#but i still cant deny all of the signs pointing towards there being some kind of intention 😔

[pinkeoni]

It’s always possible that they really did just forget Will’s birthday, human error happens all the time, but I will say that emphasizing Will’s birthday in a previous season -> writing the birthday out on the screen -> throwing in a few other lines about birthdays and forgetting them in the same season -> building an entire storyline in the same season around forgotten memories -> throwing in a scene about Will not remembering something from childhood very well -> Will’s birthday being forgotten becoming big on social media and the Duffers playing into it -> claiming that they were going to edit their show to change his birthday -> later stating on twitter that they will never edit their show -> continuing to bring it up + making a birthday post for Will on his birthday is a very very funny turn of events if the writers really did honestly just forget

[zuffer-weird-girl]

May i request for overhaul just being vulnerable because of the first time he felt "threatened" by somebody trying to steal angel away? And he feels really terrible about it? (Even if he took care of the issue...the person- already?) You may decline! Thankyou

He wasn't the best to be involved with.

Heck, he would be a hypocrite if he deny such a thing. He is arrogant, cold and capable of kill someone if they accidentaly bumo onto him. Not even mentioning the sociopath part of his persona.

Resume. He is a mess of a man. Sometimes he even question it if you were actually sane to still be with him. Say you loved him for who he is and stay by his side even on his worsts moments where he knows he is an absolute asshole if it let him.

He knew you deserved better. He knew it.... yet his selfishness was way bigger than his common sense; he didn't wanted to lose one of the only good things on his fucked up life.

He was too possesive.

Yet seing you there... smilling and actually laughing at that man's words and gestures made his stomach turn into a knot as he gripped on his glass a little bit tighter as he stared at the scene with nonchalant expression.

"Such a beautiful person like yourself involved with us? A bunch of yakusas? Pardon but I mistook you with actual royalty." The brunette haired man spoke as you giggled and waved him off.

"Please, this is beyond exaggerating sir!"

"I beg your kindness to call me Harishima. It would be a blessing to hear my name be spoken by such a sweet angel's voice."

Angel? Angel... that was his nickname for you. How dare he-

"Shit! You're okay Overhaul?" He heard Chrono's blvoice and he only let out a confused noise before looking at his own hand... despite the gloves on, that was sign of his blood dropping on the floor along with the remains of what used to be a glass.

He didn't even used his quirk to do that... impressive. His subconscious spoke louder this time.

He merely grabbed a napkin and started to wipe it off until he heard your voice. He stared down and found you with wide worried eyes directioners at his injury as his chest somehow fluttered in relief.

Your attention was on him. You carried about him.

"What happened?!" You took the napkin out of his hand and sweetly wipe while holding his hand on yours... many were shock that Overhaul didn't killed you right there for touching him without permission.

No. The man was staring down at you like it was not a big deal. Letting you treat his wound as you asked for anyone for some bandages.

The worry in your eyes were genuine... you didn't had the same look towards that filth.

"Kai I think we should go to-"

"Oh my." The man you were speaking to appeared and dares to put a hand on your shoulder "Mister we should get to the hospital. I can take both you and this lovely friend of yours there by my car."

"Would you really do that?" You asked in astonishement and relief as the man nodded with a smile.

His eye twitched at the sign. Snatching his hand back he took off his gloves and let it fall to the ground as he used hsi quirk on his own hand. Poker face present with a tinge of hate and wish to kill as he stared Harishima on the eyes.

"As you can see-" his hand returned back to normal "I dont need this stupid charity of yours. And I command you to stop this disgusting flirting on my partner. Unless of course you dont treasure your life this much." He narrowed his eyes at the quivering man before telling you to follow him since he was done of this reunion.

You looked at Hari whose shrugged before quickly apologizing to Harishima and going after your fuming boyfriend.

He could hear your footsteps after him but he didn't even dared to look behind his shoulder or to even spoke one single word. On the car it held such a tension atmosphere that could be snapped by a freacking needle.

Now, back to the safety of you guys shared room, you looked at your boyfriend changing out of his clothes before gulping and have thhe courage to speak.

"I thought we were suppose to get out of there at 10? Is still barely 9 p.m Kai..."

He stop mid track on folding his shirt. Golden eyes looking slowly at your figurine before they retreated, as well as his actions of searching something to wear at night after taking a shower.

"If you wished to pass time with that filth then you should had at least said on my face."

The time your ears got his sentence you widened your eyes and stared at him for solid minutes in shock as he refused to lock gazes once again.

"What are you... talking about?" You giggled "Wait... no. Kai you were-! Oh!!!" your giggles got into a point you were laughing, back on the bed as Chisaki arched one eyebrow up as one of his eye also twitched in anger.

Making fun of him after what happened. You were lucky enough he treasured you or else you would be around on all room and being cleaned out of it by Chronostasis.

"Quiet." He commanded and you only laughed harder, giggling when he grabbed on your shoulder and forced you to look at the murderous glare he had on his face as you smirked up at him.

"You were jealous of Harishim-"

"Spoke his entire name. Go on." He narrowed his eyes down at you and clenched his grip on warning "I dare you to do it."

Smilling up at him you giggled one last time.

"I lost count of how many times you got jealous hun." You giggled more before you stopped when he let your shoulder go, turning his back to you "Kai..?"

"... you know dearest. That... you're free to go. There's no need to remain here against your own will." That was the last thing he said before getting inside the shower, leaving you at the point of your heart to burst out of your chest.

What was he talking about?

After some torturing minutes he got out of the shower and widened his eyes at seing you, boucing your leg still waiting for him but soon they got back to normal.

"I thought you would be gone by now." He spoke nonchantly as you hesitantly looked up at him.

"Do you want me to?" His heart did a weird thing, but it seemed like it had contracted at seing your worry and how afraid you seemed to be.

"If it is against your own will and you're lying then yes." He said in the most cold tone of voice possible until you got up to look up at him, inches apart from his body.

"Why would I pretend something like that? We both know I cant even hide you that I ate a candy bar without you looking!"

"... what I am saying is..." he sighed, his pride not even allowing him to look at your eyes "I don't think I am the most suitable person to you. After all you're just so... pure."

You blinked up at him in surprise and shock... he wasn't only jealous this time, but insecure. Heavens, when was the time you ever saw your Chisaki Kai, OVERHAUL, insecure?!

"This is new..." you mumbled, finally catching his attention enough for him to look at you "Kai, you treat me well enough. Jesus you spoil me rootless since I almost beg you to not do it!"

"Is not a matter of money. Is a matter of treatment. I should at least... give enough of affection for you to not go to other males seeking for such things." He looked away, scratching the back of his neck until he let out a gasp at you hugging him tightly.

"You idiot." He narrowed his gaze at you who had your head on his chest "I couldn't ever seek attention from other guys since I have you. Germophobic and all of your package." You looked up at him as he stood with his arms out awkwardly.

"Yet you seemed quite fond of that sick-"

"Is a matter of good education. I dont even know if you noticed but everytime he tried touching me I brushed off. Just at that time when he was suggesting to take you on a hospital!"

His gaze slowly softened.

"You are the only one for my eyes dammit! I love you for you Chisaki! Sure, our affectionate touches might be rare but that's what make it so special... and you're getting better on your mysophobia! Geez last time there was a dirt on the floor instead of wanting to kill someone you went there and clean it yourself!"

"That was simply because no one else can clean something properly." He brushed it off as you again rested your head on his chest with a sigh.

"Trust me at least once Kai..." you mumbled until you gasped when you felt him hugging you back slowly with one arm as the other was occupied on petting your head.

"I dont trust on others... thinking they can take what is mine away. The wish of killing them is huge, yet I cant deny that some of them could treat you at least better."

"That's not true idiot!" You gasped when he flipped your head and pouting up at him as he looked down at you with a soft look yet lips pressed onto a thin line as always.

"You are insufferable sometimes you know that." He sighed with closed yes, detaching his arms away from you.

"And you were jealous of me some hours ago." You smiled at him "tsking" at your words and then you peeked his cheek, making him gag and press his hand on the area where your lips met his skin.

"... go to sleep already will you." He said before muttering some excuse to leave as you giggled at his attitude.

He gave only a few minutes, enough for you to sleep as he come back to the bedroom and saw you on the bed... his mind told him something and his heart another.

He decided to be bold this time. Getting behind your back and slowly putting his arms at your waist and pulling you to his chest as he breathed in the scent of you and your hair had let out a quiet exhale.

"How did I of all people deserved someone so understanding as you..? My angel."

He would only do this when you werent conscious. This way you couldn't saw how much effect you had on the most fearful and dangerous villains of Japan. A gangster. A killer.

Yet you were there... as always.

Hee could only promise he would try to be a better man, give a world cured off the diseaces for you to live.... After all, that was the minimun he could do after what you did and still do for him.

Poor man doesn't even know you were awake the whole time. He was about to live hell tommorow.

[zmayadw]

Evening to all :)

Time for the next part :)

Have a nice evening :)

CALL OF THE RAVEN

PART 10

I woke up with a terrible taste in my mouth. I had no clue what time was it, but the sun was out already, making me squint my eyes. I got in sitting position slowly, banging in my head intensifing with every move i made. Ugh, i'm never drinking again, i scolded myself. Squinting, I focused on the little alarm clock that was on the night stand. 10.34. Whoa, i cant remember the last time i slept this long. I got up from the bed and went to the bathroom. I filled the glass with wather, rinsing my mouth a few times before gulping down two glasses. My stomach growled at it, i just hoped not to throw up .Taking a shower would be a wise thing to do, so i just threw the clothes i had off and entered the shower. The warm water felt good, i just let it pour over me for a while. I wrapped myself in the towel taking some painkillers for the headache. Getting back to the room, i dressed up, and sat on the bed. I felt a bit better, but still not enough. Coffee, i tought, thats what i need now. I got up, going for the purse i threw on the floor when i got in, searching for my phone. Shit, i cursed, it wsnt there. I checked every pocket, even Jake's hoodie, but my phone was nowhere to be found. Crap, i probably left it at a the Aurora last night, when Jessy and me wer taking pictures. Or at lest i hoped so. Well, i was going for coffee, so i could stop at the Aurora eitherway. I grabbed my backpack with drawing stuff. Who knows, i might be up for some drawing, no matter I still felt woozy from last night drinking. I putted my sneakers on, grabed my stuff and car keys. Walking wasnt an option this time, i wasnt feeling well enough for it.

When i parked my car infront of the Aurora, I saw Dan's car was still there. I smiled as i left the car, guess i wasnt the only one sleeping late today. I hoped Phil was there already, and my phone too. I entered the Aurora, relieved at the sight of Phil behind the bar. I was washed with the smell of coffee, and as i neared the bar, I pleadingly said to him, sitting on the stool „Please, please, please, tell me i'm not wrong and that is coffee i can smell.“ Phil turned arround , not noticing me when i entered. He grinned at me „You are most definitly right! Would you like some?“ „Yes, pretty please.“ I said, as i putted my hand on the bar, and leaned my head on it as on a pillow. Phil chuckled at me „Want any sugar with it? Or milk?“ „Yes, please.“ I replied, and he vanished through the storage doors. He returned with a big cup of coffe putting it infront of me. I rised my head, took the cup, taking a deep breath of its smell, before taking a big sip of it. „Thanks, Phill, you're my saviour:“ i smiled at him as i settled it back on the bar. „Here to help.“ He said, winking. „Rough night?“ he asked teasingly. „Oh, i dont know how you can be so cheerful.“ I started „I feel like a truck hit me lastnight.“ He laughed „Practice to perfection.“ „I think i would need years of practice to be even close to that kind of perfection!“ i said, making a skeptical face. He smiled at me „So, to what do i owe the pleasure?“ he asked. „Dont get me wrong, im glad to see you“ he said, that devilish spark in his eyes again „But i doubt you came just to see me.“ „You caught me.“ I said, even tho it was nice seeing him. „I was hoping that i might have left my phone here yesterday.“ He shook his head at me, crouching down searchin for a few seconds under the bar, giving me my phone as he got up. „Better be carefull next time, good thing i noticed it as you left.“ „Yay, thanks Phil, again.“ I told him, giving him a big smile. „I owe you big time! Both for the phone, and coffee.“ His phone rang then „Sorry business calling. Be right back“ he said, answering his phone and going through the storage door. I checked my phone with him gone, finding out few missed calls and messages from Jessy. She was worried i havent answered her jet, so i decided to call her while waiting for Phil. The tone barely sugested it rang when Jessy's voice boomed from the other side. „Finaly! Do you know how worried i have been? Are you allright? Where wer you? Why didnt you answer me before?“ It made me smile a bit, her worrying for me like that was so sweet. „Im sooooo sorry Jessy“ i said pleadingly „I left my phone at Aurora last night, i just got here to get it.“ Phil returned at that point, and i mouthed to him 'Jessy's' name, indicating who i was talking to. Her voice boomed again, and i moved my phone a bit from my ear, wich made Phil laugh. „Ofcourse you did! Its no wonder after all the whiskey you had! Dan is still sleeping like a log! You two really had it last night!“ „Aww, Dont be cross, Jessy.“ I started pleadingly again „I promise next time we wont over do it.“ Phil was grining at me now, and i stuck my toung at him, trying to calm Jessy down. „C'mon, you cant tell me you didnt have some fun yesterday.“ I started „I have some pictures on my phone as a proof of it.“ Phil threw his thumb up, showing me i said a good thing, and i grined at him. „Alright, i admit last night wasnt all that bad.“ Jessy started, sounding calmer now „But you're still not off the hook completly.“ „Thanks, Jessy“ i started, grining as a sign of victory to Phil. „You can scold me some more at lunch, if the deal for it still stands.“  „Ofcourse!“ Jessy cined cheerfuly from the other side „Dan will be a sleep for God knows how long, and im already bored here.“ I quickly moved my phone from the ear checking the time. „Its 12.20 now, when do you want us to meet?“. „I'll meet you around 14 at the Aurora. I doubt Phil will mind you hanging there with him till then.“ She replied, teasing me. „Somehow i think you're right.“ I said, looking at Phil with a devilysh smile. „Cya later, Jessy.“ I sadi, lovering my phone. Phil looked at me,a bit confused „Wat was that about?“ „Oh, just Jessy being Jessy.“ I told him, grining. „Fine, fine, be all mysterious.“ He teased me. „Awww, c'mon, you wouldnt find me so interesting if i was an open book.“ I told him, smiling sheepeshly. He looked at me, with that intensifing look again, making me feel heat spreading through my body „You're not wrong about that.“ Crap, what are you doing again, Maya, i scolded myself. Phil was definatly into me, and i was toying with him like this. It really wasnt my intention, i didnt want him to get the wrong impression about anything. But it felt so easy for me, talking to Phil, compared to Jake. Why does all have to be so tough and complicated with him? It feels like walking on egg shells every time im with him: dont do this, dont say that. Shit, it shouldnt be that way, should it? Was i really that much into Jake? Blah, i dont know anything anymore. I wish he would be more open with me, it would make things so much easier. I was lost in my toughts when Phil finaly snaped me back to reality „Maya? You allright?“ I looked at him, shaking my head,  to clear it from all the 'Jake' toughts. „Yeah, sorry.“ I started „Guess the coffee didnt kick in properly yet.“ Phil looked at me, and i could see he didnt really belive what i told him, but decided not to take the matter any further „If you say so.“ Was all he said. I smiled shyly at him. „Do you mind if i just hang here for an hour or so, before metting with Jessy? I dont feel up to driving back to motel, and the coffee isnt bad here either.“ I tried, smiling, waving my empty cup at him. Phil looked at me, rising one of his eyebrows, and smiled devilishly „How could i say no to a beautifull woman?“ He took my cup, winked at me vanishing through the storage doors. I could feel my cheeks flushing again, and my heart beating faster. Shit, shit, shit..

When Phil came back with another full cup of coffee i asked if its ok if I sit at one of the booths, to wich he said  fine, since he did have some work to be done. I took my stuff and coffee setteling at the booth. I had a bit over an hour before metting with Jessy, i hoped some inspiration for work might come to me. I took my stuff out of the backpack, took my sneakers off, sitting with my feet up on the booths perch. I liked drawing like that. Leaning my drawing pad on my knees i tried to focus on my work, but my toughts just kept wondering off.  I tought about Phil, sneaking glances towards the bar. He was good looking, always nice to me, even tho everyone warned me that he was a 'no good' considering women. He never showed any sign of it towards me. He was easygoing, i enjoyed his company, we definatly clicked. Then there is Jake. I was definatly drawn to him, cant deny that. When im near him, it feels like when a moth is drawn towards fire. Cant fight it, its driving me crazy. But nothing with him is easy. Its like taking one step forward, then not one, or even two, but ten steps back. Its so frustrating. And with all that had happened, i feel like all the progres we had was completly gone. My head was still too woozy for thinking of stuff like this. I setteled my drawing stuff down, taking my coffee, leaning back in the booth. Maybe Jessy would have some advice fore me. Two heads are smarter then one, or so they say. But i should definatly talk to Phil, at least try to explain things to him. I dont want him thinking im giving him some false hope here. As if he could sense my toughts, he turned around, took his coffee and walked towards me. „Mind if i join you?“ he asked, and i smiled „Ofcourse i dont. I guess my inspiration is still sleeping, so no work to be done at the moment.“ He grined „Thats good for me. I can have the pleasure of your company for some more then.“ I chuckled at that, siping some more of the coffee. But i tought again about talking with him about everything.  My face must have gotten some serious expression, 'couse Phil looked at me a bit serious, before asking „Whats bothering you, Maya? I have a feeling you want to talk to me about something.“ I looked at him, those deep eyes of his gazing intensly at me, trying to dig up my toughts. „I do.“ I admitted after a moment „But to be hones, i dont know how to start .“ „Well, just do your best.“ He said, and i started to get the feeling of a knot at my stomach again. „Allright.“ I said, but the words didnt come easy after that. „I like you, Phill.“ I said finaly after a moment of silence. He chuckled „Ok, thats a good start.“ „Ah, but that was the easy part.“ I started „Now comes the tricky one.“ I could notice him tensing a bit, like he knew where this might lead to. „Ok, go on then.“ He said. „I enjoy your company, talking to you, its so easygoing. I feel we clicked, that theres some 'spark' between us, and i know you noticed the same.“  „You're right about that.“ He replied. „But..“ i started, and Phil interupted me, sighing „Ahh, there it is, the famous 'but' part.“ „Please, Phil, just let me say what i have, then you can hate me.“ He looked at me, his face getting a soft touch „I couldnt hate you, Maya.“ „Dont say it untill im not done talking.“ I said, a bit sadness creeping to my voice. „Alright. Please, continue.“ „Ok. As i started earlier,i like you, but i dont want to get your hopes up.“ I settled my coffe on the table, my hands fidgeting with the cup. Why was this so hard? „Shit, Phil, im a complete mess at the moment.“ I started „I myself dont know what i want, and its tearing me up inside. There is someone, and i dont know where I stand with him. And i dont want to start something new, if im not a 100% sure that its the right thing, that its something i really want. With no loose ends catching up on me.“ I looked up at Phil, him still not taking his eyes off me. „Am i making any sense to you here?“ i asked, lovering my head. I really didnt want to have this conversation, but that was me being honest. All of a sudden, i could feel Phil's hand covering mine, and i looked back up at him. He still had that softness written all over his face. „I appriciate your honesty, Maya.“ He started „Now let me be honest also.“ „Ofcourse“ i said „I expect nothing less.“ „Good.“ He looked at me more serious now. „You know i like you, you said it yourself. I dont know why, but i felt drawn to you the moment i saw you. Theres something in you that makes a man bedazled by you, i cant explain it differently.“ He paused for a moment before continuing. „And i get it, you dont want to get into something half hearted. And i applaud you for that. Because, if anything was to happen between us, i wouldnt want it that way either.“ He looked at me now, his gaze intensifing again, and i started to feel that heat again. „If it was to happen“ he continued „I would prefere if you wer in it with every inch of your body and soul.“ I was mesmerized by his words. He was so open with me, the words came so easy to him. Why cant it be like this with Jake. „Allrighty, that was pretty honest there.“ I said finaly, making an aqward smile. „You wanted me to be honest.“ He said, adding „And just so you know, im not going to make it easy for you.“ He looked at me now, with that devilish spark in his eyes again. I looked at him puzzled „What do you mean by it?“ He grined at me „Its like this: i will continue to act like i did so far, and you can do the same, cause, lets face it, we both like it.“ His grin widened, and i smiled back at him. „Good, you get me. But, until i get a confirmation from you about freely taking it a step further, i will do whatever i can to maybe, just maybe, help you feel a bit less messy and steer thigs in my favore.“ „And what if it wont end as you hope it would? Can you be ok with just being my friend?“ i asked him. He looked at me for a moment, before answering. „Honestly“ he started“i cant say i wouldnt be dissapointed, a little hearth broken probably, but i would respect your choice. And yes, Maya, if that would be so, i would gladly be just your friend.“ “Thanks, Phil, i appriciate all you said.“ I told him „I was kinda affraid of having this conversation with you.“ „You, affraid? I cant belive that“ he said, teasingly „Belive me, i was scared as hell.“ I said, adding to it „But im glad we had it. I didnt want it to become aqward between us at some point.“ „Not gonna happen.“ He said, winking at me. I smiled „Shit, you know, even thou i had enough yesterday, i could actualy use a drink right now.“ Phil lughed so hard „Awww, you really did get scared. We are in a bar afterall, you just say the words and ill bring you that drink.“ He said, looking at me with one raised eyebrow. „Only if you join me“ i said, grining at him „ And if you dont tell Jessy about it.“ He got up from the booth, smiling and winking before he left for the bar „Deal!“

[infernalrevenge]

Extra Ordinary

Fandom: Choices - Foreign Affairs

Pairing: F!Blaine Hayes x M!MC (Magnus Quezon)

Rating: G

Summary: Blaine and Magnus sneak off to a traveling fair.

Notes: Inspired by a message from @i-cant-think-of-a-name-15 wherein he told me I could write about "a purple panda visiting Vancross" and he'd still read about it, so I was minorly inspired. This is much longer than what I've written and posted here so far, so fair warning on that.

----------

"A fair?"

Magnus raised an eyebrow at Dionne, who clutched her phone as she showed him her text messages from Blaine.

"Yeah, she said she got tickets the other day, arranged for you two to go, and everything! It's only in town for a week, and tonight's the last night before they pack everything up the next day."

Before he could even object -- the thought of everyone still breathing down his neck about the scandal and cleaning up his image still weighing heavily on his mind -- she interrupted, "You don't have any classes tomorrow, you’re free, and you need the break! Plus it'll be so romantic, just you and Blaine--"

"And our bodyguards."

"--Having the time of your lives at a fair! Come on, it'll be fun, Magnus! Like you're gonna say no to her."

Okay, she's got him there.

It only took a little bit of pleading to get Tatum to agree to his antics this time, rolling his eyes as if he was used to it at that point. Nevertheless, he escorted the First Son to the pier where the fair grounds were, dressed as casually and inconspicuously as possible.

Magnus adjusted his sunglasses and beanie, glancing behind him to see if his bodyguard was right behind, only to find him gone. He did say he was just going to keep a "respectable distance", but it didn't make him any less nervous being out and about like this. It wasn't that he didn't trust his date to show up, it was that he was worried that she would and so would the paparazzi. They haven't exactly relented on their quest to squeeze out every juicy detail of his story.

He tried to scan the crowd for any sign of Blaine, only to be suddenly grabbed by the arm. He stumbled back in surprise, accidentally bumping into a mother with her kids. "Sorry sorry, I'm so sorry miss!" he quickly apologized, but the lady left in a huff, and he found himself face to face with none other than the mastermind of this operation.

"Geez, I forgot how you scared so easily. Sorry about that," Blaine remarked, clearly amused. Magnus could only roll his eyes, but was nonetheless relieved to find her -- or rather, have her find him.

He had to admire her insistence on the whole plan, and the fact that she had a plan in the first place. Of course, they couldn't get away from their bodyguards and had to effectively hide any prominent features of theirs to avoid being recognized, but hey, he would take any excuse to be with her.

"We've got a lot of ground to cover if we wanna make the most of this place," Blaine said. They made their way inside hand in hand.

"I'm starting to feel bad, leaving you with all the work of planning out covert dates. I should return the favor some time," Magnus said with a small laugh, taking in the sights and smells around him. The sun was beating down on every head present, hung up on a bright blue sky. It was quite crowded, which was a security concern, but it also meant it would be harder for untrained eyes to spot them in the sea of faces. Still, it had him a bit on edge.

"Looking forward to whatever you've got cooking up there, Rutherland. I'm sure you can think of something." Blaine looked up at the rides, the screams of its passengers intriguing her to give the experience a shot. It would also help to distract Magnus, as she noticed he was rather tense. "Where do you wanna go first?"

Magnus wasn't always the type to try to impress a date, but he might have been pushing it a little when he suggested an octopus ride. "I've never ridden one before. My mom always said they would break and the cart I'd be in would fly off."

It felt that way as soon as the ride started too. Magnus held onto the safety bar in front of them for dear life, his insides doing massive flips with every rotation. It was very thrilling, but it was also a strangely ticklish sensation that had him laughing and screaming the whole time. Blaine was having the time of her life, on the other hand, raising both arms in the air at multiple points as she whooped and jokingly yelled for it to go faster. Their excited screams blended in with the cacophony of the other riders, and somehow, that made the First Son feel the most normal he had since the day started.

If you were to ask him, Magnus would deny how his hands were shaking as they got off the ride, remnants of that thrill and momentary terror still running through his body. But it helped to have Blaine take both his hands and encouraged him to breathe deeply instead of the usual teasing he expected from her.

"Do you go on octopus rides often?" he asked, sucking in another breath before exhaling slowly.

"I'm actually more of a lazy river kind o' girl, but I love the adrenaline rush anyway," she casually replied, trying her best to ground him and calm his racing heart and stomach.

The two of them decided to eat some snacks as a substitute for lunch, settling for corn dogs, cotton candy, and watermelon slices. Along the way, Magnus spotted a giant panda stuffed toy in one of the game booths, its usual black patches replaced with a bright purple. Blaine followed his distracted gaze and giggled, trying to get his attention. “See something you like?”

The Rutherlandian chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I, uh... it’s a giant panda, kinda hard to miss.” He was trying his best not to seem too obvious about his curiosity and desire to have it. However, after passing by the same booth a few more times as they explored the grounds, with his attention inevitably drifting to the toy, Blaine took him there herself to see if she can win it for him.

“You don’t have to--”

“Just let me do this for you. Besides, not like you can keep your eyes off of it.”

A laugh escaped him, “Are you telling me you’re jealous of a stuffed toy panda now?”

“I’m literally gonna win it for you, Rutherland, I am the farthest from being jealous. I promise by the end of the night, you'll be one panda richer.”

Basketball was the name of the game -- all she had to do was sink three shots in a row through the hoop across. Simple enough, if only she weren’t so far away from behind the starting line. Every time she threw the ball and watched it soar through the air, it was always just a few feet shy of the goal. By the time Blaine was on her sixth total attempt, she was just slamming the cash on the counter in frustration to pay for more chances, which the manager gladly accepted each time.

Magnus tried to get her to stop, insisting that it was fine and she didn’t need to waste so much money on a game “that was clearly rigged anyway.”

“Hey, I promised I’d get you that, and goddammit you are gonna get it!” she stubbornly replied, setting down another two dollars. This time though, she took a pause to rest and re-think her strategy.

Blaine furrowed her eyebrows, her focus alternating between the ball and the hoop, until an idea struck her. A wide mischievous smirk appeared on her face as she pinned the ball under her arm and climbed onto the counter, much to everyone's surprise.

"Hey, you're not allowed up there, miss!" the man behind the stand yelled, holding a hand up. The Ardonian was undeterred.

"Why? I'm still behind the line," she pointed out.

"You could fall and get hurt, you have to--" Magnus started, but Blaine was already focused on her goal, ball in hand as she lifted it up.

The height certainly gave her an advantage, taking one successful shot after another, despite the manager's and Magnus' protests. Her date still hung back right behind her, arms slightly raised to ready himself just in case. If she was so insistent on doing things her way, hopefully it wouldn't end in a hospital visit. She would hear an occasional "be careful!" between shots, but when she finally got the last one she needed, she practically threw caution to the wind after the ball.

“Victory is mine, asshole!” she yelled in triumph, throwing her arms up in the air in celebration.

She didn't anticipate how the momentum would throw her off balance though, misstepping behind her. She yelped and tried to move forward, but it was too late. One second she was falling back toward the ground, then the next... she was in Magnus' arms.

She looked up at him and laughed, "Good catch. You work out?" she commented with a wink, letting him help her stand back up.

"Let's just say you can always trust me to catch you," he replied with a hint of a flirtatious tone, before nudging her with his elbow. "But never do that again," he warned, though he was clearly just worried about her.

The Ardonian flipped her hair over her shoulder, turning her attention to the manager. "One panda, my good sir!"

He begrudgingly handed over the stuffed toy to Blaine, who then proceeded to proudly present it to Magnus. He had to wrap both arms around its fluffy torso just to be able to hold onto it securely.

"Consider this my apology for worrying you," she joked, patting the toy's fluffy arm.

"This feels a bit cliche, doesn't it?" he said, his voice partially muffled by the huge obstruction between them.

"What do you mean? It's a role reversal. It's the guy usually winning prizes for the girl, right?"

"I just mean the situation in general. Do you always win giant pandas for your dates?"

"Only for you, babe. Though I'll happily take it back if you don't want it."

At that, Magnus turned and kept it away from Blaine when she tried to reach for it. "No, you already gave it to me, so keepsies." He stuck his tongue out at her, looking more childish than ever, which earned him a boop on the nose.

"One more ride for the road?"

It was already sunset by the time they got on the ferris wheel. The sky was a gradient of pink, orange, and yellow as the sun started to set, slowly sinking in the horizon where the sky met the sea. It took some convincing for the ride manager to allow the stuffed toy on board, as long as they didn't drop it -- like Magnus was ever going to let that happen.

The newly christened Taro (as Magnus insisted on calling the panda) sat on his side, with Blaine snuggled on the other, her head settled on his shoulder. The ride moved slowly as other passengers boarded, and they were getting close to the top, just enough to enjoy the view.

"I know the rooftops at Vancross had great views of sunsets, but nothing beats being this close to it, huh?" Blaine said, her fingers idly playing with Magnus', intertwining and untwining them.

"Being in great company helps me appreciate it more too," Magnus replied, before turning to the stuffed toy next to him, sitting at eye level given its size. "Isn't that right, Taro?"

"Sorry, am I ruining your moment here?" she joked, gently nudging at his arm. Magnus simply smiled and wrapped an around her shoulders, pulling her even closer to his side.

"But seriously though, today was really fun. I'm glad you convinced Dionne to convince me to come out here. At this point, it's hard to say no to even just seeing you."

"Even if it means infuriating your bodyguard?"

Magnus rolled his eyes, looking off as the sky started to darken. "He wasn't infuriated, I'd say irritated at best, but he gets it. He's always been supportive of my 'be a normal person' agenda."

"Did I help deliver?"

"Oh definitely. You sure know how to make a guy feel normal, in a good way."

Blaine glanced up at him, "What does being normal mean to you?"

The young man blinked, not expecting such an introspective question. The lights on the ferris wheel started to turn on, giving him a view of Blaine under their soft glow. He almost lost himself in the sight and backtracked on the question.

He gave himself a moment to think, choosing his words carefully, "Just... being able to live my life away from scrutinizing eyes, I guess. I don't want the public to see me as someone or something that I'm not just because some tabloid article told them this or that."

She nodded in understanding, pulling his arm closer. "Definitely. It's like the general population seems to forget we're people too. We have our own lives and identities, and it's not something that can be toyed with."

"I wish I didn't have to act a certain way, I don't want them to change me. I wish... things were different." A bout of silence passed between them, the ride moving at its leisurely pace to give its passengers time to appreciate it.

"But if they were, then I never would've met you, so it's not all bad. You're... one of the best things that's ever happened to me, you know?" Magnus looked at Blaine, a small yet genuine smile on his face. The girl looked up at him almost with a flicker of doubt at first, but looking deeper into his eyes, she knew he was telling the truth.

And she wasn't sure how to handle that.

She could feel her stomach doing flips, a thrill running through her -- except it wasn't like she was on a fair ride. This was somehow more intense, yet she felt grounded with him by her side. She couldn't help the smile that bloomed, her cheeks darkening slightly as she took in his words.

"You're too good, Magnus. I hope the world never changes you."

The way she said his name sounded almost adoring, like she was in awe of what a genuine soul he was despite everything that's happened to him. She knew what it was like, having been expected to keep up appearances her whole life, but somehow this boy right next to her never seemed to lose touch of himself along the way. He knew what he had to do, but he also knew who he was at the end of the day.

Just hearing her say it like that was enough to melt Magnus' insides with a loving warmth. A smile spread across his face, leaning forward to press a soft kiss on her lips. He was just so relieved that he never had to pretend around Blaine, never had to prove anything to her. It was more than enough just having her there by his side, and even though he was looking forward to the day he can finally be out with her in public with pride, moments like these made their secret trips still worth going through.

.

.

.

(Due to Taro's size, it couldn’t quite fit in Magnus' bed as intended, so it instead resided on the couch in the suite. It didn't mean he didn't take any chances to nap on it though.

Dionne has sent many pictures to Blaine of the young man's face buried into its fluffy stomach, curled up on the small space as he rested peacefully, and Blaine has had to stifle many squeals of delight at the adorable sight.)

[ignitesthestxrs]

i apoligze for this in advance but idk who else to ask. so i’m attracted to women like 92% of the time but i’ve been dating a guy for a few months now. it’s not super serious yet but i still find myself feeling sad about never having had a gf/worrying i never will and just feeling like a bad queer. i KNOW that it’s terribly biphobic of me to think that if i a femme enby date a cis dude i’m not queer enough. but i also cant get past it no matter how many times i look at these ugly brain thoughts

first of all: you never have to apologise for sending me stuff like this. it is a known facet of my tumblr, and while i know i am hardly around at all, i do periodically check my inbox and am never angry or annoyed or any other negative emotion to see people reaching out for help/advice. i don’t always have the mental bandwidth to respond, but i am only ever glad that people still consider this a safe place to reach out to.

there are a couple of things i want to address here! in no particular order:

you are not a future teller or a psychic, no matter how much your worries and anxieties insist that they know what is coming. the fact that you are in a relationship with a man in this moment has no bearing on what relationships you may find yourself in, in the future. the fact that the person you are dating currently identifies as a man is no guarantee that they will always identify that way, even! you could be with them for the next couple of weeks or for the rest of your life and there are a million permutations in between and around those two options.

what i’m saying is - obsessing over things you might not do in the future because of things you are doing now is a game that nobody wins. you have no guarantees of what the future is going to hold - you can make decisions now based on what you want and/or expect the future to hold, but stressing about the path not taken means that you’re going to spend all your time straining to see that path and like, walk into a big boulder in the path you’re actually on or something. currently, you’re not even stressing about the fork in the road that you came across. you’re on a single path, and you’re worrying about a path you haven’t come across yet, which may or may not diverge from the path that you’re on, or might be in a different forest entirely and and and- at some point you gotta love the path you’re on and take in the scenery, my darling.

which, incidentally - this path? not incompatible with queerness. and i know you know this, but feeling it can be! so hard! so i am here to remind and reassure you that - queerness is not an action. the nature of identity is not things that you do, it is the person that you are. you do not cease to be non-binary because your outfit changes - your fashion choices are simply a way of expressing your non-binary-ness, and they are not the only way, and if you are not using fashion to express your enbyness then that doesn’t make you not enby. you don’t stop being enby when there is no one there to look at you and make external judgements about your gender, and you do not stop being queer because you are a femme-adjacent person dating a cis dude.

queerness is a thing that you are. you can take actions that express that queerness more clearly to outside observation, but outside observation does not change the fact of your queerness. i will not deny that it can make it easier to participate in community, because community is in part made up of particular signs that individuals recognise in each other and gravitate towards - but who you date is only one such sign. i’m a lesbian who hasn’t dated anyone for over half a decade - am i less queer because i have not hooked up with a chick in that time? i am not. if i fuck a dude am i less of a lesbian? idk man that depends on how i feel about fucking a dude. am i romantically and sexually attracted to the dude, or was his dick just inside me? what if he just uses his fingers? i feel like i could feasibly have sex with a cis man out of sheer curiosity and still be a lesbian, sure, but what if there’s a single man that just perfectly meets me where i am despite my overwhelming preference and interest in women? what if that man is trans? what does that mEAN? at which point do we stop dissecting identity and carving lines into each other?

queerness is a useful umbrella term to cover those people who exist out of heternormativity - cismen attracted to ciswomen, ciswomen attracted to cismen, exclusively. the second the spokes of that umbrella start poking you instead of protecting you from the rain, it has ceased to do its job. identity is useful in that it helps us understand ourselves and it helps us find community in other people, but there are no perfect words that encapsulate the whole of our individual experience, and there are no individual experiences that perfectly match up with another person’s individual experience, even if we use the same word/s to describe ourselves.

you can’t be biphobic at your own experiences. it’s not biphobic to look at the way you have identified previously/up to a certain point, to recognise a difference in your current behaviour, and feel weird or discomforted by this difference. it’s not biphobic to need some time to figure shit out - who you want to be, how you want to identify, what outfit fits you best. i think identity works best as a conversation with yourself - i think we should all be checking in on ourselves to make sure that the way are living is expressing the way we are being. this urge to build walls of definable identity is a protective instinct meant to save us and gather us together from the very real threats of a heteronormative society, but it can also mean we get trapped in a place that no longer suit us.

some practical advice - if the idea of never dating a girl stresses you out that much, i’d take a break from dating this dude, because it sounds like you have some work to do in terms of figuring out what experiences you want to have in life. but only you can decide where that stress line fractures, you know? but if you read this post and you sit with it for a bit and you find that the experience of dating this man is still making you miserable, it’s okay to take some time away from it. you don’t deserve misery.

that being said - like, you’ve only been dating him a few weeks? it’s cool to just envision this relationship in terms of weeks. you truly don’t have to stretch the current experience you are having out to cover the rest of your life in one daunting ‘what if’. so long as everyone involved in a relationship is clear with the terms of engagement, go forth and short term yourself some fuckin joy.

i stress, i beg, do not deny yourself the pleasure of a joyful experience with another human soul now because you are worried about what this means about other people’s perception of some amorphous identity. you are queer. you are a femme-enby person largely attracted to woman, but dating a man. you are queer, you are enough, you don’t need to question that anymore. i think that the last year, last four years, last lifetime has more than proven that life is, frankly, too fucking short. seize your joy and run with it. whether that means dating this man or take a pause to breathe and reflect, or whatever else! you’ll still be queer.

be kind to yourself my love i wish you well <3

[p1nkwitch]

If I can request one more lonelyeyes than can I have 36?

Its still lonelyeyes but with James/Peter first because you stumped me completely, I was on a soft roll!! What have you done? Is it because I never write sad stuff for realsies isn't it?

Jokes on you, I can still turn this boat around and get fluff at the end :)

36- “We can never be together” kiss

James was being difficult and it was starting to piss him off, they have been going out, not speaking well, which for him is quite the feat. The older man was… well he was handsome and he would have to admit that he enjoyed his company, perhaps-

Perhaps a little more than that, but lately he had been acting off and Peter was getting very frustrated, he even has been slowly making attempts at showing interest for something… more.

He was somewhat clumsy since he was not used to that kind of stuff, however he was calmly rebuffed, even if months ago the man would laugh a little and flirt back with interest. The sting of rejection was delightful in its own way, but he really did want the other one to reciprocate.

It was maddening.

So he invites him for dinner when he is in land, James was about to deny him, but he said it was in that particular restaurant that he likes, reserved and prepared just for them. He sees the hesitation crumble and he accepts.

Feeling much more pleased he tells him the time and date and disappears from his office. Now with a better mood he gets some clothes fit for the occasion and makes sure everything is set perfectly, with any luck this time he won't get rebuffed, or if he is he will ask for an explanation.

Peter is aware of the age difference between them, very much so, but its not so much the body rather than the man who despite his looks is sharp and funny in his own way, who delights on their own wagers and knows when to drop it and leave him alone if they get into a fight.

So yes, Peter is charmed despite everything. Forsaken curls and uncurls around him, trying to figure out what to do with him. He won't abandon it, that's also the reason why he likes the man, he understands his connection to his god and is aware that he won't choose him before it, a relationship between them would be nothing if productive for both.

Finally the day arrives and he gets there a little bit late 15 minutes or so, not wanting to give the man the inkling that he was expecting him. Of course James merely gives him a look, raises an annoyed eyebrow and walks inside, leaving him feeling cold and delighted.

The dinner goes off without a hitch, they talk and joke, make a few comments about sacrifices for their gods, it all goes well. He looks at James while sipping some wine and sees a small smile that lets him know it's not all going bad, maybe this changes his mind finally!

So it goes and he shifts ever so slightly towards him during the course of it. He doesn't comment or rebuff him, so things are looking up.

Finally its time for desert and he asks for some cake, the man looks delighted and eats it rather happily, Peter asks for a slice of apple crumble rather than the chocolate cake, so after giving it a few looks the other man sighs and asks if he wants to try it. Grinning he nods and tries to steal some, but its stopped by him who takes a piece with his fork and offers it at him with a challenging smirk.

He stops, too close, but also not enough.

Ugh-

James rolls his eyes and eats it instead, offering the plate, making him huff. Still he tries it and its very good, mmm maybe he should make some chocolate muffins before he goes away again its been a while-

Anyways, once done he offers to go along with him to take him home and that's when he sees him frown and stiffen. Peter hesitates a little bit unsure of what the issue was.

“Peter… i appreciate the company i do, but this is not… whatever this is, its not going further. It can't, i apologize if i gave you the wrong idea” He blinks rapidly and tries to understand, he flirted back, he knows he did, he-

Did he read it wrong this entire time? Forsaken is tugging at him to disappear and forget this now, to erase any shame or embarrassment and let him be released from it. But-

No, he needs to figure it out first, it can have been just him!!! He saw the beholder smiles and flushed faces, it's not just him.

“Why? You flirted back, im not, its not just me, so what is the problem!” He is a little bit more annoyed at it and he can already hear the distorted sound of the lonely around them, keeping people out from seeing them or hearing them. James' face goes hard and blank at the same time making him clench his teeth.

“I'm afraid it won't work, plus… i believe you are a little bit young, i'm sure someone closer to your age would be far more fitting than me” The way he said that sounded a little bit odd to him, but he ignored it.

“I don't care, i really don't!” James stares him down and he feels the sensation of eyes piercing his head.

“Stop that!” It subsides. The man sighs and steps closer to him, making him give a step back. He smiles somwhat nastily.

“Peter i mean it, we cant in fact i will ask of you to not contact me again beyond that of business, people are really getting the wrong impression about me and i cant have that now” He shuts his mouth close and steps forward just right in front of him. He sees his lips twitch and his eyes briefly look down to his mouth and in a fit of childish pettines he leans down and kisses him briefly. It's short and bitter, he intends to be a goodbye before leaving, but he feels him lean forward and like magnets they end up coming together, the kiss becomes deeper and he fights him all the way through, James sneaks his hands around his neck and pulls him closer still, slotting them perfectly. The warmth and the bitter knowledge that he won't change his mind make him stop with a gasp, but the other just moves and bites his lip before giving him a short peck and steps back.

“I'm sorry Peter, but we can't really be together like this” Peter who is not used to strong feelings feels his face contort in fury.

“Fine, be that way mister Wright. Goodbye” He is pulled away and misses the stricken face the other makes before going back to a neutral one.

He leaves for almost a year and refuses to go to any meeting, merely sending in the money requested from the institute. Better like this he figures.

Eventually after two years of that his uncle scolds him in his… own way and tells him to go.

So he does.

It's not what he expected at all, instead of James Wright a very young man named Elias Bouchard sits as head of the institute.

“Ah the elusive Mister Lukas, i was expecting you my predecessor left some notes about you-”

“What happened to James?” He is still puzzled, did he retire? Elias' face does a complicated journey that settles in a fake smile.

“He unfortunately died last year and I have been his replacement since. It was honestly quite sudden a heart attack out of all things” It sort of shuffles around his mind trying to comprehend what the man was saying, he… died ? he missed the funeral then, one of those calls he ignored-

“Oh” And that's all, he sits, lets the man speak, and even if it sort of feels familiar in a way he just shrugs his way around signs the papers pointed at him and goes. Again he does not see the disappointment in Elias' face.

So he comes and talks with him and then he leaves, rinse and repeat, Peter learned his lesson by now and its rather happy to not pay attention to the new beholder. Covering himself with the fog more and more and leaving him ruffled at his passiveness. He has a very light thought that he is sounding more and more like his uncle as time goes by, which is a frightening prospect but at his rate not unwelcomed. 

Elias asks him out eventually and he declines.

That sets him off in the end.

“Oh my god Peter this has gone on for too long, i thought it was some fancy but i'm really getting tired of your attitude. I apologize for how things ended but please can you fucking look me in the eyes and tell me what you see!?” Now absolutely baffled he gives him a look and shakes his head.

“What are you-”

“I was going to switch! I couldn't keep you around during that! Plus people were speaking and while i tried to get Elias it would look bad so i needed to make it less suspicious. I did want to date you. It just wasn't the right time that's all” He is starting to get angry now because he had been rifling thought his mind and was using it-

“Don't mess with me and spy just to play an awful prank on-” Elias groans, gets up, walks to him, making him step back and grabs his face making him look directly at him. He freezes at the contact, the last person he touched and was this close to was James almost three years ago.

“Look into my eyes you see weaded idiot” He stares they aren't that special, they are just grey just like Jam-

“No” He grins and its so bloody familiar and unnerving he gasps.

“Oh yes, i have been looking after my institute all this time and i wasnt about to stop now” His mind reels and he sort of gapes a little until he mumbles the name.

“Jonah Magnus?” Elias grins is positively vicious but he can see it twitch and his eyes go softer. Oh my god-

“Hi” Peter stares far longer than he ever has to another human face. Once his mind finally sorts everything out he kicks him in the leg making him let out a yell and he grabs his face before kissing him deeply. That shuts him up. Elias was shorter than James by a few inches which were hell for his neck, but ultimately he was more concerned with just kissing him harder, something the man was happy to reciprocate.

They end up making out on the couch in his office for the next 20 minutes, all between curses and questions.

“Why you-” He gets a bite on the jaw and he clutches his waist in warning.

“Told you the body was old, gossip was going around. And i-” Peter kisses him and bites his neck, making him moan a little bit.

“I panicked, i did like you, hell i wanted to take you to my place and do this and more, but my body was seriously getting in the way-” Another peck on the lips.

“Is that- fuck is that wh you said that about me finding someone younger?” He nods and goes to attach himself to his neck.

“Yes- it was a reference to Elias. Plus I thought… you weren't being serious about James” Peter has mixed feelings, lots and lots of mixed feelings that he will ignore and maybe just maybe parse through once he is alone at sea, but for now-

“Stupid, i dont care how you look as long as its you” He feels his cheeks burn and forskaen hiss at him more for that than the making out, but its betetr to let it out now.

“i will only say this time, so get it in your head” James/Jonah/Elias nods and kisses him again, he sees him flush and smiles a little bit before laughing and hiding his face on his neck. Both of them embarrassed for different reasons.

“Say do you want to marry me?” He hears him choke and Peter grins, perhaps its a crazy idea and out of nowhere, but he is rather happy with it.

Elias doesn't answer yet, merely berates him. 

But once he is about to leave he tells him to give him a ring and ask again right.

“Is that a yes?” He gives him a look that would be terrifying if he wasn't staring at the small hickey in his neck barely peeking from his shirt.

“Its not a no, now go you already messed up my afternoon”

“Sure thing little starfish” The offended sound follows him back. Oh they will make each other possibly miserable, but they will have fun though it.

[arthurflecksgirl]

Last day at HaHas/ Arthurs POV

The pocket mirror is reflecting my face. Did it change in the slightest? Is it stil the same face it always was without the make up? Or is there somethig different to it now? Is there a glimpse that shows off the changes on the inside? Can they tell? Does anyone know anything? Or is it still the face of the invisible man? Still just one face in the crowd. And not even that anymore when standing alone. Faceless. A faceless existence of an invisible man.  Maybe thats why I love wearing make up. To make me face visible to others. And show them what they want to see. A smile.

I`m not smiling, my face is resting in a state of being in deep thoughts. I always am. In deep thoughts I mean. Deep  is an understatement really. They are making their way into the very core. My thoughts are the very core of my so called existence. Is it even called existence? Because no one ever told me that, No one ever came up to me saying "hey Arthur, I`m glad that you exist!" No one ever told me "Fuck. I just hate that you exist." eighter. So if no one loves and no one hates you, you are just..... a thought inside of your own head. You don`t exist outside yourself.

The mirror may show my face but it doesnt proof anything. So I am not even looking. My eyes are focused on the inside of my locker and what will go into the trash or into my brown paper bag next.  First the mirror. The last thing its surface wittnessed was my face being unable to even look into it. I`m too afaraid of what I might see. Or what I dont see anymore. I`m not sure which fear is worse.

An empty make up pallette, a sponge, a set of cards, my hopes and dreams.

My ex workmates discuss over the news. If that man that killed the three guys on the subway was eighter wearing full make up or a mask. What difference doesn it make? Make up is just another version of a mask.

I`m alone. Standing in the coner of the changing room, and I know. I have all the answers to their questions and for a second I just wish they would know that this guy they talk about is right among them. That mysterious guy that is "Good for bussiness because they got clowns on the front of every newspaper ." Glad I could help with your fucking business, even now after I got fired. Maybe that was the best I`ve ever done for this place. That thing I didnt even intented to do. But I did and now you can all go on and discuss every single detail without knowing anything because you are being as blind and ignorant and stupid as usual.

But guess what? My eyes just started to open now. If I can defend myself by shooting these assholes on the subway, yo can`t bully me here at HaHas anymore. Especially not on my last day. Now that I empty this locker.

My locker. Yeah I can`t deny I am a little bit emotional over that. But not because of this building or this room or anyone here. Okay there is Gary. He`s a kind soul but ..... This room.....nothing but bad memories of me sitting in the corner, not being talked to, me sitting on that bank, staring outside the window until I lose all sense of time, waiting for a beam of sunlight coming through, me doing my make up day after day after day and they keep chattering but they don`t say anything. Nothing that has meaning. And I´m painting on that smile, trying to find something meaningful, something real. A moment of truth. But you can`t find it here and I couldnt find it within myself.

Not until I did that.

Killing those guys. It was a moment of truth.

The very first moment in my entire life I choose to act. For myself. I choose to be more than the guy thats being kicked around . More than the invisible man. The none existend. You can`t get killed by someone who doesnt exist? Right? So maybe there is one way to proof after all.

"Hey Arthur. I`ve heard what happened. Sorry, mate!"

Gary. Yeah he`s the only one who never joined bullying me. Maybe because he knows how it feels when others are making fun of you. I feel sorry for him that he has to work in such a shitty place with such shitty people. He deserves better. But even though he says he cares there is no real goodbye. No hug or anything. Which makes me a bit sad. I would have prefered to hug him and tell him to take care. Its just sad.  A smirk is crossing my face.

"Yeah, doesnt seem fair" Randall says while he is doing his make up. The tone in his voice is disgusting. You can tell that he is glad that I`m gone. This was what he intented all the time. I try to stay calm as the anger is staring to grow. I`m throwing the rest of the stuff over my shoulders, I dont even care about if I would need this anytime soon. Who knows if I ever find a job as a clown again? As bad as these guys are. I loved being a party clown. I loved this job. the emotions I feel while getting all my stuff out of this locker are about the kids I visited at hospitals and birthdays. Thats what I will miss. I dont know what to do now. Without this job, there is no one left to make them smile. Its not just a job I lost here. Its so much more.

One of the guys is asking me if I really brought a gun to a childrens hospital. And why I did it. I take the horn honk, my paper bag and go my way.

Yeah I did. I brought that gun because I was carrying it everywhere. because you are not save in this fucking town. Not even on your way home to take care of your sick mother dressed as a party clown.

"Is that part of your new act Arthur? If your dancing doesnt do the trick you`re just gonna shoot yourself?" The stipper asks.

Maybe. Maybe this will be the final act after all. Shooting myself in front of an audience is something I should consider. At least it would make them watch.

You can`t look away if a clown just shot himself right in front of your eyes. You gotta look and it will hurt a little, seeing his smile still lingering on his lifeless lips. Remember it. Remember him as someone who wanted to make you smile but you wouldnt have let him, so he decited that this would be his final smile to the world.

I turn around "Why dont you ask Randall about it? It was his gun!" Randall looks at me with a mixture of shock and anger on his face. "What?"  

Can`t handle the truth, huh? Gotta deal with it MY BOY!

"I still owe you for that  dont I?" I point at him and he doesnt like it.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" he takes two steps towards me. But I turn around and leave. Not cool to play the innocent one, Randall. Not cool. We both know what you did. Just go and tell them.

"Stop talking out o your ass, Art" he adds.

I  squeeze the honking horn before I throw it over my shoulder. I can feel Randall coming closer. Watching me as I walk away. Suddenly it feels good to leave this place. I hated being lonely among people in this room every morning. I hated hearing their voices and laughs and all the smalltalk they did without even looking at me for once. I hated Randall and the way he was picking on Gary. I hated this fucking stripper for being such an arrogant prick. I hated Hoyt for reminding me of my teacher back in scool.

Maybe I will just continue being a clown without all of this shit. Maybe I`ll become a better version of a clown now that I am free of you. There is this money problem now but I will figure it out. Maybe I´ll find a new job as a bartender or I´ll just go my way and rob the pharmacy.

Now that I realize how much I hated it here I have to blow off some steam.

I gasp "Oh no!"  a step back and another "I forgot to punsh out!"

One last look into their faces before I punch the clock with my fist until it falls off the wall. It feels good to see it lying there on the ground. I`m thinking about how time seemed to stand still around here. Because every day in this locker room was the same. This is my big fuck you to everyone looking at me right now. Why is it that now you can look at me as I go?

I laugh as I turn around.

The radio is playing a song that mentions my clown name. This kind of coincidence doesnt exist. Carnival is leaving the building but he is stilll here. A melodie stuck in their heads now Haunting them. The radio knows. Music always knows. Music knows your secrets. Who else knows about me? The invisible man is rising, becoming visible.

".....and turns to sorrow....king of all hear me call, hear my name is Carnival....."

I go down the stairs with an edding pen in my right hand. The bright yellow "Don`t forget to smile" sign reminds me of the day I got beaten up by those kids. This is not a place for real smiles. This is a place for fake smiles being painted on every morning. Painted onto sad, angry and worn out faces.

I cross out the words "Forget to" so now it says "Dont smile". Much better. Much more realistic for HaHas.  Now you can look at this  everytime you leave. Just like I had to look at the original version every day.

"I dance down the rest of the stairs. My name is Carnival keeps playing. keeps telling me that people finally know who I am. I kick the door open and there is light.

@impulsiveclown @will-you-be-there @jokerownsmysoul @missjoker96 @arthurskitten @lynnesm @nonnymousse @gwynplaine89 @ajokeformur-ray@damnrightobsessedwithim @sgtsavoytruffle  @duhliriouss  @flowerglitterwoman @thirstforfleck @spookyhome @iartsometimes  @you-cant-cry-in-here @bustafatclownnut @jokerismyhubbie  @check-out-this-joker @darknessisafriend  @arthurhappyclown    @neon-umbrella-for-stella   @call-me-harley-quinn  @arthurjokersgirl @raven-romanoff @ivedescoveredheathsjoker

@aarthurfleckk @mylovelycrazyworld @clownalog @ajokerfangirl  @the-one-who-is-chaos @sabrinaeileensnape @

[pixiepheonixstar]

Protected by the Stars

This is my first time posting a story.  I’m not sure about it but i figured why not.  Please let me know what you think and i always welcome opinions and help :)     _____________________________________________________________

This is a part of a larger story i am working on.  I’m unsure on the title yet but i will change it later when i get a better title.  This is a Weeping Monk x OC.            ______________________________________________________________

She had just arrived at the abbey that morning after being on a mission for the church.  She was to find some papers and give them to The Monk.  She had found him standing in a corridor waiting for her.  She was covered in blood and dirt.  She just wanted to get changed and rest up.  She walked to him with the papers in her hands and without even looking at him she pressed them to his chest hard.  She couldn't deny her hatred for him ran deep.  The less she had to deal with him the better.  His hands came up grabbing the papers she thrust at his chest.  She didn’t say a word to him just walked on past to get away from him and somewhere to change.

She had gotten word that there was a fey arrival that needed her help and went to find Morgana.  She headed for the stables.  When she walked in Morgana looked disheveled.  

"What happened?"  Eva asked.  "The girl that Arthur brought shoved me and ran out.  She didn't know where we are.  We have to find her."  Morgana said.  "What does she look like?" Eva asked.  

Morgana gave a quick description and the both left to look for her.  Eva ran into one of the nuns bedroom and found her there.  

"Stay away don’t you touch me."  Nimue said.  "Nimue?" Eva said pulling down her hood.  Nimue looked shocked.  

Just then Morgana came into the room and they began to argue.  The abbess came into the room and began asking about Nimue.  Morgana explained she had shown up in the night.  The abbess questioned her and after accepting her she told her to make her presentable and get to the infirmary.  

"Eva please come with me i may need your help with this one."  She said Eva looked at Nimue and gave her a sorry look and walked out with The Abbess.

The walked briefly as she explained the situation with the paladin that had roots coming from all parts of his body and Eva told her that she would be there shortly.  That she needed to get changed.  She went to the room where she kept things for when she was here and she began to undress.  She pealed the gown off her shoulder gently to see the damage she had taken.  The cuts on her arm weren't to deep but they needed to be bandaged up.  She cleaned them and put medicine to keep it from getting infected.  Before she put on a new outfit she looked at the large scar on her side that started on her back and wrapped it way around her side and ended on the front of her hip bone.  The scar left by him.  She finally stopped looking at it and remembering how she got it and got dressed.  She decided to lay down for just a minute.  She welcomed the rest and didn't mean to drift off.

She was awoken to the sound of craziness and yelling.  She bolted up and grabbed her silver cloak as her other was still covered in blood and grime.  She entered the hallway to see the Red Paladins dragging some of the girls along.  She stopped one of the Paladins and asked him what was going on.  

"One of them is among the girls.  Father Carden has demanded the all be brought to the barn for inspection.  The Monk will find her and she will meet her end."  He said with a smile.  

She started to move quickly to find Nimue but was unable to find her.  She spotted Celia and ran to her.  

"Where is Morgana and the new girl?" She asked  "The abbess sent them to the infirmary to keep the new girl safe." Celia told her.  

She didn't see any of the girls running around so she began her way to the barn.  This wasn’t the first time they had fey kind come here but The Abbey was her to  manage.  Not Father Carden and she would let him know just that.

"Father Carden this is not how this is done here.  There is a process to this and you will stop now."  She said sternly as she made her way into the barn walking up to him.  

"There is a fey among these women, and we must find the beast." He told her barely looking her in the eye.  

"I'm well aware of the situation father and it will be handled by me this is not..."  She stopped mid sentence and without looking back said loudly "Touch another one of these girls and i will remove your hands from your body Monk." directing her words to the man moving through the group of nuns.  

He turned his head to look toward the woman in the silver cloak and Carden.  Father Carden gave him a nod letting him know to stop.  He dropped his hands to the side and moved from his location back toward the front with the father.  

"Now you can kindly take your men out of here and i will handle it from here."  She said.  Just then Sister Iris spoke up "Where's the new girl?" she said.  

Eva closed her eyes knowing that her plan was just blown by this girl. 

 She opened her eyes and looked to Father Carden and The man known as The Weeping Monk who now stood just behind him.  

"While i understand final punishments are up to you father i would like to remind you that the nunnery is my charge and you would do well to not overstep without my presence again." She said sternly.  

When she was done the Monk spoke up in his raspy voice said "Who?".  

Eva turned to look at him briefly, and he looked back at her.  She turned her head back toward Sister Iris when she began speaking 

"The new one Alice.  Showed up last night with cuts all over." Iris said.  "Last night?"  Eva asked.  Iris shook her head.  

The Monk turned and quickly walked out of the room.  "You said there were no more girls."  Father Carden said to The Abbess.  "Filthy, Like shed been hiding in the woods."  Iris continued in a haughty tone.  The Abbess let out a shaky sigh of fear.

The monks began running around trying to find her, but Eva knew where she was.  She headed straight for the infirmary.  With her speed she was there quickly.  She came in with stealth closing the door behind her without the praying paladins hearing her.  Seeing the man stir and point at Nimue she quickly and quietly motioned to Morgana.  The praying monks stopped and one said "He's awake.".  

Before they could notice what he was trying to do Morgana told them to continue praying quickly.  When they put their heads back down and continued praying she pulled Morgana over.  

"In a few short moments the red paladins will be in this room to get Nimue.  We can't allow that.  You can handle this quickly I'm sure."  She said tapping her elbow.  Morgana nodded and moved back by the red paladin on the bed.  

"Nimue.  In a moment we are going to go out that door over there." she said pointing to the back door.  "I need you two to stick together.  I can't come with you but she knows where to take you and will get you out of here."  She gave her a smile.  

She headed out the door to wait for them.  The red paladins called for more men as the poison Morgana gave the man began to take effect.  They came running in and that was when they needed to get out of there.  They ran out not realizing the door wasn't fully shut behind them.

They stopped very briefly and she hugged Nimue.  "Be safe.  I know you can do this.  I’m sorry i cant take you myself but i have to try and defuse this situation.  Born in the Dawn."  She said.  "To pass in the Twilight."  Nimue Responded and they split off from each other.  

Eva made a loop around moving very quickly and came into the room right after Father Carden, The Monk and The Abbess.  

"This is the last place she was seen where is she?"  She said coming in behind the group.  

They all turned as she pushed past the red paladins standing there.  "She appears to have fled."  Carden said.  

"I will have the nuns check every corridor and room for signs of her.  Abbess please come with me and help get the girls looking."  She said  

"I can't allow her to leave with you.  She needs to be questioned about this and once I have all the information i will make a judgement on her punishment."  Carden said.  

Eva knew she couldn’t push it and make him have a reason to come after her too so she gave in.  "Very well."  Was all she said exiting the room.

_______________________________________________________________

He was standing against the door frame at the end of the hall she was heading down.  He wasn't quite blocking the door, but he was taking up enough space that she would have to pass closely to him if she wanted to go through.  As she reached him he moved over just enough to make it so she couldn't pass by him.  

"It's convenient you left at the same time as us but got to the infirmary after we were there."  He said.  

She just gave him a shrug and tried to walk past him, but he grabbed her upper arm stopping her. She winced slightly when he grabbed her hitting her cuts.  She looked from his hand on her arm to his face.  Her purple eyes meeting his blue.  

"We both know you are more than capable of making it there before us and could have easily slipped out and back around just in time."  He said.  

She made no attempt to correct him then.  Pulling her arm out of his grip she put a hand on the door.  

"If you will excuse me Monk i have to go say goodbye to a friend who will be taken and killed for simply being a good human being."  She said to him.  

She started to push the door open as he moved away from the door and the wall.  She stopped before pushing the door all the way open.  

"Oh and Monk."  she started and he turned his head to face her.  She looked him straight in the eyes and said  "Don’t presume to know what i’m capable of.  You have no idea what i can do."  

She walked away through the door closing it behind her and leaving him there with the thought.

[nickyneshwrites]

Cold Chapter 3

Bold=???

He was pacing around in front of his desk flicking his blade around in one hand, mumbling to himself, and fidgeting with his phone in the other hand. Shizuo still was nowhere to be found and Izaya was desperate. He had heard whispers of his possible location but had come up short everywhere he looked.

If this kept up he was going to raze every single gang in the city to find his lover, pathetic humans, and their opinions are damned!

He stopped flicking his knife looking at the glinting blade and in a moment of complete frustration threw it, it stayed stuck in his office wall. Then he felt and heard his phone ring and quickly pushed the knife from his mind. 

“Yes hello. . .What about him?. . .Where are you?! . . .Skip the pleasantries Shiki,                            Where.Are.You . . . I swear if I have to listen to you-! . . I’ll be there in fifteen minutes!”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The blonde monster needed to go, not that it wasn't fun having Orihara flustered but it wasn't nearly enough fun to keep the raging monster in his company.

Not only had he injured six of his men he’d torn up a whole room and had to be moved to a more… accommodating environment. This was just getting out of hand. 

Shiki sighed, then let his mind wander. A lot of this seemed strange, for one Orihara was showing an unusually open amount of interest in Heiwajima, normally he at least tried to feign disinterest, earlier the pure worry in his voice was clear as day.

Listening to the grunting and squeaking happening in the room over was now setting him on edge even more, as he lingered on the fact that the only thing keeping the blonde man firmly tied to the bed was a ridiculous amount of tranquilizer and thick chains. 

The doctor who he had asked to look after the blonde was certain in his methods of detaining the crazed man but it was in Shiki’s opinion that he was seriously underestimating the strength of one of Ikebukuro's most notorious men. 

He goes over to the door and the grunting stops. Upon opening the door he sees the blonde laying still, eyes still open he keeps a good distance away from the man in case he decides to lunge but it soon becomes obvious that he is in some sort of unconscious daze. 

He looks to see if he's still breathing and finds that he is and sighs, good he really couldn't deal with Orihara going rouge again. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was swimming in it, all the self-doubt, the fear of hurting others, the complete overwhelming. . . 

“Sh. . .n”

Despair! Admit it for you know it's the truth, all of the love you hold is fake and you only push your pathetic existence upon those around you!

He wanted to deny it but he couldn't, his strength was a tool of destruction that would eventually drag all of those he holds dear to their doom. 

Blackened tendrils crept up his subconscious submerging him deeper in their viscous fear dragging up all the truths he tried to keep hidden in himself. 

A figure stands before him with an obscured face and it speaks directly to him in a hushed voice.

“-Ch. . .an”

The love you share is false, admit it! You took advantage of the hate you shared and shaped it into a twisted form of love that you've disillusioned yourself into believing.

He tried to escape to deny all of what he was hearing but it was too late he could no longer breathe and the darkness had taken hold devouring all his light.

"S-h. . .uo!"

Yes accept it, then return to your lie no but know no matter how much you run or you brush me away. Know I will still be there.

The figure leaves in black wisps and silence reigns in his consciousness. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Izaya enters a building at the back end of Shinjuku, normally he would care to know just what it is that goes on in a place like this but right now he doesn’t. 

All he wants is to find Shizuo to grab hold of his brute and bring him to his flat and keep him there so something like this doesn’t happen again. He’d always known the moment he lost control of his Shizu-chan bad things would happen. He just never assumed it would be to the stupid brute himself. 

He walks down a flight of stairs and is met with a tall door, he knocks three times then waits.

“ O-orihara-same, welcome uh, Shiki-dono is w-waiting in the lower level.” 

A small man stands behind the door in front of Izaya, and as the informant gives him the once over it's obvious the man is scared. Izaya's usual mask of aloofness has melted into one of neutrality and the man is right to question his safety with such a gaze aimed at him.

Once they get moving Izaya takes time to notice that the man is in a lab coat and that the area they’ve walked to looks quite similar to an underground clinic. 

The creaking of bed frames, the sound of heart monitors, and the distinct smell of bleach are the next things to assault his senses and he starts to get anxious. It seems Shiki has more going on under the city than he was privy to… 

This just means there's something for him to look into after this whole situation is solved.  

Once they pass through that area he is led to a door to the side and it takes all of a second for Izaya to understand what he's looking at, he doesn't like it and before the meek man can open the door to the room, a blade is pressed to his back. 

“Ne doctor-Kun, I've followed you here without complaint because you told me you were leading me to Shiki-dono so could you explain to me why I'm being brought to the interrogation room?” 

His tone was pleasant but the danger was clear and the knife pressed in the smaller man's back was sending a very clear message. He was frozen in place trying to find his voice while not fainting from all the stress, he was not prepared for this at all. 

“Sh-s-s-sh-iki-dono is in the t-this room, the patient is there too after he d-deemed them too danger-rous to leave out in the main building! Please don't hurt me I was ju-”

The black imposing door is opened and the doctor crashes to the floor, passes Shiki, and immediately scrambles away from the violent man he was forced to meet. 

“S-Shiki-dono your g-guest is here and with that, I think I should take my l-leave!”  

Izay has long since stopped listening to the blubbering idiot and passes only a glance at Shiki before he walks by him and cautions a look around the room behind the Awakusu-kai member, and he sees him laid up there, his Shizu-chan!

“Shiki-dono knows how to treat his guests so whatever this is should also have an explanation, right? A reasonable explanation that will explain why it was necessary to chain an injured Shizuo to a bed, right?!”

He wasn't pointing his knife at anyone despite the strong urges to attack though his breathing was giving away the obvious distress? Anger? Or maybe even fear he was feeling.

This situation was exactly what Shiki was trying to avoid, he has every intention to pass Heiwajima over to Orihara but he was sure to the tense man it didn't look that way. He takes a step back to sit in the chair in the corner and looks straight at the informant, he knows he has to play this right or things could blow out of proportion and he's not in the mood for the melodrama.

“He’s simply restrained for his safety and that of my men, this room was the best for such a situation, and seeing as we couldn't get him to calm down this was the best I could arrange, he’s under a strong tranquilizer and has been showing strong signs of mental distress”

At this point, Izaya has heard what he wants and is moving towards the bed, as he approaches he notices that Shizuo's eyes are wide open but is seemingly unresponsive. He touches the blonde's arm and can't help the intake of breath he makes when he feels how cold he is to the touch.

“Shizu-Chan comes on I know you’re stronger than whatever this is…” 

Izaya pockets the knife he's still holding and moves to grab onto the blonde's shoulder, he pulls on the chains there loosening them as much as he can.

“That isn't a good idea Orihara-san, he isn’t very stable and I don't think disturbing him in this state will not end well”

But again Izaya wasn’t listening, he just kept pulling and calling for the blonde getting lost in a haze of frustration as he rasped out his desperate call. 

“Shizu-chan please you're not allowed to fall to anyone but me, wake up. Come on Shizu-chan I can even buy you those ridiculously sweet milkshakes you like just … Wake up Shizuo!”

He sounded close to tears and Shiki sat in shock at the display in front of him, the whole situation was kind of surreal. He was sure he had a good guess as to what the nature of their relationship was behind closed doors but this type of emotional response was more than he expected coming from the normally supercilious informant. 

 Then from behind the trembling back of the smaller man he saw it, the moment heiwajima eyes came back into focus but still holding that crazed spark. 

“I-izaya?” 

There was a moment of silence as his eyes and Izayas met like they were trying to talk through them to push forward the pain they each had to endure.

And in one act of utter relief, Izaya kisses the blonde, hard and passionate and desperate with all the pent-up energy he'd built up being released in the only way he could think to communicate. 

He doesn't even hear as the chains are broken and fall to the ground with a heavy thump. But he does feel the blonde's hands pull at his fur coat and he sees the tears trickle down the fractured man's cheek.

A tired moan ripples through the kiss and Izaya retreats leaving a thin line of saliva connecting their mouths, his breathing is haggard and it takes him awhile 

to calm down. He looks over his tired lover, Shizuo's normal bartender uniform ruined, now a tattered and stained shirt and ripped pants with his sunglasses nowhere to be seen. 

“I’m sorry Izaya! I’m sorry I’m like this -this monst-i c-cant its just - i-i-I’m sorry! Im wrong were wrong I’m sorry so sorry sorry so much I-I-I-i”

Shiki leave the room he’s heard enough and decides he doesn’t need to know what else is going to be said, he’s given the informant what he wanted and as far as he’s concerned he’s done his job.

It’s up to Oriharta to fix the obviously damaged Heiwajima and to that he wishes him all the luck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been 2 days since Izaya brought Shizuo back to his flat, it's been quiet. Once Shizuo was showered and fed all Izaya wanted to do was hold onto his blond and never let go but he never came in fact he seemed to want to keep as much space as possible. Shifting from any type of contact Izaya initiated and spending hours at a time in the guest room instead of their shared bedroom.

The body that once housed his loud and lively lover was cold and distant. And when he wasn’t hiding, Izaya caught glimpses of a crazed fear in the blondes eyes, and he so wanted to help, to put this whole issue to rest and go back to how things were before his disappearance but it seemed impossible when the blond was so distant.

Shizuo's sitting on the sofa silently looking out at Izaya's unfinished game of chess, he doesn't really understand what about it had him quite so entranced but it was 

better than seeing the hurt in Izaya's eyes when he looked at him. He’s standing in the doorway even now just looking; probably weighing how much trouble it would be worth to keep someone as useless as himself just sitting around. 

He hears him let out a sigh from the door frame and steels himself as he comes and sits next to him.

“Shizu-Chan look at me, we need to talk ” 

Shizuo did as he was told. 

“You need time I get that but you need to at some point tell me what it is that you need me to do to help you. I care ok, when you disappeared I went looking everywhere, I found the bastards who attacked you that day and tried my damndest to make them pay. And as much as it hurts me to sit here spouting sentimental trash it hurts more to see you so… so broken, I love you so please just tell me what's wrong Shizuo”

And how could Shizuo ignore how sincere he sounded, those uttered words his name falling from the lips he’d spent years chasing? He shuffled over to the smaller man who was obviously giving him space and rested his head on Izaya's lap. Izaya didn’t really do anything at first but then he started running his fingers through the blonde locks soothingly. 

“Just don't leave me”

The words travelled the silent room and seemed to be made more real by the silence and while no reply was made, the gentle way in which fingers caressed the taller man's cheeks were enough to make him know they were acknowledged.

A promise made in tranquility only truly believed by one of them.

[that-gt-and-vore-stuffs]

Sweet, Sweet- er, Sour Revenge

Ask and ye shall receive! [Looking at you @pockette-sized ;)]Another of the odd names on Davey’s list shall be explained! Buckle up! (This gets shippy)

Vore under the cut

He won’t forget that first day with Jack. Not after all that happened in the short time. The Delanceys, Weisel and most memorable, Snyder. He can remember suddenly being told to book it and ending up in Medda’s theater after running from said man. He can remember the way Jack looked him dead in the eye before leading him and Les as far away as they could.

Another thing about Snyder he remembers is after the strike.

He wasn’t sure what exactly Jack and the other boys did but he did know that it ended in him knowing the answer to a question he wasn’t that keen on knowing at first.

————

The strike was settled, Jack was staying in New York, and things didn’t seem like they could get better. That night they all had met at Jacobi’s to grab a bite and talk and celebrate and boy was he glad for it. Co-Running a strike was tiring. Not to mention time consuming. Had he gotten to eat? Not that he remembered. Meaning he was more then glad to get something at their celebration.

Or so he thought.

The boys wouldn’t leave his food alone. They didn’t steal it, no. But what they did do is keep it out of his reach.

“Jackie!!” He whined, reaching towards the leader of Manhattan as the boy pulled his plate out of reach. This earned laughs from the rest of the group gathered at the table, furthering his embarrassment. “Come on! Just give me my food back!”

“I thought you would’ve learned Jack don’t listen by this point.” He hears someone, Elmer, joke.

Race is quick to shoot a comment back. “Oh please. He listens t’one person and one person only, wise ass. His Daveyyy~!”

Davey, in turn, goes red. The teen pulls his cap down over his face as he rests his chin on the table. He can feel his stomach growling, glad that no one can hear it over the sounds of celebration. At this point he might as well just shrink and swallow Jack, but...no. He can’t do that. Not now. Not here.

“Jack, come on. Let the poor boy.....” Katherine, about to stand up for Davey, is silenced by a single wink from Jack. Mouthing a little ‘oh’ she quotes down again, listening in on the conversation of the others.

“Now what the hell is that supposed to mean?!” Davey finds himself huffing at the other boy, once again gaining the attention of the others though their conversation doesn’t stop.

“Nothin’ Dave. Nothin’ at all.” Jack’s smirk is not sitting well with Davey as he reaches again for his plate, only to get it taken away.

“God Fucking Damnit! Stop being a dick, Jack!”

“Woah-ho! Language David!”

“Oh don’t even go there, Kelly.”

The rest of the night there is filled with playful banter, plenty of teasing, and sadly no food. Not for David at least. They had wrapped up the hotdog and told him “later.”

As he started the walk home, alone and stomach growling at him, he started to wonder when later was.

That’s when he was dragged into the theater.

————

Did he like being yanked into the theater by unknown forces? No. Did he like being tied down by said forces? No. Did he like that he was still left hungry during all of this? Not a chance.

The teen struggled against his bindings the best he could. Hand, feet, and legs. Damn ropes were tied good too. He sighed, slumping over the most he could in the chair. Then a light turned on. As it flickered to life above him Davey squinted, both trying to adjust his eyes better and to see who trapped him here.

“Jesus, Dave. You really wanna fight me?” Came a smooth, cocky voice that the young Pred knew all too well. Jack Kelly. “I thought we’s was friends.”

“Why in the world am I tied down, Jack?” Davey asks with a relived sigh. At least it wasn’t some creep. He tried to squirm against his bindings again, only to find it still did nothing.

Jack can’t help but laugh. Davey was adorable when he was mad. He couldn’t deny that one. Walking more into the light, the boy slowly stalked forward. “I want t’help you, dork.”

Davey’s eyes locked in Jack’s form the moment he could see him. That look....he knew it. In this situation? It wasn’t a good thing to see. He couldn’t help but try and lean back in the chair. “What do you mean help me? How can you do that after the stunt you pulled in Jacobi’s?”

A small laugh bubbles from Jack’s throat. “That’s exactly what, dear David. Don’t think I’m not aware that you’s....runnin’ on empty.” Smirking, the painter presses a hand into the taller teen’s stomach for emphasis. He can’t help but snort when he feels and hears a growl from under his hand.

Davey tenses temporarily, melting before he can stop it from the soft pressure. Once again red, he tries to stutter out his thoughts. “Wha....what in the world? Are you finally going to let me eat?”

“.....you could say that.”

“Jack, what do you mean by that?” Davey asks, clearly wary if his tone said anything. He squirmed lightly as Jack pressed harder before removing his hand.

“Well, I’s am gonna let ya eat. So you can calm ya nerves on that one.”

“Then what in the world does the “you could say that” mean, Jack Kelly?”

Jack looks away for a moment before turning back and booping Davey on the nose. “I’ll be right back.” Without further explanation he walks off to a corner of the backstage area.

Davey frowns. What in the heck was Jack getting? What was this going to lead to? Knowing Jack...nothing good.

Sometimes, he really hates when he’s right.

Like now for instance. When he watched Jack Kelly walk out of the darkness with a gagged tiny in his fist. A tiny he could place the name Snyder to. As if this wasn’t bad enough already, the drool puddling on his tongue thanks to the sight of the tiny only served to tell him his instincts were back at it again. Oh boy. “I-I-“

“Now Dave, before you say anything, I know what you’re thinking. How and why the hell does Jack have a shrunken Snyder in his hands.” Jack makes sure to gesture with his hands to make this worse for the tiny. As if it wasn’t bad enough. “See, me and the boys, we’s managed t’convince some people t’let us handle him for a night. They’s was gonna have me be the one t’do this but I’ve had my fun against him and I recall you not havin’ eaten anything in like, a day and a half. So here we are.”

Davey blinked. He....Jack wanted him to....oh boy. The teen gulped, looking to the squirming tiny again. How was he supposed to respond to that?

“Well? Ya doin’ it or not?”

Davey’s gaze never moved from the tiny. His tongue slowly peaked out and snaked around his lips. If that wasn’t enough of an answer for the painter then the growl from the curly haired boy’s stomach sure was.

Jack smiled, walking back to Davey’s side. Watching Davey track the man his his hand was oddly satisfying. Maybe it was the way he felt Snyder shaking. He booped the Pred, smiling down at him. “Davey? Could you open your mouth for me?”

Davey didn’t have to be told twice. Hunger was starting to blind him as he felt his chin tilted back. He opened his mouth wide, as instructed, closed his eyes and waited.

Seeing Davey so obedient was so weird. Usually the boy used his mind. Never really did he act like a mindless puppet or a obedient puppy. /Heh...cute/ Shifting his grip, he dangled Snyder over his friend’s maw. “You want a treat, Davey? Wanna help me out and keep him captive in your empty belly?”

Ok. Maybe he was having a bit too much fun with this.

It wasn’t like Davey could argue with him. Poor boy was mindless. He just waited with a open mouth, leaning forward a bit to try and coax the tiny into his mouth.

This was perfect. Jack had never seen the scared side of Snyder and boy was he going to savor it. Smirking at the small man who caused him and many others harm he merely waved before dropping him to his friend.

The hunger blinded Pred was quick to take to the tiny in his mouth. Jaws snapping shut around him, tongue pushing him around for a while.

When it came to situations like this, Jack was often the one most ok with it. Now was no exception. Smiling and getting to work undoing he bindings he gently pressed the pred’s belly. “You can swallow whenever, Dave. Just keep him down.”

It’s not a surprise to him when Davey swallows near instantly after he finishes talking. Looking up he can see the last of the small bulge disappearing past his friend’s collar bone. With a smile he presses against Davey’s belly, waiting for the first sign of Snyder entering his sleeping place for the night.

When it came he heard a small groan from above, finishing on the last binding already. “Oh? Someone back t’themselves?”

Davey groaned quietly, trying to comprehend the feeling along with the oddly sour taste in his mouth. He tilted his head, confused until a shiver hit him like a door. Oh. That kind of Back to himself. Not thinking, he brings a hand down to his belly only to find Jack’s there. “J-Jack-“

“Nuh-Uh. You’re letting me handle this.”

Davey cant even get out a small noise before he feels Jack’s somehow both rough and soft hands press into his gut. They start to move in circles as his captive fights off the sudden rubs, sending him into full submissive mode.

He’s gone limp and can’t move if he tried.

Jack knows it. He had to be the first one to have learned about Davey’s weakness for belly rubs and boy did he use it to his advantages. Now was no acception. Completely ignoring the muffled protests from the man inside his friend’s gut, he continues the little massage.

It’s no surprise when he starts to hear soft snoring.

Davey doesn’t remember much after that. What he does know is that he woke up in the best position ever. He had to assume he passed out and Jack carried him to the lodging house after, thanks to waking up curled up, still pleasantly full. Was he complaining? No. Was he going to Spit Snyder up now? No. Did he owe Jack? Big time.

But how does someone repay their friend for belly rubs and cuddles?

[zenosanalytic]

Harrow the Ninth: Flotsam

So I’m currently on page 136 and have more stuff to palaverate. Again: Spoilers if you aren’t to that point.

But gosh this book is dense! Not in a bad way certainly, but there’s just such a sense of Stuff going on in it, and I keep finding myself reading passages over and over again & checking vocabulary to make sure I’m grasping it, which works REALLY WELL with a narrative abt someone buried in grief, struggling with unreality, and not entirely in control of their own thoughts, behavior, and body.

“Insanity”, The Body, and Gideon

Ok so now I know that, whatever this is, it’s not JUST a psychological break but also some actual physical and metaphysical injury that Harrow did to herself(partly through the semioblivious assistance of Ianthe) which has created these false(or perhaps falsified, given the constant refrain of “is this really how it happened?”) memories, as well as Harrows physical and metaphysical frailties, and her blackouts/episodes of lost time.

I’m also getting the sense that the hallucinations&memories of The Body might be an alteration too? Like: there was no evidence of something like the “insanity” Harrow has in these memories, nor mention of the visions themselves, in Gideon the Ninth, and the letter DID say Harrow’s intent was to create a “new” Harrow(obvsl partly through a new history), and The Body(and similar manifestations like when Magnus’s eyes turn a color she won’t let herself comprehend[probably a golden yellow], or when she hears Lyctor!Gideon’s name -edited to Ortus- and immediately starts anxiety-bleeding from her ears), seem to crop up at moments which recall Gideon.

So I’m wondering if “The Body” and this “insanity” are not just set-dressing(though I was initially taking The Body hallucinations as real and previous to all this) but directly a method Harrow has used to hide Gideon from her, like an overlay? I mean: obvsl that’s the whole point of this Ortus alternate history, but I’m wondering if also, perhaps, the memories of The Body are overwriting memories of times with/thoughts of Gideon, and if some of these visions are Gideon manifesting for her, and her brain recasting it as The Body(which, if that’s the case, says some very Interesting Things about her feelings for Gideon[I mean: her whole “I cant live in a universe without you in it” speech in GtN was pretty explicit abt the intensity of her feelings, so it’d really only confirm a romantic/sexual component to that, if again that is what’s happening]). Though it could more be moments when she THINKS about or wants for Gideon(she tends to show up at tense or frightening moments as well) and her brain brings up The Body as a distraction. Also just the terminology here, “The Body”, is suggestive. I mean obvsl it’s an understandable term for the girl in the tomb, but it’s also the common term for a corpse(and also the title of a Buffy episode famous for dealing with the sudden death of a loved one and the grief that brings and I KNOW Muir knows that) like, for instance, Gideon’s corpse and all the trauma, grief, and heartache that it represents. Basically I’m just saying: it’s specific genericness makes it Ambiguous, and THAT makes it prime dictional real-estate for symbolic masking u_u

Also I’m wondering What The Deal is with those blackouts, obvsl? In the last one she impaled Cytherea’s corpse. Could this be Original!Harrow resurfacing, or another construct like New!Harrow, or violent responses to triggering events which her brain is then “forgetting”, or are these episodes more like the memory loss associated with psychosis? There are many possibilities here.

Also Also: I wonder why she rewrote Teacher as using her sort of over-the-top diction? Though, when she relates what he told her about the facility to Gideon, that was also more in her mien(though not nearly so as in the false memories in HtN) than what we’d seen before in his interactions with Gideon, so could it be that, one-on-on, Teacher behaved differently with everyone there?

Also Also Also, while we’re on the subject of diction, there’ve been moments where the 2nd person narration has used thoroughly Gideonian phraseology, and attributed it to Harrow’s inner thoughts, so I’m wondering if that’s a sign that she still IS connected to Gideon’s soul but has blocked it somehow, or if it’s just supposed to be suggesting Gideon as a narrator, or if it’s just Muir’s style(I mean: it very much IS Muir’s style either way, but is it JUST that or intended to convey something?). I’d read an old interview recently where Muir talked abt writing Gideon as being “very human”(also: “a kiwi hero”, but neither here nor there :p :p) in opposition to Harrow who was trying to deny her humanity, which makes Gideon’s diction popping up Suggestive; either of her continued presence in some sense, or of a change in Harrow towards the more humane(and I mean: she’s literally altered her own memories to make herself a different person because of the disgust she felt at herself over Gideon’s death and all the abuse she put her through in life, so...).

FTL

The shuttle Gideon and Harrow used didn’t, and couldn’t, have had a stele, so either there is another form of FTL the Empire is using, or Ninth isn’t Pluto, or Muir just fudged the numbers in Gideon the Ninth :p Maybe there’s some other FTL transit method connecting the Houses?

EGGS

WTH is the DEAL with these Egg messages, HUH?!? They’re a bit too coherent to be word-salad, and they’ve only popped up in these false memories so far(in fact; other than The Body visions, these “insanity”-hallucinations have only ever manifests in those false memories so far), so I wonder if it’s something to do with Gideon; a message perhaps? The “You Lied” is suggestive, given the message in the final Lyctor room. Maybe this is just me trying to read into something that’s not meant to have meaning other than to be disturbing&build the mental-illness narrative for New!Harrow. They are pretty over-the-top, and Harrow has an obvs love for the over-dramatic

Harrow and The River

So, even tho she’s deliberately maimed herself so as to prevent her use of Lyctor abilities, she can cast within The River, which no one’s supposed to do/be ABLE to do, and she didn’t experience any of the dislocation, at least not til the end(?), AND she felt as if she remembered the experience? What’s up with that?? And her dislocation seemed different than how the Emperor described it, losing touch with your body. Like: she set it off by casting, which was amplified and misdirected for some reason, and her blood got into The River, and then she saw that vision of the Ninth House dead, then the Gideon!Baby which REALLY set her off, and the Emp talked of this as an attempt by The River to disrupt her(meaning: she wasn’t disrupted at the time, meaing she was holding together really well). And she got kind of Ascendy and could see the shuttle from The River’s perspective?? ?

And then the whole thing with the Lights.

“one, two, three, four, five, all around you, and one beneath”

“... five points of light...”

Hmmm... The ppl on the shuttle? The Four passengers and who; The Body/Gideon?? Given the “two hundred pinpricks of light” representing the Ninth House dead killed to make her, I’m pretty sure the points of light are meant to be souls so that’s likely, but then what about “and one beneath”? The River? But that’s all around them. Perhaps the Resurrection Beast revealed to be nearby in the latter chapel sequence by Lyctor!Gideon/Ortus? idk I need to think about it.

[reesewestonarchive]

chapter four / rem belongs to @forlornraven / masterpost / mature content

Music pulses through Nakoa’s legs, and Jenna’s body sways against Nakoa’s, pressed against him as close as she can go. She smells like mangoes, like sweat.

Nakoa inhales against her neck, licks a long line up to her jaw, sucks against it. She shudders underneath him, and Nakoa grins as she takes his hand, presses it beneath her jeans. She turns her head, pupils blown wide, and she says, “Wanna go back to mine?”

Yes. Absolutely. Nakoa feels a buzz in his veins he hasn’t in a while at the prospect, and—”Yeah. You bet.”

He’s not sure where Rem is, but he’s been gone all day. left that morning, didn’t come back, even though the car still sits in the parking lot at the motel. At least, it did, before Nakoa took to the streets to find something to take his mind of it, off of wondering where Rem was.

Probably wasted in the back alley of some bar, still downing a bottle of whiskey he’d pilfered off of some unsuspecting bartender.

Or—maybe he’s doing exactly what Nakoa’s doing now, finding somebody to bury his dick into, get off without the mountain of complications.

It’s been three days, and between sightseeing and sleep, they’re only just west of Denver, in some shitty small town that reminds Nakoa of Withervale just a little too much, but the girls are attractive, and the guys look like they could punch Nakoa out if he stared a little too long, and Rem’s been in a bad mood since Baldie.

Nakoa’ll take his chances, he thinks, with Jenna. He asks, “Are you far?” and grins when she shudders as he touches her.

He goes home with Jenna, and tries not to think of Rem when he comes.

Jenna offers to give him a ride back to the motel, but in the aftermath Nakoa really just wants a fucking shower, to wash what feels like a layer of filth off of him, and some awkward fifteen minute drive across town isn’t going to make him feel any better.

And it’s not cold out, anyway. “I’m good,” he says, as he tugs on jeans. Jean covers herself with her sheet, cocks her head to the side.

“You okay?” Her tone is just this side of concerned; she’s being polite, but Nakoa can tell she’s not really interested in the answer.

“Yeah,” he says, then, for a reason he doesn’t know, he says, “just complicated.”

“Aw,” Jenna says, sitting at the end of her bed. “I know complicated.” She gives him a glance, then says, “You a cool guy?”

Nakoa’s a loser. Unemployed and homeless and traveling across the country without any kind of a fucking plan, in search of a better life he’s not sure he’s ever going to find. Mediocrity feels less like a shadow hunting him and more like the prize at the end of the race.

Is he running away from it, or running towards it?

“I guess.” She can’t be talking about that.

“My girlfriend and I are kind of on a break.” She shrugs. “And it’s so stupid.”

“Relationships are complicated,” Nakoa says. He pulls his shirt over his head. “My…” but the word doesn’t come. What is Rem? His best friend? It’s not untrue, but he’s reasonably sure most best friends don’t fuck.

Most.

Is there a word for something in the middle, between romantic and friendly?

As she watches him, Jenna seems to pick up what’s going through his head. “Oh,” she says, pointing a finger at him. “You got it bad.”

“I do not.”

“And I thought me and my girl were complicated.”

For some reason, that pisses Nakoa off more. “There’s no girl.”

It’s the first time he’s even come close to saying the word out loud. Nakoa knows there’s a word for who he is, but it still feels wrong when he says it, when he thinks it. Not the attraction—there’s merit in sleeping with all kinds of people—but the word. The way people see it and think disgusting. Heathen.

“Oh.” Jenna’s voice is soft, and she stands. “So. Same boat.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

She shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

They kiss before Nakoa leaves, just because Jenna enjoys it, just because she asks, and Nakoa agrees because she showed him a good time, and it’s the least he can do. He wishes her good luck with her girlfriend and stomps back to the hotel room.

Where Rem sits, outside of it, empty fifth clutched between his knees. He doesn’t hear Nakoa approach, but he does react when Nakoa touches his shoulder, jerks away like Nakoa’s burned him.

“About fucking time,” he says, and his voice is like a river, watery and rushing, tripping over itself in his eagerness to speak. “I’ve been waiting for hours.”

“Sorry,” Nakoa says. Doesn’t point out that Rem has a key, too. He unlocks the door. He tugs on Rem’s arm, and the whiskey bottle falls to the sidewalk, crashes and breaks. Nakoa leaves it. “Did you drink all of that?”

“It’s—” He hiccups. “Bottom shelf, don’t get hissy.”

Nakoa took… something, at the club, earlier, before he went home with Jenna. He’s awfully fucking hypocritical if he tells Rem that he can’t do this. At least he came back. At least they got away from Baldie. From Withervale.

Drunk and alive is better than the alternative.

He draws Rem into the shower, starts taking off his clothes, and Rem says, “Ooh, am I gonna fuck you over the counter?”

“Keep dreaming,” Nakoa says, as he pulls off Rem’s jeans. He’s cold, so Nakoa warms the water and shoves him under the stream. Rem yelps, but relaxes into the hot, if lacking pressure, water. His entire body goes slack as it cascades over him.

Nakoa turns away, doesn’t watch, as tempting as it is. “You get back okay?”

Rem laughs. “Please. Liquor store’s not that far away. Where’d you get off to?”

“Girl I met at the club.” Nakoa pitches his voice higher, to be heard over the water. “You have a good time?”

“Better when you’re there.”

But he didn’t ask. He’d blazed through cities, the last forty eight hours, taking small roads instead of highways, getting lost and debating over the map with Nakoa multiple times, and.

“Missed you,” Rem says, his voice quiet. Nakoa wonders if he even said it at all. If maybe he imagined it. He’s been wanting to hear Rem say it for so long. Hoping for some kind of sign.

But no.

The water shuts off, and Nakoa makes his way back out into the room, digs in Rem’s bag until he finds something suitable for bed for him. The idiot’ll pass out on the bed, if he doesn’t, and Nakoa’ll end up with none of the blanket instead.

Rem stands in the threshold to the bathroom, though, and Nakoa glances up at him, just once, before turning back to the task at hand.

“I mean it,” Rem says.

Means what? “Sure.” T-shirt, underwear. It’ll work. Someday, when Nakoa’s not counting every penny, he’ll buy Rem some new clothes, fi him back in with the style.

Nakoa, though. He needs a job, first. Something simple, something under the table. A stable place in LA, or somewhere else, because he and Rem are living off of gas station snacks and Nakoa’s stomach is protesting bite of food he eats.

But every mile between him and Withervale feels a little more like flying

He gives Rem his clothes, and before he can turn away, Rem’s fingers reach out, wrap around his wrist. His voice is soft, unlike him, when he says, “Nakoa,” and Nakoa looks up, studies the lines in Rem’s face, the curve of his cheekbones, the arch of his eyebrows.

He doesn’t know what to say, so he lifts a shoulder in a shrug and holds uncertainty deep in his chest like an old friend. Rem strokes his thumb down Nakoa’s wrist, and there’s a short glimpse of a smile before he lifts one hand, the one holding his towel, and pulls Nakoa in, forehead to forehead, whiskey strong on his breath.

Nakoa breathes it in, lets his eyes fall close as the towel unravels at Rem’s feet, as Rem closes the distance between them.

Rem tastes like whiskey, like freedom, like betrayal, but Nakoa can’t complain if he tastes like someone else. He accepts the kiss for whatever it is, and pulls back. Taps his fingers against Rem’s chest and says, “I’m pretty tired, man.”

It’s not a denial, but Rem’s different, shitfaced, whiskey heavy on his lips and in his limbs, and Nakoa likes him normal, likes him sober, likes the way he lingers. Often, Nakoa wonders if he imagines the lingering.

He doesn’t question it. But the stark difference between sober and drunk feels like night and day, and Nakoa would rather not.

If Rem asks, the answer is yes. But Nakoa prefers not giving him the opportunity to ask. It’s easier to deny him.

Sometime in the night, Rem wakes and vomits over the side of the bed. Nakoa m, eyes heavy with sleep, says nothing. Presses himself against Rem’s back when he’s done, wracking his brain for a song. Settles in on “Friday I’m in Love” after he decides The Clash might be too fast.

His forehead is sweaty against Rem’s shoulder blades. But he doesn’t pull away, keeps humming for Rem well after the song is through, continuing with Modern English and Simple Minds.

“You don't have to do this.”

Nakoa doesn’t falter in his humming, just drops a hand over Rem’s waist and tugs him in.

He pressed his mouth against Rem’s skin, not like a kiss, bur as much like one as he dares. He hums, holds Rem’s denial behind his teeth, doesn’t answer.

-

“Clutch,” Rem says, pressing on Nakoa’s left knee. “Middle is brake. Right’s gas.” He taps the gear shift. “So, driving. Ease off the gas a bit, onto the clutch, shift, off the clutch, onto the gas.”

Nakoa blinks. His heart beats, strong and steady in his chest. “And to move?”

Rem’s voice holds its tone when he speaks, walks Nakoa through the steps. The car stalls under Nakoa’s guidance the first three times, but Rem pushes him forward, encouragement heavy in his words, and Nakoa’s chest swells with pride when he can finally drive his way across the parking lot.

They traded in the junker for this piece of shit, more torn up than the last. It smells like weed and vomit and pine trees, but it gets better mileage, and the speakers aren't blown out, and Rem won fifteen hundred in a bet on the game two nights ago.

The Earth feels less like Jello beneath Nakoa's feet.

Rem grips his thigh when Nakoa turns through the parking lot, pleased as he lets out a yell, and—oh.

Nakoa kills the engine, and the car comes to a slow stop. “Fuck.”

But Rem waves it away. “It’s great! Shit, I burnt out Billi’s clutch the first time I tried—” But at the mention of his mother, Rem’s expression falls. He shoves open the door, says, “Enough for today.”

They’re in Utah. Have been for a few days, after replacing the windshield in Colorado, after Jenna.

Yesterday, Nakoa got inexplicably homesick, stared at a payphone for five minutes, and convinced himself not to call.

Barely.

They settle into each other’s seats. The beauty of this van, Nakoa realizes, is that it isn’t; an old, clunker of a beast, with the back seats torn out and a sunroof modded in. Except for showers, they don’t need motels anymore.

Their trip got a hell of a lot cheaper. And, heading into LA, Nakoa’s not sure how far their money will go.

Relieved to be out of the driver’s seat, back under Rem’s practiced hand, Nakoa reaches for the cigarettes and lights up.

His voice echoes. “Think we can find a mattress?”

“One that isn’t covered in shit or blood?” Rem shrugs. “Guess we’ll find out.”

They do; kind of. They definitely find the mattress. An old, stained old thing from an old woman in the city, who’s upgrading for her and her husband. She takes one look at the van, one look at Nakoa and Rem, and pats Rem’s hand with a twinkle in her eye. “I expect you boys will get plenty of use out of it.”

She winks at Nakoa, and Nakoa offers her an uncertain smile. Rem looks like his head is going to blow off if she doesn’t let go of it.

The manhandle the mattress into the back of the van after Nakoa hands over the twenty. The mattress isn’t stained, isn’t old, but it’s floral and weak and smells of mothballs, and when Nakoa shuts the door to the passenger seat, it already reeks of old perfume in the van.

Rem sits next to him, quiet and pensive. Doesn’t start the van.

Nakoa waits, but ten minutes and he’s still sitting there. “What?”

“What’d she mean by that?”

By… what? “Who?”

“Getting use out of it. That’s not fucked up to you?”

For the— “Rem, she probably meant with girls.”

“…Right.”

“You’re really worried about what some random old woman has to say about shit?” Nakoa’s not exactly out and proud, but this isn’t under his skin. Rem picks at what’s left of the polish on his nails, his body tense and unforgiving. “Rem.”

“Never mind.”

He’s ashamed, then; that’s what that means. His mothers, he has mothers, and he still feels shame. Nakoa’s own family makes jokes at the expense of people like them, has told him that if one of their children was queer they’d set them straight, and Rem’s the one sitting here worried about what this old woman thinks of them.

But it’s not anger that courses through Nakoa’s veins, thinking that. Instead, confusion muddles his brain. He tries to think of something, anything, to make him feel better, but there’s nothing. Not words, anyway. Nakoa licks his lips, he’s about to suggest that they go to a park, or an abandoned parking garage or something and they can christen the new mattress, but Rem puts the van gear and drives off.

They hit up a department store for the sheets, and Nakoa spends twenty minutes glaring at on-sale camping gear trying to find sleeping bags that don’t look like shit while Rem searches for pillows, and Nakoa feels the weight of his remaining money in his pocket like a brick.

He’s not sure how much is left. Between the van, the motels, food, Nakoa’s sure it’s dwindling. Rem says nothing, just brings home dinner, whiskey, less and less every day.

 Nakoa buys the blankets. What else are they supposed to do—go back home?

They find a place on an empty road, far from the city, that night, coyotes howling in the distance, a small campfire built out of the back end of the van. Rem hangs his legs off the van, stares up at the sky. A bottle of whiskey sits between his legs. Bowie plays softly in the background.

Nakoa’s not sure of the last time he’d been this happy. In Utah, of all places, so far from home that Withervale feels like a separate fucking planet.

In the clear night, the glow of the crackling fire, Nakoa wonders if Rem would agree. If he seems happy, or if he is happy. Rem never fucking talks to him, tells him to fuck off if Nakoa gets too close. If he missteps. He’s a jackass.

Nakoa’s afraid of how much he likes him anyway. If, once they get to LA, if Rem will enjoy it. If he’ll enjoy it too much.

He reaches for the whiskey, pleased by the noise Rem makes as he goes for it. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

Rem’s laugh comes stark and surprising, echoes across the empty space, and Nakoa wants to kiss him until he feels that warmth through his entire body. “Probably the only thing I can get up right now.”

Snorting, Nakoa lifts the whiskey to his lips, savors the taste, the taste, and heat that pools in his stomach. “This is,” he says, but doesn’t know what he wants to say. Captivated by the stars, by the scenery. But Rem’s quiet, comforting presence beside him—

Nakoa wants to kiss him. Press him into the flowery, old mattress behind them and undress him, kiss down his chest and blow him, press into him until Nakoa’s name rests on his lips soft and tense. Until Rem clenches his teeth and his groan comes from his chest and.

Fuck. He wants, so much, to make Rem feel so good that he forgets what the world has done to him. 

“I’ve thought about living off the land before. Away from the city. Own a little farm or something.” An orchard. Some goats. Chickens, the modern dinosaurs they are, and Nakoa presses his finger against the ankylosaurus tattoo on his side. Thinks back to the artist that did it for him, briefly, and what he’s doing.

If he remembers Nakoa at all.

“Get the fuck away from people,” Rem says. He sounds tired, now, drunk. He hops from the van and kicks dirt over the fire. It’s dark enough that Nakoa can’t make out Rem’s features without direct light.

“Yeah.” But not Rem. “Dunno. Don’t wanna get kicked in the head, either.” Doesn’t want to give Rem up. He holds that deep inside his chest, though, locked away where he hopes Rem won’t find it, where Nakoa himself won’t be tempted to look.

When Rem says nothing, Nakoa crawls up the mattress, knees scraping the cool metal of the floor of the van. He tugs one of the sleeping bags over his body, presses his face into his pillow and sighs.

He’s not sure when Rem shuts the door and joins him, but Rem lies there, on his back, until Nakoa’s loopy with exhaustion and alcohol, and on the verge of sleep. Nakoa hears him say, “I—”

And then Nakoa passes out.

[0bfvscate]

Halloway’s Night Out

Fanfiction for @nothwell‘s sequel to Mr. Warren’s Profession, Throw His Heart Over.

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Alcohol use, mild sexual content, references to violence and drug use

Summary: John Halloway celebrates selling his most recent, and most controversial painting, The Fall of Icarus, with dinner and wine, but true to form, neither Halloway nor his dear friend Cyril Graves manage to do anything in a quiet or orderly way.

The reception to the painting was mixed. Some called it a masterful use of technique, others an aesthetic triumph. Others called it a debasement of ancient myth, a clear excuse to indulge in homosexual tendencies, and an affront to good taste. Halloway heard people call him both a genius and a monster for displaying the vaunted Icarus as a scarred and beaten man, and felt a bit thrilled to invoke such strong reaction.

Until he saw Warren in the crowd. Warren was a quiet man with quiet habits who preferred his privacy. Warren’s eyes darted around the room as he squeezed through the crowd toward the painting, trying to reach it without making any sign that he was there. Halloway came to the sudden realization he’d brought a very private friend to an event celebrating his naked, painted form. Halloway could see him struggling to be invisible, squirming in his suit when he bumped in to someone, apologized, and saw their eyes flicker over his scars.

Halloway jumped through the crowd. “Warren!”

His voice did not have its intended effect. Instead of being a life raft thrown into open water, it seemed to act like a bullet at a hart.

“Come here,” Halloway called, struggling with the tools at his disposal for some anchor to ground his model. “Let me shake your hand—find you a glass—no? Very well, as you wish—but do allow me to introduce you to my friend—Mr Talbot—the proprietor of this fine establishment.”

—and reached behind himself to extract one Mr. Edward Talbot, art patron, critic and former tailor. He’d inherited a strong business sense, an eye for color, and a tailor’s shop from his father, which he then liquidated and converted into a gallery for the sake of art.

“How do you do.” said Mr Talbot.

Aubrey replied in kind, but with mounting meekness as Talbot’s eyes widened with recognition. Talbots’ customary congratulations to the model froze on his lips and a yawning silence stretched in its place.

“Mr Warren,” said Halloway, clapping his free hand upon Aubrey’s shoulder, “is the celebrated model.”

“Indeed,” said Mr Talbot. “I thank you, sir, for making such a splendid work possible. Your visage is a most inspiring one. Forgive me for abandoning you so soon, but I’m afraid business calls me elsewhere. Good evening, Mr Warren. It was a pleasure meeting you. I hope to see you again soon.”

He gave them each a nod and vanished into the crowd as easily as a ghost, where his absence was filled with Halloway’s annoyance. Talbot failed to offer Warren any comfort, and left him still and fragile and unsteady as a newborn fawn. If only Warren drank, Halloway would have given him some liquid courage.

“Talbot thinks we might have an offer on the painting this very night,” Halloway blurted out.

“That’s good,” Aubrey replied, though his uncertainty turned the remark into a question.

“It’s very good,” Halloway confirmed. “Better than I’d hoped—though no less than I feel it deserves, if I may be honest at the risk of being arrogant. Have you seen it yet?”

When Aubrey admitted he’d not yet glimpsed the painting hanging in the gallery, Halloway bid him follow, and carved a path through the crowd to the wall. Every wall in the gallery bore artworks from floor to ceiling, but Icarus Fallen seemed to have a glow all its own. Or did Halloway imagine it? Did it draw his eye for the piece of himself he recognized within it, or was there something universal in its composition? Did it have that unmistakable spark of beauty that every artist chased, or was it just a nice painting that he was proud of?

Aubrey craned his neck upward towards the painting, and for a moment, he seemed at peace.

“What do you think?” Halloway asked.

“It’s… impressive,” Aubrey said at last.

Halloway smiled, but before he could say more, a hand clapped him on the shoulder.

“Halloway,” the man said. “Tell me more about this recent painting. Tell me where you found the nerve.”

And with that, the crowd drew him back in, where he was in his element.

By ten the gallery was shut up, the champagne was gone, and Richard Talbot was using Halloway’s coat and hat as a lion tamer used a chair.

“You ought to apologize to my friend Warren,” Halloway said. Graves had his fingers in the back of his jacket and was trying to pull him toward the exit. “He’s a very handsome man, you know. Very kind, very gentle. He’s sort of like a deer.”

“For God’s sake, John,” Graves grumbled. “The event is over and we’re starving. If we stay here any longer the party will end.”

“I know, I’m coming. And I’m not upset with you, I’m just a bit protective of the poor chap. He’s like a deer.”

“I understand completely.” Mr. Talbot said, advancing on him with the coat and hat.

“He saved an entire factory. That’s why he’s got those scars. Have I told you that?”

“Yes.” Talbot said.

“You’re drunk.” Graves said.

“You’re drunk.”

“I think you’d both do well to have a hot dinner and a nice cup of coffee.” Mr. Talbot said, taking another step forward with the hat and coat.

“Oh, yes. Splendid.” Graves answered.

“I just want you to know—“

“I know, John,” Mr. Talbot said, finally saddling Halloway with his own coat and hat and giving him a gentle pat. “I know.”

And then they were out in the street, unsteadily climbing into the hansom. They collapsed on top of one another and awoke some twenty minutes later feeling like watersodden logs, but after food, coffee, and yet more liquor, they both felt as fresh as spring rain.

“To Icarus!” Graves cried. “To a man who died a noble death, in the pursuit of absolute, ideal beauty. A man who stretched out his hand to touch the sun and felt its fire burning. Here’s to a man who flew out of prison and fell to the sea.”

“Now I’m not arguing against the technical skill,” said Hainsley, the editor and founder of his own magazine. “It is clearly a beautifully painted piece. What I am arguing against is the choice to mutilate Icarus.”

“He fell out of the sky and smashed on the rocky earth,” Halloway argued. “If I wanted to mutilate him, I would have done much worse then a bruising.”

“Exactly. That’s my point. You can’t argue for realism, since true realism would reduce the painting to an unrecognizable, pornographic mess. If Icarus Fallen were pure veritism it would hardly be a painting at all. Your choices were weighed accordingly, which is every artist’s right, but I respectfully disagree with your decisions.”

“Well, sir, I respectfully disagree with yours. Icarus has been portrayed in art for thousands of years, and I for one am tired of seeing unending galleries full of heroes in unblemished death throes.”

“God, are we going to sit at this table forever?” Asked Forsyth from the other end. “I’ve been stuffed in this jacket all day.”

Next they went to the Catullus club, descending on it like a flock of bats if bats waddled on foot after too much food and wine. The club was a relatively sedate place at that time of night, except for a few private parties bursting with exclamations and loud thuds from behind locked doors. They took the main room and filled it with noise and smoke as the company and the alcohol brought them all a new burst of energy. The staff, noticing the celebratory nature of their party, circled them like moths.

Halloway had a very pretty toff sitting on the arm of his chair while Graves proudly recounted his triumphs. The toff was a bit too pretty for Halloway, incessantly barring eyelashes he’d enhanced with kohl and cheeks darkened with rouge. Hainsley was sitting on the other side of the chair and salivating up at the pretty toff. Halloway, eventually, retrieved his arm from the toff and used it to wrap around Graves.

“Couldn’t we move the pronouncements to a private room?” He asked.

Graves, frozen in the act of giving a speech, took his time to arrive at John’s point. “I’m not averse, if you don’t mind leaving you adoring entourage.”

“I’d prefer it.” He admitted quietly.

Graves raised his eyebrows, but got out of his chair without comment. “Very well. Excuse us, gentlemen.”

The orderly at the welcome desk gave them a key to a room on the second floor. By the time they arrived, towels, lubricant and a clean water basin were laid out for them by the bed.

“Didn’t that pretty young gentlemen interest you at all?” Graves asked, pulling off his shoes.

“God, no,” Halloway answered. “Although if you’ve a fancy—“

“Hmm. Do I? Well, I’d certainly give it a try. But why not? He seemed very partial to you.”

“Shame I’m not much for willowy boys.” Halloway grumbled.

Graves laughed. “So it’s another question for aesthetics! Tell me, John, what disinterests you so in beauty?”

“‘Beauty’ isn’t a predetermined factor,” Halloway declared, giving up on untying his tie and just pulling it apart. “If it were, the Asthetes wouldn’t have anything to talk about.”

“Isn’t it? A truth doesn’t become less true for having facets, nor are gems less expensive for them. If beauty were in the eye of the holder, a painting could not be celebrated. As an artist, you must admit that beauty is generally agreed upon.”

“As an artist, I can tell you now that beauty is a trend that comes and goes,” he struggled to pull off his socks and eventually let himself fall forward, onto the bed. “No one today would paint a Rueben.”

“But there is still something enduring about their beauty.” Graves mused. He was stretched out in his chair, waistcoat unbuttoned and only one sock off. He seemed to have forgotten he was unbuttoning his pants.

Halloway jumped up on the bed and flipped over to work on his pants. “Alright, let’s you and I discuss the female form.”

“My, you are in a rare mood.” Graves mumbled.

“Exactly— Exactly!” Halloway cried, triumphant, standing on the bed in his johns and shirt. “We’d never deny a woman her beauty, but would you take one to bed?”

Graves made a few noncommittal noises.

“What about the most beautiful woman at the opera? What if I were to introduce you to Miss Virginia Stendhal, who sat for my celebrated painting of Persephone?”

“Oh but that brings us back to the point, my dear, which is that people find Ms. Stendhal beautiful but pity her for the sitting!”

“No, my point is that she’s beautiful, but neither of us would fuck her.”

“You put the poor woman in an unhappy marriage,” Graves pouted. “Persephone, the goddess of spring, the personification of the bloom of youth, staring at Hades as if wishing she could put him in his own pit. What a waste!”

“But why?” Halloway cried. “Why can’t I? I haven’t done anything wrong. I love those stories just as much as anyone else, and you can’t argue that no one sees them as I do, because people have told me they do!”

Graves was laughing, shaking his chair with quiet mirth. “You see, John, this is why I admire your work. You’ll do what you like and stamp your foot when people tell you they don’t like it.”

“Oh, you’re just mocking me.” Halloway said. He wobbled, fell to his knees, then landed face down on the bed. The darkness there was warm, soft and inviting, and he was in the process of exploring deeper when Graves pulled him upright. He sat on the edge of wakefulness, judging the benefits of each side of consciousness, when Graves tipped the scale. He kissed him, cupping the back of Halloway’s head in his hands. He was so warm that Halloway let him carry him fully into wakefulness, pressing his tongue against Graves’ lips until they opened and let him explore. When they’d gotten all their clothes off he pressed his chest to Graves’ and felt his heart beating on the other side. The rasp of skin and short, dark hairs tingling over his body made him flush with heat, but when he reached between Graves’ legs he found his cock still soft.

“Give me a minute.” Graves promised, pushing John onto his back. His lips tickled his skin as he kissed down Halloway’s collarbone and into the sensitive skin between his thighs, but though desire pumped through his blood his little soldier was too drunk for a full salute.

They tried a few more times, and sometime before three Halloway was startled awake by a sudden knocking on the door.

“Halloway! Graves!” Someone shouted. Halloway waited for them to announce themselves or explain what they wanted, but there was just silence on the other side. There was shuffling, then quiet, disappointed muttering and an embarrassed retreat.

“Who was that?” Graves mumbled, lifting his head up. He made a face and scraped a hair off his tongue, then slowly lifted a bit farther off the bed and took in their surrounded. “Where are we? And, good god— what are these hideous statues?”

“I think,” Halloway said, careful not to make any concrete proclamations in light of his irrational condition. “That we have abandoned our party.”

“Nonesense. We’ve only been gone a few minutes.”

Halloway searched the room for a clock, and was relieved to find a small one on the mantle. He got up and squinted at it, but although he could see both hands, neither figure shared information with him.

“I think we’ve been gone a bit longer then that.” He said tentatively.

Now it was Graves’ turn to stop and think, churning through the butter that was once his brain for all the pieces of the night to lay out in order.

“No,” he said, but that was just a reflex, come from the certainty that Cyril Graves did not abandon a party. As it dawned on him that that was indeed what he had done, the finger resting on his chin migrated north and pushed nervously into his upper lip. “Oh.”

“I think we abandoned the party, Cyril.”

“Oh,” Graves said, then got to work collecting his clothes. “Well, let’s resolve that.”

They abandoned their futile efforts to put the room back together and stopped by the front desk to drop off their key. But when they reached the sitting room, it was empty. Nothing remained of their party except for crystal cups with rings of liquid, and one cigar still smoking in an ashtray. As they stared at the ribbon of smoke rising up, they heard a giggle behind them. Glancing over their shoulder, they saw the pretty toff from before wrapped in a curtain, trying to hide but shaking with mirth.

He explained when they approached; “When you two disappeared, the others went to look for you, and that became a game of hide and seek. Right now it’s Hainsley seeking, and he’s terrific. He gets so angry when he can’t find anyone.”

To prove it, the toff encouraged them to hide behind a large potted plant. Within minutes Hainsley came in and began to turn the sitting room over, cursing the whole time. The toff was helpless with laughter, covering his mouth with both hands to smother the hiccups and gasps that escaped. Hainsley caught the echo of a cough and lifted his head with alertness, as dogs did during hunts. Slowly he inched forward, and pounced on a couch at the edge of the sitting room. He paused, as if checking his success, then threw the pillows aside and cursed again.

The toff was helpless with laughter.

Halloway straightened up and stride towards the editor. “Hainsley!”

The man jumped. “Halloway! There you are! We’ve been looking for you for ages. Don’t tell me you lost Graves on your way back from Fairyland.”

“Of course not,”Graves said, leaning against the potted plant with an air of ennui. “But what are you doing to that poor couch?”

“The bastards all thought it’d be funny to hide after you went missing.”

“Or perhaps they are the ones whisked off the Fairyland.” Graves mused.

“Anyways, all the servants have gone to bed and I need another drink.”

“Perhaps we could use another drink.” Halloway agreed. His poor, pickled brain was trying to shut up for the night, but like a bicycle with the breaks cut he could only keep moving.

As they were making up their minds of where to go and how they could get another drink so late at night, members of their party popped one by one out of doorways and down the stairs.

“Hainsley, you spoilsport!”

“Are we getting a night-cap?”

“Do you know of a place that will still be open?”

“No,” Graves said. “Regrettably, we’ll have to go home for hospitality.”

It was no longer the blackest night, but the blackest morning. Halloway was speculating on the change in atmosphere that seperated morning from night in the wee hours. Was it the dew in the air that changed the texture of the darkness, or simply the knowledge that dawn was approaching? Or was it instead the weight of his body on his mind, dragging just a step behind his alert consciousness, like a cranky child?

“Here we are. At last,” Cyril said, banging on the front door. “Open up! Come on, we don’t have all night.”

But the door did not open. Soon the whole party took up a chorus of the demand and chanted it like a drinking song.

“Open up! We don’t have all night!”

Lights glowed behind the drawn curtains and the door was abruptly opened. The party poured into the foyer, still chanting.

“Open up! We don’t have all night!”

Someone clipped John’s nose in their clumsy effort to remove their jacket, and another fell on his back as they were trying to untie shoes.

“What in heaven’s name is going on?” Demanded a voice.

Graves was trying to reason with the sober individual. “Now, listen, would you turn away an old friend for celebrating the triumph of an artistic master? This is a triumph. Triumphant. We are triumphant!”

“For god’s sake, sit down before you fall down.” Answered the sober tyrant, and orders for bedclothes and water were answered with the drumming of feet which seemed to circle Halloway before entering his skull and stamping around the dome.

“This is not a triumph,” said a second sober voice. “This is tragedy. You look like a platoon of wounded soldiers limping home.”

“Oh, come, have a nightcap with us.” Hainsley slurred.

“You’ve finished off the night, there’s nothing to cap.”

“A toast to our host!” Shouted a different voice, and when John turned to identify it, discovered the toff from the club had come out with them.

“You need to go to bed. You’ll all feel like death in the morning.”     “Oh, thank god. A piano! At last, we’ll have music!” Forsyth had made it into another room, plopped down on to the piano bench, and begun playing a waltz as slurred as his speech, alone, in the dark.

“No-- no! Absolutely not!”

“Gentlemen!” Cried a voice. John turned towards it and beheld a women on the stairs. At first, he mistook her slender, loosely-draped silhouette for Grecian garb, and the woman at her elbow as some Olympian attendant. But then the weights and pulleys in his brain settled into balance and he recognized it as a nightgown. “Welcome! And congratulations!”

The whole party gave out a cheer.

“You all look like you’ve had a fabulous night!”

Another rousing cheer.

“I propose a toast!”

Their party lost their minds. There was applause and stamping of feet.

“One last toast to the hero of tonight, Mr. John Halloway!”

She was like a priest, and they her feverish followers. John felt tears prick his eyes. A servant appeared and put a glass in his hand, with something cool and sweet. It tasted like a fruit juice, and for the life of him he could not settle on the flavor of the alcohol. It was very delicate, and mixed perfectly with the cocktail’s foundation.

“We drink to Artemis, and she brings us ambrosia!” He cried.

“Fine lady, I’d say you should sit for Halloway, but not a soul here can predict how the results will look!” Hainsley brayed, and everyone fell over themselves laughing.

She bowed graciously. “Gentlemen, my house is yours. I place my servants at your disposal. If any of you should need anything, you need only let them know. I beg you to forgive me of my absence.”

The party made a loud, collective noise, but the tone of their response was impossible to decipher. Not even Halloway could tell if he was disappointed that she was leaving them or begging her to do as she saw fit. She, her attendant, and the two masters of the house left them in the sitting room, among the pillows and blankets that were brought down when they first arrived. The toff was fast asleep, curled around a folded blanket like a child. Hainsley, after sitting down and having some of whatever substance was in his glass, was frozen in place, his mouth hanging open.

“What fine people,” Graves said. He was still upright, still smiling his knowing smile, but there was something off-balance about his posture. “What a wonderful night. Where’s Forsyth?”     They discovered Forsyth asleep on the piano.

“They act like they’ve never had a drink before.” Graves muttered.

“Let’s leave them and have another drink,” Halloway said. “That cocktail she gave us was wonderful. What did you think of it?”     “Something with apple.” Graves said pensively.

“She said we could ask for another. Didn’t she leave some of her people with us?”

They checked the rooms and the hallway around the sitting room, but everywhere was dark and empty.

“I can’t see a thing. Where’s a candle?”

“I can’t find any,” Graves said, slapping countertops along the wall for something to light. There was a clang and a bump and a series of heavy metal objects fell to the floor as Graves cursed. “How the devil did they get the lights on and off so fast? I can’t even smell the candle smoke.”

“Perhaps it’s electric?”

“Where are the lamps?”

Halloway tripped on a lurking ottoman and sprawled across the rug. Graves made a show of disgust as he pulled him up.

“John, please.”

“As if I chose to fall!”

Abruptly they found themselves back in the piano room with Forsyth, still peacefully asleep on the bench.

“Witchcraft!” Halloway cried. “She plans to turn us into pigs!”

Graves scoffed. “We must have gone the full circuit of the house. The staff must be asleep.”

“What do they expect us to do?” Halloway cried.

“Sleep, I’d expect,” Graves said. He put his hand between the curtains and lifted up a corner. “The sun is coming up.”

“No.”

Graves stepped back from the window to offer his view. True to his word, there were the pink clouds rising in the east, the red light of dawn coloring the pale sky. They  pushed back the curtains and stood in the early dawn light as the sun rose. The air under the curtain had the same chill as the outdoors, whereas behind it, in the sitting room, was still warm and dark and full of the even sounds of sleep.

“We should get to bed.” Halloway said. They joined the rest of their party on the floor of the sitting room, sober enough to spread out the cushions and blankets to make their bed. Without their shoes, coats or shirts they had a very comfortable bed, and Halloway drifted quickly off to sleep.

Halloway woke up with a headache as fierce as if he’d been beaten. His tongue was so dry it felt swollen in his mouth. He could barely open his eyes. As consciousness overtook him, and pain overtook his body, all he could manage was a helpless groan.

“I thought you’d say as much,” said a familiar voice. “Sit up, we brought you breakfast.”

Sitting up was a tall order to fulfill. Halloway only managed to roll over, and when he did was blinded with a flash of sunlight bright enough to pierce straight through his eyelids.

“Come on.” Coaxed the voice.

Now on his back, he had both arms at his disposal to lift him up, and he managed to struggle himself into a sitting position. Warren and Althorp were standing before him, to Halloway’s relief looking more indulgent than furious. The others from their party were sitting up around him, their collars and hair askew and each looking as glassy and tired as Halloway felt. The ground seemed to be tilting beneath him.

Three trays were placed on the ground of the sitting room, in easy grabbing distance to the drunkards. On each tray was a pile of toast, peppermint tea, butter and a little cold chicken, shredded into easy bites.

“How did we get here?” Halloway asked.

“You would have to tell us.” Althorp said.

“Why did we…” Halloway began, but trailed off as his train of thought left him, evaporating like water in the sun.

“Who was the woman?” Hainsley asked. “Who are you? Where are we?”

“This is my good friend Sir Lindsey Althorp.” Graves said, leaning forward to take a dry piece of toast. “The two women were his wife and sister, Lady Emmeline Althorp and Lady Rowena Althorp.”

“Where are we?” The toff asked.

“Halloway, what happened last night? What brought you here?”

“I can’t for the life of me remember,” Halloway admitted. “We were going to have one last drink and go to bed.”

“We’re glad to help, but don’t do that again.” Warren said.

Halloway grimaced and gave them a toast with his peppermint tea.

“Wonder where my hansom is.” Graves muttered.

“London, I’d expect.” Althorp said.

“Naturally.” Graves responded bitterly.

There was an uncomfortable silence. Very carefully, Halloway put his fears into words.

“Where is London?”

“England?” Althorp answered tentatively.

“Not here,” Warren said. “You’re in Manchester.”

“What!?” Halloway cried. “How in the world did we coordinate a train ride!?”

“That’s what we wondered, as well.” Warren remarked.

“You said they had space for all of us.” Hainsley said.

“This is the beauty of the intoxicated mind,” Graves said serenely. “We are capable of so much, without our inhibitions to hold us back. Gautier wrote extensively on the visions he saw while under the influence of hashish--”     “I hope you weren’t smoking that, last night.” Althorp said with all the sternness of a disapproving parent.

“I hope you don’t need to get that drunk again to find your way back.” Warren said.

“I suppose I could impose on your hospitality a bit longer for a hansom back to my lodgings.” Halloway said. He still couldn’t remember getting on a train with Graves or the others, but it was becoming easier to see why he would argue the party move to Manchester while he was at his drunkest. Despite all the travelling he did, Manchester was still home. Manchester had all the comforting amenities a drunken Halloway would crave, and a drunken Halloway could wax poetic on their benefits until an equally drunken group of men were happy to follow him across the country.

In fact, of all of them, the toff was the only one with any difficulty getting home.

“My mother will be worried.” He said.

“Tell her you were out with friends.”     “I think she’ll expect that. She’ll say not to worry about her, but she does for me, and I do for her.”

As Halloway was putting himself together, smoothing down his hair with a little of Althorp’s pomade, Warren approached him.

“I’ve never seen you like that before last night,” he said quietly. “Do you drink yourself into that condition often?”

“No, not often. Last night was a celebration.”

“I didn’t like to see you that way, Halloway,” Warren admitted. “You weren’t the man I respected.”

Halloway gave him a hard look, drying up any temperance speech that might be forthcoming. “Warren, until my drunken behavior overtakes my life, I’ll thank you not to proselytize.”

“I’m not proselytizing. I’m pointing out to you that you bought a train ticket in a state of total unconsciousness. That you’re safe and sound in our house this morning is pure luck. I’m telling you, as your friend, that drinking yourself unconscious isn’t a habit to make!”

Halloway sighed. It was unfair to treat Warren like a nagging puritan in the wake of troubling behavior. Even Halloway had to admit that last night could have taken a turn for the worst at any point, and he was in Warren and Althorp’s debt for providing them with a safe place to sleep for the night. If they’d forced them to sleep in the horse stables, no one would have blamed them-- not even Halloway.

“You’re right, of course. I was a bit out of control, and I can’t dismiss my behavior just by saying that I don’t do it often. I ought to be more careful in future,” Halloway said. A smile slowly overtook his face. “But it was quite a night.”

Warren gave him a smile in return.

He walked Halloway to the front door, where Graves was waiting to drive with him into town.

“Halloway, I have a final question about art,” Warren said. “Do you ever miss your paintings after they’ve gone?”

“No.” Halloway said.

Warren seemed taken aback by his certainty. “Never?”

“I have better paintings to make.”

Warren was quiet for a moment, and then slowly a genuinely cheerful smile spread across his face.

“Naturally.”

Halloway gave him a warm handshake. “We’ll meet in town, shall we? I’ll send a card around.”

“I’d like that.”

[zmayadw]

Hello to all :)

Time for the next part!

Wish you all a wonderful evening! :)

CALL OF THE RAVEN

PART 13

We continued enjoying our time, as Aurora got more crowded with people. At some point Cleo showed up, coming to say hi to us, as she was here to meet with Hannah and the others . She had one drink with us before going to sit with them, telling how she is bussy helping her mom at the Gates of Hope with redecorating and other stuff, but she hopes all will be done soon, so we can finaly meet in peace. As it got more crowded with people, Phil was busy and also didnt have much time to have fun with us. Jessy was in a quite good mood, joking and drinking, it was nice seeing her like that.The music playing was good. There was a mixture of everything, from 80's till present day. A song started and Jessy grabbed my hand „Ohhh, lets dance, Maya, i love this song!“ I had no chance to say anything, as Jessy lead me half way to the dance floor already. She started dancing, and i couldnt do anythign but join her. And we had fun. I needed this, i tought, just some simple fun with good friends. Dan joined us from time to time, showing off his killer dancing skills. Phil was passing by us few times, going to one of the booths or tables, always winking at me with that devilish grin of his. One of the times, as Jessy and me wer dancing Phil came from behind me, wraping his free hand arround my waist and squeezing agains me. We just moved with the rhythm of the music for a while, before he groaned at my ear „Arghh, as much as i would love to stay here with you gorgeous, but work is calling.“ I grined at him, as he let go of me slowely „Aww, next time then.“ As much as i liked it, i hoped Jake didnt see this. I wouldnt want him to get the wrong idea about Phil and me. I really wanted to know where i stand with him, but this noncomunication between us wasnt helping. Lily told me to be patient, but as i told Jessy, my patiance is running short. I leaned to Jessy telling her i need to go sit down for a while, and we returned at the bar. Dan and Thomas wer there talking, and both got up from the stools letting us sit as we came. Thomas smiled at us „You two really got it going on tonight.“ He turned to Dan saying teasingly „You better be careful,man, and keep her close to you“ He pointed at Jessy „They wer smoking hot on the floor, dont let someone steel her.“ Jessy grined at Thomas „Let him sweat a little, he might appriciate me more then.“ „Awww, babe, dont be cruel, you know i appriciate you.“ Dan told her, being dramatic as always, making a puppy face. „Ohh, shus it, you big goof, and lets dance.“ She told him, taking him by the hand to the dance floor. Thomas turned to me „So, can i presume all is good between Lily and you now?“ „I guess you can.“ I told him, and he smiled „Thats good to heare.“ A waiter came with two drinks, handing them to Thomas. „Guess then soon we can all get together again, without any drama.“ „Definatly!“ i said, smiling. He smiled back „Good. Well, have fun, Maya, see you arround.“ I waved at the waiter asking for a mineral water, i was really thursty from all the dancing. I checked my phone, it was after 3, and i noticed a missed call sign. I opened the call log, and when i saw it was another of those hidden numbers, my mood darkened all of a sudden. What is going on here, i touhgt, thess calls are starting to get me worried. Jessy and Dan returned from dancing, and i decided i had enough for the night. This thing shook me up good, and i doubted i could enjoy the evening anymore. I told Jessy i'd be going, to wich she protested a bit, but hugged me and said to call her for coffee any time im up for it. I took my things, waving them goodby. As i was near the entrance, i saw Phil, so i waved at him, he winked and made a phone gesture with his hand, suggesting we'll be talking soon.

As i left the Aurora, cool night air washed over me, so i put my jacket on. I got to my car,  just leaning on the side of it, my mind still thinking of those damn calls. They are starting to freak me out a bit, and that sinister feeling started to creep up to me again. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, when a voice said „Are you ok?“ I opened my eyes, seeing Jake standing infront of me. I managed to barely make a smile at him „Yeah, im fine.“ He was looking at me, those deep eyes scaning every inch of my face, like he knew what i said wasnt true. „Just tired, i guess.“ I added, giving him a bit bigger smile, wich seemed to make him belive me. He leaned on the car next to me, and we just stood there in silence for a while. I get restless every time im close to him, my hands itch to just grab him and pull him closer. „You look good, by the way.“ He said after a while, giving me a shy look. His words snaped me from my fantasizing, and  i smiled and winked at him „Thanks, glad you noticed.“ „Ofcourse i did, i do have eyes, you know.“ He said teasingly. I turned towards him making a gesture of bevilderment as i said „Oh my, he can joke!“ „I try my best.“ He said, smiling. Oh that beautiful smile, i tought again, making me smile, too. „You going back in?“ he asked. „No.“ I started „I'm actualy contemplating should i walk or drive back to the motel.“ „And how's that going for you?“ he asked, raising an eyebrow at me. „Well, considering im still standing here doing non of the above, i would say not good.“ I replied, sighing desperatly. He chuckled at me „Hmm, well, how about I drive you back to the motel?“ I looked at him surprised, not really expecting it „You would do that?“ He smiled shyly at me „I would“ pausing a bit, before adding „For you.“ My heart started beeting like crazy, and i could feel heet comming to my cheeks. This night really is interesting. „Umm, well, sure, i'd like that.“ I told him. „But, you dont mind walking back again?“ i asked. „No, its fine.“ „Alright then, lets go.“ I told him, taking my keys out of my purse handing them to him. Our palms touched as i gave him the keys, and our eyes met. He moved his hand slowly away, taking the key, giving me goosebumps. I barely glued myself of the car to let him get in. I got in myself as he started the car and we drow from the Auroras parking. It wouldnt take us long to the motel, and i wished the ride wasnt that short. I noticed he was driving slower then you would normaly drive, as if sharing my toughts himself. I felt nervous, my head was blank, i didnt know what to say. All of a sudden, a tought crossed my mind. „Hey, Jake, can i ask you something?“ „Sure.“ He said, sounding relieved the awkward silence got broken. „Well, i just tought, i havent had a chance to ask you before. Wern't you in some kind of trouble, if im not mistaken?“ i paused before continuing. „I mean, we never discussed it any further. And since you're here at Duskwood for quite some time now already, i was just wondering what's up with all that.“ „You're right“ he started, glancing shortly at me, focusing back on the road „Short version: lets say i made a deal with some people, making sure i'll be left at peace.“ „A deal“ i started „You didnt threaten anyone, or something like that?“ „What?“ he said, „Ofcourse not! What made you ask that?“ „Hey, its a legit question.“ I told him, rising my hands up. „You can understand why a tought like that might cross my mind.“ He was silent for a moment before saying „Ok, fair enough. But, no, i didnt threaten anyone, if that makes you feel better.“ „It does. I just dont want for things to get complex for you again.“ I said, adding after a little pause, my voice getting a bit sadder „Or you dissapearing again.“ He looked at me with such tenderness, slowing the drive even more now „Dont worry, Maya, i'm not going anywhere.“ I smiled at him „Good.“ He turned his head, focusing on the road again, and i realized we came at the motel. He parked close to my room. Neither of us was eager to leave the car, so we just sat there in silence for a moment. I had a felling he wanted to say something, but wasnt sure about it. I finaly managed to force myself to leave the car. I was about to pull the door handle, when Jake suddenly said „Wait.“ I turned towards him. „Can i ask you something now?“ „Sure“ i said, even tho i had a feeling i wouldnt really like the question. He got all nervouse, but finaly asked „You and Phil.. is there something happening?“ Oh,no,no,no, i tought, why he had to ask it. The night would end perfectly without this. I groaned pleadingly at him „Ugh, can we not talk about Phil now, please.“ „Why not?“ he asked, and i noticed his nervousness intensifing. „Because i dont know what to tell you, Jake.“ „How about the truth?“ he said. „I cant do that.“ He looked at me confused „Why not?“ „Because i myself dont know what the truth is.“ I groaned, leaving the car. He left the car, closing the door and walking over to me handing me the keys „What do you mean?“ „I mean, i'm a mess, Jake.“ I started „I dont know what to think any more. You want the truth? Fine. Yes, i like Phil, i cant denie it. We clicked, i feel good arround him, thats the truth.“  My words  stung him, and he barely managed to say „I see.“ He leaned with his back against the car, steadying himself. But i wasnt finished yet. „And then there's you, Jake“ i started, my voice full of compassion and tenderness. He looked at me, his eyes meeting mine. „I like you, too. I like you so much, that it hurts.“ I paused a bit before i continued. „Im drawn to you like a magnet, i cant pull off. But, its like, every time the magnets are about to connect, one switches polarity and the other is thrown aback. Its driving me insane! With Phil, everything flows easy. But with you, its everything but easy.“ „Maya, i know i'm not the easiest person..“ he started to say, but i held my fingers to his lips, not leting him speak.They wer so soft and warm, i had to focuse hard on what i wanted to say. „I know, its not easy for you to open up, to let people in. I get it. And i know i said i can wait, that i'll be patiente. But my patiance is fading. I dont know how much longer i can go on like this, Jake. Its tearing me up inside.“ As i said it, i leaned my forehead to his, putting both of my arms to his chest,leaning against him. We just stayed like that for a while. Being this close to him, and the warmth of his body radiating - i felt serene. His heart was beeting fast, probably matching mine. I could stay like this forever, i tought, but i needed to continue. I was waiting for this, to finaly tell him what was on my mind. „I need to know what might be of us.“ I said „If there even exists the posibility of 'us'.“ We stayed like that for a while more, non of us daraing to move or speak, before i slowely pulled away from him. I sighed „You dont have to say anything now. Just, think about what i said. You know where to find me if you want to talk.“ I leaned to him, giving him a kiss on the cheek „Good night, Jake. Thanks for the ride.“ I turned walking slowly towards my room, when i heard him say „Good night, Maya, sweet dreams.“ I turned back, not stopping in my steps, giving him one more smile, him smiling back. I hoped me opening up like this will make him finaly understand the depths of my feelings. I knew there was a posibility he might not feel the same, but i didnt care of it now. I did what i could, i told him how i feel, now he holds all the cards. I unlocked my door and entered the room, kicking my boots off, throwing myself on the bed. What an interesting night it was, i tought smiling, covering myself with blanket and letting sleep take over me.

[harukaemberfall]

27. If your character was going to get arrested, what would be the most likely reason for it?

"Several months ago, just before I had found a new Legionnaire for Fall, I was on an assignment to Divinity's Reach at the request of the Seraph, to remove of an unsavory, belligerent Charr character who was suspected to be Flame Legion. There was no denying that I was a bit nervous. It was reported that this charr wore the armor of a Flame Legion Champion. He was either very skilled, or very fake. Me and my warband were ordered to dispose of this threat in the event that he is an active Flame Legion insurgent, or detain and retrieve him if he was an impostor. Several days went by, and no signs of the charr had been found still. On a side note, this trip to Divinity's Reach was considerably more pleasant than my last few. As I looked for the charr I stopped by a few of the taverns and had a chat with a few of the people there. Turns out that a considerable number of charr live there... More than I thought at least. After finally receiving a tip from a few sylvari, I had a lead, so I instinctively began reeling in. It was 3 days later that I had sighted this charr. I completely zoned out and approached him without realizing that I was nowhere near my warband at the time... After shadowing this charr around the perimeter loop for a few minutes, I got a little closer, and closer, until we stopped, and made it into melee distance of one another. It then struck me that I wasn't with my warband. So my pride ridden self remained in eye contact with the stranger as a blanked out for a moment, eventually uttering my orders unto the Flame Legion Champion like a complete moron. Oh, and did I mention that I was completely unarmed? Luckily, he knew this too, and any charr wouldn't attack an unarmed opponent. After he knew my objective, I felt hostile vibes towards him, but it wasn't for the worst. His mind set was put off balance, while I was able to regain mine. Once again, I felt my ash legion training kickstart my train of thought once more, and I was able to effectively and discreetly probe him for information for a brief period while he regained his bearings. This was fortunate, as the more time I was able to waste, the more my mutated powers were able to take effect. Due to the mutation, any flame blooded charr will begin to feel nauseous and weak in my immediate vicinity after a few minutes. After several minutes, I found out that this charr is formerly a flame legion champion, named Ruhk the Discordant, and fled to divinity's reach to try and antagonize the flame legion. He walks around the city shouting out at the flame legion that he supposedly thinks are spying on him, to try and come kill him. At this point I was disappointed in myself for not finding him despite his imposing acts of recent. My mindset shifted to detainment. the way we ash legion go about this is.... shall I say... 'Touchy Feely?'... Anyways, I started playing the "danger" game by opening myself up to, and sympathizing with this former flame legion charr to try and get him to trust me, so I can quietly remove him from the premises. at this point, the poor charr had began feeling quite sickly, and a tad frightened. I couldn't blame him, it was a lot to take in. But just before my plan started to work, another charr came up and intervened. it was a priory scholar named Tiberius Rapidshot. He came in between me and Ruhk, and thought that I was "Doing Something" to "This poor Charr" This priory scholar was ignorant of the situation, and I acted very irresponsibly to him... When someone disobeys me, or is ignorant of something, it triggers me, hard, And Tiberius was both. It really brought out the worst in me, and it wasn't good for this mission. Tiberius and I began reasoning. I told him that this was the Legion's business, and that he needs to butt out. I didn't bother to tell him that ruhk would be fine or anything, and as any selfless, caring citizen would do, Tiberius tried his best to protect this charr from the ash legion. I was almost to the point of exploding, but that's when finally got the chance to regain my composure over my arrogant self, and try to console Tiberius, tell him the truth (The confidential information the ash legion trusted me with) and apologize for the misunderstanding, eventually, Tiberius backed down, and Ruhk was getting even more sick. Finally, Ruhk agreed to come back to the citadel with me. I turned on a small device that suppressed my field of power, and Ruhk began to feel better, so that I didn't have to carry him across the city on my shoulders. Tiberius split ways as we headed back... Or so I thought... We made it back to the citadel, and I kept Ruhk in the Fall Warband Barracks, fed him, and gave him a change of clothes that weren't a dead giveaway. Sure enough, the adamant guard was informed of my operation, and told that a flame legion charr may be passing through, but I suppose some of them didn't get the memo. the sight of a flame legion champion turned them into kittens... the curious and reckless kind... The next day, as I headed out for my debriefing, I was held up by the adamant guard. They didn't tell me why, and demanded entrance into our barracks. I obliged, much to the danger of my guest, Ruhk, who was in our barracks on order. The adamant guard were antsy as can be, just about ready to pop someone's lid with a rifle. I tried to ask them to talk to their commanders about my operation, but they simply told me to shut up, and that I cant be trusted. They hauled me out, In chains, and placed my warband under house arrest. As Centurion, I am responsible for all wrongdoings of the warbands under my command, especially with the advent of corruption within the higher ranks of the charr empire, and doubly special for my prior history with flame legion powers. I could hear the adamant guard talking about shooting me, I was famous for being weird. It took a while, but the adamant guard finally backed down after linking up with their commanders about the operation, and let me and my warband free. There was quite a bit happening to us afterwards, but that is all that pertains to this question."Throughout Haru's life, it has always been the kindness of his own heart that get's him into the deepest trouble, from lying to his sire about his sisters stealing cookies, and taking the blame for himself, to harboring repressed individuals, in need of help, and being targeted by their enemies for being responsible, being kind is always going to come with it's drawbacks. Despite all the trouble he has gotten into, Haru still hasn't found a way to stop being nice...

[nebulawriter]

The Christmas Prince: Blind Review

Okay. So this has been in my recommendations on Netflix for a while and it always looks so strange to me. I thought I’d put it on and see what it was about for a night in. 

It started out with some classic pictures of new york with the MUSIC from Jingle Bell Rock, but with weird different lyrics pulled from other christmas songs. 

Strap in folks. We’re in for a ride.

Well this is starting out like every romantic comedy ever. But kudos to ‘Ugly Christmas Sweaters of the Stars’

Aldovia is definitely just Not-Genovia. My goodness. 

Why...is...is this junior editor at a fashion thing covering an international scandal thing? Why aren’t...you know what, nope. nope we’re just gonna ride this out. 

I mean I can already see the formula played out for this rom-com but lets see if there are any surprises

Oh my god. 

This guy is the ultimate gay friend stereotype

Okay I like the dad. 

OH MY GOD the exposition in this movie is just...so on the nose. Just. 

That was the prince, wasn’t it

Like I get that this foreign wedding isn’t the sexiest thing for an american paper...whatever this paper is...but like. I feel like they would either depend on another paper for the news or like. not send a writer at all if they didn’t have one. 

THE ACTING IN THIS MOVIE MY GOD. “More like he’s avoiding the press” *head bob*

THE EXPOSITION IN THIS MOVIE

wow this is. I mean, it’s not like ridiculously laughably bad but its just...not good. 

What are the stakes for why she can’t go home empty handed? I’d have thought she’d WANT to go home, seeing its christmas and she was reluctant to come. But its not like this is her LAST chance at the big break. And him not showing up is still news like, write about that???

THIS ENTIRE PLOT IS BASED OFF OF PURE COINCIDENCE

AAAAAAAA

Aww cute lil girl. 

OH MY GOD SHE BROKE A VASE 

IS THIS ABOUT TO TURN INTO OURAN HIGH SCHOOL HOST CLUB

That castle is definitely a model. 

THE STAKES HERE ARE SO LOW. And why does this level of infiltration need to be necessary for such a low level story?

This acting is going to kill me. 

This is either disability representation or disability porn and I’m leaning towards the porn. 

was that supposed to be her finding him attractive?

This is either bad acting, bad writing or both. I’m inclined to think both.

DICK JOKE

oh god. this is every goddamn romance movie except with so little romance. 

What’s the story they’re investigating? The guy said they’d be having the coronation. Like. Thats the story.

Let me guess. The evil dick cousin takes the throne if the prince abdicates oh my GOD this movie is painful. 

Alright, they’re leaning away from the porn part and moving more into the representation for disability. 

ANOTHER DICK JOKE

YOU COULDN’T HAVE FOUND OUT ABOUT THIS LINE OF SUCCESSION THING OFF GOOGLE OR SOMETHING??

Oh my god a cocky vulnerable asshole he’s literally EVERY Rom com hero oh my GOD

SHE HAS NOT SHOWN ANY SIGNS OF ATTRACTION

and how much does gay bff know about royalty?

I get it. Simon’s an asshole. 

This acting. 

New woman. The rival lover?

This movie is every rom com. Every. Single. One. I’ve never seen them so thoroughly condensed. 

BROOKLYN NINE NINES UP! MOVIE BREAK

okay back to hell

Ah yes, the love rival whom the mother approves of, but the boyfriend doesn’t love anymore. 

she’s...writing...those notes are terrible

I....do like the little girl. Still trying to figure out if they’re just using the disability for sympathy points. But like. She does have a character and I do like her, so I’ll go with it. 

Either way its still the best part of this movie. 

im so bored.

this prince. is so. boring. 

WHAT THE HELL KINDA CHRISTMAS GAME IS THAT

How did THAT reporter get so close to the princess?

Like doesn’t she have guards?

you know, come to think of it, there are probably no guards in all of Aldovia

Richard ain’t gonna show. 

Called it. 

Oh my god why are they surprised Prince Flake disappeared?

yup, he’s ACTUALLY cute and charming. Of course. 

What I want: They change the laws for Emily to inherit the throne, but the Queen rules until she turns 18. 

Yup. There is 0 security in Aldovia

Sledding is cute. 

Literally just...cut the prince out of this movie. Just completely. 

Just make it about the sister, and how there’s no direct male heir. 

I’ve seen plenty movies where the women is just a sexy lamp but honestly the guy here is so easy to remove from this romance. 

This could be such a sweet platonic sister-y movies. 

This is....cute but doesn’t provide any dramatic tension really. Like, at all. 

I hate her notes so much. Partially cause they’re like mine, but she’s a reporter she should know better. 

I mean, they’re friends now, right? Why not just ask prince (Or Emily, honestly) why he doesn’t want the throne. 

ARE THERE NO STABLE BOYS HERE IN ALDOVIA EITHER????

YOURE TRUSTING THE HORSE TO KNOW WHERE ITS GOING????

Have you ever even ridden before?

what...what is happening.

Does the prince come to her rescue.

Alright, that shot was stolen STRAIGHT from Beauty and the Beast. 

THIS WHOLE SEQUENCE IS LITERALLY JUST A SCENE LIFTED FROM BEAUTY AND THE BEAST!

Did they just forget to write a scene and so inserted one from another movie and then write around that?

oh my god this was so boring I almost missed the heart to heart. 

oh, emotional truths in movies are never good when it starts with “You’ll just think I’m a spoiled rich kid anyway”

well, I mean, if your father wrote your mother a riddle that you can’t figure out....I’m assuming SHE can. Right?

that almost-kiss was so forced.

We’re nearing the part where ‘everything goes wrong’

Wait a sec, this is deviating a bit

HO CRAP

How’d she get all this. 

Why tell your best friends about this whole thing? Prince was adopted. Huh. 

Again, stakes. Why do we care that her ‘career’ will be made. 

oh my god. of course. The accidental ‘saw the other girl kiss him’ moment

oh my god.I eye rolled so hard it hurt

“If you like the way you look that much, then baby you should go and love yourself”

YOUR GOING. TO EXPOSE THE STORY. THAT HE WAS ADOPTED. BECAUSE HE KISSED ANOTHER GIRL?????

I give up. 

Thank you, dispensary of fatherly advice. 

well. one thing taken care of. 

What happened to the horse who bucked her off anyway?

Ah yes. The good ole romcom trope. “There’s something that I need to tell you” Man swoops in for kiss. 

my god

Sigh. The rival and the skeevy cousin team up. 

oh no they’re going to find the adoption papers. Dickholes. 

Dammit they successfully made me hate them for hurting the good guys. Fuck. 

Him being adopted explains the GIANT AGE difference between him and his sister, though

What did he say? What...what’s happening?

yeah yeah, the son is afraid of not living up to his dad

OH MY GOD THE PALACE IS TOTALLY A MODEL

.....I do like the little girl. 

Seriously why isn’t this story just about the little girl? 

Get rid of the Prince he’s unnecessary

Make it all about ableism and sexism and blah blah and people trying to deny Emily the throne. Maybe even make HER the adopted one and talk about not-blood families and their importance.

Ah, the makeover section of the romcom has started. 

oh look, its her in an updo and a fancier dress. 

Oooh, smokey eye too. nice. 

Honestly I didn’t think the love rival was so bad at the start. but I think they just didn’t know what to do with her so decided to make her a stereotype. 

Call him Dick.

(his name is prince richard. they should call him a dick.)

I enjoy that she’s wearing sneakers under her dress, I admit. 

Does she even know how to dance?

I guess so

Or not, they clearly choreographed this right before shooting. 

everyone else in the scene is clearly professional dancers, and there the main characters are. Swaying. 

Seriously? One song in and they go to the main event?

The cousin and the rival are going to do something dramatic, aren’t they?

Is this like a marriage? I don’t think people dispute coronations during the ceremony.

Okay, but they need time to like. Verify things right? 

Like. Why does everyone suddenly believe them? and...I just...what?

WHY WOULD SHE ADMIT THAT RIGHT NOW IN FRONT OF EVERYBODY?! COME ON THIS SHOULD GO SOMEWHERE PRIVATE RIGHT? WITH LIKE? 

Oh god this is so...artificial and junk. 

‘things just got so out of hand’

i admit, it’s a PRETTY model of a palace. 

this whole thing is just. so contrived. 

Really? ‘why didn’t you tell me?’ 

Wasn’t a royal birth like....news? in this country?

Aw, mother/son seen. good. 

They got married before the coronation?

What happens if the time runs out? Like. Will they just. Not have a king anymore?

Like what kind of stupid rule?

Seriously, the dad character, his entire dialogue is just fatherly advice. 

Okay. So what I’m getting here is the king hid something in the acorn ornament he made? but. Why did he hide it?

Oh wow, there actually ARE guard in the country.

they might not have a dungeon, but they have jails, surely?

WHY DID HE PLAY WITH RIDDLES!! THE DEAD KING IS AN ASSHAT!!!

hey, there looks like some equality with gender in the quorum of kings council. but like. Its really white. 

See, Emily continues to be the only good thing in this movie. 

This whole thing is so arbitrary, why not. 

Oh look and now he can be king. Why didn’t he want to be king before? Anyway?

Seriously Sophia, make sure he’s King BEFORE you marry of him, geez. 

And he’s king. Cool. 

But where’s the girl? :O

now he has to chase after her and they kiss and then happily ever after. Right?

okay, so she made it to New York. Cool. 

Do they not like puff pieces? This is the obvious blah thing. 

Girl that is a dream job for a wanna be journalist in your 20s. Good lord. 

AHHH I HATE THIS

She has a date? oh. Setup. got it. 

These side characters have no depth at all. They are black best friend and gay best friend. 

Where is he. There he is.

THEY LET THE KING OF A COUNTRY WANDER THE STREETS OF NEW YORK WITH NO GUARDS????

oh, just skippin straight to the proposal. mkay. 

THEY MET TWO WEEKS AGO

hehehhehe my brain had a dirty thought. 

there it is

I can feel Elsa shouting “YOU CANT MARRY A MAN YOU JUST MET”

I could have sworn that ring was purple a second ago. now its blue, 

K

3 minutes left. please let most of those be credits. 

ah yes. Circle cam around this OBVIOUS STAGE SET

No new york street looks like that.

AND WE DIDNT EVEN GET TO SEE EMILY AGAIN.

Welp. Can’t say I didn’t know what I was getting into.