, I, I was thinking just now about what my life will look like in the future and every time I pictured it I saw you next to me. You’re clever and funny and brave and you’ve got an amazing ability to roll with the punches and you love me even when I’m like seven feet tall and scary looking. I want to make a life together, the one that we both deserve. I want to travel together, learn together, live together. Er,more than we already do.” 

Stern laughs a little at that last comment, watches Barclays gaze drop down to their joined hands. 

“So, what do you say?” He asks softly.

Stern’s whole heart is lit up like the Vegas strip, and he cups Barclays face in his hands so they’re looking at each other once more. 

“I’d say that I feel the same way. And that I was trying to tell you that I already decided to take the job here.”

Barclays mouth opens and closes, but no words come out.

“I was going to tell you over lunch. I like it here. The work would be interesting. And I fit in much better with all you weirdos than I did with people back in D.C. And,” he rubs each of Barclay’s cheekbones with his thumbs, “I have someone here who makes me happier than I’ve been in a very long time.”

Strong arms pull him close and Barclay kisses him like it’s the last time even though it will be just one of many. Stern sighs into the kiss, runs his fingers through that thick, dark hair, huffing out a laugh when Barclay kisses his neck and accidentally tickles his cheek with his beard. 

“Besides, with a honest to god magician, the mothman, and whatever the heck Jake is hanging around, you need a man on the inside to make sure the FBI leaves you alone.”

Barclay is beaming at him, “Always knew you were on our side.”

“Yes, and I always will be. But more importantly,” he kisses Barclay again, “I’ll always be by yours.”

[lycorogue]

New Story: Love Taps

I did it! I was stumped for a little bit there as I focused on my Meet My OCs series and my blog post (which I still haven’t written for this week), but I managed to write up my monthly completed piece of fiction! Whoot!

I jumped fandoms a touch here, but you have to follow inspiration, right?

So, I’d like to present to you my first Fruits Basket fanfic.

You can also read Love Taps at any of these three sites: on AO3, on FFN, or on DA

This story is dedicated to @chibisunnie for inspiring the plot bunny in the first place. It’s always gold when we get to chat! :D 

**Disclaimer: I haven't had the chance to start up Fruits Basket Another or the Three Musketeers Arc, so I'm sorry if I have some inconsistencies. I tried my best via the wiki pages...  ***UPDATE: I have now read FBA and there ARE inconsistencies, mostly with Hajime and Sawa’s personalities, and I don’t really ship them now that I’ve read the story buuuuut I’m leaving this unedited. Oh well.... 

Also, this story is about Adult Tohru, so there will be spoilers if you don’t know who Hajime is.

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

Love Taps

Kyo's little head bonks carry more meaning and more love than anyone could ever truly know. Anyone besides maybe Tohru, who reflects on an entire lifetime of receiving the loving raps on the noggin.

One-shot

Word Count: 2952 Rating: General Audiences

**Warning: Contains lots of fluff, you might want your dentist on stand-by

 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I think I've always known, at some level, that his little bonks on my head were a sign of his affection. It's very fitting for him; to show love with his fists, but in a gentle manner. Those head bonks have always been so dear to me, because they proved that he saw my faults, but wanted a connection to me anyway.

"Kyo? Kyo! I- I think my water just broke! Oh no! What do I do? I know we studied this, but it's really happening!" I paced in a tight little circle, liquid dripping down my leg. "Should I clean this up so it won't stain? Should I go change? I probably need to soak my clothes so they won't stain. Do I have time to do so? Do we have the overnight bag packed? Is my mother's picture in the bag?" I held my pregnant belly as I leaked further onto the floor, unsure which direction to go. That's when I got that delicate bonk on the crown of my head. It startled me still, made me blink a few times as I re-focused, and arched my head back.

"You need to just focus on you and the kid. I've got everything else, you hear me? You always find a way to worry about the wrong things." Kyo already had our overnight bag slung over his shoulder, and was moving to grab my mother's picture to place inside the bag. "Now, if you feel gross, go wash off your legs, otherwise, we should get going."

"Um, I- I don't want to get the seats messy."

"I already have towels so you won't, but we do have a minute for you to wash if you stop dawdling."

I shook my head. "No. I'll be fine. We should get going."

He then smiled at me. "You're going to do amazing." He walked over, wrapped his free arm around my waist, and rested his forehead on mine. "Remember how insanely strong you are the whole time, okay?"

As I nodded, he ushered me out the door so we could meet our son.

That was the beauty of those head bumps. He wanted me to focus. He wanted to help reset me as my world was spinning around me; when I wasn't focusing on the right things, or when I wasn't focusing at all. They were never rough, and they weren't judgmental. Instead, they were always filled with love. In fact, I think I blushed the first time he bonked the side of my head because I knew the love he shared with that action. Part of me must have known that those bonks carried words Kyo couldn't quite say.

Words like 'you worry too much' or 'you need to focus so you'll be safe' or 'I like having you around' or 'please, don't leave me' or even 'you know I love you, right?' Sometimes, they carried the question that weighed the most on Kyo's mind: 'How could you possibly love someone so much?'

"Tohru, we have to go." Kyo sighed as he leaned against the classroom door. He gave an apologetic shrug and head shake towards the teacher.

"It's my baby's first day!" I squeezed our son close to me, and his little arms wrapped around me just as tight. "It's going to be a full day without seeing his adorable face, or hearing his sweet voice, or running around the yard with him."

"I want you to stay, Mama!" Hajime nuzzled his head into my shoulder. "Can't you go to school with me?"

"Okay, enough of this." Kyo softly grumbled. He then took strong and pointed steps towards us before – bonk, bonk – both Hajime and I got little knuckle raps on the sides of our head.

We both blinked, and pulled away from each other as we tried to register what just happened. We turned to Kyo, who blew out a calming breath before resting his hands on our son's shoulders, centering him to face his father.

"You know how a lot of people come to visit us, just to hang out? Just because they miss us?"

Hajime nodded as he wiped a couple of tears away.

"Those are all of your mother's friends-"

"Kyo-" They weren't just my friends. They were his as well, and more importantly, they were his family; I was just the one lucky enough to join that loving clan.

Kyo held up his hand to still my protest. "Those are your mother's friends, and she helped them become mine as well. Do you want lots and lots of friends like her?"

Hajime nodded vigorously, borderline comically.

"Well, then you need to be kind like she is. And you need to be welcoming. Most importantly, you need to talk to them, and show them your big heart. It may not work at first. You may be teased, but you'll then find others just as kind as you, and they'll be your friends for life. Then you won't need anyone else. You got that?"

"Uh-huh."

"It won't work if you are only with your mother, though. Now, turn around." Kyo physically pivoted Hajime so they were both looking into the classroom, Kyo kneeling behind our son and whispering into his ear. "Look at how many friends could be waiting for you in this room. Don't you want to meet them?"

"I do!" Hajime bounced on his toes, a grin stretching almost impossibly far across his face.

"Then go meet them, and we'll see you once school is done. Okay?"

"Okay, Daddy." Hajime squeezed both of us tight before turning and sprinting off to meet his classmates.

"As for you." Kyo stood, and held out his hands to lift me to my feet as well. "He'll be fine, and you need to trust that he'll be fine." He discretely tapped my chest just above my heart. "Just as your mother is always with you, know that you're always with him; watching over him, even when you can't physically be there. Besides, he's in good hands, isn't he?" He addressed the teacher, who looked slightly less exasperated now that my overly-affectionate display had ended. The teacher nodded and gave us a small smile.

"Okay, we can go." I hugged Kyo's forearm to prevent me from shooting forward and scooping up our beautiful child again. Resting his head on the top of mine, Kyo escorted me out of the classroom.

That was probably the greatest thing about those head bonks. They were an anchor. They helped ground me, and even Hajime on occasion. When I was being tossed about in a sea of emotions, Kyo's raps on the side of my head kept me from floating off. Kept me from floating away from reason; floating away from public decency; floating away from alertness; floating away from reality, even.

As I grew older and more mature, the less I needed that anchor; Kyo simply existing in my life was enough. He taught me how to be more alert; how to stay more focused on what truly was important. Having Hajime also helped greatly with that. Soon, Kyo only bonked me on the head once a month. Once a season. Eventually, I realized he had only rapped me on the head once that whole year. Part of me wondered if I should purposely start to let myself drift again; daydream again. Something to call out for Kyo to tap the side of my head. Because I missed it.

I think he missed that connection as well. We hugged. We kissed. We held hands. We snuggled next to each other. None of it was quite the same though, as much as I loved all of it. I think he felt the same way, because the meaning of the tap changed. It now became more of a way to silently tell me 'I know' or 'I feel the same way' or 'it hurts me too, but we'll manage.'

"Uh, I guess he forgot about me?" Sawa-chan shook her head and hid an exasperated chuckle behind her bridal bouquet. Kyo stood beside her, sighing as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I can't believe how grown up you are!" I nuzzled Hajime's cheek with my own and held him close. My make-up was probably ruined from sobbing all day, but I didn't care. "You found yourself a wonderful girl, and I'm so proud of you!"

"Tohru," Kyo growled. "Must you?"

"But he's married now! Our baby's all grown up, and I couldn't be prouder of him. And look at how handsome he is! He reminds me of you when we got married."

"Do you really think so, Mom?" Hajime's voice squeaked and he pulled me in closer. "I'm only this amazing, and know how to include such fantastic people in my life, because of you and Dad. You truly are the best, Mom. I couldn't do any of this without you."

We started crying into each other's arms, and I only just barely heard Sawa-chan squeaking an "um" before I felt that head bonk. I pulled away from my son, and saw his blank expression as he also tried to comprehend what just happened.

"You two are pathetic, you know that, right?" Kyo shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks. "It's not like we're never seeing him again, and it's not like we don't have other kids for you to dote on. Let the boy grow up, will ya?" He then grabbed Hajime's left bicep, and yanked him from my arms. In a swift motion he shoved our son on the back; just enough to push him into his wife. "That's the woman you should be smothering with hugs!"

"No, I get it," Sawa-chan joked, "I'll always be second-fiddle to Haa-chan's mother."

"Pfft, don't call me by that nickname." Hajime scoffed, but there was the same twinkle in his eye Kyo used to have whenever he tried to pretend he didn't appreciate my affection.

Sawa-chan didn't seem deterred, and she pulled him into a chaste kiss to lure him into a hug and quick dance.

"And as for you," Kyo came back over and placed his hand on the top of my head, palming it like a basketball. "Let the kids have their day, will ya? Come on, let's enjoy the party." He then started walking away, pulling me along by the head. It kept me a couple of hops to catch my balance, and after a few paces he shifted his hand from my scalp to my back. He gently directed me to a corner, where he kissed me, whispered to me how much the day reminded him of our wedding, and we danced to the slow song playing.

He had felt the same pain I did. That same longing for our little boy again. He couldn't handle Hajime being old enough to marry either. Yet he was strong, and he helped me stay strong that day as well. He let me know with that head tap that it wasn't the time to be sad. It was the time to look ahead at the wonderful life our son was about to start. A wonderful life that somehow lead to me getting frequent head bonks again.

"We're not going to have this battle every time, are we?" Sawa-chan arched her eyebrows as she looked over at Hajime.

"Sorry, dear, but I don't think it can really be helped. I mean, look at her?" Hajime gestured towards me cradling my granddaughter, my eyes overflowing with tears. "Would you want to give her up?"

"Kyo!" I whined, "Don't make me give her back! She's just too precious. Aren't you just in love? How could you not see her every day?"

"Tohru-san," Sawa-chan again reached for her daughter. "We really must be getting home to put her to bed. We'll visit more often, I promise."

I pulled her closer to me and smelled her hair. "I just need a few more minutes. Or you three could spend the night. We can make space for them, can't we, Kyo?" As I looked up at him I saw a small sneer as he swung to bonk me on the top of the head. It was the first one that hurt in decades.

"Don't be an idiot. She's their child and they can take her whenever they want. And our son is grown now, with his own house and own family. They don't need to stick around here if they prefer to be in their own beds tonight."

I sniffled and slowly gave my granddaughter back to Sawa-chan, who was cautiously watching Kyo. Hajime rested a hand on his wife's shoulder to re-focus her, and she accepted her baby girl. Then the kids gave me kind smiles, which helped ease the mild throbbing of where Kyo had hit me.

"Sorry. Kyo's right. I shouldn't have imposed on you."

"No problem, Mom. We appreciate that you love her so much." Hajime scooped his wife and daughter into his arms, and my heart swelled.

Kyo mimicked our son, pulling me into an embrace as he kissed where he hit my head. "It's alright to be selfish sometimes, but you can't be selfish about spending time with people, especially if it means kidnapping our grandkid."

In truth, I nearly 'kidnapped' – as Kyo put it – our granddaughter loads of times. It was just so hard to let her go. She was such a sweet dear. All of our grandchildren were, and I was getting quite a lumpy head from the amount of times Kyo had to knock me to remind me to give them back to their parents. I didn't mind it, though. I truly did miss that special connection that only came from Kyo's playful bops on the head. It wasn't terribly too long before our youngest grandchild was in junior high, and 'kidnappings' weren't as much of an issue. They were all old enough to leave of their own accord.

Still, Kyo discovered plenty of emotional moments to reprimand me: When our children each graduated from high school, and then college; when they each got married, and when they each had their first child; for every additional child they had; nearly every visit with our grandchildren; and the realizations of how old each grandchild was getting. One of the last, however, was when we had to move.

I sat out on our front porch, overlooking the hilltop scenery we've enjoyed for about fifty-years. It reminded me so much of Shigure-san's home, and all the happy memories I had there. Now, in this home Kyo and I had shared for our entire marriage, there were almost too many happy memories to recall them all. I let my mind wander as I watched the sunset, knowing I didn't have many more to enjoy from this vantage.

BONK!

Although the tap on my head didn't hurt, I still rubbed the spot with both hands. I looked over my shoulder and saw Kyo lowering himself to the porch, these days he took much greater care whenever he had to shift from standing to sitting and back again. A little grunt escaped his throat.

"You were daydreaming."

"S-sorry." I continued to rub where he tapped me.

"Daydreaming's fine, but you looked sad while doing so." He dusted his hands off on his pants, then rubbed his left knee.

"I'm sorry we have to move because of me." I straightened the blanket on my lap and watched as Kyo moved to massage his left ankle.

"Tohru, we're old, it happens. I'd much rather we move in with one of the kids instead of you straining to get up that hill every day. It doesn't matter to me that we're moving, as long as you're comfortable and we're together."

"You don't seem to have much difficulty with the hill."

"I also work out far more routinely and with more intensity than you. It kept my muscles strong. You're seventy-three; it's not a shame that you can't climb up a hundred steps each day."

"I just hate the idea of leaving our memories behind; abandoning our castle like this."

I heard another grunt as Kyo shifted so he was kneeling beside me instead of sitting. With a swift swing and a pull-back last second, he once more rapped my head gently with the back of his hand. He then pulled my head to his shoulder so he could run his fingers through my hair.

"My sweet idiot. You think we can't pack up the memories with us? Did you forget your mom once you had to leave your apartment? Did you forget your months living out of a tent? Are you having difficulties recalling life with your grandfather, or any of the time you spent getting to know me and the other Zodiacs?"

"N-no."

"The memories don't live here." He gestured to the house behind us. "Memories live here-" He rested his index finger on my chest, right where my heart would sit. "-and here." He again tapped on my head. "And don't think for an instant that I'll allow you to forget."

I rested my head on his shoulder and re-focused on the sunset. "Thank you, Kyo. Hey, Kyo?"

"Hmm?"

"You think it's alright if I daydream some more? It's such a lovely evening for it."

"Yeah, you idiot. You can zone out all you want. I'm here." He pulled me in for a kiss on my temple, and he grunted once more as he settled back into a lounge beside me. As we snuggled and enjoyed the orange glow of the sunset, my mind wandered to pleasant thoughts. Such as needing Kyo to bonk me on the head.

[paradisobound]

I Want It, I Got It: Chapter 3

Summary: Phil Lester was a worker for the BBC in London. Working in the advertising department, he was content being alongside his friend and fellow coworker PJ during every shift. However, the BBC is temporarily being used as a film set for a new movie staring Hollywood ‘It’ star, Daniel Howell. Being stuck as an extra on the set, Phil finds it’s hard to ignore the famous star. And maybe, just maybe, Dan finds it hard to ignore Phil as well.

Word Count:  1.6k (this chapter)

Warnings: Occasional swearing

Rating: Mature (for right now)

Updates will be every Wednesday at 4pm est and Sunday at 1pm EST

**MASTERLIST | READ ON AO3**

Phil didn’t realize how exhausted he actually would be. 

When he said his goodbyes to PJ and headed for the tube station, he made a quick stop to a Nando’s and picked up some lunch before he caught the tube and headed home.

As soon as he was through the door, he saw Martyn sitting on his couch with Spike sleeping on his lap. He was watching some Netflix nature documentary on Phil’s TV and eating some sort of a half-made sandwich that Phil figured he scrounged together after going through his fridge. 

“How was Spike?” Phil asked, distracting Martyn away from the documentary. 

Martyn picked up the remote and paused the documentary. “Mostly just slept.” 

At the sound of his name, Spike had already perked up and was ready to jump down from Martyn’s lap and run over to Phil. He jumped down on his tiny paws and patted his way over and Phil bent down, petting his gently on his back. 

“How was the set, famous actor?” 

“Shut it, Martyn. I was only there because the BBC required me to be.” Phil said as he sat down beside Martyn on the couch and began to unpack his Nando’s bag. He fished out his chicken wrap began to undo the packaging as Spike sat at his feet and hoped to be fed as well. 

“Do you get to see the famous Daniel Howell?” Martyn asks, reaching into his bag and stealing a chip. 

“Yeah, actually. We shared a quick moment.” Phil answered as he took a bite of his wrap and then broke off a piece of chicken and gave it to Spike. 

“What happened?” Martyn asked, stealing another chip. 

“We met eye to eye and then he smiled at me.” 

“Oh damn. When’s the wedding?” 

“You’re an ass.” Phil swatted at Martyn’s arm. Martyn just laughed. “I know it doesn’t really mean anything but the way he stared at me was just...something else. And that smile he flashed at me was like no other smile I’ve seen.” 

“Phil,” Martyn punctuated. “You’re acting like a love sick teenager. He’s a celebrity. He probably flashes that smile at everyone.” 

“But...” 

“You’re really about to argue this?” Martyn laughed. “Lad has you ready to go to bed and you’ve never even spoke.” 

Phil rolled his eyes and finished his wrap, throwing the container into the bag. He pulled out his chips and groaned when he saw Martyn had ate almost all of them. 

“I don’t know, Martyn. It was different.” 

And Phil still stood by that even into the afternoon as he found himself suddenly wanting to look Daniel up on social media. He started with Twitter first and he went through and saw all of his tweets―or rather lack there of. Daniel didn’t tweet all that much. But when he did it was often kind of comical. He liked talking about memes which was different than what he was expecting. 

From his Twitter, he ended up going on Instagram. Phil had to admit that Daniel’s Instagram photos were near flawless. It was no wondering he had nearly 20 million followers on there and received about 5 million likes a photo. It was kind of amazing compared to Phil’s measly two thousand followers that he’s gotten over the years. 

He went through the photos and he reads through some of the comments on them. Most people talk about how much they love him and some even get replies back from him if they’re lucky. 

He scrolls back up Daniel’s profile to the picture of him and the dog and he looks it over, smiling. There was something about Daniel and Phil thought he was finally understanding the hype behind Daniel. The reason why People Magazine called him one of the sexiest men alive. Because Daniel was attractive. He was actually stunning. 

And just like that, with a defeated sigh, Phil realizes he’s developing a stupid crush on him and there is nothing he can do. He’ll probably never see Daniel again. 

***

Turns out never seeing Daniel again was completely false. He got an email from the BBC two days later asking if he could go to the BBC and help out. Phil didn’t know what they meant by help out but he still reported to the BBC anyway on the day that they asked. 

Arriving at near seven in the morning with a Gregg’s coffee in hand, Phil arrived to the BBC once more with a crowd of people waiting outside. He could hear scenes being shot in the distance somewhere in the building and he really did not know what he was supposed to be doing. 

The same woman from before met up with him, this time introducing herself as Mabel. “So we loved you as a background extra in the scene before so we decide to bring you back for another scene. That is of course if we still have your full consent for it.” 

Phil nodded slowly. “What am I going to be doing?” 

“So it’ll be a scene with Daniel. There will be no words or anything. You’ll be standing in the coffee room with a group of other background actors, Daniel will come in, stand beside you, grab a coffee, and then that’s it.” 

Phil furrowed his brows. “Is that all?” He asked. “Why me specifically for this scene?” 

Mabel smirks at him. “Daniel requested you.” 

Phil sputtered, nearly dropping his coffee cup on the ground. “He doesn’t know me?” 

“Well, he asked for the ‘black haired male from the scene before’ and we kind of figured out he meant you.” She said. 

Phil felt flustered. There was so much he could unpack in that moment but instead, he was being rushed off to the set of the coffee scene. Mabel took his coffee off the side and then instructed him on how the scene was going to go. Phil felt somewhat reassured to know that Mabel wasn’t positive if the scene would be in the final cut but he still was intrigued being a background extra. 

Who knew that the BBC telling him he had to report here worked in his benefit? 

He got into place with all of the other actors and they all got ready for whatever was going to happen. 

Then Daniel walked in and it was like a different dimension again. His smile that he flashed to those he walked by and that perfectly styled hair. Once again, Phil got it. He got why so many people are infatuated with Dan because he’s infatuated too. He’s never been like this with someone before. It’s weird. It’s strange. He doesn’t know how to react...for fucks sake Daniel asked for him to come back just for this scene. Isn’t that a bit unusual? 

“Hey mate.” 

And now Daniel was talking to him? He felt his palms sweat and his heart beat through his chest. 

“Hey.” 

He’s trying so hard to keep his cool but he’s losing it fast. He turns and looks at Dan, all dressed up in that business attire they had him dressed in. Phil’s not even entirely sure what this movie is about but he could care less if it meant he was now being stood in the same scene. 

“I feel like this is probably awkward,” Dan says, bringing his lips into a tight line. “But they were asking me who I wanted in this scene and I don’t know, I just thought you did really well in the scene from a few days ago. You were like natural?” 

Phil blushed, his skin flushing red. “Oh thank you. I did the multimedia and film masters program at the University of York.” 

Dan cocked an eyebrow and nodded. “Could have fooled me.” He said. “Never would have thought you had experience in this field.” 

Phil felt his stomach drop a little bit because he wasn’t entirely sure what Dan meant by that. But this was Dan. This was the biggest celebrity in Hollywood right now. He needs to remember this. 

The director started and he did exactly what Mabel had explained to him. Within just a few moments, the director was yelling cut again and then it was over. The scene was done. The director said that they got their shot and then they were all leaving the set. 

He’s leaving the BBC when he hears someone come up behind him. He half thinks that maybe he left something at the set but he’s quickly mistaken. The person behind him is wearing a baggy black sweatshirt and a pair of skinny jeans. 

Phil can’t figure out who this person is until his eyes focus on the face covered by the hood and he realizes that this is Daniel Howell standing there, coming after him. Daniel Howell...wants to catch up with him? 

“Hey!” Daniel called. “Can I get your name? You seem like a super nice person and not like a totally crazed fan girl.” 

“Oh! Yeah.” Phil stumbles awkwardly. “It’s Phil Lester.” 

“Do you have a Twitter or an Instagram?” Dan asks, pulling out his phone from his pocket. 

“You can find me under the url amazingphil.” 

“Amazingphil?” Dan snickers. “That’s kind of amazing actually. Where did you come up with that?” 

“It was a university thing.” Phil said, blushing. “It just kind of stuck.” 

“I wish I had a cool nickname like that.” Dan muttered to himself. “But sadly, I...”

“Dan! You’re wanted on set in twenty minutes and Kirsten is requesting you in hair and make up.” 

Dan shoots Phil an apologetic glance and then flashes a smile to him again. “I’ll see you around!” 

And then he’s gone. He’s walking back towards the people who called for him. 

And really, Phil is left standing there, completely awestruck. He’s not even sure that what just happened was even real. Was any of this real? He couldn’t tell. 

He pinched his thigh. He definitely felt it. So no, he wasn’t dreaming. 

He actually just had a semi-successful conversation with the Daniel Howell. 

He might actually faint. 

Last Chapter | Next Chapter 

[quinlin-blog1]

Blurb from What’s It Like

Axel Fletcher was a nine year old boy. He had brown eyes that were full of life and messy brown hair to match. He lived with his Mother and Father and his two siblings, both were girls.

Axel went to school like any other child would do, he did his homework, he got good grades and he even helped the Kindergartners with their lunches. But like any other child, Axel also got bullied.

It was always during break, Axel had just finished helping the Kindergarten class and he would make his way outside to the playground. Axel’s favorite spot on the playground, was under the slide. Not many kids went there because they were too busy playing on the swings or on the slide itself. All break, this was where Axel would sit, happily coloring in his drawing book, oblivious of the other children.

This obliviousness left Axel when two eighth grade boys came up to him. These two boys were known throughout the entire playground as the bullies and if you see them, you’d best avoid them. But unfortunately for Axel, today, he didn’t see them coming.

Axel was using an orange coloring pen, to color in the bill of the duck on the page, when suddenly the pen was ripped from his hands and a muddy, scuffed boots stepped right on his picture.

“Hey!” Axel exclaimed.

It was in the moment that Axel chose to look up at whoever had ruined his picture, expecting and hoping for it to be a kindergartener, playing around with him like they had done moments before, but not today.

“Watch it Shrimp!” The first boy told Axel as he snapped the coloring pen in his beefy hands.

Axel looked at the two boys, hoping that maybe he could just disappear and they would never see him again.

“Hey! We were talking to you Shrimp!” The second boy exclaimed.

Axel looked around the playground for a teacher, even another student that may help him, but the playground had been deserted. There wasn’t a teacher or student in sight. Now Axel really wish he was invisible.

The one boy watched ass Axel’s glance fleeted to his picture, so the older boy picked up the drawing and laugh a loud, fake laugh.

“What’s this supposed to be? Roadkill?”

Tears jumped to Axel’s eyes and he quickly looked away, hoping that the bullies wouldn’t see him crying and pick on him even more.

But luck, just didn’t like Axel today.

The first boy pulled Axel up by the collar of his shirt and then shoved Axel down to the hard gravel ground again. Axel could feel tiny pebbles sticking into the palms of his hands and his back and bum hurt from the harsh impact, but Axel didn’t cry, not again, he didn’t want to be weak in front of the older boys.

Once again, Axel was picked up by his collar and the second boy hung him on the edge on the railing for the slide, high enough to make sure that Axel’s feet didn’t touch the ground.

Axel thrashed and kicked, hoping that if he moved enough he would get unhooked, but looking down at the ground, it seemed much farther away than it had before and suddenly Axel didn’t want to fall, nor did he want to stay hooked on that railing. The two boys stepped back and started laughing cruelly, really, Axel didn’t see what was so funny. Why would you laugh at someone who’s stuck and can’t get down? But it was the mind of a big boy, as much as Axel tried, he didn’t understand how an eighth grader thought and didn’t think he ever would.

Now Axel was just hanging limply in the air, trying to hold his head up although it felt like his head weighed a million pounds. His legs were beginning to go numb and Axel already couldn’t feel his fingers. His back was getting cold from the light wind, the back of his shirt was stretching awkwardly and to make matters worse, the bell rang.

The bell rang, this meant that the other children would be coming out from wherever they had been playing and would see Axel hanging there. They were bound to laugh at him. He was going to get teased, laughed at and people would never let Axel live this day down.

But one good thing would come out of this, maybe a teacher would see.

‘Maybe they’ll get expelled’ Axel thought bitterly ‘maybe they’ll have to do community service.’

As children filled the school yard once more, Axel became aware of how many students there really were, there were hundreds. And they were all standing there, laughing at him.

Well most of them were, the only ones that weren’t were the ones that thought practical jokes were silly and a waste of time, but these children wouldn’t voice their thoughts, nor would they help poor Axel down from his perch, so really, Axel would remain there.

It was when a teacher came five minutes later that Axel finally got down. For the rest of the day, Axel kept his head down, hoping that his classmates wouldn’t tease him too harshly. The end of the day couldn’t have come quicker in Axel’s mind. As soon as the bell rang, Axel was out of his seat, grabbing his backpack and putting his coat on, soon Axel was running out the front doors of the school, ignoring the other people that were snickering and pointing.

The bus ride home wasn’t eventful. Axel sat in the seat closest to the driver hoping that no one would throw paper wads at him if he did this. But instead, kids just spat spit balls at the back of his neck and called out mean things. No matter how hard, Axel couldn’t shut it all out.

So when the bus reached his stop, Axel jumped up and ran out towards his home.

Axel opened his front door, took off his coat and shoes, dumped his backpack on the ground and ran up to his bedroom. He knew that his parents weren’t home yet, his mother was visiting his aunt in Florida whilst his father was at work. The babysitter was going to be there soon so Axel only had a few moments to himself.

In those moments, Axel decided that he was going to go hide himself in the attic and not come out for the rest of the day. In his mind, it made sense, he didn’t want to be bothered and no one went into the attic anyway, so Axel grabbed his favorite comic books, a few packages of crackers from the kitchen and pulled the ladder down. The attic was dusty, as attics are, in one corner there were boxes of old Christmas decorations that would not be taken out for another few months, in another corner there was a box that was labeled “Axel’s Baby stuff” and there was a clutter of other random boxes around the attic.

Axel found a folder out chair in one of the many boxes and unfolded it next to the grimy window. Looking out of the dirty glass pane, Axel could see the other houses on the street, cars driving, most likely filled with children from school, there were dogs running on the street, cats sitting on fences and leaves blowing from the trees. It was truly beautiful. Now that Axel cared. The beauty of the outside world never really struck Axel and he never understood why his mother was always talking about how amazing nature was.

Huffing, Axel sat back in the chair and watched as the sun slowly went down behind the clouds and down onto the horizon. He could hear his babysitter downstairs, calling for him, telling him that it was dinner, but Axel wasn’t hungry and he was pretty sure that if he tried to eat, it wouldn’t end well.

So Axel stayed in the chair, in the attic, looking out the window, watching as the sky faded into oranges and pinks and yellows, then as sit faded into a dark blue and black. The stars had come out by the time that Axel heard this front door opening, alerting him that his mother and father had returned home and his babysitter was leaving.

Something glittered in the sky and Axel looked up. It was a star, just like the other stars, but this one was special somehow. It was brighter, bigger and Axel could’ve looked at it all night long.

“If you wish on a star, maybe it will come true”

Axel remembered the words his mother had told him when he was young, of course Axel didn’t believe any of that nonsense at the time nor did he now, but it was worth a try.

So Axel closed his eyes, took a deep breath and thought to the star.

“I wish I was invisible. I wish that I was invisible and no one would ever know where I was. I wish that I was invisible so that I will never get teased again”

With that last thought, Axel opened his eyes and looked at his hands. When he realized that they were still there, he sighed.

Axel folded that chair up once more and put it back in its box, making sure that he put the box exactly where he found it, because he didn’t want his mother to be cross with him and then Axel went down the ladder.

“Axel! You didn’t eat your dinner” Axel’s Mother stated as he walked into the sitting room. She’d returned earlier that day.

“I’m not hungry” Axel said quietly.

“The Sitter said that you’ve been up in the attic since you got home from school. Did you need something?” Axel’s father asked.

Axel simply shook his head “I thought I would find my Soldier toy up there, but I couldn’t find him” Axel lied.

“Well I’m sure he’ll turn up. Now, go eat your dinner, I’ve just warmed it up and then go straight to bed” His mother ordered.

So Axel went and sat at the table and slowly ate his cold dinner. The chicken didn’t taste good, the potatoes were dry and his broccoli were mushy, all in all, Axel was excited to go to bed. Once he had finished his dinner, Axel put his plate in the sink, kissed his mother and father good night, then went up to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

As he did this, Axel wondered why his wish hadn’t worked.

‘Did I do it wrong? Was I missing something? Maybe the star needed some food and maybe it would have answered my wish if I had given it some chicken. Do stars eat chicken? Do stars eat at all?’

All these thoughts went through Axel’s mind as he finished brushing his teeth and he climbed into his warm bed.

Grabbing his stuffed bear, Axel closed his eyes and the last thing he saw was the star, before he fell asleep.

The next Morning Axel woke up dreading school. He didn’t want to go and he buried himself deeper into his covers, hoping that the world would disappear and school would cease to exist. But reality came to him when his babysitter called up the stairs to him, saying that it was time to go to school.

So Axel begrudgingly got out of his bed and trudged over to his cupboard, where he quickly got dressed, put on his shoes on, brushed out his hair and grabbed his backpack and ran down the stairs, where his sitter was holding his lunch.

“Turkey and Cheese, with no mayo and extra ketchup” His sitter recited.

Axel smiled a fake smile and took the paper bag out of the baby sitter’s hands.

“Thank you” He said before rushing out the door.

But as soon as he did, Axel felt a sudden wave of dizziness surround him, stumbling for a moment, Axel blinked the spots dancing in front of his eyes away and he continued to walk to the bus stop. He was hesitant when he saw that there were other kids standing there, he didn’t want to be made fun of because of what had happened yesterday, but when he arrived at the bus stop, no one greeted him, no one said hi, or asked him how he was, no one teased him, no one even looked at him. This relieved Axel, he waited at the bus stop in peace, and no one spoke to him, which was alright with Axel because he didn’t really know any of them.

When the bus arrived, Axel was the first to get on, he sat in the front row where no one else joined him.

In wasn’t a very long drive to school, around five minutes if the stops to pick up the other children weren’t long. During this short time, Axel looked out the window and waited to get to school, still dreading what might await him.

But finally the bus stopped at Axel’s school and all the children got off the bus, Axel going last, hoping to get lost in the crowd, but nobody noticed him.

Everything went normally, Axel went to his locker cubby, placed his coat and backpack in it, and then walked to class, where Axel sat at his desk, waiting for all the other children to join him.

Soon enough, the classroom slowly filled with other children and Axel’s teacher began roll call.

Considering the first letter in Axel’s name was A, his name was quite near the beginning of the list.

“Axel” His teacher called out

“Here!” Axel replied like always. But his teacher didn’t hear him.

“Axel?”

“Here!”

But once again, poor Axel wasn’t heard.

“He wasn’t on the bus today. Maybe he’s sick?” One of the other children suggested

“But I’m right here!” Axel protested, getting up out of his seat.

Axel walked over to his teacher and waved his hand in front of their face, but it was like Axel was invisible.

Then the thought hit Axel. He had wished on the start that he could be invisible, he woke up this morning and he wasn’t.

‘But then I got very dizzy when I walked out the front door’ Axel reminded himself ‘Maybe I’m only invisible when I’m not in my home’

This made Axel very happy. He could do whatever he wanted to and not have to worry about anybody seeing him.

Grinning to himself, Axel made his way silently (Although no one could hear him) out of the classroom and down the hall to find the grade eight class.

Inside this classroom, was a grade eight class learning about biology, and the two bullies from the day before were there as well.

Axel slowly walked into the classroom and sat in the teacher’s chair, watching ass the teacher explained bird physiology. Axel played with the things lying on the teacher’s desk, things like tack and erasers and confiscated phones. The class seemed to drag on forever in Axel’s mind and he was sure that some of the other students felt the same way. Some of them were staring blankly at the chalk board, other were napping with their heads tucked onto their desks, while there were very few writing down every word the Teacher was saying, whether it be important or not.

From what Axel gathered, the teacher was both telling a story about a bird and telling a story about his childhood, both were equally boring. Axel looked around the classroom for anything he could mess with and his eyes came into contact with the other chalk board. The one the teacher wasn’t writing on. One this chalk board was the date, the eighth grade lessons for that day, reminders about a math test on Wednesday and an old game of tic-tac-toe. Grinning, Axel made his way over to this board and picked up the chalk board eraser. Axel raised the Eraser and began to wipe away the words and numbers written there. Slightly paranoid, Axel kept looking over his shoulder to see if any of the students had seen him, but no one had, in fact Axel had remained invisible to the entire class.

Soon, Axel had wiped the entire chalkboard clean of the writing and he picked up a piece of blue chalk, grinning a Cheshire Cat grin. Axel put the chalk to the board and began drawing a giant wobbly picture. As he drew, the picture turned out to be a picture of a volcano, a blue volcano with pink lava flooding from the top. Personally, if you were to ask Axel, he’d say it was the best Volcano he had ever drawn. As Axel moved on to draw a spaceship hovering in the sky by the volcano, he realized that he was too short to reach the place he needed to. So Axel walked over to a stack of spare chairs in the corner and picked one up. Looking around Axel realized that surely someone would notice a floating chair being walked across the classroom.

Ignoring those thoughts Axel began to carry the chair to his old spot in front of the chalk board. To his shock, no one saw him.

Shrugging, Axel began to draw the Millennium Falcon from Star Wars.

AS he drew, Axel heard a grunt as one of the students woke up, yet he ignored this noise and continued to draw. Suddenly, the classroom erupted into whispers and chatter and the teacher stopped his droning.

“What is the matter?” He asked

One of the eighth grade students pointed to the chalk board and the teacher looked over and let out a shriek.

The author is sure that you would too if you saw a floating piece of chalk drawing a picture of a spaceship.

“What is this!?” The teacher demanded.

“The classroom is haunted!” One girl cried out

Grinning again, Axel put the chalk down, causing several children to squeal and look around to look for him. Axel went over to one of his bullies from yesterday and began playing with his hair.

“What’s happening!?” His friend exclaimed as Axel put a pencil in the boy’s ear.

As the cherry on the cake, Axel went over to the chalk board with the teachers writing and wrote, in giant letters. BOO!

Everyone in the classroom began to scream and they jumped from their seats out of the classroom, the teacher close behind them.

Axel was doubled over in fits of laughter as he listened to the class freak out in the hallways.

‘That was fun’ Axel thought to himself ‘What should I do now?’

As a response to that, Axel’s stomach rumbled and Axel happily skipped to the classroom, giggling as he passed the grade eight class. In the cafeteria, the lunch lady was scooping things into bowls, getting ready for lunch which happened to be very soon. Axel walked over and grabbed a piece of a turkey sandwich, which had been put on a plate not moments before. When the lunch Lady turned around and saw a sandwich missing she looked around and picked up a cleaver.

“Come here ya vermin, try it!” She then began to run around the cafeteria, trying to find the “Mice” that had stolen the sandwich.

The day went by too quickly for Axel’s liking. During the next few hours, he had thrown cheese strings at the Secretary, Poured water on the head of his French teacher, whom he thoroughly disliked, given flowers to the girl that he had a tiny crush on and sat in the principal’s office, while spinning on the Principal’s chair.

The bus ride home was pretty boring compared to the rest of the day, he stood at the very front, not sat, stood and waited to get off. When he got off the bus, he ran home and stopped at his porch.

‘If I go into my house, will I reappear?’ He asked himself. ‘Well I’ll have to go in sometime’

So Axel took a step forwards and walked into his house.

“Hey Axel” His babysitter said “How was school?” She looked over at his, smiling lightly.

Axel grinned and set his bag down “Oh you know, pretty boring”

[shewhowantsmouseears]

The Son Of Scheherazade, 21

Notes: As always, thanks to my fantastic editors, Drucilla and BlueShifted!

Originally this entire arc was going to be stuck in comedy. (honestly, most of this story was meant to comical when it was first made.) But after some good long thoughts, I decided that things should take a bit more of a dramatic turn.

In other words, next chapter? Gird your heart, things are going to get worse before they get better.

Summary: The next piece of the map has been found, deep within a mysterious cave that offers your greatest desires. But can this  crew survive the caverns when they can't survive each other?

Despite being woken up in the middle of the night, Mickey managed to get up bright and early the next morning. While he never got a straight answer out of Minnie about what had upset her, he decided not to push it. When she was ready, she'd surely tell him. For now he decided to focus on the upcoming location of the next piece of the map. Something about a cave – as usual, Daisy was never one to give details until they had arrived. While the disaster with the Imp hadn't exactly been fun, Mickey was looking forward to a new adventure to learn things and better himself.

He walked into the empty hallways, stifling a yawn behind one hand, Minnie loyally on his right and Pluto lagging behind. “I wonder what today will be like,” Mickey said sleepily, rubbing the last bits of dream dust from his eyes.

But not too long after they started walking, Minnie suddenly spoke, “Master? May I ask you something?”

Mickey glanced over, wondering why she was upping the formality and politeness today. “Sure, Minnie, you can always ask me anything.”

“Do...” Minnie was already regretting asking this, and she knew the answer, yet there was a weight on her chest making her press on. “Do you love your parents?”

Any further drowsiness in Mickey was swiftly swept away, startled by such a question. “Huh?” He momentarily wondered if he heard right, then tried to guess what he'd done in his past that would make her doubt his deep affection for his family. “Of course I do! They mean the world to me! Why else would I be doing all this to rescue them?” His eyebrow quirked. “Why do you ask?”

Minnie, obviously, couldn't just say she recently learned his father was a murderer and that his mother miraculously stopped his blood-lust. “I... I was just … I don't know a lot about them, so...I was wondering what they were like.”

Mickey and Minnie had spent so much time together that Mickey had begun to recognize and understand some of her quirks – when Minnie was trying to find a word loophole, her eyes would widen just a bit, she'd bite on her lower lip, and then she'd speak with a gentle carefulness like someone trying to make their way down a rough hill. Like many of her habits, Mickey found it absolutely adorable. So adorable, really, that it became difficult to care why she was clearly lying. “Well, I'm pretty sure I've told you what my mother is like...but my father, oh boy, he's always over the top.” With a chuckle, Mickey resumed his walk. “Everything's always big and loud with him. The only time I've ever known him to be quiet was when mother was telling one of her stories. Gosh, I remember when I was little, she almost lost her head,” Mickey took no notice of Minnie paling at that ironic phrasing, “ because my father was trying to see how high he could toss me!” The chuckle turned into a boisterous laugh, recalling how his mother nearly hit the ceiling when Mickey literally hit the ceiling, his father trying to apologize through wild guffaws. This was a boy who loved his father.

Did Mickey know about his father's bloody deeds? He must have, she thought. How could the story of Scheherazade spread so far and not have the wretched crimes attached to it? Did Mickey forgive his father for his actions, or were they so far away that they couldn't possibly reach him? Was Mickey ever made to suffer for his father's past? Even with all the good his mother had done,  there were some things in this world that could never be forgiven. Minnie lifted her head, as Mickey went on about the time his father had brought in fresh fish so he and Mickey could pretend their bath-tub was an ocean. As he laughed about the smell that room had for days, the golden scar on his neck bounced on his throat.

It was then Minnie remembered the famous show-down with Daisy that felt like an eternity ago, where that scar had helped him achieve victory. Where had such a hideous gash come from? Why hadn't it healed properly? For the first time since it attained its golden glow, Minnie actually stared deeply at it, studying it, and with great horror realized this was not a wound made by accident or caused by childish mistake. She'd been through enough horrifying masters to know that kind of cut, that was the kind of slice meant to end a life, someone had actually tried to kill -

“Minnie, what was the last thing I said?” Mickey asked of her, slightly miffed but more amused.

Minnie stopped in place, caught and rather grateful she had to stop thinking. “I. Um... something about... fish?” She faltered, and then shut her eyes, embarrassed. “I'm sorry, Master, here I am asking about your family and not even listening!”

“It's fine, it's fine.” Mickey waved a hand, not minding. To him, it was rather funny that someone didn't care to hear about his famous parents. “If you ask me, just talking about them doesn't do 'em any justice. You'll only get to know 'em when you see those two face to face.”

Minnie blinked – until this moment, and she realized in hindsight it was rather silly she hadn't come to this conclusion before, she didn't realize she'd be meeting his parents. Logically, she'd have to – Mickey refused to use her wishes, and turn her into a mortal, until they were freed. That would mean Mickey being right there with his parents, and Minnie, naturally, at his side. Could she face the former villain that fathered Mickey without seeing his face soaked in blood? And what of the beautiful mother, who Mickey would naturally judge all women against? Would they approve of such a girl being with their prince? “I... suppose you're right,” she finally said. “I won't know them until I meet them... and they won't know me until they meet me.”

Mickey nodded, but then paused for thought. “... Actually, since my Ma has that Eye thing, maybe she already knows you! Going by what Daisy said, all she said is a name to keep tabs on folks, and since she has my name, she has to know all of yours!” To Mickey, this was of great comfort. His parents could see how far in his journey he'd come, how much he'd grown and learned, about the amazing friends he'd made, and about the girl he had fallen for. No doubt they'd seen the horrors he committed against the Grimwolds, but surely they'd also seen his remorse and his efforts to change.

Minnie wasn't as pleased. “I'm... I'm sure she hasn't seen everything!” she said quickly, cheeks beginning to redden. “I'm sure she's so focused on where she is and what's going on that she doesn't watch us that often!” Like when Minnie threw a hissy fit about Lotus Blossom, or when Minnie did those ridiculous cheers in Rumansy, or when Minnie yelled at Mickey at the amusement park, or last night when Minnie WASN'T GOING TO DO ANYTHING TO MICKEY WHEN HE WAS SLEEPING!!!! “...I don't think your parents will like me that much.” Could her master please wish up a rock for her to crawl under and die?

“Aw, don't be silly!” Mickey lightly slapped Minnie on the shoulder, oblivious as usual to her inner panic attacks. “Everyone loves you, who wouldn't? I bet right now my folks practicing all kinds of silly welcomes to say when we rescue them.” Although now that he thought about it, he did kind of hope to get to his parents before Minnie did and beg them not to gush about his first romance. Minnie needed to be eased into his parent's strange ways, not be given the full blast right away. Still, he had faith that his mother and father would adore Minnie and gleefully welcome her to their palace life. He could already picture his mother wanting to dress Minnie up in dozens of dresses to see what suited her best while his father shared humiliating stories of Mickey's childhood. Minnie would be in a better life with freedom to do as she pleased, where she pleased, with who she pleased. Father, Mother, Mickey, Minnie, and Pluto, all together as one happy family. This gave him such happiness he couldn't stop smiling.

At least not until he was in the dining room and saw everybody's glum faces around the table – save for Daisy, who had propped herself up in Goofy's seat again, her pipe unlit in her beak. Mickey looked around, surprised that the energetic crew seemed so despondent, their bodies sagging over the table, eyes worn out, heads hung low. “Some kinda morning greet this is!” Mickey said loudly, getting their attention. “What, did somebody die?”

Somehow that little joke seemed to make things infinitely worse, as they now swiftly turned their heads away from him, Clarabelle clutching her stomach and Jose eating his cigar instead of smoking it. “Sheesh, tough crowd.” Mickey mumbled as he walked over and pulled out his chair. The breakfast meal seemed very small this morning, as if whoever had made it – Horace – imagined the crew wouldn't have much an appetite. Mickey shrugged off the oddness and began to eat after sitting. “So, Daisy, where's the next map piece again?”

Daisy straightened up, popping the pipe out of her mouth. “The Cave of Wants. It's located deep within a maze of caverns, a dangerous trap that has ensnared thousands of lives.” She pressed her fingers together, forming a triangle shape. “Legend has it that the gods once possessed a mirror showing them their greatest desire, but after a war with mankind, the mirror fell down to earth and shattered, creating the cave. Thus, whoever goes within will find what they've always wished for... but they can never leave! They are trapped by their greed, following the twists and turns of the cave until they die! Many have entered, determined to take the pieces of the mirror outside with them and sell them for infinite riches. After all, there are many who would love to see their wishes granted without doing any of the work. Hundreds of adventurers have braved the caverns for this fortune... but none have succeeded! Many call it the Cave of Death, because once you go in... you are never seen again!”

Even though the majority of the crew was still weighed down by the retelling of Scheherazade's fame, Daisy still managed to their attention with her excellent story-weaving skills, and a fresh wave of excitement and fear sailed through bodies... except for Donald, who was extra bitter from the night before. “Wait a minute,” he pointed out, “If nobody's made it out alive, then how does anybody know what's in there in the first place?”

Perhaps a day ago, or maybe even long before that, Daisy would have come up with a terribly witty lie about being connected to the gods, but the acid in Donald's tongue so burned her that her creativity faltered. “Because shut up, that's why.” What was she so upset about? This is exactly what she wanted. She wouldn't be surprised if the crew would find a way to keep her off the ship and sail away without her once the map had been attained. They'd be better off without her, and she'd find new entertainment to keep her busy. She'd done it dozens of times before, what made this so different? “Listen, when have I ever been wrong?”

Everyone's hands went up.

“...Okay, when have I ever been wrong about something that was important?”

Their hands stayed up.

“You guys are no fun.”

Goofy cleared his throat, ready to take over before things went belly-up. “This cave sounds like pretty bad business, so we have to stick together. What if we got a piece of rope and tied ourselves altogether with it?”

“Captain, we love you,” Clarabelle said as gently as she could, “but we can't trust you not to trip, tumble, or otherwise make sixty knots in sixty seconds.”

“Thirty seconds.” Horace felt the need to add.

Goofy conceded the point. “Guess we'll just have to hold onto each other... and we can't distracted. No split-ups, no running off, no going away without telling anyone, no matter what you see or hear.”

“... Why is everyone looking at me?” Mickey asked after Goofy had made his clear instructions.

Clarabelle sucked in air through her teeth. “Mickey, how can I put this delicately...”

“You can't,” Horace quipped, earning a kick to the shin.

“You do have a tendency to go into 'Hero Mode',” Daisy answered, making quotes with her fingers, her snake copying with his tail. “And the cave might use that against you. It might show you an illusion of a girl being robbed by vicious thieves, or Minnie misplacing her clothes-”

“DAISY!”

“-so we just need you to tone it down a notch.”

Mickey mercifully ignored the bait. “Okay, okay, so maybe at times I look before I leap... But I promise, that won't happen this time. We'll stay as a group from the beginning to the end until we find the map piece! And since we all have different desires, we can't all get fooled by the same thing. There will always be someone to snap us back into reality.”

Donald turned his back toward Daisy, intending on ignoring her as much as possible, though this also pained him. “And I've gotten much better at controlling my powers! I can just smash those mirrors with my lightning! I won't let any of you get caught...” He then cast a hateful side-glance at Daisy, unable to help himself. “Because I actually care about all of you.”

Daisy smirked, her newest mask the strongest one yet. “How sweet of you. Just try not to get too emotional in there, being drowned in a cave via raindrops would be such a disappointing way to die.”

Mickey looked back and forth between Donald and Daisy, seeing a battle of glares playing out before him, and he leaned toward Panchito, whispering, “Say, uh, did I miss something?” Last he checked, Donald usually went out of his way to defend Daisy, and her taunts towards him were much more playful. All of a sudden they were now bitter enemies.

Panchito was a terrible liar, as evidenced by his long, desperate “Ummmmmmmm,” as his eyes bounced all over the room. “I cannot recall missing anyone or anything or anywhere! Jose, friend among friends, do you remember missing or being missed?”

Jose at this point had eaten more of his cigar than his breakfast. “Panchito, whose glory is only matched by your bravery, if something was missing, we would find it, and if we're not finding anything, then nothing is missing!”

Mickey wondered why he ever bothered asking the two strangest members of the crew about anything ever. “I give up.” Adventure couldn't be started on an empty stomach, so he started to eat, and the heavy air continued to hang all around them. Most of the crew decided that nothing could be done about it.

But Panchito Pistoles and Jose Carioca would not let this stand. After Mickey had questioned the change in Donald and Daisy's behavior, Jose looked at Panchito, and Panchito looked at Jose. With a silent nod, they understood each other at once. They were simple birds with simple needs, and whenever they devoted themselves to something, it got 110% of their energy. Donald's happiness was 120% devotion, and how could they live with themselves if they couldn't help their dear Donald? They couldn't suddenly find his family, but perhaps the cave would give them something else to work with. They would find a way to fix everyone's sadness, Donald's first and foremost! He was their third Caballero! Their brother from another mother! Their mister who was an A-Lister! And so as they ate their breakfast, they plotted and planned, not once thinking about any desires of theirs that would show up in the cave.

~*~

As usual, Pluto was instructed to stay behind and guard the ship, though at this point Mickey believed there was little point in doing this. Not once had anyone aside from a crew member tried to climb aboard, and any treasure that could be stolen wasn't something that carried a lot of personal value. Mickey thought about this as they sunk their anchor in the deep, rich red sand below and how much he'd used his parents gifts – the pup and the rug. The rug hadn't gotten much use since day one, but then it was such a hefty thing that carrying it around everywhere seemed ridiculous. Why, out of all the gifts to prove her Eye was real, did Scheherazade give him the flying carpet? What other secrets was she hiding?

The sand was soft underneath as they walked, and there was a scent of old clay breezing by them. The land beneath them became steeper as they continued, almost as if they were heading toward the underworld or the lair of Hades. Heavy clouds drifted above their heads, blocking out the sun and erasing the shadows. It was because of this they almost didn't see the cave at first – but when they did, the group collectively gulped.

Instead of being attached to a mountain or hill, the gaping mouth of the cave opened up from the ground surrounded by nothing, except for a woman in heavy robes waiting expectantly. The rocky surface of the cave was darker than the shadows, darker than any night, and even as they squinted they couldn't see anything inside the open hole. Only two stalagmites hung from the rim of the entrance, glassy and clear in appearance, making the entire cave appear as if it was a hideous beast waiting for its next meal.

“Could use a nice 'welcome' mat,” Horace said dryly, and only his wife's iron grip prevented him from retreating.

The woman took her time to approach them, her face difficult to see given how large her gray hood was. Black hair spilled out from her shoulders, and her arms were linked together in her long sleeves. Once she was in front of the crew, she bowed respectively. “Captain Sinbad, Son of Scheherazade... I welcome you to the Cave of Wants.” Mickey thought her voice sounded familiar, but couldn't place it right away. “I am here to guide you.”

Mickey raised his eyebrows, surprised. It would be nice to have a little bit of help, but this was too good to be true. “Well, gee, miss, we'd love to have you along, but... how'd you know who we were?”

The woman then chuckled, suddenly sounding much younger than she was pretending to be. “Who could ever forget you... Big Ears?” As if that infamous nickname wasn't enough to jar all their memories, the woman slid her hood down, revealing -

“Lotus Blossom?!” Mickey, Minnie and Donald all shouted together, mutually horrified. Goofy merely blinked, remembering her but not terribly worried.

Clarabelle grabbed Daisy by her ponytail and spun her around. “You knew she was gunna be here, didn't you?”

“I did not,” Daisy said with an unconvincing grin. She had never heard of a guide for the cave before now, but why question something this hilarious? “Maybe the cave got ahead of itself and granted my wish to see Mickey's ex-girlfriend for myself!”

“SHE IS NOT MY EX-ANYTHING!”

Minnie shoved Mickey aside in order to confront Lotus directly, who had been laughing at all these reactions. “You! What are you doing here? Trying to trick my Master again?”

Lotus merely smiled, bending over to match Minnie's height. “It's so nice to see you again too, oh girl who Mickey finds uncomfortable to kiss.”

“THAT'S NOT WHAT HE MEANT!” Much like the last time Lotus drove Minnie crazy, Donald put himself in charge of hoisting Minnie up in his arms to make sure no further trouble was caused. “WE CAN'T TRUST HER! YOU STAY AWAY FROM MY MASTER! PUT ME DOWN!”

Goofy, sensing this might go in circles for a while, took Minnie's place. “You said you're here to guide us, Lotus Blossom? How come?”

Lotus stood up straight, clearing her throat to give a more dignified response this time. “Well, once I served my time for theft, I decided to turn over a new leaf. The last guide to the Cave was retiring, so I took her place. It's my job to get people in and out of the cave safely, but I can't always guarantee it. So if you want to go in there, you'd better be prepared.” She turned toward the cave, her open hand gesturing to the fang-like rocks atop. “Once the illusion catches you, you'll forget everything else. Drinking, eating, sleeping... It'll give you what you want most, and that's a very hard temptation to resist.” As she motioned with one hand, she kept her other hidden in her sleeve, fingering something small and shiny. “Do you all think you have the strength to overcome it?”

Mickey thumped his fist to his chest, trying to ignore his earlier outbursts. “I know we have it! As long as we work together, there's nothing we can't do! Right, guys?” he turned around, expecting to see a sea of triumph, but his enthusiasm was quashed as he watched Minnie rant and rave in Donald's arms, Daisy arguing with Clarabelle and Horace about how much she really knew about this place – so she didn't know about any guide, what was the big deal? -  Panchito and Jose still trying to come up with a plan for Donald's happiness and just up and ignoring everything else, and Goofy had somehow tripped while standing up. “... Uh. We're usually better than this. It's an off day.”

More importantly, Mickey faced Lotus Blossom again, hands on his hips. “Well, I still trust them, but what about you? Are you really on the up and up?” The sting of her deceit still burned, even if ultimately she had been a good lesson for him about going head-first into trust and trouble. “How do we know you're not trying to pull another fast one on me?”

“What could I possibly do this time?” Lotus shrugged, still keeping her one hand hidden. “I'm outnumbered! Even if you go along with it, the rest will keep an eye on me so there's no way I could try anything. Can't a girl get a second chance?”

Mickey “hmm”ed about this for a moment longer, arms crossed and fingers strumming. Those were fair points, and wasn't Mickey the ultimate result of someone giving a criminal a second chance? In the end, they needed the map piece, and a guide would be better than having nothing. With a defeated sigh, he offered his hand to shake. “All right, but no funny tricks! We're here on very serious business! There's an item in the cave we need, and if you can help us get it, I'll forgive you for playing me last time.”

“Done deal,” Lotus Blossom chirped, taking Mickey's hand and shaking it... then yanking him down and kissed his nose. “There! Not quite what I wanted last time, but it'll do.”

Donald slapped his hand over Minnie's mouth to keep in her newest scream, though she was getting harder to hold. Daisy tittered. “I like this girl.”

“You would,” Horace huffed.

“Then let us be off!” Lotus announced, as Mickey quickly rubbed his nose clean. “Everyone stay together, and we'll make this trip as quick as possible! Follow me.” The group began to walk, with Minnie quickly breaking out of Donald's grip and making sure to keep Mickey away from Lotus Blossom. Panchito and Jose hung to the back, and while they hadn't said much to the group, that hadn't meant they weren't listening.

“My dearest and most darling Panchito,” Jose said, using his latest cigar to act as a torch. “I have a conundrum.”

“What puzzles you, and what can I do to help you most?” Panchito asked, moving his guitar onto his back.

“I wonder, you see, how Lotus Blossom knew that we were coming. She didn't seem surprised at all to see us. And to think she would have this exact job at this exact time at this exact location, that is a lot of coincidences piled up together.”

Panchito stroked his chin, now just as intrigued as Jose was. “It seems to me that whenever there are a lot of coincidences piled up together, there are no coincidences piled up at all. That would suggest something else is going on.”

“An excellent deduction! What could that something else be?”

“I have no idea. Isn't that fun?”

Clarabelle jabbed her thumb backwards, unable to hear the birds directly but knowing they were yammering about something or other. “What are those two going on about?”

“Probably how much they love each other,” Donald said with a shrug. “Or me. Or music. Or girls.” He didn't give it too much thought or worry.

As they entered the blackness of the cave, the group huddled together to make sure they wouldn't separate as it became difficult to see where they were going. Goofy linked arms with Horace and Clarabelle, as did Panchito with Jose, and Mickey with Minnie. Daisy felt Donald's arm begin to slink around hers and she violently pulled it back. “Hey!” Donald whispered, hoping it wouldn't turn into an echo across the cave. “I'm just trying to help!”

“I don't recall asking for your help,” Daisy replied snidely, rubbing her arms as the cave began to grow cold without the sun's natural warmth. “We went on about Mickey going into Hero Mode, but you have it just as bad.”

“What do you have against people being nice to you?” Donald growled, finding it harder to see Daisy's shape.

“Because when Nice People help Bad People, they get hurt, and I am a Bad Person. Flintheart should have taught you that first and foremost.” Now she was going too far, but she couldn't stop herself, not if Donald wouldn't learn. “You're nothing but a stupid, spoiled brat who has no idea how the real world works. You should do your family a favor and give up looking for them, because they're better off not finding you.” She drew a breath, stunned at her own words, and for the briefest pause in time, perhaps for the first time in her life, she considered actually apologizing. She hadn't meant it – she rarely meant most of her lies. She could hear the footsteps of everyone going forward, but Donald's had stopped.

Yell at me, she thought. Lose your temper again. Let it all out. Say you hate me. Say you never want to see me again. But Donald said nothing.

“Hey, look!” Mickey's cheerful voice loudly burst out, delighted at what he could finally see. “There's light!”

Just as Mickey said, in the distance there was a hue of rich blue, and as they approached it, they could see clumps of blue goop sticking to the walls and ceiling, surrounded by smaller wriggling blues. All of them glowed brilliantly, giving enough illumination to see their friends and their surroundings. Minnie held up her hand, watching the color on her fingers, amazed by such a sight. “What are these things? It's all so pretty!”

“I think these are glow-worms!” Goofy plucked one off the wall to see it for himself, letting it crawl around his knuckles. “Get enough of these little fellas together and they can light brighter than any torch! If the entire cave is like this, we'll have no problem findin' the next piece of the map.”

“Don't get ahead of yourself,” Lotus Blossom warned. “There's still one vital thing you all need to do if we want to go any further in the cave. I need all of you to understand how serious this. You have to do one big, important thing.”

As expected, now all eyes were on Lotus Blossom, with Mickey frowning. “Well, what is it?”

“Look here.” Lotus Blossom took out her hidden hand, and there was a bright, harsh flash -

Mickey rubbed his fists into eyes – that smarted! He was going to see spots for ages! “What was that for?” he asked aloud, already getting the sense something bad had happened. “Sheesh... this is no time for tricks, Lotus Blossom, we have to keep moving! Just remember everyone, we have to stick together, we cannot be separated!” He turned around to remind everyone of this -

And found himself all alone.

“Well..there's no way they can blame me for this one,” Mickey quietly said to himself.

[mnemehoshiko]

Star Wars: The Last Jedi [BULLETPOINT TRASH EDITION]

A  SPOILERS AND OPINIONS ABOUND AND POOR FORMATTING CHOICES

(with bonus citing of external canon sources mainly the visual dictionary leaks)

Short version: I FUCKING LOVED THIS MOVIE ON SO MANY LEVELS AND IASDFSDFDASFASDSFDSFDSFSSAFDSADFSDF

Long version:

I enjoyed TFA. But it was very much a safe remake movie because JJ can literally only do remakes and monster movies. I’m also still bitter over Into Darkness BUT THAT’S NOT WHAT YOU’RE HERE FOR SO I’M GONNA MOVE ON.

I really enjoyed Rogue One. It broke new ground etc etc but it had the freedom to do that because it wasn’t dependent on anything ultra important.

TLJ had the awkward positioning of figuring out how to move the main story forward in new and interesting ways AND not remake ESB. And I’m going to be super honest, I was 20% certain they were going to go Rey Skywalker??? Mainly because fanboys are amazingly uncreative but also because it would be a very safe way to go. Ohhhhh, of course Rey has the force. It’s because she’s of the Skywalker bloodline. ALL MAKES SENSE IN THE WORLD AGAIN.

As soon as Luke tossed that saber off the cliff, I knew that all my expectations were going to be subverted. AND IT WAS AMAZING!!!!

AND ON THE TOPIC OF LUKE, there seems to be two camps the

HELL YEAH LUKE SKYWALKER camp or the

OMG RIAN YOU RUINED STAR WARS AND LUKE ANDFS@#EWREWRWE camp, to which I’m like

so like did you watch the Original Trilogy my dudes?

No really did you watch the “OMG SHE’S PRETTY WE TOTALLY NEED TO RESCUE HER!!”

the “WELP BRB HEADING TO DAGOBAH WITH NO WARNING BECAUSE REASONS!!!!”

“NO WAIT MY FRIENDS NEED MY HELP SORRY GOTTA GO”

“BRB I JUST GOT MY WORLD VIEW TRAUMATIZED AND I NEED TO FALL IN THE ABYSS LIKE AN EXTRA (TM) BITCH”

“OH HEY I’M GONNA FIGHT MY DAD IN SPITE OF THE FACT THAT I HAVE NO TRAINING WHATSOEVER BECAUSE YOLOOOOOOOOO”

like Luke Skywalker lives on impulse 

much like his father

like according to the visual dictionary, Leia was supposed to be his first student and she like said no due to like politics and family stuff

but lbr she probably looked at Luke YOLO Skywalker and was like....yeah no my dude you are a messssss

never be the first grad student

also like IF REYSKY was a thing

you’re basically saying 

YES I WANT MY HERO LUKE SKYWALKER

TO DROP A KID OF A SANDY WASTELAND THAT EVEN HE BELIEVES IS NOWHERE

which like my dude, he’s from Tatooine and if he’s saying Jakku is nowhere. then like that place is like purgatory

like I STRONGLY BELIEVE if like Rey was his kid he AT LEAST would have dropped her 

somewhere with reliable foster parents

and like water

LOTS OF WATER

OKAY I’M DONE RANTING ABOUT THIS

ANYWAY like I can totally believe with like Luke seeing the #darkness + probably Snoke’s influence in his head his immediate response was OMG WE GOTTA KILL IT and then went...oh wait this....is not a chill idea maybe we should talk shit out first/meditate etc

and like IMMEDIATE REGRET AFTERWARDS

honestly this is like textbook Male Skywalker bullshit 101

I HAVE DONE A THING!!!  i regret everything now

THIS IS A HORRIBLE SEGUE BUT I WANT TO TALK ABOUT MY AVENGING SPACE ANGEL LEIA ORGANA!!!!!

*CRIES A LOT*

RIAN JUST LOVES LEIA AND CARRIE SO MUCH

*UGLY SOBBING*

LEIA USED THE FORCE MOTHERFUCKERS!!!!

EAT IT FANBOYS!!!

FUCKING IT!!!

LIKE I KNEW BUT LIKE PURE PROOF IN FUCKING CANON

LEIA! IS! FUCKING! FORCE! SENSITIVE!!!!!

also i’m 99% certain Luke didn’t teach it her that trick so like my homegirl literally DID THAT

i just love leia so fukcing much and yes okay the cgi was kind of wonky BUT I DON’T GIVE A FUCK BECAUSE MY GENEARAL/PRINCESS JUST USED THE FORCE LIKE A BOSS THAT SHE IS

Also i just love Leia so much in this

like That Shot on Crait with her eyes over the collar is like 

POETIC CINEMA

no really someone hook a girl up and give me that shot as a lock screen

Also that scene post mutiny showing up in a 3000-thread count couture bathrobe, a matching cane, and blaster? #AESTHETIC

also personal opinion but Billie Lourd in that scene wasn’t acting as much as oh god i’m in trouble face that all children go through

**MORE UGLY SOBBING*

OKAY LETS TALK ABOUT POE ONLY BECAUSE IT’S MY BLOG AND I DO WANT I WANT

*steps on step stool*

I DID NOT CARE ABOUT POE DAMERON IN TFA BECAUSE IT WAS SUPER OBVIOUS THAT HE WAS GOING TO DIE AND ONLY GOT TO LIVE BECAUSE OSCAR ASKED JJ TO LIVE AND OSCAR ISAAC IS PRETTY BUT LIKE THAT’S ALL I GOT OUT OF THE MOVIE.

*climbs off soapbox* Poe in this film GAINED SOME DEPTH, sadly it seems to be very polarizing and I think that’s in part due to the fact that it’s pulling on backstory from the EU, primarily Shattered Empire and the Poe Dameron Comics. Shattered Empire doesn’t directly include Poe but it involves his parents, Shara Bey and Kes Dameron. His mom, Shara, went on a mission with Leia and some others for some reason I can’t remember BUT ANYWAY SHE’S A BOSS. A HERO OF THE REBELLION. Poe literally grew up around heroes. One of his squad mates in Poe Dameron is another hero from the rebellion. He has a very wide-eyed view on the concept of heroism? For him it’s daring deeds and important war-changing missions, he’s very much a soldier and not at a leader. At least not yet. You get this immediately from the fight scene with First Order and the bombing run and the aftermath of it. 

Poe sees what’s in front of him which is a destroyed Star Destroyer (?), Leia sees the whole picture which is a single ship destroyed at the cost of a significant part of their fleet. Yes, there were heroes but a resistance can’t survive on dead heroes.

You see this again in his willingness to go after the high-risk plan to somehow hack the main ship to get them to stop tracking them. He’s thinking YES THIS IS THE BOLD PLAN MISSION OF MY DREAMS!!! Except it fails, and yes I completely understand that this could have been avoid with like communication but to embark on communication? You need to let go of your ego. Ego is not a BAD THING, but sometimes it can prevent us from being our best self. The best leader we can be. And Poe does learn this as you can see with Leia passing the baton of leadership to Poe on Crait. As Poe realizes that a dramatic last stand isn’t worth the loss. It’s better to run to let the rebellion live than to die in a burst of glory. Those are the hard choices a leader has to make.

OKAY MOVING ON BECAUSE I SUCK AT TRANSITIONS, LETS TALK ABOUT ONE OF MY SONS, FINN TICO

I LOVE MY SON AND HIS TRANSITION FROM BEING A MERE FIRST ORDER DEFECTOR TO A MEMBER OF THE REBELLION !!!!!!! First I loved the fact that his characterization followed naturally from TFA which TO RECAP consisted of:

 realizing that the First Order is a horrible idea; 

getting the fuck out via some convenient pilot dude who (supposedly) dies; 

meeting a girl who STRAIGHT UP ATTACKS HIM under the hearsay of a droid

realizing she’s the BEST THING SINCE TROOPER RATIONS and attempting to flirt because running away from a organization is best done in at least a pair

getting caught up in Resistance nonsense you are 1000% Not Here for because YOU KNOW THE FIRST ORDER and you know losing odds

aforementioned Girl is taken by the First Order and you’re like WELP GUESS I GOTTA TEMPORARILY JOIN this horrible idea to save girl

Tries to save girl but gets knocked out

END OF MOVIE

TLJ PICKS UP immediately after this in which his first and only thought is FIND REY AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF THIS NONSENSE. THIS IS NOT WORTH DYING FOR Y’ALL ARE CRAZY. Which lets be real, you’re dealing with an organization.....that can destroy an entire space system that you have personal experience with. You’ve just been attacked by the First Order, the Resistance is worse off than they were BEFORE YOU WENT TO (attempt) SAVE REY. Finn’s main priority is WELP THIS IS A LOSING CAUSE GONNA GET MY FRIEND AND BOUNCE BECAUSE I DON’T WANT HER TO DIE.

Then it hit’s him like a shock. Figuratively and literally because Rose shows up.

BEFORE I TALK ABOUT ROSE I HAVE TO TALK ABOUT PAIGE ALSO KNOWN AS i was pretty sure she was gonna die but it felt natural-ish and I also know need to buy Cobalt Squadron for like TICO SISTER FEELS. But during that bombing run you immediately got the sense of

what she was doing was already extremely risky

YOU’RE IN SHIP FULL OF BOMBS

and that her last moments were of someone incredibly important to her

and like eventually TO ALL OF US AND MEEEE

I’m going to be honest and say that this plot was probably the weakest for the audience and for me. I understood what they were trying to cover but I feel some sections got cut for the final version.

BUT BACK TO CHARACTERS, FINN!!!!

had to deal with the struggle of moving past Rey as his sole guiding focus of his story?

Also people are like OMG WHY IS HE SO WIDE EYED ON CANTO BIGHT?!?! THAT’S OOC!!!

and i’m like my dudes

he’s never been outside of the pod of stormtroopers like EVER

HE’S FROM A LIFE OF MONOCHROME AND NOW INFUSED IN A LIFE OF COLOR

Finn: OMG THIS PLACE IS AWESOME Rose: this place is trash and I’m gonna fight it

Also can I give a shout out to that section where he’s explaining the plan to Poe and like Rose is like AHEM I’M HAPPY TO HAVE A FELLOW NERD BUT ALSO I CAN TALK!!!!

Poe on the otherhand is like....ah yes...cute nerds are talking....OH WE CAN BLOW SOMETHING UP FOR FREEDOM!!! YES SOUNDS GREAT!!!

Also his interactions with DJ are essentially him seeing a potential future for himself

and like trash meta moment, unlike Kylo “I Make Poor Life Choices” Ren, he makes the decision to reject that future for himself.

Like Finn’s arc in this movie I would argue is to stop being a passive observer in the narrative and to start CLAIMING his space in the narrative that is Star Wars

like FANON!Finn is very much the Resistance automatically accepting him and him become The Dude in The Resistance

this movie ACTUALLY DID THE CHARACTER WORK for him to become a leader in the Resistance

Look I really love Finn and he finally got the character development he deservessssss

MOVING ON TO MY NEWEST DAUGHTER!!!!

ROSE!!! TICO!!! BEST DAUGHTER!! GOOD DAUGHTER!!! MY SMOL ENGINEER!!

Okay, first off. I will like forever and ever be thankful to Rian for casting Kelly Marie Tran SO JOT THAT SHIT DOWN

BUT MNEME SHE ABUSED--

finish that sentence and i will unhinge my maw to consume your filthy soul

AHEM, I mean you’re entitled to your opinions

which are wrong

SERIOUSLY THO, every time someone goes “Rose straight-up shocked a black boy till he passed out!!!!!” I’m like

okay one, he’s canonically 23 years  old

like as a black woman and one with a little brother I’m very cognizant of the impact of black violence in media and the constant view of black boys as adults

but also HE’S 23

two, Rey straight up clobbered him under the hearsay of BB-8 saying that “oh that dude has my dad’s jacket” compared to Rose catching him escaping via escape pods after catching 2/3 people doing the same thing earlier that day + losing her only living family

like if this is the hill you want to die on!?!?!?!?

I JUST REALLY ROSE BECAUSE SHE’S THE ENGINEER TAKE NO SHIT DISNEY PRINCESS OF MY COLD DEAD HEART SPACE

I just she’s so quick and smart but  get put into the ANTI-SOCIAL ASSHOLE BOX???

like yes she’s very good and detailed at her job

She also wants to fight everyone

like if i wrote an academia au (but Mneme you do---) she would be like the HELLO CLASS THIS IS OUR EXAM ALSO BONUS POINTS IF YOU GO ON A FIELD TRIP WITH ME ^_^

Student: Dr. Tico, that field is a protest.

Dr. Tico: I HAVE SIGNS AND HANDCUFFS!!!!

I just really loved her arc on Canto Bight and her care for the little people and also the emphasis it’s not the wide dramatic actions that make the resistance but the people that make it thrive.

“We win by saving what we love.”

Mneme that kiss was sexless--

THE GIRL JUST KNOCKED A SHIP OUT OF THE WAY OF A CANNON, GIVE THE GIRL A BREAK

She’s be more than down to climb him like a tree later.

OKAY WHILE WE’RE STILL DEALING WITH THE RESISTANCE

I UNDERSTAND WHY ADMIRAL AMILYN HOLDO DIED AND THE SHOT WAS BEAUTIFUL AND ELEGANT AND JUST 

#POETIC CINEMA

but also *UGLY SOBBING*

so like yes I understand that this probably could have been solved via OPEN COMMUNICATION but

Poe has literally just been demoted for flyboy antics

Poe initial interaction with Admiral Holdo consists of “soooo do you understand the situation” in front of a bunch of upper level brass

like maybe if he was like HEY HOW CAN I HELP it would have been better but he literally goes

HI ADMIRAL PLEASE LET EXPLAIN YOUR JOB AFTER I JUST MANAGED TO GET A HUGE CHUNK OF THE FLEET DEMOLISHED

cue Oscar Isaac’s prettiness

so like I understand but also I DISAGREE

also when Amilyn talks to Leia when Poe is like being carted onto the transport saying “I like him!” I’m 99% certain it was implied that she was also down to bang

actually knowing what I know from Leia, Princess of Alderaan

she’s TOTALLY DOWN TO BANG

OKAY LETS FINISH UP THIS NONSENSE WITH REMAINING TWO CHARAS ALSO KNOWN AS THIS IS A BIASED REVIEW AND IF YOU DON’T CARE ABOUT YOU-KNOW-WHO YOU CAN LIKE STOP HERE AND GO

......

.....

....

*looks around* okay they’re gone?

*TAKES  OUT MIC*

FIRST THING FIRST, I HAVE BEEN REY NO ONE SINCE FOREVER AND NOW I AM VALIDATED AND IT FEELS SO GOOD~~~~

It also follows from what Maz said in TFA, “you know they aren’t coming back.” This movie is Rey coming to terms with the failure that her parents inflicted on her, abandonment, and realizing that she doesn’t need some grand legacy to save the galaxy. Being herself is enough, and that’s so so beautiful to meeeeeeeeeeeeee. *weeps*

#POETIC CINEMA

SECOND, KYLO’S ARC WAS GEARED TOWARDS MEEEEEE!!! THANK YOU FOR VALIDATING ALL THE CHARACTER SHIT I HAVE BEEN SAYING ABOUT KYLO REN SINCE TFA THAT I THOUGHT WAS FUCKING OBVIOUS!!!!!!

Them: KYLE RON WAS TOTALLY DOWN TO KILL HAN AND UNREMORSEFUL. Me: ???? did we watch the same movie??

did you like look at the lighting in that scene???

the facial expressions??

LITERALLY EVERYTHING BEFORE THAT SCENE ABOUT BEING SEDUCED BY THE LIGHT?!!?!?

Kylo himself in TLJ: i didn’t hate him

THIS CONFLICT, THIS UNBALANCEDNESS CONTINUES THROUGH OUT THE FILM!?!? Also, I’m going to be hella honest 

pre-TLJ: Renperor is such a horrible trope because Kylo Ren is a disaster human being who has no business and no interest (see Bloodline) in ruling??? LIKE YOU ARE ASSIGNING COMPETENCE TO MY SON WHERE THERE IS NONE

post-TLJ: alright, I can Work With This and I’m 99% certain he is going to be ousted because the FO is like who is this human disaster with the political savvy of a blunt post 

like any credibility was lost as soon as he decided to have force tantrum when Luke showed up

and the SHOOT THAT SHIP OUT OF THE SKY!!!! moment

like my son leads wears his trash heart on his sleeve and EVERYONE KNOWS IT

honestly the fact that he managed to lie about killing Snoke is a miracle

but this CANON!renperor 

this Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, which i am like laugh my ass of over, is not some triumphant Dark Fuck Prince??

He’s broken man who has thrown so so much into rejecting the light, becoming the monster that his uncle he feared he would become and realized that he done fucked up. 

He tells Rey, Let the past die, kill it if you have to.

LITERALLY CANNOT LET THE PAST DIE

does copy his namesakes dramatic robe dropping so like there’s that

Also pre-TLJ: meh there’s a 50/50 chance he’s a virgin but lol it will never but touched on in canon

Post-TLJ: oh god he’s a virgin i will fight you on thissss

AND NOW BECAUSE I AM THAT PERSON REY AND KYLO’S OVERLAPPING ARCS

*SCREAMS* FORCE BOND FORCE BOND FORCE BOND

oh did i mention FORCE BOND!?!?!?!?!

Okay yes Snoke helped it along but like THAT LAST SCENE WITH THE DICE AND KYLO LOOKING UP AND SEEING REY

Snoke is dead bitches

what is it

it’s the Force

it was so good to meee

Honestly that face was peak “I’m disappointed but not surprised, I left all your shit on the porch. *SLAMS DOOR IN FACE*”

Like THE INTIMACY OF THOSE FORCE BOND SCENES

and like the evolution and like ASDFDSFSDAFDS

this was so good to me y’all

so good

no really i like never rec meta but like this *kisses fingers* http://corseque.tumblr.com/post/168629533017 good shit 

THAT REGENCY TRASH PROPOSAL OF FAILURE

so good

so awful

congrats Kylo, you’ve surpassed your granddad in poor wooing skills

Like literally I can see Anakin standing next to him Force Ghost!Stylez and is just like appalled

so appalled

okay i’m done I’m going to think about star wars and start throwing all my money at the EU YET AGAIN

[woohooligancomics]

A Personal Racism Issue. Can I Get Your Advice?

I'm at a bit of a loss... so I'm hoping some of you hooligans might be able to help me out. This weekend I'm tabling a gaming convention with a friend of mine (and I'll leave his name out here for reasons that will be apparent -- I'll call him X). Admittedly, I'm a comedian and a cartoonist, so a gaming convention is slightly off-brand, but I'm hoping there will be a good cross-section of people who also enjoy comedy, and at the end of Friday I've already collected 5 new subscribers to our newsletter, the Woohooligan Weekly Dick Joke Advocate.

This came about when I got an unexpected call from X about a month before the event and he mentioned in passing that he'd already booked a table for this event. I offered to share the booth with him, because I want to attend more cons and I thought I could handle the 5hr drive. I've tabled about a half-dozen cons so far, this would be his first. And although he's a relatively new friend (a year?), I didn't have the impression he was racist -- at least not overtly or knowingly so... I wouldn't associate myself with anyone who identified as "Alt-Right", I think that should be apparent from my work, of which X is aware. Dunking on these racists was part of all three of my most recent YouTube videos, and a comic I published in 2016 which appears in my recent Woohooligan Vol 2 (page 29) that I now have on the table at the event thanks to our recent Kickstarter.

What I didn't realize until I arrived at the event, is that X is selling t-shirts labelled "Fantasy Lives Matter". There are about a dozen of them, roughly half of his t-shirt designs, so for example a picture of an orc with the text "Orc Lives Matter", another for Elf, Dwarf, etc. I hoped at first that it would go unnoticed as people often don't read the text and just check out the artwork. I've already noticed one girl at the table this morning was put off. She asked me, "are you a Black Lives Matter person or an all lives matter person"? To which I responded "black lives matter... I haven't had that specific conversation with X, though I suspect he's the same"...

Apparently I was wrong, which, I realize in retrospect is what I should have expected, because I think the majority of people would have picked up on the poor taste of trivializing serious problems faced by real people. I want to say I think most people would have picked up on that faster than I did actually, since I think I'd seen these graphics before (I mean, months ago), and it just hadn't clicked in my mind, despite all the work I've done.

I tried to have a brief conversation with X about it, which went nowhere good...

Me: Hey, X. This girl just left, put off by the FLM designs... she asked if I was BLM or ALM.

X: [rolls eyes] Yeah that was my dad's big problem too, thinking people would be offended, and if they are, fuck 'em. I'm saying "all lives matter", even fictional ones.

(That last sentence is a huge problem for me, for reasons I think should be obvious.)

Me: "All lives matter" is intended to shut down people trying to address serious problems.

X: People don't know how to address problems... and to be honest, some of those people running in with the police deserve what they're getting.

(We're way into not-okay territory here and I've invested a huge amount of time and a notable amount of money in this event, and knowing now that X apparently has difficulty staying awake while driving on the freeway, I'm also concerned about his safety if I decided to just leave suddenly... but at this moment I'm not ready to get into what seems like is likely to devolve into a screaming match in front of everyone at the con.)

Me: the BLM movement only exists because there's a huge amount of injustice built into the system. When everything else is held equal, a black person on average receives 2-3 times more jail time than a white person, and that should never happen.

(I don't have reference for that specific figure on-hand -- please check my work and leave a link if you have one, whether I remembered it correctly or not. Thank you.)

X: [basically murmurred agreement]

I don't want to make any excuses for his diminishing of real-world problems, I think it's bad... I'm conflicted about how to address this problem for myself... I plan to publish photos of myself at the con, and the signs for those designs will be in the background... do I black them out? If I do that, am I enabling him?

I don't *think* he realizes what the problem is... I don't *think* he's deliberately racist. On the way back to the house from the convention he offered to buy me dinner at a shawarma place (I'd never had it -- it was good -- it actually reminded me of some southern cafeterias, although the seasoning and the decoration were a little different.)

The waitresses wore hijabs and he was familiar them (had been there many times), and treated them nice enough... though I will say that some of the things he says seem fairly insensitive in a general sense. For example, he makes a lot of objectifying comments about women, including for example, one of the shawarma waitresses, "[damn she's hot]... and great tits". (Of course, he's only seen her breasts 100% covered -- not even cleavage -- so it's a little odd to me to hear someone be so overtly objectifying of someone who's entire outward image is one of "I am not here for you to ogle".) And the whole day at the con was similar -- frequent mentions of "she's smokin' hot" or "that red head" or "I've never wanted to give wood to an elf so bad", which I tried not to encourage. (I like porn too, but my interest in potential partners isn't based on their looks.)

These are things I hadn't noticed in previous phone or online conversations. So I'm a bit conflicted... He's open enough to be friendly with the shawarma waitresses... but he's also interested in them to the point of sexual interest in women who're being very careful to be NOT sexy. So how confrontational should I be about "fantasy lives matter"?

I don't plan to share a table with him again if he's going to continue promoting them... I would hope he would eventually figure out that the phrase is likely to reduce his sales, even when a person might agree with his sentiment, because they don't want to buy a shirt that's going to get them into verbal fisticuffs with people. But this being his first event, and saying that he's already plunked down $1400 into it, it seems to me unlikely that he'll learn that soon. Though in honesty, it always feels like cold comfort to me when someone is doing the right thing only because they realize some kind of financial reward for it.

So should just not sharing tables in the future be where I leave it? Is it okay to accept that, "he's not a deliberate racist, just kind of an insensitive jerk" and just limit my involvement? As an autistic person who knows what it's like to be ostracized for being unintentionally insensitive, am I being too harsh if I say I feel like this is too much? Does that make me a hypocrite? And what about the fact that there are now photos of me in the act of affiliating myself with the creator who promoted "fantasy lives matter"?

Regardless of how it may impact my image, I'm trying to figure out what course of action will produce the best results for everyone -- that hopefully anyone who can become a better person will, regardless of how it impacts my image. Obviously I always have to think about my image, we all do, but that's a secondary concern. I feel like I should be willing to sacrifice my image if the alternative is being hypocritical, cruel, or even just unwilling to evolve or better myself.

Thanks for reading and helping me with this. I appreciate any advice you have.

- Sam

(Now I need to get about 6 hours sleep, because I spent too long composing this blog and have to be up early for the event tomorrow. Thank god my diabetes didn't trash my energy today, and fingers crossed I have the same luck tomorrow.)

UPDATE 9/17/2018

Maybe I should have waited until the end of the event before writing this blog, but the subject distresses me and I wanted to talk about it sooner than later. At the end of Friday, neither X or I had sold anything at the event. Saturday morning, X printed off about 4 shirts as samples to lay on the front of the table (good marketing), to show people that, "hey these pictures on the poster in the back go on t-shirts". It worked and over Saturday and Sunday, he sold at least a half-dozen shirts, most of them "Fantasy Lives Matter" shirts. So while there are some people who are offended by them, there are apparently also a large number of people excited by them (I think exclusively white people that I saw, although most of the attendees looked pretty white to me as well). ::sigh::

Over the course of the event, 27 new people signed up for our Woohooligan Weekly Dick Joke Advocate mailing list. I know many of those people were either indifferent to the FLM shirts or some may have even been excited by them... but I have no idea how many people may have simply avoided conversation with me all-together because of them.

I still have no plans to share another table with X. It's weird to me, because he's really sensitive about other things, like he kept profusely apologizing for falling asleep in the car because he apparently suffers from pretty bad road hypnosis. He's made the hour drive before, but I was concerned about him making the drive after a full day manning the table at the con. Meanwhile I also discovered he's got a huge chip on his shoulder about (of all things) shaking hands.

X: I hate it. I don't like people touching me.

Me: You know people are about 30% more likely to buy from you right?

X: You may be right, but I don't care. It was originally a symbol of distrust. Do you know where it came from?

Me: Yeah, it was originally a way of showing that you weren't armed, but it's evolved into a symbol of trust.

X: It's evolbed into a bullshit thing we do for no goddamn reason!

So to recap: shaking hands is tragic evidence of the decline of civilization, while Black Lives Matter is deluded and don't know how to address problems, and "many of them deserve what they're getting anyway".

I just can't fathom how a person can have that set of priorities when they go out of their way to eat shawarma and so forth and don't appear to be outwardly racist in any other way that I can tell.

His FLM shirts outsold mine by a wide margin, and frankly I don't care... or rather, I find it disheartening... and I'm not about to deliberately associate my work with it in the future. All people need justice, and if you think it through, you should realize that "all lives matter" is the actual meaning of "black lives matter". Saying "all lives matter" as a response is like saying of the condition of slaves, "slave owners have problems, too!" It takes air away from the importance of addressing a great deal of injustice in our country and I don't want to contribute to trivializing that in any way. Even if I stood to gain financially from it, I wouldn't do it.

I'm still not sure what else to do, beyond just not sharing con tables with him again, and would still appreciate hearing any thoughts you have on it. Thanks.

- Sam

[lokgifsandmusings]

Definitive Ranking of Book 1 Episodes, #9/12

9. 1x06 And The Winner Is...

It’s the probending finals! That’s it. That’s literally it.

As I go through these metas, I’m constantly rethinking my rankings since the issues seem to crystallize. For instance, though I might have enjoyed “Skeletons in the Closet” over something like “A Leaf in the Wind” due to personal taste, my “Endgame” essay made it clear that many of the structural and thematic problems of the season were tied to the last few episodes. For that reason, I kind of expected “Turning the Tide” to be next, since it’s the episode where (by my own account) the ‘wheels came off’ the narrative.

There *is* a lot to tackle there, but “And The Winner Is...” was right next to it on my first pass-through list, and I simply couldn’t think of a way in which it’s better.

The best that can be said about 1x06 is that it’s not bad. It’s really not. It hedges on “fine” territory for most of the episode. At the same time, it’s unthinkable that this is *all* that happens in a full episode. We’ve had utterly *packed* 22 minutes before, like “Enemy At The Gates”. Here, it’s basically two things:

There’s a championship match & some team prep

Amon attacks after the match

Hell this could have easily been combined into one bullet point if I had been trying.

It’s not that focused episodes are necessarily a bad thing, either. “Operation Beifong” is easily one of my favorites, and that B-plot may as well not exist. But the main issue is that the driving tension of this episode, at least until the terrorist attack, is a rivalry match that was established the episode prior. And consisted entirely of one mean remark on the part of Tahno that was also vaguely suggestive. Like, I’m sorry to hear Bolin and Mako lost to them off-screen in the past, but Tahno literally had four lines that was just sort of, “You are losers.” Was anyone super gripped by this?

This is especially an issue given that it followed the episode of probending saturation. Again, probending is a successful tool to showcase Korra’s development in teamwork (remember her extreme isolation in the South Pole), and to also show what type of Avatar she is and what her mark is: she reconciles the old tried-and-true into the modern era with her own spin on it (airbending applied to pro sports). However, that use was kind of drained after “A Leaf in the Wind.” All we’re left with is watching yet another match, and worse still, this one is presented as if we should be really hanging on to find out the outcome.

Look, Tahno seems like an asshole. We also are primed on a cultural level to root for the underdogs by default, and of course we’d rather the team with the people we know and like at this point be the victors. It’s *fine*, but forgive me for not being invested. I do think Amon’s attack at the stadium was an effective venue, though for the life of me, I fail to see why it couldn’t have come at the end of 1x05. We didn’t need Amon’s warning, and I actually think a surprise would have been even better (and made more sense; but I’ll get to that). Plus, that would solve a lot of the issue of 1x05’s pacing. We didn’t need 3 random matches just like we didn’t need continual love triangle idiocy. “Let’s be friends” could have been easily established before the final match against Tahno, and then the episode would end with chaos erupting.

I’m dangerously close to fix-it fic, and I realize that. But I just don’t see this episode justifying itself as is. What is the value of having Tarrlok, Lin, and Tenzin debate how to handle an attack that was always going to happen? I mean, I’m usually all for this kind of granular detail, but there was no incentive or reward for the audience agreeing with anyone in it. Other than that, we had Korra and the Ferrets attacking pictures of Tahno and a match where the Wolfbats cheat (which wouldn’t have been hard to establish in half the time), before the attack itself.

For an episode that was supposed to set the tone of the rest of the season, it felt very much like spinning-wheels.

Alright, now the logical issues. Tarrlok, Lin, and Tenzin know this terrorist threat is there. The whole Council is united in closing down the arena (and are unmoved by Korra, Bolin, and Mako arguing for it to stay open because...they want it to) until Lin runs in and says they need to show city-wide strength and unity against the Equalists. This is a decent point, especially because it’s still unclear what percentage of nonbenders even support this cause. There’s no real debate that ensues, however, even though these are rather relevant topics to address.

Tarrlok agrees to this as long as Lin is the one to personally ensure responsibility for everyone’s safety. Which is just...this doesn’t make sense. It’s still the Council’s decision to go through with it, and it also seems bizarre that the only thing fueling Tarrlok’s decision was personal risk. He is legitimately committed to stopping the Equalists, and there’s no reason why the presence of police would alter his calculus about keeping the arena open very much. Plus, is he elected? What is his biggest fear, here?

The weirdest part to me, though, is why *wouldn’t* Lin’s police force already be assumed as protection? In fact, shouldn’t she have been in on this conversation from the get-go, since it’s literally about security, and even just Amon threatening to attack the place would trigger a very serious response on the part of the police department?

Maybe these are nitpicks, or maybe I’m just frustrated by the fact that Amon could have easily been stopped if they just positioned metalbenders and the entrance and searched everyone. I guess in fairness the gloves were new technology, and they were just assuming otherwise unarmed chiblockers would show up. But the Equalists Korra fought in 1x03 undercuts this assumption quite significantly since they were already using gas canisters and other sorts of weaponry. Hell, Bolin and Mako even dealt with a guy who had those shocker-sticks, which I have to assume they would have mentioned to someone. Since, you know, the people keeping Republic City safe are running around in metal suits?

I think the crux of it, at least for me, is that in our current world, if you’re going to show us the “governmental response” to a threatened terrorist attack, it deserves to be handled in a way that 1) makes sense and 2) actually tries to grapple with the balance of showing resilience/unity versus safety and the risks associated with both. I’m just not sure LoK was ever really the show that should have tried to handle this, and certainly not when our protagonist is arguing one side on the basis of her wanting to participate in a sporting event.

Which again, but a surprise attack could have resolved this issue.

There’s also a more general problem here, and that’s the Equalists and their very, very undefined support. We’re supposed to assume the majority of nonbenders are *not* Equalists, or at least, that’s what 1x08 implied with the police force inflicting harm (or almost doing so) on a vulnerable population. We see that Amon’s rallies are popular and people were generally supportive of vigilante justice being doled out against corrupt gang members (again, debending can kind of be thought of as disarmament, at least before Amon’s “cleansed of impurity” quasi-genocidal speech begins), but there’s a large difference between that and willingly hiding a glove in a bucket of popcorn and attacking the police with it.

We could think that most nonbenders do want *something* done about the inequality and the way benders are able to extort (also their taxation without representation, I guess), but is *this* really the message that’s going to get people on-board:

“Good morning, citizens of Republic City. This is Amon. I hope you all enjoyed last night's pro-bending match, because it will be the last. It's time for this city to stop worshiping bending athletes as if they were heroes. I am calling on the council to shut down the bending arena and cancel the finals, or else there will be severe consequences.”

If anything, this is the kind of shit that would bring people together to say “fuck those guys.” Amon was able to spin the Wolfbat’s win into some commentary that was probably relatively resonant, but again, it’s the premeditated nature of this that seems utterly unstrategic. Had the Council shut it down...where does he make his speech about taking Gotham back from the corrupt?

Actually, speaking of Bane, remember that time he interrupted a major sporting event? And told everyone to “Take control of your city. This...this is the instrument of your liberation! ...We come here not as conquerors, but as liberators, to return control of this city to the people.” And a big part of that working was the ELEMENT OF SURPRISE? And the fact that it was well-attended because people weren’t scared shitless? And the cops were on a false trail instead of having been given a heads up about an attack?

I don’t even know what point I’m making anymore. That Amon is a failed Bane? (Who’s really more like comic!Ra’s al Ghul, according to Griffin.) That Nolan pulled off this concept better than Bryke, though 1x06 aired like two months beforehand?

Really, what it boils down to is that it bothers me when it feels like things ~just happen~ to advance the plot. Amon’s threat was seeded before this episode, and an attack makes sense and ups the stakes. But the open Equalist revolution announcement shouldn’t have to rely on the idiocy of everyone else. Also, in 1x04 it was “too early” to take Korra’s bending since she’d be a martyr. But now two episodes later, probending athletes are a suitable target? Sure they cheated, but these aren’t exactly crime bosses or even someone like Tarrlok. They’re not martyrs? They had fans. Finding out Lance Armstrong had been juicing was really upsetting, but I doubt we’d be cheering at someone breaking his legs (and his off-race behavior makes Tahno look like a cinnamon roll).

Yes, probending represents the worshipping of a privilege. But that is a full stadium, no matter how you slice it.

Really, if we had any idea of the support the Equalists enjoyed, or perhaps a deeper look at the plight of the nonbender past phonograph destruction, I think this could have landed. That’s perhaps where the creative energy needed to go in the episode immediately preceding it, rather than romance, especially since the Bolin leg of the love trapezoid was not needed in any way. (Frankly neither was Asami as a device to hook up Makorra in the first place.) But without it, it just comes across as a little bit of an ass-pull. This is especially the case when the Wolfbats’ cheating wasn’t even hinted at before their match. Wouldn’t Bolin have known this and mentioned it to Korra?

That said, there are nice things about this episode, and I think this is where this book’s definitive rankings turn a corner. Because truly, I feel bad having almost nothing nice to say about the 3 previous episodes I’ve dug into.

For one, I love anything Linzin. I’m like, “oh yeah, you wreck that home, Lin!”, but they do give me significant feels, and I think it’s fantastic how they’re scripted. There’s obvious affection there, as well as hurt, and this kind of deeply-rooted inability to communicate entirely honestly. Lin’s “Like old times?” actually makes me make disgusting noises at my computer. Especially since she immediately walks it back. Remember how they probably dated for like a decade and a half?

STAHP IT!!

I think it’s kind of funny that Lin is accidentally an abysmal chief of police in the narrative. Like I said, stopping and searching everyone would have been the way to go, unless that happened and the popcorn was somehow overlooked. Still, her confidence and old tried-and-true methods did help frame the uprising in an effective way.

That’s the other thing: even with Amon’s announcing of it, the Equalists revealing themselves was awesome. The slow-motion worked effectively, along with Korra’s hazy vision, and the way that there were Equalists hiding in plain-sight within the audience. Their ascent to the airships was a little silly as a conclusion, but otherwise Amon’s message and the reveal of the electric glove worked well. Though one odd thing was that in absence of distributing these (I guess they didn’t want them to fall into bender hands?), it felt a little salespitchy. “And you too can ensure equality for only 9 yuans!”

(x)

The rooftop fight was a wonderful conclusion, especially since the episode ended on the somber note, with a pulled out shot of the destruction. Lin is the perfect action hero, and this also showcased Korra’s prowess, without completely breaking the narrative. She threw herself into the fight without thinking much, and ended up needing rescue, though not before reminding us of her amazing physicality.

The conclusion was good, it was just the path getting there was not particularly engaging. Which interestingly is the complete opposite of Book 1 as a whole. Still, it was the halfway chapter needed, and the surprise Equalist uprising in the stadium is iconic enough to be ripped off. If only the follow-through had been there.

#12 1x12 “Endgame”

#11 1x05 “The Spirit of Competition"

#10 1x11 “Skeletons in the Closet”

1x06 photo recap found here

Book 2 ranking/essays found here

Book 4 ranking/essays found here