#crazy reason to damn your town to being rage city

[jq37]

What is it that the Rat Grinders actually want exactly? Or at least, what does Kipperlilly want since she's the one we know the most about.

At the top of the season it seemed like she wanted to Be The Best at school and Be Recognized in a very Tracy Flick/Sara Berry kind of way and was just going to crazy lengths to get there because this is a world where you help a dragon kidnap girls so you can be Prom Queen and life goes on. But now we know that the Rat Grinders are a part of Porter's larger plan and one of the major steps of that plan is completely abolishing Aguefort as an institution.

It's clear what Porter gets out of this. He gets to be a god and he gets to continue his imperialistic family legacy. And I would maybe get what Kipperlilly would get out of this is she were the Cleric/Paladin of the plan. She'd get to be the new god's champion, like she was gushing to Lucy. That's maybe worth something to an achievement hunting, Type A individual.

But she's not gonna get to be the best student at Aguefort if Aguefort doesn't exist anymore. Hell, Elmville won't really exist anymore. Is Porter planning on opening a new Adventuring School in Rage Elmville and she gets to be the god Principal's pet? Does she think he's gonna make things "fair" for her somehow? How? Retroactively killing her parents? Does she want to use the powers she cheesed from the easy XP he drip fed her to be a renown adventurer? Kinda hard to pull that off when everyone knows you were part of the plan that doomed the town. Maybe she thought they were going to get away with it without being implicated? Does she literally not want anything other than a chance to kill the Bad Kids? Or even pettier, to just to be stronger than Riz? Is that worth it to her? To damn the whole town just so she can say that she beat Riz once? Did she want something concrete at one point but at this point she's just lost in the sauce and doing whatever the next task is without knowing what she'd even do with a victory if she got it? Did she already get what she wanted in the free XP and now she's just paying her end of the bargain?

I'm just very unsure about what her version of a happy ending is here.

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Pls could you do a Bad Ben x reader?

Why I Hate Bellwood 

Pairing: (Bad) Ben Tennyson x Reader

Warnings: Sexual assault and harassment themes

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: You don’t think there’s anything redeemable or good about Ben Tennyson until he saves you from a dangerous situation.

You hated living in Bellwood. It was the worst place to be and you couldn’t even imagine how it was a functioning city. It was a town rampant with criminals and villains. In a place where the crime rate not only sky-rocketed each week but also where no one gave any damn to change it.

They even had their own super-powered thief. Of course.

Coincidentally, the town you hated the most also happened to be the place where you were transferred to. Maybe it was because your supervisor wanted to send the most capable and competent student there. Or maybe it was because you ran your mouth and chewed out her daughter (who had a severe case of princess syndrome).

You and your big mouth.

You had a small studio apartment that could barely fit a bed and that made you feel claustrophobic. Even though you wanted a bigger place, this was the only apartment you could find that was in your price range and in the safer parts of town. Relatively speaking.

Even though you made a conscious effort to stay out of trouble, it seemed to present itself to you on a silver platter. Or more accurately, a stolen silver platter. The trouble you were talking about was Ben Tennyson himself, the friendly neighbourhood criminal.

It was absurd to think that a boy your age could have his entire town at his mercy because of a fancy watch but it was true. He was terrifying, and more importantly, unstoppable. So, you tried your hardest to stay out of his sight, and out of his way.

Unfortunately, that seemed like it wouldn’t happen either. Not even a week after you had moved, you had found out that the crazy crime lord that you had been trying to avoid was living in the apartment next to yours. And not only were you neighbours, but you could see right into his room through the window.

Not like you tried. You had been too afraid to even open the window.

How could this be the safest place in town if this maniac was living right across from you?

Although when you asked the other women in the building, they had told you that was the whole point. Ben Tennyson was a ruthless maniac and known criminal. That’s why no sane person would come into a mile of his home.

All they had to do was avoid him like the plague and so would the other criminals.

And in the psychotic, irrational fashion that was accustomed to Bellwood, that actually made sense. And knowing that Ben was living right across from you was a sign of extreme comfort but also fear.

Would he kill you if you snored too loudly in the night? Or if you kept the lights on in the night and disturbed him?

The fear you had made you want to fall beneath his radar and go completely unnoticed by him. You would stay out of his sight and completely out of his life until you completed your work and could return home.

That had been the plan.

Until one day you had been returning from your classes a little later than usual. It was already dark out and there were fewer cars out on the roads. Walking through the streets alone made an eery feeling settle in your veins and you pumped your legs faster, breaking out into a run.

Just as the busy intersection came into your sights, somebody stepped in front of you and you stopped instinctively. Even though you shouldn’t have. It was a broad man, who had tattoos covering his arms up until his neck. He grinned widely at you, but it was a sick smile that made you gulp and back away.

You didn’t take your eyes off him, scared that he was going to make a sudden move. But just as you began backing away, you collided into someone and when you turned around, ice settled in your veins to see another man smirking at you.

You were immediately frozen in fear, breaths shortening in your chest when his hands came towards you. You wanted to run away from there. But they seemed to realize what your plan was.

They grabbed you, hands digging painfully into your arms and you yelped, resisting in their grip.

“Oh, now sweetheart, don’t fight, it’s not gonna be fun for you if you do.”

Tears started burning your eyes and panic burned through your chest, “Let—Let me go.”

They didn’t reply, only chuckling in response but their grip got tighter when you started thrashing. Your mind went blank, reducing to instincts and you began screaming as tears escaped your eyes.

The men’s faces hardened and they started dragging you with them, not fazed by your rapid kicking and squeezing your throat when you started screaming and crying again.

You had never been so scared in your entire life. They got closer to a dark alley and your breaths shortened, crying out and begging against the hand slapped over your mouth but they didn’t hear or they didn’t care.

Just as they pulled you into the shadows of the alley, there was a bright flash of light from its depths. Your eyes burned from the brightness but you still didn’t close them, scared that something would happen in the second you did.

Because you kept them peeled open, you were able to make out the silhouette of some creature before the light faded. It moved too quickly for your eyes to process, especially in your state of fear, but in a second, the pressure of the men pressed to your front and back had disappeared.

The figures were knocked over like small boys and you heard the sounds of their grunts. Even though you felt immense relief, you were still frozen. You didn’t even bother moving from your place when the creature came to stand in front of you.

“Who the fuck dares to mess with us.” One of them growled, standing up. You couldn’t see anything in the dark and you just chose to grip tightly onto the straps on your back, clenching your jaw tightly.

The bright light came back and you glanced up to see the figure get reduced to a boy. He held up his watch, it glowing in the night and you finally saw his face. He was glaring darkly at the men, lips turned in a frightening scowl.

“Who the fuck dares to mess with a defenceless woman.” He spat and they froze, realizing who they were talking to.

“Holy shit, it’s Ben Tennyson.”

He glared at them, seeing the way they were turned, probably about to make a break for it, “If you even think of running, I will hunt you down like the dogs you are.”

He then turned to you, holding up the watch to your face. You finally got a good look at his face, dark hair and deep green eyes. His face was innocent and charming, even though you knew he was rougher around the edges. Even then, he looked safe, like he’d protect you.

You, on the other hand, looked like a mess. Eyes red and tears streaming down your cheeks, your clothes were dishevelled and your hair because of the way they yanked it.

Ben’s jaw tightened, noting the way you were still sobbing quietly into your hand but when his eyes handed on the bruises around your neck, you saw the unadulterated rage that boiled over on his face.

He turned into another alien, pinning the two men against the wall by their necks. They choked, gasping for the breath that got knocked out of them but Ben didn’t care, his grip only got tighter when they started begging.

“You didn’t hear her when she was crying? You didn’t stop when she was in pain? Then why the fuck should I?” He spat and you felt mixed emotions. For a second, you were relieved and flattered he was sticking up for you. And then you were reminded of the way these men were overpowering you mere minutes before.

Even though you didn’t have a reason to be afraid now, the terror still returned and your knees buckled, sending you to the ground as a choked sob left your lips.

Ben glanced back at you, eyes softening just for a second before he turned back to the monsters that were left at his mercy. They cowered at his gaze and tried mangling out some pleas through the grip he had on their throats but he felt disgusted to even be touching them.

“If you even touch another woman like that in my town, I will rip your fingers off and feed them to you. The only reason I’m letting you go is so that you can spread the word to other lowlifes like you.” He spoke lowly, loosening his grip and they fell to the floor, nodding and apologizing.

They tried to come closer to you, to apologize but you cowered, backing away with a whimper and Ben growled at them before pointing at you, “Her especially. If I ever see you within 50 feet of her, I won’t be so kind.”

They nodded wordlessly before running away, tails tucked between their legs and only when the sound of their footsteps completely disappeared were you finally able to breath.

Ben gently knelt in front of you. He made no move to touch you, only watching as you lifted your head to meet his eyes and your chest cleared. You felt unbelievable relief looking at him.

Before you could control yourself, you started sobbing uncontrollably, launching yourself into his arms and throwing yours around his neck. He stiffened for a minute before relaxing, gently holding your body against his, knowing that you just needed to be comforted.

Eventually, your cries lulled down and you were left feeling exhausted, but he still didn’t let go.

“I thought you were supposed to be the bad guy?” You asked breathlessly and he smirked at you.

“I am, but I have some class. Touching someone against their consent is beneath me.” He said it with so much disgust in his voice that you believed him. You always thought he was just like them, a lowlife and mangy criminal, but looking at him now, he was much more honourable than you realized.

“Come on, I wanna get back home.”

Even though he was holding out his hand for you to take, you still couldn’t move from your place on the floor, staring up at him with wide eyes. You thought he was supposed to be a criminal. Why was he being so good to you?

“Ask me something.” He said suddenly and you flinched. Ben looked down at you and pursed his lips. He knew you needed to get your mind off whatever just happened.

“What?”

“I’m giving you permission to ask me something. Anything. You’re getting a really rare chance here.”

Of course, a million and one questions were going through your head. Why did he help you? Was he really a bad guy? Was he a misunderstood person? Like Robin Hood?

Even with so many thoughts rushing through your head, when you opened your mouth, the only thing that slipped out was, “Is it true you walk around in your apartment without your shirt?”

You had heard about it from the girl who lived in the apartment before you and had been too scared to look out the window to prove her right or wrong. You don’t know why you were so curious about it, just because you wondered whether he was comfortable enough to roam around without his shirt on or whether he really didn’t care.

Ben smirked at you, “Why? Interested in the view?”

Your face went red, “No, I just heard it from someone.”

“My hand is getting tired.”

You looked at his hand again, still held out for you to take. Gingerly, you slipped your palm into his and he held onto your hand firmly, pulling you to your feet. You were still tense, looking around suspiciously and huddling a little closer to him.

“Let’s go, no one’s gonna be stupid enough to come near you while I’m here.”

“I can trust you right?”

He sent you a smirk that made you uneasy and flustered at the same time, “At your own risk.”

Looking down at your intertwined hands, you figured you might just take it.

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

[itseivwhore]

|Ezio Auditore x reader|(Modern)

I was at the beach for an entire day,from morning until evening:with the sun and the impossible heat (plus my pride and the thought of being invincibile to everything and everyone),didn't exactly help the stay...so I ended up to have billions of sunburns all over my shoulders and face (who would have thought...I've been spending 17 years at the beach every damn Summer,yet I never got such a bad sunburn like this one.Invincible my ass). And I was stuck on my bed,I couldn't even move...so how better to spend all this free time if not to write something?

Have a little modern au imagine with all of the Assassins,and at least but not last,with the reader comforting Ezio struggling and being a bit dramatic with the big sunburns he got.

Because I was annoyed,and it was the only idea I got.Oh and it won't be like all my other long imagines:this one will be quite short...maybe.(Oh x 2,I would like to point this out:the writing style will be a little bit different from all the other one shots I have written,since this will be a modern one,so don't really expect philosophical speeches).

~~~~~

Summer.

Probably the most awaited season of the year,where everything changes and the world takes on a new and youthful aspect:longer and warmer days,holidays,exciting and fun experiences,countless of new opportunities to spend free time with friends;maybe spending a few weeks in a beautiful house right in front of a lake,in the middle of nature,away from the city and its continuous noise...and this is what Ezio organized:three weeks in that beautiful large wooden house,where he would celebrate his birthday.

Everybody knew that the Italian boy had always-always-organized fantastic parties,with hundreds of people,inviting almost the whole school and all the people he knew,celebrating all night long.Everybody knew about his famous,big parties.But the group of his closest friends was shocked and amazed,to say the least,when Ezio declared that for this year there would be no big and crazy party:just a few weeks,all together,a sort of summer holiday,near a lake,in the middle of a forest.

And everyone,of course,expected that Ezio had rented an ultra-modern and very expensive house,but when they all arrived at the place of residence,they remained amazed:that infamous house,which the Italian had so long mentioned,was nothing more than a large,simple,two-storey wooden chalet.The outside of the house was surrounded by a thick layer of grass,decorated with many small colorful flowers,overlooked by large trees that partially covered the large lawn with their shade.A hammock had been tied right in the middle of two trees,and was slightly moved by the warm summer breeze.

The interior was spacious and furnished in a very simple way with wodden fornitures,and everything was more cozy and soft thanks to that small touch of vintage everywhere in the house:pendulum clocks,antique paintings hanging on all the walls,huge windows that illuminated immensely the large living room.The second floor was just where the numerous bedrooms were,as well as having a large and spacious balcony overlooking the majestic lake,giving a truly beautiful view.

In short,a truly delightful house,reserved and discreet,away from towns and cities.

Everyone,on the other hand,had found various activities and amusements to do:who,like Edward,Jacob,Ezio and Desmond,as soon as they arrived at the chalet,had lost no time and immediately dived into the lake,swimming and playing in the cool water;who,like Connor and Altaïr,had decided to take a walk in the woods near the chalet,looking for silence and peace,away from Jacob's screams,Edward's dirty jokes and Ezio's curses;who,like Evie and Arno,sat in the shadow of the mighty tall white poplars reading books,sometimes muttering something to each other;who,like Leonardo,spent most of his time painting the landscape around him.

Y/n instead spent the hours of the day alternating between being in everyone's company:swimmimg with the four boys in the lake,or walking together with Altaïr and Connor in the middle of the woods,or simply chatting with the two readers,or watching the painter paint his masterpieces.And,during the last hours of the evening,being together with Ezio,cuddling him,spending sweet and almost infinite moments with him,laying in the hammock next to him,laughing at his flirty comments,shivering at his reserved and gentle touches and blushing at his tempting and allouring glances.

The whole group was having fun,no one was bored,the days went by fast,and Ezio's birthday was getting closer and closer.Everything was normal.

Until...

"Santo Dio!" a heartrending scream of pain,coming from inside the chalet,interrupted the quiet of that mid-June afternoon.All of them had gathered in the large living room,standing around him.Curses and cries of pain had little to do with all that fuss:the real reason why the whole group had gathered in the living room was-as one might have imagined-for Ezio himself.

Once he was finally back from a full day at the lake,most of it spent sunbathing,everyone noticed how incredibly reddish his face had become-noticing however that he was wearing his t-shirt again.But he just shrugged it off,reassuring everyone by telling that it was 'completely normal',as if nothing happened.But the hours went by,and with them grew-more and more-the pain that became unbearable,impossible to ignore,the realization that became more and more vivid in his mind.And consequently,even his complaints and pain only grew:starting from barely audible groans to loud shouts,catching the attention of the whole group...who tried to do everything to help him,but in vain.

"Don't...don't touch me!" Ezio intimidated with a threatening voice,pointing a finger at all his friends who,a little surprised,a little worried-and even a little amused-were in front of him.

"Please,you need to take of your shirt off,Ezio!"  Y/n prayed him for the umpteenth time in an exasperated tone,slowly taking a few steps towards the guy,spreading her arms,wanting him to understand that she didn't have any bad intentions.

"I don't need to do anything!Leave me be!" Ezio shouted again with eyes burning with rage,backing away when he saw his fiancée approaching him,his flashing gaze wandering quickly over all his friends' faces.

"You are shouting like a girl,mate.Quit it" Edward's loud,bored and singing voice came from the kitchen,too busy rummaging through the fridge to turn around and look at the poor boy.

"Zitto Kenway!" the Italian apostrophied him,panting heavily,red in the face,drops of sweat running over his forehead,while he walked quickly back and forth in the living room,trying to avoid the looks and comments of everyone.

"Be a man and take that shirt off,you are complaining for nothing" Jacob replied in a careless,nonchalant voice,passing next to Ezio and then placing a heavy hand on his shoulder,purposedly giving some loud pats:smirking in a purely amused way when he saw the Italian hissing and groaning in pain.

"Don't.Touch.Me." Ezio repeated in a cold sharp-edged whisper,violently swatting the Bitish' hand away from his shoulder,watching Jacob chuckling and throwing himself on the couch,sitting beside Arno,who was silently observing the scene.

"Ezio please,try to be reasonable" even Leonardo tried to persuade his friend,thus beginning to talk to him,sometimes even murmuring something in Italian,gesturing from time to time.

Desmond,who in the meantime had returned from the kitchen and was holding a beer in his hand,entered the living room,confusedly looking at Ezio for brief moments,and then sitting down next to Arno

"So that's what Italians are like when they're angry,huh?They shout and insult you?" he asked in a whisper,raising an eyebrow,trying not to be heard from him,receiving instead a furious look that,if he had the power to kill,the young Miles would find himself lying on the wooden floor,dead.Desmond simply cleared his voice a couple of times,then opened his beer and drank a few sips,turning to his French friend when he heard him hide a mischievous smile.

"Not only when they are angry.They're always like that" Arno said,raising a corner of his lip in a bitterly amused smile when he looked up at Ezio,seeing him respond to the artist in a rather nervous,impatient manner.Y/n,meanwhile,had gathered all the patience and strength she could have in herself;she knew that the boy could be dramatic when these things happened:she knew him too well,and she knew she had to use gentle manners with him,not forcing him to do things he didn't want to do.

So,walking slowly towards Ezio once more,with a small,pure smile on her rosy lips,she stopped in front of him,looking into his fervent,deep,dark eyes:and when his shiny eyes met and locked with her e/c ones,the violent fire burning inside his gaze disappeared immediately,returning to the warm,calm,soft brown eyes that she loved.She sighed lightly,looking up at him.

"You have to take off your shirt,you'll only make things worse" the girl explained in a serious tone,but not scolding him and,rising on her tip toes she grabbed his head,slowly took the sunglasses out of his hair,placimg them on a small table next to the sofa."Let me help you,alright?" she proposed to him with a sweet,loving,caring smile,starting to raise the edges of his shirt.

He couldn't do anything.How could he refuse the help of the person who endured him and loved him most of all?He simply couldn't.So he got help from her,but some loud hiss and painful groans,while she tried to get ridd off of that shirt,couldn't miss.Once the girl finally managed to get the shirt off from him,she stepped backwards,e/c eyes widening,bringing her hands on her mouth,staying silent in front of him,amazement and genuine disbelief that formed in her face.

"Oh my God" Y/n couldn't help but let out a shocked sigh at the view of his body:he was completely and totally red,to say the least,burned.Ezio didn't seem to perceive how much he had been burned also,and above all,on his torso and abdomen:but the pains and burns only increased when he took off his shirt.The Italian began frantically to ask questions on questions to his friends who,either too shocked,or too amused,didn't answer him.

Desmond suddenly stood up on the sofa and looked for Connor,who had been sitting on a chair with his arms resting against the backrest until now,and then beckoned him to come closer:

"Hey Connor...come here and stand beside Ezio" Connor,for as much as he was a little reluctant and confused,did as he was asked,got up from his chair,and walked to the center of the living room,stopping next to Ezio.

Everyone watched the two boys in silence,until the young Miles suddenly burst into a loud and hilarious laugh.

"LOOK!He's the same color as your shirt,you could blend in Ezio!" he exclaimed,pointing at the poor guy,looking at his arms and chest and then squaring from head to toe Connor,who was wearing a bordeaux t-shirt:and,not exaggerating at all,all of Ezio's skin in his whole body was exactly of that dark red color.This joke unleashed the hilarity of the whole group,who began to laugh loudly,who more openly and who adding more jokes,who giggling confidently.

"Cosa?Fammi vedere!Non c'è un cazzo di specchio in questa cazzo di casa?!" Ezio shouted loudly,looking around frantically, tarting to speak Italian -probably not realizing it because of the fury and embarrassment he was feeling at the moment-he started to rum around all the rooms to find a mirror in which he could see himself;leaving everyone alone in the living room,he ran to the bathroom,and after a few moments another 'cazzo!' echoed in the chalet.

He returned from the bathroom,mumbling lowly,keeping on cursing and talking Italian,panting,completely and utterly red,tired and angry eyes glaring at everything and everyone around him.

"What are you laughing at,Altaïr?!" Ezio suddenly asked angrily,turning to the Syrian when he heard him laugh silently.He did not even deign to turn around and look at the guy,he just looked over his shoulder,grimacing when he saw all the sunburns on the Italian's body,for then returning to watch outside the window.

"You are getting angry with everyone here.It's only your fault." Ezio took an expression to say the least shocked,when he heard Altaïr blame him so blatantly.

"Why should it be my fault?When I was about to take the sun cream it was empty" Ezio defended himself promptly and assuming an authoritative tone,frowning."And I really wonder who consumed it all" he added,raising his voice,turning to Jacob and glaring at him.All of them followed the Italian's gaze,and the whole group focused on Jacob who,still sitting on the sofa, looked around confused.

"What?It's not my fault if Evie is bloody pale!" he suddenly replied,opening his arms theatrically,pointing to his sister who was sitting right in front of him on another armchair.Laughing cunningly,he quickly dodged the slipper she threw at him.

"Yes,I agree,it's only Ezio's fault" Desmond agreed,taking yet another sip from the beer,getting more comfortable on the couch. "I mean,you are Italian,dude"he replied back,leaning forward and resting both elbows on his knees,giving him a disappointed look.

"And what does it has to do with it?" Leonardo asked,purely curious.

"Shouldn't he be used?You know,all tan,Italy' sun,the heat,Mediterranean people" explained Desmond with a careless voice,gesturing a little with his hands,receiving yet another frosty and furious look from the Italian.Ezio rarely did become nervous,there were few times when he became angry:but he was not offended with his friends or by all the jokes they were telling him;he was just annoyed,tired by the burning that was all over his body.The pain was so acute and so strong that he couldn't even make a single simple move.He appreciated that everyone wanted to help him,but he had to admit that all that talking,all that chaos,didn't help him at all.

"It's no one fault,okay?"  Y/n said,slightly impatient,looking at the whole group and then giving a serious look at her boyfriend.But Arno didn't seem to hear her and,softly scoffing,put the book he was reading on the coffee tablet in front of him.

"Do I have to remind you that you yourself have said:'Oh I don't need the suncream'?" he replied in a decisive way,trying to imitate his friend's Italian accent at his best,looking straight into his flaming eyes.

Ezio remained silent,spechless:what the French guy said was nothing but the truth.Hours before,back in the morning,almost everyone-most of all Y/n-tried to convince him on putting some suncream on.But he didn't want to know anything about it,laughing and joking about how the others were so fragile in the sun's rays,bragging a little and feeling proud,proclaiming that he,Ezio Auditore,had no need of sunscream:and so,after swimming in the lake a couple of times,he lay in the sun,and stood there for hours,not moving,even falling asleep...only to find himself,later,in such a state.

"Don't be a smartass with me" Ezio threatened again,lowering his voice in a sharp sigh,pointing a finger at him.

"Otherwise?" Armo challenged him with his natural-old-boldness,quirking an eyebrow as he raised from the couch and took a few steps towards his friend.Ezio of course did not remain silent,to suffer the lecture of Arno,and began to respond fiercely against the provocation of the Frenchman.

"Can't we just try to solve this out without arguing for once?" Y/n suddenly exclaimed in a purely exasperated tone,putting herself between the two men and pushing them away,but receiving a hiss and a painful grunt from Ezio.

"Don't we have some medicenes here?" Evie then asked cautiously,interrupting the silence that had taken hold in the living room after the heated argument between the two guys.

"The only medicine it's alcohol" Edward answered blantatly,coming out of the kitchen with two cold beers in his hand. "Here you go mate" and threw one of the bottles at Ezio,who grabbed it quickly,looking confused and annoyed at the beer that the Welsh had thrown at him.

"I think we should go to the hospital" proposed Connor in a murmur,crossing his arm to his chest,taking on a genuinely worried look when he looked-again-at Ezio's body.

"Perfect!I'll drive.Let's go,shall we?" exclaimed Jacob cheerfully,clapping his hands loudly and smiling,excitement glistening inside his eyes,quickly taking the car keys from the coffee table.

"Yogurt," Desmond said seriously from all of a sudden,silencing everyone.

"What?" Y/n asked,wrinkling her eyebrows in a confused expression,approaching and kneeling next to him.

"We should use yogurt on these sunburns.It helps" continued the young Miles with a firm tone,showing to the young woman his phone,pointing at the screen.

"How can this help?" Altaïr asked in a skeptical tone,turning around and finally taking an interest in the matter.

"Yogurt refresh the sunburns,soften them and have a pleasant moisturizing effect" Y/n read aloud the information she read from the screen,scrolling on it for some more moments,for then giving it back to Desmond.The Syrian guy kept on giving a plain,cold and diffident glance at Miles,shaking his head in the mean time.

"Don't look at me like that,I found it on Internet" concluded Desmond showing his phone,for then shrugging,returning to lay his back on the couch.

"We can try.Do we have some yogurt left in the fridge?" Leonardo asked with curiosity,hoping for the best.

"If the big giant didn't eat them all..." Desmond joked loudly,raising from the couch,giving a playful pat behind the shoulder of his friend when he passed beside him,entering in the kitchen and opening the fridge.

"I only ate the coconut ones..." Connor justified himself in a low murmur,leaning his shoulder on the frame of the kitchen's door,lowering his eyes on the floor.

"You can find a lot of false thing on Internet though" the oldest Frye said,thinking about what Demsond read about using yogurt and other things as an help with sunburns.Jacob scoffed loudly,rolling his eyes in a dramatic way.

"Oh come on Evie!At least we'll be able to help that stubborn dumba..." but Jacob was suddenly and not a little violently interrupted by Ezio's loud and hoarse voice:

"BASTA!" the Italian yelled,making the silence return into the chalet and among his friends once his shout stopped echoing in the house.Everyone was motionless,nobody dared say anything,even Jacob refrained from making one of his jokes.Everyone looked at him in amazement,to say the least,intimidated,sometimes exchanging and casting fugitive glances.Ezio was there,motionless,eyes burning brightly,rapid breathing,red in the face,passing and placing his glare on everyone around him.

"Pasta?" Desmond asked confusedly,frowning and making a grimace.

"We are not going to the hospital,no one is going to put yogurt on me,I won't take any medicine!" Ezio proclaimed authoritatively,higly and stubborly denying any kind of help and refusing any kind of purposes.Taking his sunglasses from the coffee table,placing them on his head,he started to walk towards the door. "And you..." he stopped near the treshold of the kitchen,where Edward still was,before standing im fromt of the Welsh."You can keep your beer Edward" e,taking his hand,he forcefully gave the beer he threw at him before,for then storming out from the chalet.

Y/n-who since the moment Ezio began to shout had been silent as everyone else-was trying to reach him,but she felt a hand grasping her wrist and tugging her slightly,stopping her.Turning around,she found Arno beside her,his hand now resting on her shoulder,squeezing gently.

"Leave him be.He is angry,there's no way to let him reason now" he said to the girl,giving her a bitter and soft smile,nodding towards the window and letting her see that Ezio was outside,laying on the hammock...at least,trying to lay on it,for the sunburns he got all over his body didn't allow him to move,swearing and cursing for at least another hour.

~~~~~

A few hours passed by all what Jacob jokingly called an 'Italian tragedy'.It was late evening by now,almost midnight,and Ezio was still outside sitting on a chair near a wooden table not far from the front door:no one had dared disturb him,for fear of increasing his anger,or of unleashing something infectious.The Italian hadn't even come home for dinner,or for any other reason:he had stayed there for the rest of the day,first lying in a hammock,perhaps asleep,then sitting in a chair staring at nothing,occasionally trying to touch his shoulder or back to see if the pain still persisted.

No one seemed to care so much about him anymore.Apart from Y/n who,of course,was the most worried of all of them:she always turned her gaze towards the windows,trying to catch a glimpse of his form,trying to understand if he was still upset or if he had calmed down,but she certainly couldn't stand there,motionless,looking at him,doing nothing.So she decided to finally get out of the chalet,and try to let him reason,and calming him

Once outside,she gently closed the door behind her,looking for her boyfriend with her eyes,finding him sitting with his back to the chalet,eyes looking at the big,calm lake.The girl took a few steps forward,starting to walk as quietly as possible towards him.But he heard her.

"If there's somebody else then you all can go away," he coldly proclaimed in a loud and decise voice,not turning around and continuing to look at the lake.It was really a beautiful evening:sky full of stars,moon high in the sky,the water reflecting its dull and cold rays on its small waves,a light and fresh breeze made the branches of the trees move gently.

"I'll go away then" Y/n replied in a neutral tone,getting closer and closer until she found herself standing behind his reddish-shoulders.He turned around as soon as he heard her voice,looking at her in an astonished and tired way.

"You're the only person I want next to me even when I'm upset" Ezio murmured in a soothing,low voice,soft and warm brown eyes pleading her shiny e/c ones,her heart almost melting when she heard such a gentle,and utter loving phrase leaving his lips.Her Ezio was back.

"Vieni qui" he whispered,opening his arms,stretching an arm out,gently grabbing her by her waist and delicately letting her sit on his lap.Muscular arms wrapped around her form,pulling her closer,not caring about the pain that action was causing him,just holding her as close as possible,face buried in her chest,snuggling his stubble against her soft flesh,smiling against her skin when he heard her giggling.

She deteached away from him,looking at him before giving him a smile when,as she was caressing his cheek,he leaned his face on her palm,almost wanting to be lulled after such a long,tiring day.He opened his eyes after a while,fixing some strands of h/c hair that were falling in front of her.

"I'm sorry" the Italian whispered suddenly,giving his beloved a look full of guilt and embarrassment.One of the things Y/n adored about Ezio was his honesty and humility:he knew when he was wrong,he knew when to apologize and he knew perfectly well when to do so."I wasn't angry with you all...I was just tired and nervous because I got all thesw fottute sunburns" he explained in a serious voice,squeezing her hips.He could read in his deep eyes how purely sorry he was.She gave him a small smile,leaning in and leaving a chaste kiss upon his lips.

"I,we know,Ezio.No one is mad at you" Y/n reassured him in a soothing and quiet voice,leaning down to kiss him again,with more passion,paying attention to where she put her hands,so as not to hurt him.

Ezio still  was whispering apologies near her ear,caressing her,kissing her,thanking her.But she got up from his highs after a while and,after looking at him seriously,the girl leaned towards the table next to them,holding an object that Ezio had not noticed until now.

"It's yogurt.Desmond tried to see if it could really help,and apparently,it could," Y/n explained,raising the yogurt jar in her hand and showing it to him,who in response sighed loudly and deeply,throwing his head back,almost looking in defeat.But despite his reaction,Ezio sat down composedly on the chair and nodded.

The girl laughed purely amused and,opening the jar,she took some yogurt on both hands,and began to smear it on his shoulders and on his red,scalded back;at first groans and hiss,his skin still too sensible and damaged,but after a while,when she started to delicately massage his shoulders with the fresh,cold yogurt,he sighed,relieved.He hummed,closing his eyes,throwing his head back.

"Quanto posso amarti?" he asked in Italian,sounding so hoarse when he-once again-groaned when her small hands slided down from his shoulders to his warm chest.

"Shouldn't you be giving a message to me?" Y/n asked him back in a sarcastic tone,leaning down,whispering that near his ear,hearing the entrance door being opened and closed.

"But it's my birthday today" Ezio answered in a mellifluous tone,claiming to be offended,giving a sad grimace to his lover,who just laughed loudly,for then suddendly returning serious.

"Who told you I don't have a gift for you?" Y/n inquires with a low and semsual voice,leaning more near him,her hands sliding down on his torso,almost tickling him,her lips on his definite jaw,feeling him almost shivering.

And just when he was about to answer her,he stopped when he saw all the others walking towards the table,singing the infamous song:it was,in fact,midnight,and it was Ezio's birthday.Jacob walked in front of everyone,holding a large pizza in his hands,on which were added candles.Once they arrived near the birthday boy,the British placed the pizza on the table in front of Ezio who,with happy eyes,looked at what was to be his birthday cake.

"We didn't have the time to go in the nearest city and buy a cake,so we make a true Italian pizza..." Connor explained with a ghostly smile on his lips,nodding towards the plate.

"For an angry,burnt italian man" concluded Arno with sarcastic voice,raising a corner of his mouth in a cheeky grin,smiling at Ezio.

"I tell you,we aren't even sorry" added Edward with a proud smile,placing his hands on his hips.

"Pizza cake" Desmond said,spreading his arms in a theatrical gesture,but Jacob promptly interrupted him,raising a hand and shushing the young Miles.

"We talked about this before,Des.It's birtday pizza.No discussion," Jacob replied,speaking seriously to say the least. "It is law!" he then proclaimed,roughly smashing his fist in the table,making the flame of the candles tremble.

Ezio heard Y/n laughing behind him,her hands were now wrapped gently around his neck.Pressing a long,chaste kiss on his bearded cheek,she whispered to him:

"The surprise has to wait"

~~~~~~

°°°¡TrAnSlAtIoNs!°°°

"Santo Dio!" = Good God;

"Zitto" = Shut up;

"Cosa?Fammi vedere!Non c'è un cazzo di specchio in questa cazzo di casa?!" = What?Let me see!There's not a fucking mirror in this fuckint house?!;

"Basta!" = Enough;

"Vieni qui" = Come here;

"Quanto posso amarti?" = How much can I love you?

[illyrianbeauty]

A Not So Chance Encounter: Chapter 26

Rhys is persuaded to attend a fundraiser by his cousin Mor. He didn’t expect to meet the girl of his dreams.

Fic Masterlist

Writing Masterlist

Chapter 26: The trouble is, you think you have time

Ok... so it’s been like almost been a year since I’ve update this. Thank you all for being so supportive these last few months! It’s definitely been a struggle, but things are much better now that my Tamlin is out of my life! 

Please let me know what you think! I love getting comments and constructive criticism! Enjoy! ~Rachel

*** 

Rhys often looked back on his misadventures during his adolescent years and wondered how the fuck he, Az, and Cass were still alive.  Az, arguably the most levelheaded of the family, had often grumbled about his and Cassian’s antics, even going so far as to keep a running tab on the outcomes of their plans, and the inevitable disasters that followed.  Points were earned for both creativity and daring, while any scheme that resulted in major bodily harm, or their parents finding out, resulted in a substantial loss of points.  Last he had checked, Rhys was in the lead, ahead of Cass by a whooping eleven points.  

One of Rhys’s best ideas, and therefore the most idiotic, had led to them breaking into Adventure Island, aptly referred to as Ghost Town in the Sky by Prythian’s elite.  The events leading up to the water park being shut down had become somewhat of an urban legend in their community, and one of the reasons it had since become a popular spot for keggers and raves alike.  The enormous waterslides, a mismatched heap of tarnished metal and graffiti, were as recognizable in Prythian’s skyline as The Heptagon itself, the city’s sleek, pristine capital building.

Born out of severe boredom and an astronomical amount of tequila shots, Rhys had suggested that they climb to the top of The Leviathan, the largest attraction that was still standing in the abandoned park.  Just as Rhys had predicted, Cassian had flashed him a shit eating grin and motioned for Rhys to lead the way. They were nearly to the top of the structure when the rung on which Cassian was standing gave way.  Rhys, a good fifteen feet above Cass, was too far away to do anything except stare in utter horror as Cass dangled from the tips of his fingers, nearly two hundred feet in the air.  By the time Rhys had climbed down, Cassian had already hoisted himself up onto the platform, out of harm’s way.  They had all laughed themselves silly once they were safely on the ground, but Rhys had seen the fear in Cassian’s eyes as the corroded hunk of metal struck the ground far below them.  

That had been the first time in his life that Rhys had felt completely and utterly useless.  He never told anyone, especially not to Cass or Az, but the feeling of inadequacy and helplessness he had felt in that moment, nearly crippling in its intensity, had haunted him for weeks after that reckless night.  

That same feeling, the horrible realization that he was wholly incapable of helping those he loved, settled deep into his bones, into his very soul, as pain flashed across the delicate features of Feyre’s face.    

“You’ve won, Mara.  I’m yours.  Just… just let her go.  Please,” Rhys begged, the words tasing lake ash in his mouth.  Feyre narrowed her eyes, giving him a look that clearly said Shut the fuck up and get me out of here.  Asshole.  Tearing his gaze from Feyre’s, he forced himself to meet Amarantha’s cold, calculating stare.  It was almost poetic, this disaster his life had become.  A nightmare that he couldn’t seem to escape, no matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried.  His past had been resurrected, brought back to haunt him, and was hellbent on destroying his future.  The future he so desperately wanted to share with Feyre.  He could see it all so clearly.  The life they could have had together, the love they could have shared.  His heart ached knowing it was over, before it even had a chance to begin.  Rhys scarcely dared breathe as he took a single step forward, towards Feyre.   

“Ah ah ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Amarantha chided, slowly running the tip of her blade across Feyre’s bottom lip, not hard enough for it to cut into her flesh, but enough to get her point across.  Rhys raised his hands placatingly, and moved back a fraction of an inch.  

“Good boy,” Amarantha purred, the corners of her mouth twisting into a hateful little smirk.  She grasped Feyre’s chin, wrenching her head to the side roughly.  

“Where shall we begin?” she mused, scrutinizing Feyre’s face as though she were an artist inspecting canvass.  Feyre wrenched her chin from Amarantha’s grasp.  

“You crazy, fucking bitch,” Feyre snarled, her expression nearly feral.  She tilted her head back and spat at Amarantha.  Rhys almost felt like laughing at Feyre’s audacity.  Almost.  The look of unmitigated rage that burned in her eyes made his blood ran cold, stopping the smallest chuckle from passing his lips.  His breath hitched as Amarantha unhurriedly ran a hand across her check, wiping away any traces of the spittle.  Her expression was fierce, a promise of retribution, both swift and brutal, was etched across her features.    

Amarantha clucked her tongue and said, “Naughty, naughty.”  His brave, beautiful Feyre glared defiantly at Amarantha.  The two woman stood there for a moment, regarding each other carefully.  Every single one of his instincts was roaring at him, urging him to get Feyre far away from this place.  Beads of sweat trickled down the nape of his neck, his breathing growing increasingly difficult.    

Faster than he was able to anticipate, she lashed out, her movements both practiced and graceful, and plunged the blade deep into Feyre’s thigh.  Rhys had never heard anything as terrifying, as devastating, as Feyre’s piercing, shrill scream.  His stomach heaved at the site of the pink stiletto handle jutting out of her flesh.  Blood gushed from the wound, soaking the denim of her jeans and pooling onto the floor.   

“Hush now pet, “  Amarantha cooed, caressing Feyre’s cheek.  Her fingers, wet with blood, left crimson trails across Feyre’s skin.  

“What do you want?” Rhys asked, his voice coming out in a hoarse, broken rasp, betraying the fear roiling violently through him.   Amarantha turned to face him fully, ignoring Feyre completely.  If he could just keep her occupied… 

Amarantha cocked her head to the side, considering his question.   

“Why Rhysand, I thought that it was quite obvious,” she purred, taking a step towards him.    Good.  He needed to get her the fuck away from Feyre.   

“Why don’t you just explain it to me,” he said, taking a step back, his eyes darting back and forth rapidly, gauging the distance between her and Feyre. 

“What I want, my love, is for you to suffer,” she said, practically spitting out the last word.  Amarantha closed the distance between them, her eyes never once leaving his.  She stopped only when she was a hair's breadth away.  Her expression was murderous, rage radiating off her in violent waves.  As she leaned towards him, Rhys had to force himself to stand his ground, to not recoil from her touch  Her lips grazed the shell of his ear as she whispered, “I want to watch you break.  I want to watch you crumble as I destroy everyone and everything that you love.”  Her words hit Rhys like a punch to the gut.  Deep down, he had always known that this would happen, had come to expect it.  He had always known that he was tainted, cursed.  Those whom he loved inevitably ended up suffering.  First his mother and sister.  Now Feyre.  He knew that he had absolutely no chance of walking out of this house alive.  It was far too late for him.  But Feyre didn’t need to share his fate.  He would do whatever he had to to make sure she got out of this fucking mess he had gotten her into.  When she was out, when she was safe, he was going to bring this entire fucking house down around Amarantha.  If Rhys was going to hell, then he was damn well going to take Amarantha with him.  

“For fucks sake Rhys, just punch the bitch and get me the hell out of here,” Feyre sobbed, her face growing paler by the second.  The air was heavy with the coppery scent of blood.  It oozed out of the wound and down her leg, pooling on the ground at her feet at an alarming rate.  She was loosing too much, too quickly.  He needed to get her out of here.  Now.  Amaranths’s heels clacked against the cement floor as she stalked towards Feyre.    

“Such dramatics,” she murmured, running a hand through Feyre’s hair.  She shrank back, her body seeming to cave in on itself as Amarantha wound a strand of her golden- brown hair around a finger.  

Now was his chance, while Amarantha was distracted.  He had to do something, before Feyre bled to death before his eyes.  Ever so slowly, Rhys reached for his weapon, praying Amarantha wouldn’t sense his movements.  He removed the gun from his waistband, his eyes never leaving Amarantha’s form.  Rhys winced as he disengaged the safety, the sound seeming to reverberate throughout the entire room.  

“Amarantha, step away from her now,” he said, fighting to keep his hand steady as he aimed the gun directly at her chest.  Amusement danced in her eyes as she took in the weapon he held.  Feyre hissed as Amarantha’s hand grazed across the hilt of the stiletto, still imbedded deeply in her leg, as she walked around to Feyre’s other side.  Fuck.  Amarantha had effectively positioned Feyre between them, using her body like some sort of fucking human shield.  Amarantha smirked at him, with an air of someone who was about to be named the fucking Queen of Prythian, not someone who had a fucking gun pointed at them.  

“You disappoint me Rhysand,” she said, disdain dripping off of her every word. 

“Get away from her,” he growled.  

“Oh, I don’t think so,” she said, resting her hands lightly on Feyre’s shoulders.  

“Don’t make me shoot you, Mara,” Rhys warned, taking a step towards her.

“Put down the gun Rhysand,” she purred, the tips of her nails scraping along the skin of Feyre’s neck.

“Get the fuck away from her right now,” he yelled, a note of desperation filling his voice.  

“Why would I do that? Things are just starting to get interesting.”  

“Is this just some fucking game to you?” he snapped, losing the tenous hold he had on his temper.  

“Of course it’s a game silly.  One I intend to win.” 

Terror overtook his expression as Amarantha’s hands roughly wrapped around Feyre’s neck.  Her beautiful, stormy grey blue eyes met his, full of fear and another emotion he couldn’t quite name.   

Feyre’s lips trembled slightly as she gasped out, “Rhys, I…”

Before either of them could react, Amarantha snapped Feyre’s neck with a vicious twist of her hands.  Rhys collapsed to the ground, his knees striking the ground with a resounding thud as he watched the light fade from her eyes.  

***

If I you would like to be added to the tag list, just let me know!If I left you off the tag list, or it didn’t work, please send me a message!! I try to be really organized with the tag lists, but I do make mistakes!

Always and Forever Tag List:  // @abillionlittlepieces // @acer6437 // @a-court-of-dreams-and-hopes // @a-court-of-gays-and-glitter // @acourtofglass // @aelinarcheron7 // @aelins-fire-queen // @aelinthemaassassin // @alexisnm95 // @amazinginglyawesomeperson // @ame233 // @amren-firedrake // @amusedowl // @armixers-unite // @azrielismycinnamonrollprimary// @bitchypan // @bookaholic1012 // @booklover04 // @brittpeterson // @burritowithfeels // @carlyrollsroyce​ // @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks // @danieldesario // @dreamerforever-5 // @ellenoftroy // @eve-of-the-night-court // @faelightsstarfall // @faequeenaelin // @fangirltrash74 // @feeoly // @feyrecursebreaker // @feysand-dot-acotar​ // @fireheart-of-your-dreams // @floramagix // @fucking-winchester-trash // @highlady-of-dusk // @highladyofidris // @highladyofthesith​ // @highlordrhysie // @highqueenofelfhame // @homicidalbaker // @howtotameyourillyrian // @illyrian-bookworm // @inaffiare // @inrealiampain // @irrelevant5 // @itsfine-imfine-everythingsfine // @julesherondalex // @kissesforsunshine // @kiss-my-maas // @kitteh-kat // @lemon-check // @leulivy // @librarian-of-orynth // @lorcanswife // @mariamuses // @maastrash // @mikaylamee // @musicmaam // @my-ships-will-never-be-sank // @nalgenewhore // @nomattertheoceans // @notesfromalabprincess // @notyourclassicshadowhunter // @photofeesh // @propagandaprincess // @rainy-bookish-days // @rapunzelswiftie // @ricekrispy // @rhysands-highlady // @running-with-thieves // @sannexwhoops // @schmlip-scribble // @sheburnswithit // @sleeping-and-books // @soccerstud004 // @soparticulaar // @starsofshadowanddust // @summernightskyy // @tangledraysofsunshine // @the-annabethchase // @thelaughingzeebra // @theoceanisnotsilent// @tswaney17 // @urbisie // @vanilla28// @whydoineedtowriteanamehere //

A Not So Chance Encounter Tag List: // @adgedarling // @amren-courtofdreams // @amren-tiny-ancient-one // @anna-swims // @anr2332 // @awkward-avocado-s​ // @becarefuloflove​ // @becausetherearestars​ // @bibliobug​ // @blackjacks-donuts​ // @bookishlybrooke​ // @captain-timetraveldreamer​ // @court-of-fuck-me-daddy​ // @darlinglucien // @darth-aelin-targaryen​ // @d3b0r4l1m4​ // @endlessbookaholic​ // @erulasse // @fannypotters​ // @feyrethedarklady​ // @fireheartbuzzard​ // @goths-eat-electricity​ // @gracek03 // @halfbreedillyrian // @humanformofawettowel​ // @i-am-a-completely-mess​ // @ignite-my-hope​​ // @inez-stark-martell // @kackmack​ // @keladrym99thefangirl​ // @kingdomofbrokenhearts​ // @kiss-my-maas​ // @kylizzles​ // @l0sts0uls1128​ // @magical-peaches // @myfeyrelady​ // @nerdperson524​ // @peach-sm​ // @queen-elain​​ // @queenelainarcheron​ // @ronnuska​ // @rory050 // @soap-is-cool​ // @sophia-of-asgard // @spooky-eyepatch​ // @summertime-acoustic // @theoriginalnapoleon // @theunbecomingofcarly​ // @this-book-girl​ // @throne-of-roses​ // @undercover-suriel​ // @voiceoftheroses​ // @writer-reader-traveller​ // @wolffrising​ //

[freczeyourbrain]

{ʾ⁎ ⊰ alexa demie, cis female, she/her ⊱ i think i just saw BETTY RIZZO walk across trafalgar square, singing to WASABI* ( LITTLE MIX ). you know, the TWENTY FOUR year old BARTENDER? people claim that they are just like RIZZO from GREASE**. it must be because they are CONFIDENT and BRASH as well… though i could be wrong. all i know for sure is that they live at CHICAGO*** apartment. ⌝

alexa, play oops i did it again by queen britney spears!!!

yes, it’s me, bringing in this queen herself miss rizzo. below i’m going to list some bullet points about her past, her present, and little facts about her. i am v excited about this kiddo and all the things in my brain about her and as always, feel free to hit me on discord and the dms to plot and what not!! 

HERE WE GOOOO! THIS IS THE BIO!

betty christina rizzo was born into the world in a mix of chaos, her mother had decided to leave her father after her second trimester, the question of why had never been answered all her life. even whenever she asked her abuela growing up, she was told to stop prying and be thankful she was here to begin with. it gave her a thick skin, besides, it wasn’t long after she was born that her mother met another man, so at least she had somewhat of a father figure around when he wasn’t drunk out of his mind. 

she didn’t grow up in the nicest home, betty lived with her abuela and abuelito, her mother, her step father (if she could even call him that with no ring on her mother’s finger?), and a few cousins. the house was always loud, crazy, reckless...but for some reason, she found peace in the never ending chaos. 

her relationship with her step father wasn’t exactly healthy, he was a drunk, a mean one at that and even if she begged her mother to kick him out of their lives...she never could. long story short, she didn’t trust the man, and slowly he began to put a wedge between her and her mother with all the fighting and strain. 

in high school, betty decided to start going by her last name, “rizzo”. as a freshman, she entirely rebranded herself. puberty treated her well, but she had always been a “pretty girl”. now that she was older, she was starting to learn that she could use that to her advantage. she was a ruthless flirt, climbing her way up the social ladder fairly quick as she manage to reel in the bad boys of the school with a little bat of her eyes. establishing her own little girl gang, they walked the halls like gods, and she lived for the attention it gave her.

she quickly became a rebel without a cause in school, a common staple of detention and a well known trouble-maker, it wasn’t as if anyone at home was paying attention. the only thing is, rizzo was smart, incredibly so. the amount of times she was told she was wasting her potential by teachers and guidance counselors alike was tiring, she just didn’t care, it wasn’t like she had the money to go to college anyways. her grades were high, but her behavior marks were even higher, rizzo had a mouth on her that just didn’t quit. she didn’t sugar coat things, she was honest to the biggest fault, and people either loved that about her, and hated her for it.

after graduation, it was clear that there was no clear path. soon enough, her mother wanted her out of the house and she knew it was her step father’s idea. funny how a man who couldn’t put a ring on her mother’s finger called the shots on her only child, and after trying to fight it, rizzo gave up. she moved out at eighteen, finding a little apartment to split with her friends still in town, the young girl began to work at a diner in the city to try and pay her bills.

it wasn’t enough, soon she got approached by a night club owner who was in need of a back-up bartender. the first shift she worked, she fell in love. the rush of the crowd, the way she held power behind the bar, they ordered the drinks but she ultimately called the shots. it was like she fell into a groove, she fell in love with the loud music and the environment, and she was a damn good bartender at that. 

soon enough, she was the lead bartender at one of the best night clubs in london, a well known face in the service industry...she was making big money with her regulars and packed nights. it was like being a god damn local celebrity at times, no waiting in lines to get into parties, mingling with the elite socialites, rizzo finally found her thing...but she wanted more. she was a fighter, and when she had a dream, it seemed she wouldn’t stop until she got it.

recently, at twenty four, she has started saving money to open up her own little bar. nothing big and flashy, not a night club but a bar. a place that is it’s own little safe haven. a bar run by women, she wants nothing but the hottest and most confident women in town, the name in flashy pink neon lights “pink ladies”...it’s so close she can taste it.

THE FACTS, THE RUN DOWNS, THE CLIFF NOTES:

so yeah, miss rizzo is a little spit fire. she is a sagittarius woman, born december 12th, and she can be a little bit all over the place. while she is a little bit blunt and in your face, deep down she means well under the hard shell. 

right now, she’s working on opening her own bar called “pink ladies” where each house cocktail is named after her closest gal pals. it’s sort of like the coyote ugly bar, she wants hotties behind the bar and maybe even an occasional dance or two on the bar-top. she wants it rowdy, fun, and reckless. that’s her goal, that’s her big plan, and BY GOLLY, she’s gonna get there.

rizzo is a RAGING bisexual, point blank and the period. if you give her attention, she’s all in for the ride.

she has some commitment issues, which im guessing stems from her childhood being so crazy, or maybe it’s because of her on and off again relationships in high school. who knows?

i’ll add more but for now, this is what i GOT. come love my crazy little bitchy baby <3 

[scatterpatter]

15 w Corren!

15: What is your characters background story?

OHOHO, so I’m going to leave One Detail Out because there’s one part of his backstory I don’t wanna spoil for Jazz yet, but... >:3c

Also it’s under the cut because i totally infodumped and then some OOPSIE

oh also cws: serious illness, death, domestic violence, depression

Corren Hartwell grew up the youngest of 3 siblings, the oldest being his big sis Mila and the middle child being his bro Julian. Their parents were pretty detached emotionally, but that’s pretty par for the course where he was from, and they provided for the kids so it really wasn’t all that bad. Not a perfect family, no fam ever is, but they were happy.

His race’s culture is super inclined to intelligence and studying technology, the mind, etc, so Corren spent his childhood being a total bookworm. Studying history, arcana, all sorts of stuff... he never really minded it, though. He was actually quite good at what he did! 

Mila was a spellcaster- I honestly forgot what school of magic she was in OOPS, and Julian dual-classed as a Necromancer and Bard! Jules and Mila were both pretty close in age, and they were like besties on top of being siblings, and they’d often team up to do small adventuring jobs: hit up the help wanted board in town and take care of short deliveries or a monster stalking a farm or something like that- both for the thrill and to also earn some extra gold for the family. They loved Corren, but they couldn’t take him with them because it was too dangerous for him since he was still just a little kid. Still, Corren admired them and wanted to be just like them(better, even?) when he grew up! ... Oh yeah I always forget this detail but Corren’s totally trans XD He came out pretty young but his family was chill with it so like... ayyyeee

Though one day, Mila started getting sick. Corren doesn’t really know what it was, but for whatever reason she wasn’t able to heal from it with simple healing spells. It was a slow process, but she was just getting worse instead of better, and one day she passed. The family was a wreck, understandably. The issue is... Corren and Julian had... different ways of grieving. Corr was still young, the equivalent of like someone 10-12 in human years, so he didn’t fully grasp the concept of death just yet. He retreated into himself a lot, had trouble grounding himself to the present and really struggling with depression. Julian, about the equivalent of someone 16-18, had a better understanding of what was going on, but he was wrecked. He wanted their sister back, and was so upset he couldnt do anything... but he wanted to try. He ended up doing something rash, and... well, spoilers ;) (dont worry he didnt hurt Corren or anyone else, but... he Fucked Up in what he tried doing)

Things quickly went downhill from there for the Hartwells. There was often a lot of fighting between Julian and their parents, or Corren would be chided for being unable to focus, like, at all, and... Corren and Jules never really fought, but there was a clear rift between them after what happened. They still loved each other, but it was so obvious their relationship would never be like what it was when Mila was still around, and that hurt both of them so much.

A few months later, things reached a boiling point and Julian was kicked out of their home. Before he left, though, he found Corren and gave him something: a small amethyst pendant on a necklace chain, something Julian used to always wear. They made a promise that this wasn’t gonna be goodbye, that they’d find each other again, and then Jules was gone. It was just Corren and his mom and dad.

Things were still strained, and Corren just did his best to keep to his studies to distract himself from everything. Not wanting Corren to end up like his brother, his parents forbade anything necrotic in the magic he learned. The problem was... Corren still loved Julian. And still wanted to be like him, to a point, so... he would study necromancy in secret. It was kinda like his little lifeline like “hey Jules is still here to an extent if I know the spells he does”, and things seemed to be going okay, for the most part

Well uh... one day his father caught him practicing his necromancy and... well, was far from happy about it. An argument quickly erupted between them both, a lot of yelling back and forth, and before Corr could react properly, his father grabbed something from the desk and struck him with it, giving him a pretty bad cut across his right eye(the smol scar I always draw? Yeah...). In a panic, Corren’s flight of fight kicked in as he cast a magic missile at his father in retaliation. Corren isn’t sure if his attack just stunned, knocked out, or killed his father, but the flight of fight-or-flight kicked in as he just ran from the situation. He had no idea what he was to do or where to go, but he just knew he couldn’t go back home after that.

SO this poor kid, probably the equivalent of a 14-15 y/o, is out on his own now... and he sure does his best. He mainly spends his time hopping from town to town, taking up small jobs to get some gold in his pockets, and is just... focusing on surviving. Going from this sheltered lifestyle to suddenly on the streets was a wake-up call and then some, but he found ways to make it work. Luckily his background of studying all the time gave him enough intelligence to take up tasks others weren’t as capable of, but it was still... far from easy. But he made it work!

One day he’s in a city known as Lilenthemar, just taking a break in one of the town squares, when an Elven man takes a seat on the bench next to him. They both sit in a comfortable silence for a while... but the elf then strikes a conversation. Corren, socially awkward like no tomorrow, tries to keep up the conversation... key word tries. The man introduces himself as Jethro, and I imagine the conversation took a turn like this:

Jethro: I don’t see many Marelienths around here, are you new in town?

Corren: Yeah, just passing through I guess. ... Gotta say, wasn’t expecting to see the Dragon Saint of the Green as I came here, though.

Jethro, laughing: Ah, yes, Raerose. Don’t worry, he’s a kind dragon. Though, it’s certainly surprising to those who are new to the city.

Corren: Oh, no, I know all about Raerose and his connections to this city and the Edgewoods. I just wasn’t expecting to... you know, run into his path as quickly as I did.

Jethro: Oh, so you’ve done your research, I take it?

At that point, Corren does what any neurodivergent would do when asked about his hobbies: Infodumps the hell out of what he knows. He’s far from a great scholar, considering he’s only the equivalent of someone 16-21ish at this point and spent quite a few years away from studying in favor of surviving, but he was still very intelligent and knowledgable about what he talked about. Jethro, picking up on this, decided to offer Corren a temporary position as a Family Historian. Jethro was actually a noble, something Corr somehow didn’t pick up on, and not only could’ve used the help... but also, he kiiiinda picked up on the fact that Corren looked like a kid who could use a place to stay for a while. Corren, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, immediately accepted the offer.

Now, Corren wasn’t intending to stay for long. A few months, maybe a year or two... but. He realized he was building a pretty stable life by having a consistent job for the elf- it didn’t make much sense to just leave that in favor of hopping from place to place with no purpose. Not to mention, he was actually growing quite close to his boss. They’d often spent time together during off-hours, sitting in a comfortable quiet, just taking comfort in each other’s presence. Jethro’s actually the only one Corren ever opened up to about his past, and over the years Corren really grew to love him in a strong platonic way. They both struggled with their own grieving, Jethro with his passed wife and son he hadn’t seen in years, and Corren with his passed sister and brother he hadn’t seen in years, which only helped them grow closer, since they understood each other’s pain, in a sense.

He still struggled with depression, but overall Corren was doing pretty damn well in life. ... Many years later, Corren being 44(idk which human-equivalent this would be. Mid-Late 20s? Early 30s?), actually gets to meet Jethro’s son, Jericho, and the party he traveled with... called the F.U.C.K.s. ... I couldn’t make this shit up even if I tried. They needed help getting to a place called the Menoa Tree, which Corren happened to have studied for a long while, so he offered to help the party. ... They totally broke him with their antics. He proceeded to have a mental breakdown in front of them, and essentially went “FUCK THIS IM GOING HOME AND TAKING A NAP”. Jethro got a laugh out of the furious rambling Corren came home with.

... But despite that, something stuck with him. He just couldn’t quite get the party out of his mind. Something about them, as frustrating as they were, was almost... magnetic? ... Well, weeks later, word came to Lilenthemar about a war that had been raging on for years now... but specifically of a battle at a city known as Joshua, the forces being lead by Jericho alongside many others. Jethro was of course worried about his boy... and Corren... well, something in him changed. He wanted to know more about the FUCKs and just WHAT their deal was, and he wanted to ease Jethro’s worries, so... he grabbed a sniper rifle and decided that he’d go help protect Jericho and his friends as they fought. 

He eventually caught up to the party, convinced them to let him help, and after many battles... the war was won(Corren kinda came in at the tail-end of it all). The only thing is... after that, Corren didn’t really want to go home just yet. He actually enjoyed spending time with the party... and then it clicked: They were powerful adventurers who were totally crazy, stupid, and had no sense of self-preservation... they were just like Julian. And Corren loved it, even when they drove him crazy. He felt alive, which is something he realized he hadn’t felt in a long time... and quickly grew attached to his party, Alistair now taking the reigns as leader as Jericho retired from adventuring. And, well, he’s stuck with them ever since!

He still has Julian’s amethyst, as they’ve yet to reunite(yknow, assuming Jules is still alive even), but... certain events are causing some concern with the story I’m telling. Mainly... Corren is slowly facing Aboleth Corruption(he doesn’t know this yet, but is starting to suspect there’s something wrong with him), and that’s causing parts of his memory to be... patchy. Certain things aren’t lining up, and there could be more(or just different altogether) pieces of this story than what I’ve just told... but we’ll have to wait and see until we get to the quest that deals with that before we find out what’s REALLY going on ;)

... HEY UM I HOPE YALL DONT MIND THE IMMENSE INFODUMP IF YOU MADE IT THIS FAR THEN THANK U FOR CARING ABT MY BOI ;-;

[epic-summaries]

Herakles, Destructo-Boi

I see people complain about Classical Mythology and the terrible things the heroes did, even if technically it’s not terrible (coughPerseuscough). Let’s add to the discourse with everyone’s favourite Jerkules! I mean Herakles.

These eyes are the eyes of a monster.

I’m going to complain specifically about Herakles’ city sacking fetish. Once fine, he was still high on that Hera crazy juice. Twice, I’m starting to get worried but the ruler was an asshole. Thrice, ummmm. The fourth time you sack a city I’m calling it a fetish. Now, one man armies aren’t anything new to Ancient Mediterranean mythologies. The other most famous example would be Samson defeating the Philistine army with a donkey jawbone. But as per usual, this is Herakles and Herakles is extreme! He can’t just do everything better than everyone else, but he has to be a thousand times better than everyone else (or else he will kill you coughLinushismusicteachercough).

Elis

So, the twelve labours. It’s a thing Herakles has to do and labour number five is the cleaning of Augeas’ stables (oh who is King of Elis). And this is not the one with the carnivores mares (In the OG Percy Jackson series in book 4, this labour and the labour with the Mares of Diomedes are fused together). This is the stable with the heavenly cattle from Helios that produces a massive amount of dung (for reason? I think Helios finds it funny when he looks down from his chariot because I have no other explanation for this). In this labour, Herakles reroutes a couple of rivers and wow it’s like oxyclean! Sparkly clean stables. But wait, there’s more, the labour is actually considered a foul because Jerkules did not do that work but the rivers did. (Herakles is meant to have ten labour but due to this being discounted and Lerna Hydra being discounted do to him using his sidekick, it became twelve.)

Herakles is pissed that his labour was discounted. This is the second time this happens! And it’s not like Herakles is trying to learn humility and get forgiveness for going into a murderous rage and killing his family. So, Herakles goes into a murderous rage and sacks the city of Elis.

Ormenium

So, Herakles has himself a reputation for being hated by Hera and for destroying cities. Image each time this asshole leaves a city, he leaves it in the same state as Metropolis at the end Man of Steel. Or this:

It’s not a surprise that people don’t want him in their cities. But Herakles wants to go through Ormenium. Amyntor, the King, is like nope, go away. One does not say no to Herakles. So, he sacks the city for daring to say no. Then horndog here fathers a child with the Queen. It was a damned if you do, damned if you don’t kind of situation.

This isn’t the traditional telling of this story, usually he just kills Amyntor and not most of the town, but it is a version I have heard, so I have added it.

Actual response people had when they saw Herakles walking up to their city.

Troy

HOW MANY GODDAMN TIMES DOES THIS CITY NEEDS TO BE SACKED?! But Herakles can’t miss out on the most famous story of Greek Mythology. But it doesn’t match the timeline? (Now they care about a timeline!) So, let’s make One-Man-Mongol-Army sack Troy before the more infamous sack of Troy. Guys you’re making the Achaeans’ awesome feat seem way less impressive. Like, Achilles how can’t you sack Troy? Herakles did it by himself a generation ago! You guys are pathetic. SMH.

Anyway, what excuse did the Greek give for Herakles to sack this wonderous city? (I know there’s mentions in the Iliad of Herakles sacking the city). Long story short, Poseidon is pissed at the city for reasons that we will not go into here. So, Laomedon (Priam’s father, so Hector and Paris’ grandfather) does an Agamemnon before Agamemnon was born, and decides to sacrifice his daughter, Hesione, to appease a god. But before that can happen Herakles pops up out of nowhere and is like I’ll kill the monster crab for you! But wait, there’s more, he’s not going to do this for free. Oh no, he wants the magical horse Zeus gave the city when he kidnapped Ganymede (because the proper replacement for a person is a magical horse?). Laomedon is like sure. So, Herakles slays the monster. Laomedon does the faithful mistake and says well maybe we want to keep the horse. Did no one learn from Minos and the White Bull?

Anyway, Herakles sacks the city, with a couple of friends. Kills the entire royal family minus Priam because Priam gave Herakles a golden veil made by Hesione (so he likes shiny things). Hesione is taken away and forced to marry Telamon and thus Teucer is born. Um, so Hesione’s life sucks.

Proud father Zeus watching this from Olympus.

Oechalia

So, we all remember that time Hera drove Herakles crazy and forced him to terrrifyingly murder his wife and children? Right? Well the people of Herakles’ time certainly did not forget. Because who can forget that? So, even remembering this, this story is still messed up.

This is how it starts, Herakles sees the Princess Iole and goes me horny (I see the apple didn’t fall far from the Olympian tree). He finds out to marry the princess he must beat her dad, King Eurytus, in an archery contest. Eurytus here is one of the best archers in all of Greece, but he’s about to go against Herakles and anything you can do, Herakles can do better.

Herakles enters the competition and to no one but King Eurytus’ surprise Herakles looks like he is going to win. So, King Eurytus very much not wanting second most famous wife killer after Henry VIII, Herakles, as a son-in-law, stops the competitions. We’ve learned by now, no one tells Herakles no. Iphitos, Eurytus’s son, Argonaut and Herakles’ friend, asks his dad to reconsider. King Eurytus is in a pickle, let Jerkules here take his daughter and possibly murder her, or say no and suffer other conquences? A real Sophie’s Choice here. But then one of the King’s mares is stolen and Iophitos asks Herakles to get her back. Herakles of course does this, because he is such a great guy, then drinks some Hera crazy juice (allegedly) and throws Iphitos over the walls of Oechalia. He’s dead, very much dead. And King Eurytus says, naw, I’m not going to let you marry my daughter.

Then, Herakles meets Deianira (aka wife number three) and King Eurytus must think he’s safe. No. You are never safe from Destructo-Boi! Because Herakles can never let anything go, he comes back and sacks the city and kills all the males in the royal family. Ioles, who btw does not have the hots for ultimate Chad, Herakles (understandably), tries to jump off the walls of the city. But wait, her clothes are secretly a parachute (for some reason in a world full of monsters and magic, the most unbelievable thing to me is that a woman’s clothes turns into a parachute), and she lands perfectly fine. Herakles rapes her and keeps her as a ”paramour” (people call it was it is, she’s his sex salve).

Me punching Herakles for being an asshole.

Then, Herakles is killed by his wife, but that’s a post for a different day. Also, Herakles had to become Omphale’s salve for the murder of Iphitos, which I would like to ask, does Herakles ever get punish for things he actual does or for only things when he’s under the influence of Hera’s crazy juice? Because I’m pretty sure going all Danearys on a town on your own free will is punishable, but apparently I am wrong.

That random voice in Disney’s Hercules was right, Destructo-Boi should be his super-hero name.

[spookyspaghettisundae]

Thirteen-One, part 5

Amy’s hands trembled like leaves in the wind. Even when she tried to suppress it, tried to focus, and tried to calm herself down—the coffee mug in her hand shook, and the liquid inside of it threatened to slosh over the edge after taking a sip.

She set it down and stared at the nondescript disc that sat on the surface of her desk. Seth had given it to her. In her heart of hearts, she knew it contained another strange video. And that she would not be able to unsee whatever it would show her. What it would show her about herself.

Amy dreaded to watch that video. A single tear dropped onto the transparent jewel case.

She switched her computer on and inserted the disc. Waiting for the system to boot up took way too long. Her heart raced. Her fingers tapped on the edge of the desk.

Finally she opened it up, double-clicked, and started viewing the video.

The image was black. Something rustled. The camera automatically focused on a face. Contrary to what she expected—to see her own face in the picture like the last time she had watched one of these bizarre videos—she beheld Seth’s face instead. He sighed and slumped into a chair in front of the running camera.

It was the same dingy room that she had seen herself in, on the previous recording that these psychopaths had given her. This too, showed her something she could not remember.

“Thirteen-One is here, and Scott is—he is dead. My rage with Sara was not as much as a drawback as he initially thought,” Seth spoke into the camera. His eyes glistened with tears and he croaked out some of the words.

“By the way—I hate that Amy doesn’t accept what she really is,�� he continued. His voice shook with what could only have been sadness or rage. “Twenty-Four-Five and Twelve-Twelve have accepted it. I accepted it.”

He trembled as he screamed, the sudden outburst blending into his next words, “Why doesn’t she?”

Seth breathed, his chest heaved, he took what felt like an eternity to settle back down in this rickety old wooden chair. Watching the unsettling scene unfold, Amy hugged herself. She sat on the edge of her seat, absorbed by Seth’s monologue in this video.

“It doesn’t matter,” Seth sighed. “Now it’s just about—we gotta end the game, complete the pentagram, perfect the circle. I’m certain now—Thirteen-One is to blame for Amy’s fever-like states and dreams. Can’t expect any useful contributions from her, now.”

He looked away from the camera and stared into the distance. Almost as if he had heard someone or something. When his gaze returned to fixate on the camera’s lens, he said, “If you ask her what happened to Scott, she says he moved to France. I guess that means she’s suppressing the truth, or something. Like she doesn’t know what happened. So I’m beginning to wonder—is Amy the right one for Thirteen-One? Is Thirteen-One the right one for Amy?”

Seth set his jaw during the silence that followed. Outside Amy’s house, the rain set it—first tapping against the shuttered windows and roof with a subtle pitter-patter, then transitioning into a drumming downpour.

She refused to believe what she was hearing Seth say in the video. Scott was not dead. He was in France.

Seth and the other jerks from this weird cult had to be gaslighting her.

Right?

“We’re waiting for answers, but I’m sick and fuckin’ tired of waiting,” Seth said, closing his eyes. “I’m gonna scour the tomes, and see if I can’t get some damned answers myself.”

Before Amy’s consciousness could fully absorb Seth’s video, he got up and reached towards the camera. The video turned to a static of black and white, and the audio died.

Amy’s hand rested on the computer mouse, pale as a corpse once more, then moved the input device with the intention of closing the video and clicking everything away. But before she could close the player, the static ceased to display and made way for something else. A dark picture, a close-up of someone’s mouth.

Screaming. The video had no audio, but judging by the cracked lips and the way the mouth moved, it had to be screams of agony.

It looked like Scott’s mouth, which she knew intimately from all the times they had kissed in the past. Amy stared at the video, expecting to see something else, hoping to see something that would prove her instincts wrong, praying silently for this to stop on its own or someone to jump out of hiding and tell her she was being punked.

None of that.

Just more screams. Although no audio escaped her computer’s speakers while the mouth’s teeth gritted in pain before gnashing and then stretching wide open to scream yet more, she heard dark whispers in the back of her head. The whispers were not really there—she was not going crazy, at least not yet—but she felt like they should have been there. Like she could have heard the whispers in the background, chanting, while this poor person—not-Scott, she wished, over and over again—screamed.

Amy closed the player before the video ended. It had only a few seconds left, anyway.

She refused to believe.

She removed the disc from her computer’s drive with an almost eerie calm about her. Then she snapped it in half and, without looking, tossed it at the trash bin nearby. She missed and the plastic parts clattered onto the floor.

Blood dripped from her bandaged hand, soiling the wooden floorboards underneath her desk chair.

Walking through the fog and the rain, the world passed by Amy in a trance. A familiar yet distorted voice responded to her at the building’s intercom after she rang the bell to Seth’s apartment, but it was not Seth on the other end. It was the one she expected to answer, for some reason. Like this strange world she lived in was beginning to make sense, like everybody was falling into place within a strange, dysfunctional order.

Inside the apartment, she sat on the couch once more, the water dripping from her leather jacket, the fabric of the sofa soaking it all up in dark spots. She sat across from Adam, and had buried her face in her hands. She had told Adam everything she had experienced in the past few days.

“I don’t know what you could’ve done,” Adam told her. Unlike in their last conversation, he sat up straight. Did not distract himself with booze or smoking. “Don’t know if the cops could—or would—do anything right about this.”

“They know where I live,” Amy said. “They know what I’m thinking. They know what I’m afraid of. What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, but why the hell did you come here, of all places? To Seth’s apartment?”

Amy looked up at him and shook her head, replying, “I don’t know. Maybe this is the last place they’ll look for me. Maybe I need to warn you, too. Maybe you’re in danger, too.”

Adam shrugged, but the contortion of his face betrayed the uneasiness that had claimed his heart.

“Eh, I have nothing to do with anything. Seth hasn’t been here in all this time, ever since the last little shindig here. Also, I’m not really part of the gang you all had together, back then, so, eh, y'know. Screw it.”

Adam scratched his head, first lightly, and then with more fervor and irritation. No itch made him do that, only confusion.

And fear.

“There’s something you’re not telling me, I feel like,” Adam said. His words and thoughts trailed off.

“I—I can't—I can’t really say,” Amy stammered.

“Go find Steve, okay? Tell him. Go take him somewhere, outside of this garbage town. Better yet, go to the big city together, or to his parents and spend some time there. Just take some vacation.”

“But—”

“No, I know I’m full of bad habits and worse advice, but this time, you should listen to me.”

A silence draped itself over them. It dragged on while Amy pondered his suggestions.

Adam asked, “Okay?”

More silence followed.

He asked again, “Okay?”

“Okay,” Amy sighed.

The doorbell rang. Not the doorbell to Seth’s apartment, but the one to Steve’s. Elsewhere. He approached the door, unlocked it, and swung it open.

Amy stood there, greeted him wordlessly. Her eyes spoke volumes of desperation. They fell into each other’s arms, then they kissed. Amy’s passion suffered and Steve must have sensed her dwindling energy and broken confidence. He responded with all his affection.

She wanted to say something, but he placed his index finger upon her lips to shush her.

Amy spoke anyway, “I need to leave for a while. A few days. Maybe a week.”

Steve took his finger away and his brow arched.

“What? Where to?”

Amy slipped out of the embrace, but held his hands in hers.

“It’s gonna sound weird, but—just—away from here. Away from everything here.”

Normally, a confident sense of humor rode on every single line Steve uttered, but now he sounded like the words she said had wounded him when he asked, “Even away from me?”

Amy fought back the tears and her chin crinkled.

“There are people in my life. Here—I just—I just need some distance. It’ll just be for a little while?”

“Wait, is this some sort of break-up thing?”

“Please—this isn’t. No, this has got nothing to do with you.”

Steve shook his head, defied that, “What the hell? Of course it’s got something to do with me. I hear you talking. You’re telling me how you feel. Or are some sort of fairies talking through your mouth now?”

He gave her a lopsided grin.

“Alright, I guess I understand. I’m not gonna ask any more questions if you don’t wanna answer. Just, like, promise me you’ll explain everything when you get back? Or this all blows over? Whatever this is.”

Amy did not reply to that with words, only with a feeble smile. Heartfelt, but as feeble as Seth and the cult had rendered her now.

“So, when are you leaving?”

“I think right now. That would be best.”

Steve leaned left and then right, looking at her from different angles in a playful fashion.

“Gonna miss me?”

A feeble giggle escaped her, fitting the feeble smile that he had provoked from her. He returned a wide warm smile. He dragged her inside—she let him. He kicked the door shut behind them and they wound up on the couch in a loving embrace. Hands glided underneath shirts. Warm lips connected. Fingers interlocked.

Then the memories of Scott welled up. Amy started seeing Scott there instead of Steve. Instead of kissing Steve, she kissed Scott. The texture of their hands felt different, rougher, callused.

She felt like throwing up.

Steve pushed her up and away from himself. He stared at her in disbelief, sensing the distance and her growing discomfort.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Amy said. “Well, fuck, I don’t know. Too many fairies around, I guess.”

“Fuck those fairies.”

She snuggled up to him again and nuzzled his neck. Steve wrapped his arms around her and they lied there for a long and quiet minute.

“I’ll always be there for you. I just wish—I hope I can stop being afraid,” she said.

Steve stared her in the eyes and said, “You don’t have to be afraid. I’m here for you, too.”

“But I’m afraid of myself, babe. This fear—I’m the only one who can take it away.”

Lost in each other’s gazes, lost in a sea of timelessness, they both spoke at the same time when they next whispered to one another, “I love you.”

Meanwhile, figures dressed in black opened the front door and walked into Steve’s apartment. Hooded and masked to conceal their features, the faceless intruders each carried something different with them—a metal baseball bat, a bike chain, a metal pipe, and a knife. The couple did not notice these four men sneaking up on them.

Until it was too late.

—Submitted by Wratts

[crimenight-a]

ONE OF THE MOST FAMOUS ATTRIBUTES ASSOCIATED WITH BATMAN is his seemingly uncaring    &    stoic nature.    it’s also one of the generalizations i openly despise;    the more recent batman media has shaped our understanding of his person in the wrong way.    while i agree that he does seem cold at times,    it’s not for the reason most people immediately think.    so,    in this meta,    i’m going to walk you through bruce’s story    &    explain why he is the way he is.

first,    i want to address the general perception concerning his emotional state.    readers/watchers,    alike,    think bruce’s apathetic nature is related to his trauma.    they’re only half right,    for it did indirectly lead him to change his outward expression of self,    but it’s not the direct reason.    even characters in the DC universe comment on bruce’s apparent lack of distress-like emotions:

❝   your ward    &    my daughter are in mortal danger !    indeed,    batman, they may already be dead !   yet you show no signs of agitation–   nor do you exhibit any curiosity concerning my humble self !    have you no feelings ?   ❞                                                                                                                                    -- batman (1940) #232

ra’s al ghul says this upon meeting bruce for the first time    &    enlisting his help in saving his daughter,    talia al ghul.    we see many variations of this repeat with superman,    wonder woman,    green lantern,    the flash,    &   many more.    so,    it’s not only the general public in our world that thinks batman doesn’t feel anything,    that thought process is also preserved in characters from within DC’s universe.    another type of media that’s to blame are the comedic types.    there’s so many cartoons    &    comics that depict a younger bruce to be very stoic    &    cold,    batman’s voice    &    intimidating nature are ridiculed by many heroes   (  i’m looking at you,    mcu tony/peter   ).   i won’t deny that these moments are very funny    (   especially when DC retaliates like in that batman lego movie where batman screams ‘IRON MAN SUCKS!’   ),   but in actuality,    it still adds to this prevailing idea that he really feels nothing.    i won’t lie   &    say i thought differently before i made this blog,    because i didn’t.    much to my surprise,    however,    it only took me a few issues from detective comics/the original batman run to understand that we’ve been wrong all along.

you may now be asking,    ‘if he’s not truly uncaring,    then why does he act like he is ?’    well,    let me point you to this single issue that i wish i could have every one of these new writers that dc hires read,    it’s detective comics’ (1989) second annual issue    (   if you’re interested,    you can read it here !     although,    a quick warning that this issue deals with the K/KK    &   it’s displayed as such on the cover;    be careful if you decide to read   ).   it follows a young bruce,    only seventeen    (   already quite buff    &   skilled,    might i add   ),   who asks to shadow a famous detective in what i believe is rural new jersey.    harvey harris was hailed to be one of the greatest detectives on the east coast,    there was nothing he couldn’t handle.    at that point,    bruce didn’t really know how he was going to go about waging a war on crime    (   he juggled with options like the FBI,    GCPD,    district attorney,    more legal positions   ),   but he knew detective work was something he’d probably have to do no matter what he chose.    so,    he sent a letter to harris,    asking to shadow him under the name frank dixon,    harris accepted with a warning that the case he had on his hands was incredibly violent    &    horrific.    throughout this issue,    we see many instances where bruce lets his emotions get the better of him    &    it ultimately leads to harris’s demise    (    indirectly,    yes,    but this is a pattern in bruce’s story.    if he did just one thing differently,    he could have saved his parents,    harvey harris,    &    COUNTLESS more people.    the fact haunts him to this day    ).   bruce    &    harris eventually track down the person who has been killing people in that small rural town,    &    he sees that he’s in the process of another murder.    i’m sure you can guess what bruce did,    he screamed    &    lunged for the man in a hot flash of rage,    the man pulls a gun.    bruce knocks him out in one swift punch,    but the gun still goes off    &    it, unfortunately,    hits harris.    in his dying moments,    he tells bruce something that sticks with him still to this day:

❝   i never tried to teach you detection.    you already got the mind for it.    but when you let your emotions take control,    you just go blind.    i don’t know where you’re headed from here,    bruce,    but wherever it is,    remember…    you gotta control that anger.    when you get that into your head– really know it– then ol’ harvey will have done right by you.   ❞                                                                                                             -- detective comics (1989) annual #2

harris had been commenting on bruce’s anger for the entire time they’ve been together,    &    we can really see how bruce struggles with understanding his own emotions through his many warnings:

❝   nice spottin’,    by the way.    now,    if we could just do somethin’ about that temper..   ❞ ❝   son,    it’s rare i see a man who carries such rage so close to the surface.   ❞ ❝   harvey was right.    because i was a hothead..  ❞    (   bruce says this   )

the thing is,    bruce had been incredibly polite to mostly everyone.    the only times he lost his cool is when people didn’t cooperate with him    &    harris on the case,    or if they made fun of him for being a “pretty,    city boy.”    most of the time,    harris had to physically hold bruce back from doing something he’d quickly regret,    such as picking a fight with grown men twice his size    (   i would like to proudly add that bruce beat these guys shitless,    but they trashed his fancy red porsche :/   ).   i know i’m spending a lot of time on this single annual,    but it’s SO important when you realize that bruce really does have anger management issues to the point where he can’t hold back his own outbursts.    let’s compare that younger bruce to the one we know today,    there’s quite a stark difference,    isn’t there ?   the batman we’re familiar with would never jump into anything without thinking about it many times over.    that’s because bruce took what harris said to heart,    &    he worked damn hard to implement his advice:

❝   i had a crazy hate,    too.    but unlike carr,    i refused to let it blind me to reality.    to the truth.    i went over the entire case eleven times,    in each instances extracting more    &    more of my emotional involvement.    &    on the twelfth pass through–a coldly logical pass–i saw what had been bothering me.    &    i knew that it wasn’t over.   ❞                                             note: carr is the murderer that bruce lunged at    &    the one that killed harris.

for us,    removing our emotions    &    thinking about something logically can range from being impossible to incredibly difficult.    imagine,    then,    the mental strength bruce,    a boy who had always been obnoxiously transparent with his feelings,    had to exert in order to go through this case without feeling some immense distracting rage    (   this ties into one of his character’s core ideas:    batman’s will/willpower is insurmountable compared to even other superheroes    ).   he eventually found out that carr was nothing more than a human weapon that someone else had been manipulating,    but the point is:    bruce realized through this issue that he wasn’t good at solving cases because he could never separate his own emotions from the victim’s.    from then on,    he tried his best to be “coldly logical” with every case he comes across,    &    he eventually adopted this state of mind when he was in the batsuit regularly.    being batman requires a ridiculously high amount of awareness    &    general perception.    if he’s constantly angry    &    jumping to rash conclusions,    he’s not going to last long.

however,    this doesn’t mean that bruce doesn’t slip up    &    let his emotions get the best of him even as an adult.    one of the most apparent examples of this is when jason dies.    i think most of us know how terrible that was    &    how bruce blames himself.    in order to keep this meta from getting unnecessarily longer,    all we need to take away from that arc is that bruce quite honestly drowns with guilt because if he had chosen to go after jason instead of go after someone else,    jason would still be alive.    with that anger directed at himself    &    at the world in general,    he recklessly starts to fight anyone he sees while in the batsuit.    even petty criminals would be beaten within an inch of their lives,    he’d make mistakes that he never did before,    &    come home with horrible injuries.    he had no sense of self-preservation,    all he cared about was his anger    &    guilt.    notice how throwing caution to the wind puts bruce in considerably more danger,    thus this supports my point that bruce struggles with his emotions,    but learned to suppress them for the sake of helping    &    saving people.

it actually surprises me when people don’t seem to realize that bruce is empathetic almost to a fault.    he holds onto hope,    &    he always had,    even if it’s foolish to do so.    hope that someone is still alive,    hope that someone still had good in them,    hope in his own abilities.    there was once a case where the entire bat-family understood immediately that a boy had killed his own parents,    but bruce clung to the hope that maybe it wasn’t him,    maybe it was some other greedy politician or hired gun.    bruce knew he was wrong    &    that he was chasing essentially no one,    but the sheer hope that the boy was innocent kept him going in circles.    i wholeheartedly believe that bruce is an empath,    someone who is incredibly sensitive to another’s emotions,    with how quickly he understands how almost everyone feels.    there are times where bruce will show compassion before he shows anything else.    yes,    he aims to scare people with his dramatic antics:

❝   gotham city is hell.    we are all in hell.    &    i am the king of hell !   ❞                                                                                                      -- batman: legends of the dark knight #6

but the purpose of his promise was to make sure nothing like what happened to him ever happens to someone else again.    i’ve said this before,    &    i’ll say it again:    BATMAN IS A GLORIFIED BABYSITTER.    really,    scarecrow said this    &    i stole it from him,    but he wants to care for his city.    that’s why he funds all these free health clinics throughout gotham,    it’s why he opened new soup kitchens    &    funded existing ones.    he revolutionized gotham’s orphanage system,    he forced wayne enterprises to make new jobs,    he single-handedly dropped gotham’s unemployment rate by a substantial amount.    he hands money    &    opportunities to struggling families,    he sits with them    &    helps them through their pain.    he does all of this against his playboy persona,    i remember how most of gotham was confused when he was starting his charity projects since he was immediately said to be ignorant or even uncaring towards gotham’s poverty    &    crime issues.    he started the ‘rebuild gotham’ project(s),    he funded arkham.    he’s in active member of the gotham’s    &    new jersey’s political scene,    influencing massive changes.    his infamous ‘no killing’ rule can be attributed to the fact that bruce doesn’t know what led someone to doing the horrible thing that he’s chasing them for;    HE TRIES TO SEE THE GOOD IN EVERYONE.    i know that comes as a surprise,    mostly because bruce openly despised superman    (    despite clark being one of the kindest people anyone has ever met    )    in that batman v superman movie,    but this blog has never taken any inspiration from those films,    so we’re going to ignore that    &    i ask you to do the same when you’re referencing my portrayal.

bruce would never go to such lengths to bring gotham back from its dark days if it wasn’t for how much he cared for its people.    &    he wouldn’t care at all if he seemingly felt no emotions.    yes,    a part of him doesn’t know how he’d deal with his trauma if he hadn’t passionately pursued something like this,    but that doesn’t take away from the fact that bruce is a fundamentally compassionate man.    the way he takes care of the victims in each case,    personally comforting them    (    hugging, etc.   ),    accommodating them in any way he can.    there’s times where he gets so angry after seeing certain victims,    that he finds it hard to control himself even after decades of training his willpower;    THAT’S how vehement his emotions are.

seeing the good in everyone    &    personally feeling everyone’s pain are both very emotionally taxing traits,    &    he doesn’t suppress these qualities.    he allows himself to feel guilt    &    practice empathy because it keeps him going when all he wants to do is collapse.    bruce has never denied feeling emotions,    he never does it to intimidate his allies,    he just has a harsh way of looking at things because,    again,    he removes his own feelings from the mix.    most other superheroes,    like in the justice league,    sometimes marvel at how bruce almost never gives into his anger during important decisions.    i keep repeating my main points    &    this is all quite the speel,    but it’s INCREDIBLY IMPORTANT that you understand that bruce has never not felt his emotions just as strongly as everyone else,    if not stronger.    to end this off,    let’s see what bruce said in response to ra’s al ghul’s earlier question    (   this is something i find that summarizes what i’ve said in this meta really well    ):

❝   plenty of them !    but it won’t do me any good for me to allow my emotions to gain control…    not while there’s a job ahead !    for years,    i’ve trained myself to concentrate on the thing at hand–    later,    i’ll cry…    if i must !   ❞                                                                                                                                 -- batman (1940) #232

&    because i know how hard tumblr’s tiny font is to read,    here’s a link to this same meta, but on google docs !   read whichever version you want !

[minsugasnerd]

Just Friends...? 3

Pairing: You x Taehyung (appearance by I.M)

Word count: 2,964

Genre: Fluff / Angst

Warning: Mentions of drinking 

[1] [2]

The party was in full swing when Tae and I had arrived. Not more than an hour and a red solo cup accompanied by a few shots later, me and my best friend were separated. While Taehyung was dragged off by Bobby, I was left to my own devices, I hated being alone at parties. That in itself was an oxymoron, the house and backyard were crawling with people, practically shoulder to shoulder. Tae was always my safety net, I could always rely on him to be there for me.

“Look poor baby is lost without her Knight in Shining Armor Taehyung,” a slightly drunk Minji slurred.

“Minji!,” her friend scolded.

“What it’s true,’ Minji giggled.

I finally turned to where the voice was coming from.

“Do we have a problem Minji?” I asked her sweetly after taking a sip from my cup. The alcohol stinging my throat but giving me the courage to stand up to one of the town’s most insufferable girls.

“You bet we have a problem,” Minji scoffed.

“And that would be?” I continued in a honeyed voice, being thoroughly grossed out by myself.

“As if you didn’t know,” she handed her drink to her friend and moved to stand right in front of me. Her threatening personality couldn’t make up for her lacking height. “Kim Taehyung.”

“What about Tae?” I questioned.

“I’ve been after him for most of the year and he’s too far up your ass to notice.” She retorted.

“What’s your point Minji?” I asked, already tired of this conversation. It was girls like her that made me stay home from parties like this. I was mentally cursing Tae for leaving me alone.

“My point is,” she straightened up and firmly planted a hand on her hip trying to assert dominance. “I think it’s time for you to let go of Taehyung.”

I tipped the cup up to my lips, downing the rest of it’s contents.

“Minji, I think it’s time that you realize that not everyone wants to take the town’s tart for a ride.” The look on her face was priceless. “And maybe if you actually had half a brain, you’d realize that Tae doens’t go for the easy lays nor does he like girls lacking in decent personalities. So do us all a favor, stop trying.” I replied with a sweet smile. 

Minji was completely red in the face, angered by what I had to say. I braced myself for the slap I knew was coming from her now raised hand but someone stopped her.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a deep but familiar voice said.

“And why the fuck not?” she asked, seething with rage.

“This girl has a mean right hook and I just wouldn’t,” he continued. I knew that voice but I couldn’t believe that he was right in front of me.

“Changkyun?!” I squealed closing the space between the two of us, enveloping him in a hug.

“Hey Y/n,” he chuckled,

“What are you doing here?” I asked, puzzled by his return after so many years away.

“It’s good to see you too,” he laughed.

Out of the corner of my sight, I watched as Minji snatched her cup from her friend and shrunk away in defeat. In some ways I felt sorry for her but then I remembered how awful she was.

“My mom decided that the city life wasn’t for her so...,” he shrugged

“So does that mean you’re back back?” I inquired.

“It looks that way,” he grinned down at me. Once I let go of him he asked me to get a drink with him.

I followed him to the kitchen, taking in his changed appearance. He surely didn’t have defined muscles nor did he fill out a pair of tight jeans as well as he did these days it seemed. Although it had only been a few years, he grew up well and I couldn’t stop staring.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Changkyun teased, startling me and bringing a blush to my cheeks.

“Sorry,” I meekly apologized.

“Don’t be, I couldn’t stop staring at you either when I first spotted you.” He winked before turning to pour both of us a drink as well as a shot.

His fingers grazed mine as he handed me the shot glass and booze filled cup.

“Bottoms up,” he raised his shot to mine. I tipped back the tiny glass and almost spit it back out. Changkyun laughed before quickly handing me a wedge of lime to suck on. “Here,” he said.

The lime did little to mask the sharp and bitter taste of tequila, so I took a gulp of the drink he handed me.

“Ugh, tequila?” I groaned.

“What not your drink?” he asked completely unaffected by the tequila.

“God no,” I said as the sting finally wore off.

“What is your drink then?” he questioned.

“I uh, don’t really have one.” I answered and took another sip of my drink. I could feel the previous drinks and shots finally take effect. It was early into the night, I needed to pace yourself. “I don’t really drink.”

“Then what are you doing now?” he smirked.

“Still a smartass I see,” I laughed and shrugged. “I mean yeah I’ve drank before, it’s just not my thing.” 

“Ahhh still a goody- two shoes I see,” he mocked and winced when I playfully smacked him on the arm. “What was that for?”

“You know damn well what that was for,” I retorted. He laughed and turned to pour another shot.

“Cheers,” I murmured and raised my shot to his, clinking glasses. This time the burn wasn’t that bad but the house started to feel like a sauna. I fanned myself with a few waves of my hand.

“Wanna go outside?” He asked.

“Oh god yes please,” I quickly answered and he grabbed me by the hand to lead me to a cooler environment.

The feeling of his hand in mine brought back so many memories. I couldn’t tell if it was the liquor or if it was the fact that my first boyfriend was back that had me feeling some type of way. Changkyun looked back at me with a smile and my stomach flip-flopped with butterflies.

It was going to be a long night.

Changkyun and I had more than made up for lost time, we both sat outside on a bench and caught up while everyone around us got piss drunk. The both of us had paced ourselves on drinks, I was pleasantly tipsy while we continued talking.

“So tell me,” he began. 

“About?” I asked with a raise of my eyebrows.

“Boyfriends,” he stated.

“What about them?” I responded with an eyeroll.

“Do you have one?” he asked and looked at me like I were crazy when I laughed. “What?”

“Boyfriends? Me?” I emptied my cup and set it down. “Nahhh. You were the only one.”

“I find that hard to believe,” he said.

“Why?” I scoffed.

“What do you mean why?” he lightly laughed at my expression. “Well I mean, even though it’s only been a few years,” he paused trying to find the right words. “I thought you were beautiful back then,”

“And now?” I asked curious of what he was going to say.

“Absolutely breathtaking.” he said looking down at the cup in his hands.

“Yeah right,” I couldn’t help but snort and bumped his shoulder with mine. “Liar.”

“I’m not lying.” He looked up at me and for some reason I couldn’t handle his gaze. “You’re still you but you’ve surpassed beautiful. You seem more confident with the way you walk, talk and dress. Even this new hair style suits you.” He confessed. 

Changkyun and his words left me speechless. My eyes finally met his and in that moment he was leaning closer to me as if he was going to kiss me.

“Changkyun is that you man?!” Jinyoung interrupted with a shout. “Holy shit! That is you! Long time no see! What have you been up to?”

“We’ll pick this up later?” Changkyun asked me. “Save a dance for me yeah?” He asked before getting up to greet his old friend.

Taehyung’s pov

Taehyung knew Y/n wasn’t really fond of being left alone at parties, let’s be real she wasn’t fond of parties at all, which is why he felt so bad when Bobby dragged him off.

“Tae! About time man! Come, I’ve got something to show you,” Bobby more than enthusiastically exclaimed, with a bit of a slur. He definitely had a head start on drinking.

“What is it?” Taehyung asked. “I can’t leave y/n alone for too long.”

“She’ll be fine Tae.” He said while walking towards his room which was in the farthest part of the house. “My friend’s brother works with this software company and he brought me a beta of a new game. It has something to do with zombies, I think.”

Tae’s ears perked up at ‘new game’. He was an absolute nerd with games, if not THE nerdiest gamer in his circle of friends. When he wasn’t hanging out with Y/n, he was usually at home or playing games with Jimin at his place or the local arcade.

“Zombies you say?” He asked, obviously intrigued.

“I knew that would draw you in, I haven’t had the chance to play it yet. I heard the graphics in this game is amazing though” Bobby was without a doubt the most excited one for this game, he kept going on and on about what he’s heard about said game. Bobby sat on the floor in front of his tv and started up his xbox one his parents got him for graduation. Taehyung dragged the bean bag chair he’s had since forever over and plopped down onto it. Even though he was excited about this game, he couldn’t help feel bad that he left Y/n all alone. In the back of his mind he was wondering what she was up to?

“Tae? Did you hear me?” Bobby said bringing his attention to the controller he was waving in front of Tae’s face.

“Oh sorry, I was just thinking about something,” he apologized before grabbing the controller and turning it on.

“It’s all good dude.” He turned back towards the tv and continued setting the game up. 

Taehyung soon forgot about the party and Y/n, not intentionally of course, becoming so immersed in the game. Bobby was right, the graphics were pretty stellar, even for it being a beta game. He was completely unaware of how much time had passed, it wasn’t until a drunken couple crashed through the open doorway as they were sloppily hooking up, that Tae realized what time it was. 1:36 and that he had a few unread texts from Y/n

11:28 [Y/n]: Tae! You missed it! I totally stood up to Minji!

11:28 [Y/n]: It was pretty badass!

12:30 [Y/n]: Where are you?

“Oh shit! Sorry, I thought this room was empty,” the guy slightly slurred.

“Yah! Sehun! Get out!” Bobby yelled, although he didn't need to since they were already on their way out.

“I think I’m gonna get some air out on the balcony, you keep playing,” he told his friend. As Tae slid the door open, stepping out onto the balcony, out of the stuffy room and into the fresh air. His gaze drifted towards all the familiar faces and a few he hadn’t recognized. Before too long, Taehyung’s eyes landed on the only person that mattered, Y/n, and she wasn’t alone. She was standing with some guy, he couldn’t make out who it was since his back was turned towards him.

Something in his chest wavered, it was an odd feeling really. Like a heavy weight nestled right in where his heart was. Taehyung suddenly felt the need to go to you. He wasn’t possessive by any means but lately he felt the need to be the only guy in your presence. His heart fluttered every time you touched him, whether it be your fingers tugging on the sleeve of his shirt to get his attention, or when you laid your head on his shoulder and he got a whiff of your raspberry-vanilla shampoo. His heart began racing every time you intertwined your fingers with his. Was it possible that Taehyung was falling for you, his best friend? 

Taehyung sighed, exhaling a heavy breath he hadn’t noticed he had been holding in. He wouldn’t be lying if he hadn’t thought about you before like that, as someone who was more than a friend. Sure there were times where they were  on the couch when your dad wasn’t home and he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, or times when you left no space between them as they were cuddled up in your bed. Moments like those made butterflies swirl around in his entire body, he wondered if it was like that for you. He shook his head and turned back towards the sliding glass door, bypassing all of his friends who asked where he was going, he needed to get to you.

Taehyung shuffled through the crowd of party-goers that were inside the house, mumbling a ‘sorry’ or ‘excuse me’ every time he bumped into someone. He made a pit-stop in the kitchen to take a shot of liquid courage, aka vodka. Pushing his way out the crowded doorway, he had his eyes on you and the person you were with.

Stopping dead in his tracks as a slightly intoxicated Minji stood in his way. “Hey Tae,” she said in a voice that was sickeningly sweet.

“What’s up Minji?” Tae asked with a rather bored, yet impatient expression.

“You are just the person I was looking for,” she reached up to brush the fringe away from his face, only for him to shake his hair back into place. “Wanna dance?”

“With you?” Tae grinned as she nodded. “No.”

Her face twisted into a shocked expression. “And why the hell not?”

“Because you’re an awful person Minji.” Taehyung said without hesitation.

She shrank back as if she had been hit, eyes glowed with anger as Taehyung left her right in that spot.He walked over towards you just as the guy you were talking with turned to leave. Tae had to do a double-take, was that Changkyun?

Your POV

“Tae! Where have you been?!” I nearly shouted.

“I was - never mind that.” He looked at me with a raised eyebrow, thumb pointing over his shoulder. “Was that...?”

“Changkyun? Yep.” I nodded at Tae and took a sip from my cup.

“Is he back back or...?” The way he asked left me confused. Why did he care?

“It looks that way.” I replied with a shrug.

Taehyung looked less than enthused with my former flame suddenly being back in town. He physically shook his head as if he was trying to get rid of the thoughts running in his head.

“Look I need to talk to you about something.” Tae said with a slightly uneasy tone.

“Yeah, sure what is it?” I asked smiling up at him, but the way his features contorted in what crossed me as confusion, didn’t settle with me so well. “Is everything okay?”

“Uhmm,” he reached up to scratch at the back of his head. “Well lately I - I have, I mean I think,” Tae was never one who usually fumbled over his words.

“What is it Tae?” I frowned at him. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m uh fine. I - I just don’t know how to say this.” He nervously stammered.

“Just say it,” I replied in a much more collected manner.

“It’s just that lately, umm I’ve been feeling,” he paused a moment and stared at me directly in the eyes, which calmed him. I was never fond of the color of my eyes, I once said brown was a boring color to have, that my eyes were ordinary. But Tae never felt that way, he told me he  thought they were beyond magnificent. They were like copper against honey, the feeling of coming inside from the cold and wrapping yourself in a warm blanket on the sofa. They were breathtakingly beautiful, just like my entire being. At the time I thought nothing of it, but now?

“Tae?” My voice rang out and broke his chain of thought.

“Oh fuck it,” Taehyung mumbled before he cupped my cheeks in the palms of his hands, his thumbs caressing the apples of my heated cheeks. I had no time to register what was happening as he closed the distance between the two of us. The moment his lips brushed against mine, I dropped the cup I was holding, the liquid contents splashing the both of our shoes, but I could care less. My hands instantaneously reached out to grasp at the fabric of his shirt, the thrumming sound of my heartbeat drowned out the noise around us. A content, yet shaky sigh escaped his lips once he pulled back from me.

““Y/n - I’m in lo-,” Taehyung began but was interrupted, making him drop his hands away and hastily step away from me.

“Changkyun! Hi!” I said much louder than you meant, obviously caught off guard.

“Long time no see Taehyung,” my former boyfriend patted Tae on his shoulder. “You still owe me dance Y/n.”

I was numb to my surroundings, the kiss with Taehyung left me utterly shocked, it wasn’t like any other kiss I’ve ever had. The reappearance of my first and only boyfriend, the only boy I’ve ever loved and truly felt for, all of this was too much for me. I looked back and forth between the two boys, both wanting my undivided attention, how was I supposed to choose?

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! Don’t forget to check out the first two chapters!!

[coffeedrivenfiction]

Recuperation (a Teen Titans story) Summary: After a gigantic battle, the Teen Titans are completely worn out and the only capable of picking them up again is... coffee!

It was the third time he had slipped into that beckoning darkness, the one that loomed so invitingly just behind his eyelids, and damn did it feel good. With each blink, he could feel his aching limbs growing lighter; with each blink, he felt the strain over his chest, so much like a stubborn brick, ease off just a bit; with each blink, all the purpling bruises that gleamed that badges of honor just underneath his clothes seemed to lose their sting.

Never, in all his life, had Beast Boy wanted to pass out so badly before.

Alas, every time he blinked for a second too long, the blasted order bell rang, along with an accompanying shout from the barista behind the counter, and he was jolted back into consciousness.

"C'mon, man, can I just… five minutes, that's all I need," he grumbled, holding his cheek in his hand, "just… five… measly... minutes…."

When he started to fade for the fourth time, it wasn't the order bell that woke him up, it was when his head bobbed a little too hard, slid out of his palm, and collided with the table. He jumped up like someone had zapped him with a cattle prod, hastily wiping drool from his bottom lip. After a quick glance around, he saw that nothing had changed… the cafe was still packed to the gills with customers who, just like him, were having their nostrils tickled by the scent of energy-fueling coffee. The line at the front counter was crazy long and Beast Boy sighed. Knowing the popularity of this place, he had planned to get here as early as possible, like crack of dawn early, and while it was technically still early morning, his battered body hadn't been up to the task of holding onto a transformation long enough to secure a safe, quick flight. So he took the bus, then fell asleep by accident, missed his stop—twice, stopped to help get this old woman's cat out of a tree—it was like some twisted 'everything can go wrong' montage from a cartoon, and the primary reason why he was still waiting thirty minutes later for his ticket to get called.

"This is nuts," he whined. "How long does it take to make five stupid cups of—"

DING-DING!

"Ticket twelve! Order twelve is up for a Misterrrr… Garfield?"

"Oh, finally!" Beast Boy exclaimed, and he pushed his way to the front, eagerly holding out both hands to the familiar server. "Man, I thought you guys were picking the beans back there yourselves!"

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite green looney toon," the barista said with a smile that was just as sarcastic as it was friendly. "How ya' holding up, eh?"

"Like a rickety bridge.

"You look it, sugar."

"Oh, gee, thanks," he snorted. "And you?"

"Fairly meddling, fairly meddling," she replied blithely, grinning as she handed over one cup at a time. "Saw the news this morning, though. You guys had quite the battle yesterday from the looks of it. Felt the shockwaves all the way across town where I live!"

Unsurprisingly, even mentally dwelling on the what he and the others had barely managed to survive caused Beast Boy's body to give an unholy throb in protest and he grunted, nearly dropping his drinks. "Yeah, the, uh… the villain contingency decided to throw us a little party. You know how it goes…."

"Oh, I'm sure, I'm sure." She drummed a couple fingers over the marble surface before finally asking what he knew she had been inching toward: "Did you win?"

"You're still alive, right?" There was an unmistakable edge to Beast Boy's tone as he grabbed a four-pronged drink holder. When she nodded at him, he hunched a shoulder. "Then, yeah, we won. You're welcome, by the way."

"Much appreciated, green one, I do so enjoy living," she responded evenly, the snark in her tone easily heard even over the store's commotion. "So," she casually glanced side to side, "where's the rest of the squad? Robin and them?"

"Back at the tower, where I wish I was."

"Tired, eh?"

"What, me? Tired? Psssh, nope. Beast Boy never gets tired, not when the city needs him," he boasted, yet even as he said that, the exuberance he tried to puff his chest out with quickly deflated leaving him looking more exhausted than ever. "I'm not tired, I'm just… just—"

"Sporting fifty-pound bags under your eyes because of all the effort you put into leading your team through that battle," the barista supplied, her eyeteeth showing with the smirk she flashed him. "Obviously, right?"

"I'm glad you know," he said with a weary laugh, struggling to fit each cup into place. "Ain't easy being so awesome, lemme tell ya."

"Oh, I'm sure," she agreed genially, and without a word she spun the container in a full circle, effortlessly fitting a cup into every hole. "There you go, Mr. Hero," and she lifted her hand.

A very grateful smile grew over Beast Boy's worn face and he slapped her a congratulatory high-five. "Thanks, Jules."

The barista, whose badge read Julian Spears, snapped into the most casual salute Beast Boy had ever seen. "Hey, just doing my civic duty, hun." Then she made a shooing motion. "And you should be off getting intimate with a bed right about now, might be needing you later for round two with those villains."

Once the sun was up, the concept of rest didn't exist for Beast Boy, or any of the other Titans, really. Hence the coffee. Without any prior sleep, it was going to be a very long, very arduous day ahead, and God help them if the alarm went off for any reason, but she didn't need to know that. A big part of superheroism was putting on a brave front even when the urge to fall over was nigh unbearable.

Picking up the fifth drink, Beast Boy gave her a two-fingered salute then forced an enervated grin.

"You can count on me."

"I knew we couldn't count on him," Robin slurred, lying slumped over the kitchen counter. He had only gotten as far as pulling on his pants and his mask askew with one shoe on and one shoe off. Looking at him you wouldn't be able to tell if he was trying to get dressed or undressed. He pointed a feeble yet very accusatory finger at Cyborg. "I… blame… you."

"What, me?" The look of shock that flashed over Cyborg's face only lasted for a blink until it subsided into the pain that raged all throughout his circuitry and he sank back into the chair he had unknowingly risen from. "It wasn't my idea to send BB—it was Star's."

"That is the lie," Starfire replied groggily, and unlike the others, she was half-hanging off the back of the common room couch. Through sheer force of will, she managed to lift her head and fixed Cyborg with a bleary-eyed scowl between her curtain of red hair. "I did not suggest Beast Boy to go because I was taking a short coma."

Robin snorted against the countertop while Cyborg actively chuckled. "That was the quickest coma I've ever seen anyone fall into and get out of," he remarked with subdued awe. "You Tamaraneans are something else."

"What is this else you speak of? Am I not the flesh and blood?" Starfire wondered with sincere confusion, her head falling limp before she could finish.

"No, no, that's just—" Cyborg caught himself mid-sentence, deciding it wasn't worth the energy to explain the phrase and just nodded. "You sure are."

It was rare that Raven ventured anywhere without her hood and cape combo, mostly because how else was she going to bathe her face in the calming darkness that kept her emotions in check, so to see her now, seated at the kitchen table alongside Cyborg with half her face resting in her palm, sans her concealing garment, was almost picture worthy. Like the others, she hadn't slept a wink since last night and, also like the others, her body pulsed with an agony that made sleep a moot point anyway.

"Robin," she called in that droning monotone, "this coffee of yours… I hope it has the effects you so heartily claimed it does."

Somehow, after placing his palms flush against the counter, Robin found the strength to push himself up, showing them a self-assured grin even while his arms wobbled like jell-o. "Trust me, Raven. You don't even know what it feels like to wake up fully refreshed until you've had this."

"Whenever BB decides to come home, you mean," interjected Cyborg, reclining so heavily in his chair that it audibly began to strain. "Oh, don't you wimp out on me now, chair. Dig deep, push through, c'mon now."

Starfire lifted a thumbs up but otherwise said nothing, leaving her haggard wheezing to fill the silence of actual words. Not that anyone could blame the alien girl; each of them was struggling at the moment, whether with injuries, the fatigue, or just trying to fully wrap their heads around what had transpired. Because it really made no sense. No one could have predicted a full-frontal attack of such magnitude to kick off like it did, without warning or time to prepare—and that had instilled a very disturbing spark of anxiety within the Teen Titans. This time they were lucky, one of Cyborg's alarms had gone off only minutes prior, which gave them just enough time to get their gear together.

After that… it was chaos, a bitter struggle that lasted the better portion of three hours. Robin led to the best of his capabilities, and some onlookers might saw it was due to his leadership that they didn't get completely overwhelmed, but it became a team effort around the two hour mark with everyone splitting off to handle different objectives. The cohesion they exhibited during the entire fight was something that exceeded even their best test runs and practice simulations: orders were relayed with a single glance, team-attacks flowed as easy as breathing, where one fell short another was there to pick up the slack—they were, for lack of a better word, flawless. Erratic, but flawless.

When it was all over, when the last of the foot soldiers had either been beaten back or else was in the process of being thrown into a patrol car, the last thing Robin felt like doing was standing tall for the the influx of paparazzi or entertaining the several questions the police chief had. But he did it anyway, with his team behind him.

Because being a superhero meant working well into overtime.

"You ever think about just… I dunno…." Robin grunted as he shambled his way around the counter toward the table. "What it'd be like to be… normal? For like a day?"

In unison, Raven and Cyborg stared at Robin with varying degrees of disdain; even Starfire tilted her head so as to get a really good look at her teammate, because there was no way their leader had just asked such a stupid question.

"Riiiight," said Robin with a light chuckle, easing himself tenderly into an empty chair, "because what's normal about a trans-dimensional cross-breed, a bright-blue cyborg, a girl from another planet—"

The front door suddenly began to open and everyone seized up—Robin's hand shot to his unbuckled utility belt, a hostile green glow sparked to life around Starfire's eyes, Raven lifted a very flexed hand that swam with a miasmic black aura, and Cyborg's entire left arm made the shift into his sonic cannon—but the tension bled away just as quickly as it came when Beast Boy stumbled through, beaming triumphantly.

"—or a green-skinned shapeshifter," he finished lethargically, lurching his was over to the table and bypassing the fact that the rest of his teammates had been seconds away from flaying the skin off his hide. "I mean, we just have so many choices for normal up in here I'm surprised we picked superhero as a career path."

You can find the rest at: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13206109/1/Recuperation

[missgoalie75]

a gilmore christmas | fic: instead of cursing the darkness, light a candle

title: instead of cursing the darkness, light a candle word count: ~3,000 disclaimer: title is from ‘light a candle’ by neil young. summary: post-revival | in which paris invites jess over for hanukkah for reasons not limited to doyle screwing up his flight and paris cutting out everyone due to election day reactions.    note: this was written for a gilmore christmas, so please make sure to check out all the works! thank you @alspancakeworld for hosting this again. 

Jess only has Paris Geller's cell phone number because he babysat her two kids as a one-time thing: he happened to be in the city on the same night that her babysitter fell through and she had to go to a gala. It wasn't a bad night – he ordered pizza for the kids, they watched some animated movies that he missed when he was their age; he occasionally texted Paris, who checked in every hour. The kids were supposed to go to bed at eight, but he let them stay up and they tired themselves out by nine. Paris came home at one in the morning, tired and a little tipsy and she thanked him with a kiss on the cheek, which he doesn't think she would've ever done if she were sober. The next morning, he made breakfast for the family and then left.

That was about a month ago and he didn't expect to hear from her so soon, let alone a week before Christmas:

From Paris Geller:  I’m assuming you’re not doing anything for the holidays this year because I’m told you rarely see your family during that time, so if that��s the case, you can come to my Hanukkah gathering on the 24th.

From Paris Geller: I’ve had to cut out 80% of my social circle due to the election and Doyle isn’t going to make it until Boxing Day because he’s a self-centered writer and screwed up booking a simple red eye.

From Paris Geller: And my kids actually like you, so please.

Jess stares at the series of texts, completely flabbergasted.

From Jess Mariano: I figured since you were in the medical field you would be in better company.

From Paris Geller: You’d think, but they’re either too wealthy and want to keep their $$$, they’re self-hating Jews, and/or they voted for Jill Stein.

From Jess Mariano: Yikes.

From Paris Geller: It’s been a rough 6 weeks.

He knows. After the gala, after she kissed his cheek in thanks, she proceeded to hiss about an asshole donor who loves his hunting rifles and money too much and how he's confident about the upcoming administration, tears of rage in her eyes. He couldn't judge her for that since Rory was incapacitated for days and can only imagine Paris just functioning for her kids' wellbeing.

(And he himself punched a hole in the wall at Truncheon at two in the morning on election night, drunker than he'd been in years, but nobody knows that.)

From Jess Mariano: Yep.

From Paris Geller: So, can you come? Incentives: you sleep in the guest room, you have access to my PRIVATE gym, state of the art kitchen, books.

From Jess Mariano: You think you have me all figured it out don’t you.

From Paris Geller: Private. Gym.

Jess sighs and rubs his eye before cupping his jaw in thought. It’s true, he hasn’t gone out of his way to come to Stars Hollow for the holidays for a variety of reasons, most of which revolve around bad memories with Liz, and recently he’s enjoyed spending the time either by himself or with a few other misfits watching Reservoir Dogs (his choice) and Die Hard (definitely not his choice).

From Paris Geller: AND I’m buying good rugelach. I’m going to Park Slope for them.

He does have an appreciation for good rugelach. Besides, with Chris attempting to mend his relationship with his brother and going out of town and Matthew going to his grandmother’s house, he thinks he can close up shop for a few days.

From Jess Mariano: Do I need to bring anything?

From Paris Geller: No, just respectable clothes.

From Jess Mariano: Do you still picture me like I’m seventeen wearing camo and baggy pants?

From Paris Geller: Obviously. I bet it shocks you every time to see my short hair.

From Jess Mariano: Fair point. I’ll come after lunch.

From Paris Geller: No, you come FOR lunch. You’re a guest. I will feed you.

From Jess Mariano: I have a hard time imagining your cooking…

From Paris Geller: I’m going to take you out to lunch in a damn restaurant. Unless you have made up important work to get done on Christmas Eve.

From Jess Mariano: Okay…I’ll come for lunch.

From Paris Geller: Great. See you then.

Jess reads over the exchange and shakes his head.

**

"So, what are you doing for Christmas this year? Staying at Truncheon?" Luke asks a few days before Christmas Eve.

"No, I'll be in New York," Jess answers as he's doing sit ups on his bedroom floor.

"Who's there?"

Jess sighs, does two more sit ups, and picks up the phone by his hip on the ground. "Are the Gilmores around?"

"What, why?"

"Because I don't want to deal with a reaction right now."

"Okay, weirdo, no, I'm in the storage room. Why is this a secret?"

Jess runs his teeth over his bottom lip. "Paris."

"What?"

"Paris Geller. I'm doing Hanukkah with her and her kids."

"…But why?"

"Because she asked and I figured why the hell not." He puts the phone back down and does another set of sit ups.

He does a few before Luke asks, "Is this about Rory?"

Jess clenches his jaw as he propels himself forward. "Not everything is about her."

"You know you're always welcome –"

"Thanks, Luke, but I'm good."

"Okay, if you say so…but Paris? Really?"

"You know, she's not terrible."

"She's terrifying."

She's a force of nature, but Jess just thinks at the end of the day, Paris Geller is someone who takes what she wants by sheer will and has always had a hard time finding – and keeping – people in her life who respect it. There's nothing terrifying about it. (Although the glint in her eyes when she talks about certain things like politics and women in television is a little bit concerning.)

"You know Rory and Lorelai are going to find out about it."

Obviously, but Jess doesn't want to have a conversation about it with Rory, who will probably be territorial about it. "Whatever, at least it's not right now."

"What are you doing?"

Jess finishes his last sit up. "Sit ups. Now pushups."

"You still have to tell me how the hell –"

"Bye, Luke, speak to you later." Jess hangs up on him, flips over, and begins his first rep of pushups.

**

(Look, Rory being pregnant is…whatever. None of his business.)

**

Even though Paris told Jess not to bring anything, he buys bagels because that's typically his go-to 'thank you for hosting me' gift since everyone loves a New York bagel. And he buys jelly doughnuts since he wasn't sure if she just bought rugelach and also, he was hungry on his way in and wanted a quick snack. And going by the way her collarbones are sticking out and her face appearing a little gaunter than the last time he saw her, he's glad he brought both.

Gabriela and Timothy hug him and make him promise to draw and play games and do other kid things that will end up exhausting him. But he likes them – they're surprisingly warm children, especially considering who gave birth to them.

"Alright, let's get moving, we have a reservation!" Paris says over their excited squeals. "Coats on! Hats too!"

"Where are we going, exactly?" Jess asks.

Paris rolls her eyes. "Don't worry, I picked American food."

"I wouldn't have minded diversity," he says with an amused smile. "I grew up with six different types of cuisine in the same block."

"There's Chinese tomorrow night."

"Wow, really? Something tells me you didn't adhere to that Jewish tradition growing up," he laughs.

Paris smiles. "Definitely not, but my mom ate a handful of almonds and coffee on a daily basis, so that was out of the question."

"You're going to have to buy a vat of lo mein," he warns her as he gets down on a knee to help Gabriela zip her coat.

"Don't worry, you won't starve," Paris scoffs, ushering her kids out the front door. "And, obviously," she adds, as if he were crazy to suggest not ordering enough lo mein to feed a family for a week.

"Just making sure," Jess sighs, shutting the door behind him.

**

Jess didn't know much about Hanukkah prior to living with Matthew. Before, his knowledge stemmed from "The Hanukkah Song" and living in some predominantly Jewish neighborhoods. Now, he has a better understanding – he even knows the blessings recited when lighting the menorah, but he butchers the pronunciation, according to Matthew, so he was never expected to do the honors.

"Who remembers the blessings of the first night?" Paris asks.

Jess raises his hand.

"Who out of the practicing Jews in the room remembers the blessing of the first night?" Paris clarifies dryly as her children giggle.

"Can't I be an honorary Jew?" he asks. "I bet if we put it to a vote, I'd win." He grins at her children, who beam back at him.

"Be quiet, James Taggart. Gabriela? Your Hebrew School teacher said you were doing well," Paris says, running her thumb over the apple of her daughter's cheek.

"Who's James?" Timothy asks.

"A character from a bad writer," Jess answers.

"You can't judge a writer by one book," Paris argues.

"Ayn Rand writes the same s…garbage every time. One is enough. Let Gabriela recite the blessings."

Paris scowls and shakes her head.

Jess technically only knows the first two blessings which are said every night of Hanukkah, so when Gabriela stumbles over a word, he whispers the correct one in her ear. He lights the middle candle with a Bic lighter from his pocket when Paris gives him a nod. Gabriela and Timothy both keep a hand on Jess' when he lights the rightmost candle after the third blessing is recited.

"You did beautifully," Paris says.

"Couldn't have done it better myself," Jess adds, putting the candle back in the menorah.

"Tomorrow, you can light the second candle," Paris tells Timothy, who nods.

"I'm going to be perfect," Timothy announces, very much an echo of his mother.

Jess will be very interested in how Timothy will grow up.

Jess got Timothy a stack of coloring books and a nice set of colored pencils since he seemed to have the bigger passion for art the last time he saw him. He gave Gabriela a large set of multicolored beads and different kinds of strings to make her own jewelry.

"What the fuck, Mariano, what is this gift giving genius?" Paris says quietly through her teeth.

"Nice alliteration. I thought about getting them the likes of The Phantom Tollbooth and Jacob Have I Loved but I figured you should do the honors in a couple of years."

She looks away innocently, eyes falling toward the closet where he's sure she's keeping her children's gifts. He feels such a strange sort of fondness for her.

After the kids are tucked in, Paris opens a fresh bottle of wine and Jess places a gift for her on the kitchen counter.

She stares at it blankly for a second. "Really?"

"You really have a horrible preconception of me," he jokes. "It's not much."

She finishes pouring the glasses and puts the wine back in the cooler before opening the box, which has an Amazon gift card and a nice, expensive pen.

She smiles – a soft, genuine one that probably hasn't been seen by many.

"Okay, I got you something too," she says, going over to the closet outside of the kitchen.

He opens the neatly wrapped gift and laughs, finding an Amazon gift card on top of a pile of different sized Moleskin journals, all black.

"I'm a cliché, aren't I?"

"Yeah, but it's fine. We all have our faults."

He snorts and sticks the card into the topmost journal. "Got any more latkes?"

So they're sitting on the couch with a plate of reheated latkes, a bowl of leftover blue and white jellybeans, and full glasses wine.

"This upcoming year is going to suck," Paris whines.

He nods in agreement.

"I swear to God, if I knew this was going to happen, I wouldn't have had kids. I'm devastated that my children will be exposed to this bullshit and will probably have to fix it their entire lives."

Jess frowns. "Not that I'm Mr. Optimistic, but I'm hoping we won't totally fuck ourselves over irreparably."

"Yeah, yeah."

"I have a hard time imagining this future fucked up administration will turn your kids into assholes. I'm sure you're instilling good feminist values."

"Honestly, Timothy I think will bully his peers into believing the right things. He reminds me of me so much, it's scary."

"He glowers like you, it's unnerving," he agrees.

"Gabriela has her moments when it's like I'm looking in a mirror, but she's definitely got Doyle's demeanor."

"How's that going?"

Paris sighs. "I can't imagine getting back with him. He's not the same. And neither am I in some respects, but –"

"You feel like you've pretty much stayed the same," he assumes.

She stares at him. "Is that bad?"

He shrugs. "I don't think so."

They drink and eat in silence for a few moments.

"I can't believe she's pregnant," Paris says flatly before bringing the glass to her mouth. She takes a long drink. "I know she was going through…I don't know. A rough patch. But…pregnant?"

He vividly recalls sitting across from a desk, sipping half-terrible whiskey as Rory talks about having no underwear. He doesn't bring that up, but he hums in agreement and drinks.

"Is it weird to be disappointed in a friend? Because I feel that way."

He shrugs. "Don't know. Probably not."

She stares at him over her glass. "You were a dark horse."

"What?"

"I mean, I never would've guessed this scenario happening in a million years."

"Is it the hair?" he jokes.

"The success, the lack of attitude, the rippling pectorals."

He just stops himself from laughing out loud. "Please don't ever say that again."

"Oh, come on, you're jacked, it's ridiculous, who are you." She finishes her wine. "What are you even doing with your abs, because I can't for the fucking life of me get rid of this pouch of fat right below my belly button."

"Are we going to work out together tomorrow morning?" he half-jests, but judging by the way her eyes flash with determination, he knows she takes the suggestion seriously.

"I'm up at seven and I think the kids will be in a food coma."

He shakes his head and finishes his wine.

**

As much as Jess enjoys doing plenty of things on his own, it's actually not bad exercising with Paris. They keep headphones in for most of the time and they somehow motivate each other, mostly by Paris staring holes into his face while either of them are completing sets.

While they're finishing up, both of her kids come in and exclaim "Happy Chrismukkah!" which Jess didn't realize was still a thing people outside of his friend group – still stuck in the mid-2000s – said to one another.

"Can you make pancakes again, Jess? Please?" Timothy asks.

"Yeah, please!" Gabriela echoes.

"Depends if your mother –" Jess starts.

"Oh, don't worry, I have everything you'll need, I was prepared for this request" Paris interrupts him.

Jess laughs. "Of course."

**

He makes chocolate chip pancakes for the kids and omelets for himself and Paris, even though they end up eating a pancake or two.

Paris gives her kids a few gifts to open in the spirit of Christmas, taking pictures and sending them to Doyle. They change into new winter-themed pajamas and watch holiday-themed movies.

At one point, Paris orders a disgusting amount of Chinese food to have delivered, but Jess offers to pick up.

On his walk, he calls Luke.

"He lives."

Jess rolls his eyes. "Merry Christmas to you, Uncle Luke."

"Merry Christmas. How's it going over there?"

"Very nice."

"Seriously?"

"If I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be here. Have you seen Liz yet?"

"We're having dinner later. She didn't call you yet?"

"I'm sure it's coming."

"It's Jess, want to say hello?" Luke asks distractedly.

Jess bites back a sigh.

"Hi, Jess, Merry Christmas!" Lorelai says. "Remember, if you need help, just text the SOS emoji and we'll send a brigade."

"Pretty sure the brigade has the day off along with the post office – I think I'll survive in the meantime."

"Wish Paris and her kids a Happy Hanukkah."

"I will."

There a few seconds of silence until: "Merry Christmas, Jess."

He wets his bottom lip. "Merry Christmas, Rory."

"I have another chapter done – at this rate, maybe by spring, the first draft will be done."

"Your rate is definitely better than mine at the moment. I hope when you're done you'll consider submitting a draft to a smaller publishing company."

"Truncheon is number one on the list."

He smiles. He reaches the restaurant and comes to a stop. "I gotta go, but I'm sure I'll see you around."

"Bye, Jess."

He hangs up and for a moment, he considers the fact that next year, she'll have a few-months-old baby, and desperately wishes for a strong drink.

**

(There's a point when Liz calls and while the conversation is brief – he speaks at length with Doula of all the gifts she received and thanking him for his gifts that he sent in the mail – Paris at one point slides him a beer and they cheer to being better than their shitty mothers. When the kids go to sleep, they watch Reservoir Dogs and Miracle on 34th Street and eat more Chinese food. Jess considers making more of an effort to hang out with Paris and her kids with the new year.)

**

Doyle arrives early in the morning and there's a weird moment when he sizes Jess up, which Jess doesn't want to think about or consider.

But Jess leaves soon after, letting the Geller-McMaster family have their time alone. Paris sends Jess home with leftover latkes and Chinese food and a box of rugelach. He's not one for hugs still, but he's okay with hugging Gabriela and Timothy and Paris.

On his drive home, he sneaks a rugelach or two, considers where he's going to hang up the drawings Timothy gave him, his new beaded bracelets made by Gabriela rolling up and down his wrist.

(He's also very excited to hole himself in his room and read, but that's just because some things just won't change.)

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers #159: Siege by Stealth and Storm!

May, 1977

So I guess Thor and Black Panther are going to join the party. Thanks for spoiling that, the cover.

And who the hell is that woman by Graviton. Its not Judy. And its not Raquel.

COVER ARTIIIIIIIIIIST!!!

Anyway.

LAST TIME: Vision and Wonder Man had a punch-up but then plot happened and plot happened to be Graviton. A scientist from most sinister Canada, he got gravity powers in a dumb lab accident, used them to throw stuff at people’s heads until he leveled up enough to uproot a research village and stomp the Avengers.

And now they all float up here.

But Graviton’s delighted gloating to Judy is spoiled because Judy isn’t listening. She’s unconscious after Raquel brained her with a vase. So Graviton smacks her for touching his fave.

How dare she, etc. She’s just a gold digger who wasn’t interested in him when he was Frank Hall but now that he is powerful, suddenly she’s sniffing around.

Geez and wow. Someone keep Graviton away from reddit.

Okay but Raquel reveals she wasn’t just bursting in randomly the previous issue to warn Graviton about the Avengers. She was actually bursting in because the Avengers had freed the other scientists before they attack him. And now they have guns and they’re right over there and they are really bad shots.

Because no time to gun range when there’s SCIENCE to be done!

And it doesn’t matter. For two separate reasons. Reason one: He can just make a gravity shield that makes the bullets bounce harmlessly off.

Because, sure, gravity can probably do that.

Reason two: if they had shot him, the stupid floating island would have plummeted BECAUSE HE IS THE ONE LEVITATING IT DUMBASSES.

Damn. He kept the giant land chunk floating and solo’d the Avengers. This guy is tough.

Instantly I want to see him fight Magneto. Because Magneto would kick his ass even though logically Graviton’s powers are more versatile. Although experience matters.

Instantly I want to also see him fight Gravity Suit Samus. Kick his ass, Samus.

Anyway.

The scientists realize that they’re not quite ready to die for their convictions but hey time to die anyway! Graviton just gravity scoops them all up and prepares to huck them over the side.

Fortunately, Judy regains consciousness in time to beg for their lives, promising to do anything Graviton says if he spares them and especially Joe.

Joseph complains but Graviton tosses him Raquel as an explicit consolation prize and then lets the scientists all waft down as gentle as the gentlest dandelion puff.

While also motoring the flying island off to the east.

And hours later, the flying island arrives at New York. Which I guess? you can reach by going east from Canada?

Anyway, a giant land mass appearing above New York never leads to anything good so obviously they scramble the jets. But there’s a crazy gravity shield surrounding the island and protecting it from any and all harm, which I guess gravity can do.

We even get a brief bit of people reacting. That’s how you know something is legit.

The various citizenry is convinced its either aliens or the communists or maybe communist aliens. Daredevil going ‘welp nothing I can do about that. Might as well go beat up looters.’ And while Dr. Strange and the Defenders COULD help, they’re out of town. As are the Fantastic Four.

Must be a busy day, superhero wise.

I thought I’d go and check what the Defenders were actually up to this month but they had a crossover with Wonder Man so its probably not chronologically parallel.

Anyway, we see Jarvis sitting sadly alone in the Avengers Mansion, watching the news and fretting. He salutes the shelf full of random Avenger golden statues that the Avengers just so happen to keep on a shelf in the mansion (they even have one of Wonder Man already!) but then a voice interrupts him.

And its Black Panther. Hi, Black Panther!

Just chilling in a chair, having snuck up on Jarvis without announcing himself or anything. So he’s the stealth. The storm will probably be along shortly.

After an off-panel exposition dump about Graviton, Black Panther decides he can reach the sky-island easily on one of the Avenger one-man sky-sleds. Jarvis completely forgot about them!

Probably because I don’t think they’ve ever been mentioned up until now. And we’re not even going to see them this time.

Anyway, there’s the question of what Black Panther’s stealth alone can do.

ENTER THOR. Just walking through a door. Sorry if you thought there’d be more.

Meanwhile, back on the sky-island, we see that Graviton has been busy in addition to relocating his sky-island into New York’s airspace.

He somewhere found a cape and jewelry to dress up Judy as his queen. Because Frank Hall has issues.

And he also gravitationally pinned the Avengers to a big slab as a monument to that time he totally beat the Avengers.

Why is he so much better at collecting the Avengers than the Collector??

Additionally, he also contacted the UN and told them that if they don’t surrender the world to him, he’ll destroy the great cities of the world one-by-one starting with New York, where the UN is.

So I guess they get one strike.

Anyway, Graviton sees Judy’s complete despair with this entire situation and mistakes it for worry… that the UN won’t capitulate to him fast enough! Don’t be worried about that, silly Judy!

And then Thor arrives and disappointingly does not request to have words with Graviton.

I know… I know it wouldn’t be as special if it were more common. But I have to have hope in my heart.

Anyway. The action figures that are Thor and Graviton smash together but in vain. Graviton’s force field is even strong enough to repel the thunder god.

In fact, y’know what? MAYBE GRAVITON IS A GOD. Of gravity, ‘natch.

So Thor gets peeved and does the thing where he summons the biggest lightning bolt.

Annnnnnd its still to no effect.

This is probably the result of changing writers twice since then but I don’t know what the intended read on this is supposed to be re: Thor having to leave the Avengers because he was slumming with them.

Because: spoilers:: Thor is about to get stomped too.

I know Moondragon couldn’t see the future but its interesting that shortly after Thor leaves the team for being too powerful for them, the Avengers run into someone who might rival Thor for power.

And it will keep happening!

I wonder if Shooter rejected that character beat or whether this is just a side-effect to his particular writerly tendencies.

Anyway, Graviton throws a building at Thor. Thor KA-BLAM!s it but not in a cool, fun way involving an anthology of animations. And then he KRRRAK!!s Graviton with lightning but I guess? Graviton just reflects it back?? Because gravity works that way???

Meanwhile, the cool exec with the heart of steel, Iron Man. He’s figured out A Thing.

Namely, the gravitational field pinning the Avengers to the slap only goes so far. And if he can use his jet boots and repulsors to push off the slab juuuuuuuuust enough, he’ll be free from the slab.

And in fact, he does do these very things.

Okay but now what? Go help his bestie Thor or take the time to free the others?

Definitely go help Thor, yells Black Panther from the bushes where he has perhaps been this entire time.

Anyway, he has a field disruptor that he borrowed from Tony Stark’s lab in Avengers Mansion and it can probably disrupt gravitational fields. I mean, that makes sense.

So Iron Man is free to fly off and confront Graviton. Again.

Except this time, Iron Man uses ‘strategy.’ If Thor’s hammer can’t penetrate Graviton’s force field, then a direct approach is probably pointless.

But what if he slams into the ground NEAR Graviton to throw him off his game and then try to punch him?

Okay! That… nearly worked!

Punching at peak punch, he managed to dent the force field. Which I guess isn’t invisible.

However it wasn’t enough and Graviton recovered and with a gesture brought Iron Man down.

But that bought the time Black Panther needed to free the rest of the Avengers and now they all rush at Graviton, saying the usual things.

Scarlet Witch: “We’re free! And while an Avengers lives to fight, you haven’t yet ‘triumphed’!”

Captain America: “This time we’re ready for your tricks!”

These usual things would usually signal the tide turning for the Avengers. A second wind that let them defeat a previously dominating foe.

But this isn’t a usual time for the usual things to work in. This is Shooter.

And this is Graviton.

Since the Avengers were obliging enough to be running together in one easily thwarted clump, he just traps them all in a gravity force field.

Womp womp.

Can nothing defeat this gravity man?

How about Judy?

Because while he was distracted beating up the Avengers, AGAIN, she ran off. Leaving a trail of jewelry as she went. Jewelry which Graviton apparently made himself which explains where a bunch of gaudy treasure came from on a research truck stop.

And the jewelry trail leads to a cliff and… stops.

The clear insinuation that Judy killed herself to escape his clutches.

Clear unless you’re Graviton, who decides to blame the Avengers. Because he cannot fathom that she was absolutely disgusted by his attentions.

And in his rage he decides to unleash all his power at once and blast them to atoms, which gravity can probably do?

But then something goes wrong. Its too much power or Graviton is too emotional or something somewhere had a bad thing happen for reasons. Because Graviton’s power turns back on himself, turning him into an incredibly potent gravity well. As if a living black hole, says Captain America, who can clearly see that light can still escape.

The gravity dome holding the Avengers fades as the sky-island starts to break up. So they escape, of course. Luckily, there are enough fliers that all the non-flying Avengers have a flying buddy.

And good thing too.

Because the sky-island breaks into pieces and folds up around Graviton, condensing into a small but super dense sphere. And the last of Graviton’s power wears off and the sphere goes plummeting to the ground from, I don’t know, maybe a mile up?

Even though its small, it still has the same mass it did as a flying chunk of real estate. It hitting the ground after falling so far is going to be like hitting New York with an earthquake.

Forget about an earthquake though, its going to hit like a meteor!

Unless the Avengers can do something about it!

Which they do!

Yay!

Specifically, the strongest Avengers all stand where the giant sphere is going to land (a winning strategy so far…) and catch it.

And this dissipates the impact, I guess? I feel like I know less about physics than when I started off this comic.

Then they huck it into the sea because that’s easier than setting it down, more dramatic, and besides it may contain a Graviton. Clearly, dump it.

The Avengers return to the mansion, musing on how it was beauty what killed the beast. Okay not really. Thor is talking about how bitter a victory, bought at the cost of a tragic death rather than punching someone into submission.

Except hey! Guess who is best butler? Its Jarvis!

He off-paneled! He off-paneled good! He was flying one of the sky-sleds hoping to be of some aid and he spotted a plummeting Judy and saved her!

A happy ending for everyone except Graviton and fuck that guy!

Speaking of guys I hate, next time its Grim Reaper. Sigh and groan but I guess it was inevitable. You can’t bring back Wonder Man and expect Grim Reaper to not have something to say about it.

Grim Reaper’s entire deal is doing stupid things because his brother is deeeeeaaaaad so I wonder what stupid thing he’s going to do because his brother is aliiiiiiive.

[sxypigeon]

Fires Everywhere (Chapter 17)

A/N: More Kuvira back-story, korrasami cuteness, and Mako and Bolin being cops.  Yeah, there's a lot of plot in this one.  

This is a canon korrasami story starting just after the fall of Kuvira.

Chapter   1,   16,   NSFW 17

"That's the dumbest idea I've ever heard!"

Baatar Jr. pinched the bridge of his nose and growled at Varrik, "And your idea of an extinguisher bomb isn't?!"

It had been nearly twelve hours since they'd left Zaofu and they were already running into problems.  Kuvira watched the exchange with a passive expression, but she was beginning to tire of the men's bickering.  "Varrik, is your idea feasible to construct in the three days we'll be here?"

The inventor rubbed the stubble on his chin as he watched Zhu Li roughly calculate the number and cost of each explosive.  "Assuming we can get enough of the chemicals, we can probably make four or five dozen."

"Not nearly enough to put out the fires in Ba Sing Se," Baatar said with narrowed eyes.

"Fine!  We use your idea, too - whatever that was."

"A water bucket on every airship will-"

"Yeah, yeah.  If you'll excuse me, I have a production line to start.  Zhu Li, take all this down-"

Baatar growled again as Varrik exited the airship giving his assistant orders.  "He's an idiot!  The chemicals he wants to use aren't even safe!  They'll put out the fire, but anyone who doesn't die of asphyxiation will end up with lungs full of corrosive chemicals!"

"So we'll have to used them on areas that have already been evacuated," Kuvira said as she stared at the map in front of them.  "The burrows nearest the outer wall should be empty.  Once we stop the fire's spread, we can focus on containment and use his bombs."

"But . . . they're still bombs.  We're going to fight fire with an explosion," he said sarcastically.

"All ideas are worth exploring at this point.  He'll have to give us a demonstration before I allow any onto our ships, but if it helps fight the fires faster, I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt."  She raised an eyebrow at his enduring scowl.  "Either way, your idea is the one we are going forward with regardless."

He sighed and nodded.  "With Lake Laogai within the outer wall, it shouldn't take long to refill the buckets after they dispense their load."

Kuvira allowed a small smile to tug at her lips.  "Keep in mind that Varrik is used to getting what he wants, whatever the cost.  He will try to belittle your ideas if it will get his invested in."

"But he doesn't need to!  We're all in this together!  How hard is it to work as a team?"

"Hopefully he'll see that in time, but for now keep fighting for your ideas.  His maybe more unique, but yours are more practical and that's what I need in the long run.  Putting out the fires is just the first step."

"Stabilizing the city is the end goal," he agreed tiredly.  "I'm going to check on assembly.  Work from Tu Zin has a history of being . . . suboptimal."

Left alone in the navigation room, Kuvira stared out the windows at the darkening manufacturing town they were commissioning to build Baatar's giant water buckets and now Varrik's extinguisher bombs.  Their initial reluctance to take the work, no doubt due to Su's threats of moving her manufacturing needs elsewhere, was quickly forgotten once they saw the profits to be made.  Which reminds me, I need to speak to the investors tonight.  Varrik's idea would be an added expense and every last yun needed to be accounted for or their endeavor would quickly find itself without backers.  Makes me almost miss being just Captain of the Guards.

"Is that it?"

Kuvira continued staring at the glow in the distance, "Ba Sing Se is definitely burning," she said quietly to Baatar.  The sun had set nearly two hours ago when the first hints of the orange glow could be seen in the distance.

"How far out are we?"

"About three hours, sir," the ship's captain said from Kuvira's other side.  

"Do you think this will really work?" Baatar asked quietly.

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't," she answered calmly.

"Remember your training and, above all, do not allow the flames to surround you," Kuvira said to the men on her ship and over the radio to the other airships.  "Our priority is to contain the fire, once that is accomplished, aid civilians in need.  If the fire spreads, more people will die.  Good luck and stay safe."

"You two," she said to Baatar and Varrik as she switched off the microphone, "need to work together.  I'm going to be on the ground and can't referee your arguments.  People's lives are at stake, not just the citizens', our troops' and mine, too.  Can I count on you two?"

Varrik and Baatar stared at eachother for a moment, before the inventor threw an arm around the younger man, "Junior and I will have everything under control from up here.  Go save the city!"

"Be careful," Baatar pleaded.

A small smile crept to her lips.  "I always am."

Blocks away and the heat is almost unbearable, Kuvira thought as she and her men were lowered into the city.  Smoke and ash clogged the air, limiting their sight as the raging inferno echoed deafeningly through the streets.  She led them toward the hellish conditions doubting for the first time if the fire actually could be stopped.

As they came to a wide enough street, she gave hand signals for the men to spread out.  Once in position, they began pulling rock and earth from the ground, forming a wall to separate the flames from the rest of the rest of the city.  

"Alright, kid, let's put my babies into action," Varrik said as the first load of water was dumped.

Baatar frowned, but relented.  "Take us to the edge of the fire near the outer wall," he said to the captain.

"Open the hatch!" Varrik ordered.  

Baatar watched anxiously as the inventor and his assistant approached the opening in the floor.  "Make sure you don't hit the bucket!"

"Hm . . . in that case, Zhu Li, you do the thing.  That woman has the arms of a platypus-bear."  He waved Baatar over to watch as the petite woman heaved the bomb from the airship.  It fell towards the smoldering ruins before suddenly erupting in a wide cloud of white, powdery gas.  "Ha, ha!  Yes!  Perfect, and look!  The fire is going out around it!"

"I never doubted it would work," the younger man said with a huff.  "I doubted whether it was worth the risk to the people on the ground to use it."

"We'll keep it away from the people, I promise."

"Take us to the lake."

"We'll have to figure out a way to use them strategically since we have so few of them," Varrik mumbled to himself as he stared at the flames below.  "Speaking of strategy, what sort are you using with our fearless leader?"

Baatar cocked an eyebrow.  "What are you talking about?"

"Oh come on, it's just us guys up here - and Zhu Li, but she doesn't count.  The only reason I can think of for why you haven't made a move is because you must have something elaborate planned like directing the ships to put out the fires to spell I heart U."

"What?!  No!  She doesn't like me like that," Baatar stammered in alarm.

Even Zhu Li rolled her eyes and sighed.  "Look, kid," Varrik whispered conspiratorially.  "I know she's an intimidating girl and shows about as much emotion as a badger-mole, but she's been sending you signals at least since we started planning this heist."

“Really?" he asked in a stunned voice.

"She's crazy about you!  If I was you, I'd be taking full advantage of that!"

"Oh…" he stammered as a dazed look overtook his face for a considerable amount of time.

Sweat-drenched and exhausted, Kuvira signaled for her group to stop after hours of work.  They all turned their faces skyward as she lit a flare and pointed it above them.  

"There!  That should be Kuvira's group.  They're the only ones that haven't checked in yet," Baatar barked.

"About time, too.  I was starting to worry," Varrik muttered in an uncharacteristically serious voice.

Baatar shot him a surprised look.

"What?  She's our meal ticket!  If we lose her, this whole thing will be for nothing!"

She felt it before she heard it, a searing heat and the shockwave.  Kuvira saw the look of alarm on her men's faces and she felt the blast on the back of her neck.  Without thinking, she threw up a wall of earth in front of her to protect them.

"Woah!  That's a heck of an explosion!" Varrik yelled as they neared Kuvira's group.

"You don't think anyone was hurt, do you? Baatar asked.

"Nah, I'm sure Kuvira has it covered."

"-vira!  Kuvira!!!"

Sluggishly, she pushed herself off the ground where she'd been hurled into the wall she'd created.  Rough hands pulled her to her feet and supported her as she was half dragged to the safety of the other side of the wall.  "What?"

"Stay with us, ma'am!"

Everything seemed to be filtering through mud as she tried to make sense of what was happening.  Ba Sing Se . . . the fire . . . an explosion . . .

"Hold on to me, Kuvira!"

Clumsy hands gripped the soldier supporting her as he pulled her toward a cable dropped from an airship.  The thick smoke nearly sent her into the comforting embrace of unconsciousness as they ascended.

"Hey!  Hey, Kuvira!!!  Hold on, damn it!"

The soldier shock her violently as her grip began to loosen.  I'm several meters above the ground.  A fall from this height would kill me.  Finally through the fog engulfing her mind, she tightened her grip on the soldier and clenched the cable pulling them up.  

"There they are!" Varrik shouted as the hatch closed below them.  "Someone get these guys some water!"

"Kuvira!  We need a doctor!" Baatar called as he ran forward.

"I'm fine," she muttered as she shakily stood on her own feet.  The soldier supporting her moved to step away as Baatar moved closer, but she gripped his sleeve and pulled him into her arms.  "Thank you, Tao."

"Anytime, ma'am."

"You're not fine.  Your face is covered in blood!  What happened?" he asked as she released the soldier.

"An explosion behind me.  I didn't have time to protect myself, but I was able to put up a wall between myself and the rest of the men," she said patiently as Baatar took her face in his hands and examined her.  "I might have a bit of a concussion, but I'm fine."

"Woah!  That's a lot of blood!" Varrik shouted from behind her.  

"What are you- Ahh!"

"Don't poke at shrapnel in her back, you idiot!" the ship's doctor cried as he pushed the inventor away.  "This way!  Bring her over here!"

Kuvira unclenched her jaw as she was pulled toward a chair.  She hadn't noticed anything wrong with her back until Varrik poked her.  "How bad is it?"

"Well, you have about five centimeters of wood protruding from your back under your left arm," he said patiently.  "We need to get this armor off.  Guys, a little help?  Be gentle."

Tao carefully pulled the metal away from the wound.  

"Good.  Baatar, keep her still while I cut away her uniform."

"Um, okay."  He knelt in front of her and let her brace her hands on his shoulders.

"That is in there pretty deep," the doctor muttered to himself.  He began to gather his tools.  "This is going to hurt.  Would you like an anesthetic?"

"No, I need to stay alert," Kuvira said after a breath.

"Varrik and I can do this," Baatar said confidently.  "You don't have to be in pain."

"These men are following me.  It's my voice they need to hear over the radio giving orders," she muttered to him.  With her hands on his shoulders, it was easy to see his eyes avoiding hers.  "I can take it."

"If you say so," the doctor said as he gripped a pair of pliers.  "Take a deep breath and try to relax."

Kuvira closed her eyes and exhaled. "Oka- Grrahh! Damn it!"

The doctor quickly inspected the wound.  "There's still a bit left in there.  Deep breath and relax."

Her breaths were anything but deep as she tried not to break Baatar's collar bones with her grip.  "I need a moment."

"The shrapnel needs to come out."

"I know, but I need a moment," she said through clenched teeth.

"Rethinking the anesthetic?" Varrik asked with a grin.

"No, damn it.  Just give me-"  She was cut off by Baatar gripping the back of her neck and crashing his lips into hers.  What? . . . Oh . . . Okay.  Her lips moved without conscious thought and quickly the clumsy kiss turned into something that made her momentarily forget her pain.  

The ship was silent as they parted.  "I'm sorry.  I should have-" Baatar tried to say before Kuvira griped his shoulders tightly again and hissed in pain.

"Thank you, Baatar," the doctor said as he held up a long, bloody sliver of wood. 

"Damn it," she groaned as she let her head fall onto his shoulder.  "Don't apologize.  I needed that," she whispered.

"Oh, good."

"Okay, another deep breath."

"Just- DAMN IT, MAN!" she yelled in agony.

"It's just a bit of antiseptic.  You're fine, remember?" the doctor said impatiently as he dabbed at her wound generously with alcohol.  "Alright, I'll stitch it up and you'll be good to go."

"Your bedside manner needs work, doc," she groaned.

"Next time avoid the explosion," he countered as he threaded the needle.

"Hey, rookie!  Quit daydreaming and start your shift!"

Kuvira snapped out of her memories and back to where she sat in the mess hall.  The other guard was right, she needed to check in for her night shift.  It had taken half a day to come up with a cover story to get the local recruiter to take her, which required a fair bit of makeup to make her less recognizable - she even had a small pebble in her right shoe to change her confident gate.  The end result was an assignment at the work camp she was trying to liberate.

It had taken just an hour on her first day to find a prisoner willing to accept her help and tonight would they set their plan in motion.  

I'm not going to get any sleep at this rate, Asami thought with a smile as she stared at the ceiling of her apartment bedroom.  She buried her nose in the hair of the woman sleeping peacefully on her chest and inhaled, feeling another wave of contentment wash over her.

It seemed like a lifetime ago that she and Korra had finally made it to her apartment, but in reality couldn't have been more than four or five hours.  She could hardly remember showering or eating; what she did remember in exquisite detail was leading Korra by the hand to her room, the feeling of Korra's hands on her skin and the heat of her mouth as the avatar explored her body.  She remembered the moans and sighs she pulled from the younger woman and the satisfaction of having her writhing under her.  There was one memory in particular that was leaving her restless, warming her face and making clench her legs together impatiently.  

"You're supposed to be sleeping," Korra said drowsily.  The arm around Asami's torso and leg across her thighs wrapped tighter around her in a sleepy hug.

"I was just thinking."

"When aren't you?"  Korra propped herself up on an elbow and grinned.  "Anything I'd be interested in?"

Asami cupped the side of her face for a moment before letting her hand tangle in her hair.  "Just how much I enjoyed our vacation . . . and tonight specifically."

"It was pretty great, wasn't it?" she sighed happily before dipping her head into a slow kiss.  "I feel like you're not telling me something, though."

"Um, I - I might need your help with something," she mumbled with her bottom lip nervously between her teeth.

"O-okay," Korra laughed quietly.  

"I was thinking about . . . about what you did to me earlier-"

"Which time?" she asked with a full grin.

"You're enjoying this too much," Asami groaned as she threw her free arm over her eyes.  "The first time."

Korra frowned as she pretended to think intently.  "You might have to jog my memory."

"You know, I could just take care of this on my own."

"Oh, the waterbending thing," the avatar said, suddenly remembering.  "What about it?"

"You're going to make me say it?"

Blue eyes seemed to blaze in the dim lighting of the room before she whispered against her lips, "Yeah, I am."

Asami pulled her into another, longer kiss.  "Do it again."

"Yes, ma'am," she whispered as she began kissing down her body.

"This is a bad idea."

"That's why I told you to stay with your family," Mako whispered to Jeong as they and Bolin crept toward the tent they had seen Ping leaving earlier.  

"I'm in charge of this neighborhood-" she tried to say quietly.

"You're a civilian!" he hissed.  "If something-"

"Guys," Bolin muttered, "we've got movement."

All three fell silent as they watched a teenager leave the tent.  "Now?" Jeong asked.

Mako looked to his brother, "Can you tell if anyone is inside?"

"I'll try.  I'm still pretty new at this."  Bolin stomped the ground and fell into a low, wide stance.  There were a lot of people around them, but it didn't seem like anyone was in the tent.  "We're good, I think."

Mako led the way to the back side of the tent, having the other two keep watch as he pulled up a corner stake and lifted the canvas enough to slip under it.  

The inside of the tent was dark enough he was tempted to use his firebending, but he ignored the urge.  He stayed crouched as he passed a row of beds and felt his heart stop.  Half of them were filled with sleeping boys and teenagers.  Bolin, you definitely need a few more lessons.  He was about to shimmy back out of the tent when he spotted a stack of papers and a map on a table near the entrance.  

Screw it.  I'm already here.  He moved with a slow and practiced grace he hadn't had to use in ages as he crept across the room filled with what looked like new gang members.  Staying as low as he could, he began going through the pages, making mental notes of names and locations.  He was putting everything back the way it was when he heard the rustle of blankets.

Crouched under the table, Mako watched as someone turned over in their bed waiting anxiously for the moment they opened their eyes and spotted him.  The muscles in his legs and back clenched as he prepared to defend himself. . .

PPHHHrrrrt.

Mako pinched the bridge of his nose.  The urge to issue a bellowing fart that ended with a quiet, high pitched hiss, that was what prompted the kid to roll over, not hearing Mako.  

Bolin turned when he heard his brother slide from under the tent.  Mako hurriedly shook his head as he pushed the stake back in the ground and led the others away to a safe distance.

"So, what did you find out?!" Bolin asked in excitement.

"That there were at least half a dozen kids sleeping in that tent," he said irately.

"What?  No," he muttered before stomping the ground.  "Hmm, that's what that is."

"Aside from that?" Jeong asked impatiently.

"Give me a minute," Mako said as he pulled out his notebook and began jotting down everything he could remember.  Locations in the city, names of new recruits, and a few coordinates neatly filled the page as he tried to make sense of it.

"Those could be new territory landmarks," Bolin muttered from over his right shoulder.

"I recognize a lot of those names," Jeong said from his left elbow.  "They've gotten to more kids than I thought."

"I want to know what these are," Mako said thoughtfully at the list of numbers.

"These and these," she said pointing to the first and fourth entry, "could be tent locations in the camps.  They would be-"  She paused and looked around to get her bearings, "over that way," she said pointing down a wide thoroughfare.  

"Let's check it out," Bolin proclaimed in his Nuktuk voice.

The all too familiar smell of smoke filled the work camp as Kuvira hurried from her assigned post away from the source of the fire.  She pushed her way past the other guards going the opposite way, ignoring their shouts wondering where she was going.  

I need to get back to the guard barracks.  She rounded a prisoner shack and spied her target.  The canister of gasoline was exactly where she left it that morning.  Sliding to a stop, she quickly pulled out a rag and a lighter.  

Shouts filled the air as more guards converged on the first fire.  Rag lit, Kuvira took off running again.  One more fire to start, she thought as she neared the mess hall.  

BaWOOM!!  

The second fire was underway.  Alert everyone and separate them, cut off communication, and sabotage their efforts at suppressing the fires - it wasn't as subtle and clever as Azula's coup of Ba Sing Se, but she didn't have time to forge alliances.  

"Hey, where are you going soldier?!"

Kuvira altered her path and run towards the man.  "There's a fire!"

"No shit!  Turn around and-"

She dropped into a slide and took his legs out from under him.  She climbed onto his back and wrapped her arm around his neck tightly.  For five violent seconds he thrashed below her until he became still.  

I have to get going.  She took off in a sprint across the camp yard.  Angry yells were crossing the camp.  They've figured out the hoses won't work.  Hopefully they haven't fixed the radio tower yet. . . 

"You there!  What's happening?  We can't reach anyone outside the camp!" another soldier said as they exited the mess hall.

"There's a fire in one of the prisoner's barracks," she said pointing behind her.

"Wait, is that another-"  

The narrow edge of Kuvira's flattened hand collided with the man's throat.  His eyes bulged as his hands gripped his neck before she drove her knee into his groin and then his face.  As he crumpled, another two Empire soldiers exited the building.

"What happened?"

"He fainted," Kuvira said breathlessly.

"What-" he said moving to kneel down next to the fallen man only to meet her knee.  The other stood shocked for a moment before sending strips of metal at her.  She dodged them and sent a low kick to the side of his knee.  "Ahrr!"  Twisting her body around, she swung the heel of her boot into the side of his face.

Now I'm really behind schedule.  Hopefully the prisoners can hold their own for a little while.  She moved to the back side of the hall and found the last gas canister and set up her bomb.  Just like the one that almost killed me that first night in Ba Sing Se.

Guards were converging on the second fire as she set off towards the prisoner barracks.  No one stopped her as she ran, but she did notice more soldiers abandoning the prisoners for the other fire, especially as the last canister exploded behind her.  

The fighting had yet to break out, but there was plenty of chaos as prisoners yelled and screamed at the jailers to put out the fire that had spread to two more bunkhouses.  As Kuvira neared, her contact spotted her and quickly put the second part of their plan in motion by jumping the nearest guard.  Several more prisoners followed his lead.

"Shit, shit, shit!  The prisoners are revolting!" a soldier yelled just before he was tackled to the ground.

Kuvira threw herself into the mix and together they quickly subdued the opposition.  "Everyone alright?" she asked as the guards' platinum handcuffs were used on the soldiers.

"Nothing that won't heal," a woman said beside her.  "What's next?"

"I need a group of you come with me," she said quickly.  "We don't have a lot of time before they repair the radio tower and call for help.  Speaking of which-"  She paused as the shouts of soldiers neared them.  "You, pretend to fight me.  The rest of you, hide."

"We have your back, rookie!" the soldier said as he and female guard ran toward them.  Neither could get a clear shot at the prison because Kuvira stayed between them.  "Move, rookie!"

She turned and shifted the ground under their feet causing them to fall.

"What the hell?!" he yelled.  Wasting no time, Kuvira landed a kick to the man's jaw.  

The woman rolled out of her range and sprang to her feet snarling.  Metal strips flew past off her uniform for the Kuvira's head.

Quick hands deflected the blows before moving the ground below the woman's feet again.  The soldier stumbled and gasped in dismay as Kuvira ripped the remaining metal from her uniform.  Her attempt to pull a chunk of rock from the ground was too slow as one of Kuvira's collided with the side of her head.

The rest of the prisoners came out of hiding and crowded around the fallen soldiers.  "We're in for a long night.," Kuvira stated.  “Those that are willing to fight come with me.  Everyone else will need to make sure the guards we incapacitate are striped of their metal and securely bound."

A brief calm fell as the fires burned, lighting up the night.  

"Let's move out."

"We should be getting close," Jeong muttered quietly.

"Eight fifty-two, eight fifty-three . . . It should be the third one down on the right," Bolin hissed.

"We're just going to walk by it.  Bolin, try to get a read on it and don't forget to check the furniture for people," Mako whispered.

They walked by as nonchalantly as a pair of cops and a known neighborhood watch-woman could, knowing the Triple Threats likely had eyes on them.  

"Anything?" Mako asked.

"There's definitely people in that one.  Maybe five or six."

"Can't you just go in there and say you had a tip something illegal was going on in there?" Jeong asked impatiently.

"No, because they're going to see through that and know I can't legally do anything with the evidence I might find in there."  Mako looked around.  "What we need is a distraction."

Silence fell on the group as they continued further down the path.  "What if we flush them out with an argument?" Bolin offered.

"And then what?" Jeong asked.

"We'll need you at the back of their tent watching where people leave to.  They'll probably scatter so you'll have to watch for anyone important-"

"How will I know if someone is important?" she asked in a whispered panic.

"They'll look important . . . or they'll be telling the others what to do."

"O-okay," she muttered nervously.

"And stay out of sight or better yet," he said looking at the hooded coat she wore, "if you could pretend to be a vagrant or a beggar-"

"What?!" she hissed.

"No notices beggars until they start talking," Mako explained.  "How many people sitting along our path have you noticed?"  At her frown he continued.  "We've passed at least five so far."

"Just sit on the ground a few tents from the target with your hood up," Bolin said with a grin.  "Mako and I used to do this as kids!"

"So I just sit and-"

"With the hood up!  Or a big hat if you have one," the younger man muttered.

"Right and watch for an important person to leave the tent.  Do I follow them?"

"If you feel like you can do so safely," the detective stressed.  "Even if we can get a general direction that's better than nothing.  We need to know what other tents they're using."

"Ready?" Bolin asked.

"Sure," Jeong said with a strained smile.

"You don't have to do this-"

"No, I'm good.  Let's figure out what these bastards are up to."  Her smile felt a little more genuine.

The men turned back the way they came with Bolin leading the way looking agitated.  Jeong cut between the tents and followed a parallel path back towards their target.  On the other side of the tents, she could hear their staged conversation.

"Bolin, what are you doing?!" Mako shouted.

"This is stupid!  I'm going to talk to them!"

Jeong quickly pulled up her hood and looked for a good spot to sit.

"Bo, you're a cop!  You can't just barge into people's tents!"

"Yeah, watch me!" Bolin shouted.

"Hey, boys!  What's going on?" a new voice asked.  

"Mushi!  What's going on in there?!" Boling demanded.

"Nothing illegal if that's what you're worried about, Bolin.  We're just trying to get by like the rest of the people here.  Not everyone can be friends with the avatar and get a cozy place on Air Temple Island."

"Bolin, calm down.  We can't just invade someone's home!" Mako tried to explain.

"Well maybe I don't want to be a cop.  Maybe I'm just a normal citizen who's worried about the gang problem around here!"  There was a rustling of clothing.

"Kid, listen to your brother.  Taking off your shirt doesn't make you any less of a pig."

"And hiring kids to do your dirty work doesn't make you any less of a jerk!"

"You didn't seem to mind working for us a few years ago."

Jeong picked a spot two tents down.  Wait, what did he mean by that?  Were they-

"These kids aren't homeless, Mushi.  They have families that are worried about them!"

"Some of them are."

"Bolin, grab your shirt.  We need to get going," Mako said.

"No, I'm not leaving until I know what you're hiding in there!"

That seemed to do it.  Quietly, people began to trickle into the walkway she was watching.  Just like Mako predicted they were quickly scattering.

"Bolin, what do think you'll find?  Bombs?  Drugs?  Money?  We evacuated just like everyone else - they barely let us bring a bag of clothes with us."

"It doesn't matter what I think you're hiding - I know you're hiding something!"

A man carrying a heavy bag passed by Jeong.  That's important, right?

"Bolin, come on.  I'm sorry, Mushi.  We've had a long day," Mako explained.

"No, no.  I get it.  You kids know what it was like.  Things have changed," the gangster said calmly.  "We prefer white collar crime these days - the stuff you were good at, Mako.  If Bolin needs to see what's in the tent so bad then I guess I could let him take a peek."  

Jeong set off after the bag carrier.  Okay, don't get too close.  Don't let him know I'm following.  I have no idea what I'm doing!  She cut between tents to keep an eye on him.  He's taking a left.  For about five minutes she tailed him until he finally ducked into a tent.  Yes, I did it!  Um, where am I?  She looked for signs and got a general idea.  Now what do I do?  She was about to head back to her family's tent when the man exited without the bag.  Where is he-  Oh, lavatory, Jeong concluded based on the direction he was heading.  I should just go home . . . but, I want to know what was in that bag!

Ignoring the rational voice in her head telling her she'd get herself killed, Jeong darted into the tent.  It was small and empty except for a cot and a small table.  Where did he - there it is!  She knelt down and pulled the bag from under the cot.  What were you hiding? . . . Spirits, what are these?  

Long metal and wood . . . things filled the bag, at least eight of them.  I don't know how I'd even describe them.  Would he notice if I took one?  She lifted one out of the bag.  Wow, this is heavy!  I have to keep it hidden.  Carefully she closed the bag and pushed it back under the cot.  The trip back home was nerve-racking, but thankfully uneventful.  

"There you are!" Bolin shouted from outside the tent.  "We were getting worried."

"In here," she hissed as she led them in.  Her family was asleep so they kept their voices low.  "I found this."

Mako took the object from her and inspected it.  "Where did you find this?"

"One of them had a bag full of them when he left the tent.  He dropped it off at his and left to use the bathroom so I took a look," she said feeling very pleased with herself.

"Are you out of your mind?!" he hissed.  "You could have been caught!"

"I know, but I couldn't just not see what he was hiding!"

"Yes, you could have!"

"Guys, what's done is done," Bolin whispered.  "What is that thing anyway?"

"A weapon," the detective said ominously.  "One we need to show to Varrik and Asami, if she's back yet."

"So we're heading back to the island?" Bolin asked excitedly.

"Yes, and you're coming with us," Mako said to Jeong.  

"Me?  Why?"

"The chief is going to want to talk to you and to be honest, it's probably for the best if you disappear for a bit after being seen with us, for a while at least.  So pack a bag - we need to go now."

Well this will be a fun conversation, she thought as she moved to wake her parents.

A/N: More plot for your enjoyment!  If you were looking for Korrasami smut then you won't find it here, BUT you can find it in Slurping Noodles and Bending Water - it's the NSFW version of this chapter.

It feels good to be writing again.  I think I tried writing this at least three different times before I had something I felt was up to snuff.  

Thanks for reading, liking, and/or reviewing!

Chapter 18 Politicians are jerks

[randomnessunicorn-imagine]

Okay, because I'm weird and it's almost five am, I had a thought. That is my only excuse for this chaos. What would (SF&UF Bros) do if one day, their SO was cursed so from dawn to dusk, they'd be stuck as the bros least favorite animal, and turn human at night(it can be one they fear or just hate). (Aka reverse werewolf in a way.) How does SO get cursed, and how do the bros react? Are they even with their SO when they can for the first time, and if not, do they even realize it's them at first?

{ Oh, well… I took a lot of time for it because I was not sure about the animals the skels could hate… Uhm— I invented a lot for it, so I hope you enjoy it. Then, this thing is so long, since I made you wait for all this time. }

INTRO:

You lived with your family in a village of farmers, your life was simple and humble so you did not ask for too much, you were happy with your parents and brothers. The village where you lived was located next to the Mt. Ebott, for this reason it was easy finding some monsters walking through the streets of your village, but you did not have anything against them, you thought they were great and someone of those creatures became your friends, so you had so many reasons to be happy. Moreover, you were dating one of them, a skeleton monster. You met him by mistake, but maybe it was destiny. Nobody knew the truth. You loved him so much and he did too, it was the most important thing. Until, a maleficent curse fell on you and you could not do anything to break it.One day, your father got very sick and it seemed there was no cure for his ills, and he was the one who worked and supported the family since you were the biggest sibling and your brothers were still kids, they could not work. However, you did not want to lose your dad and your mother was full of desperation, just like your little siblings.Maybe you were not thinking rationally in that moment and you have taken the worst decision ever. You asked for the help of a witch. It was an ugly woman who lived in this town from eons, someone said she has always existed and no one knew her real ages. You thought she could help your father using some magical spell. Oh, too bad, she turned out to be a dishonest person because her soul was as black as the raven’s wings. You were too disparate so you chose to contact her anyway. Strangely, she already was aware of your problem and she was waiting for you. She had the solution of your dilemma, and she could help your dad. Sadly, you knew very well that all magic have a price and she was not going to tell you what it was. You would have found it out by yourself. You ignored her words because they were too scary but you wanted your father to heal so you were ready to accept any consequences. From that day, you have been designated to live like a beast because the price you paid was your humanity. You were an abominable creature. Something too scary to be approached. Something too gross to be accepted in this society. You could not be considered like a monster because you appeared too different from them. First, you were not magical so you could only protect yourself using your physical strength. Second, you were unable to speak since you communicated in your own language nobody could understand. After your transformation, your father healed but now you were disappeared and everyone was searching for you. You even tried to explain to them who you were but nobody recognized you, neither your family. You understood, it was the prize you had paid for helping your father. You were damned for the rest of the eternity.

🌙 Reddy 🌙

The villagers were acting strangely lately and he could not understand why but he did not care so much about them since he preferred to stay alone or with you. Sans has not seen you yet and he was worried. Then, he saw all those people running free, screaming your name. He thought the worst and that worst was the truth because you were lost. His worries were reality so he did not know what to do, so he started searching for you. He had so many possibilities to find you, since he could smell your scent from miles, it did not matter what your form was. He was able to recognize you anyway. Then, he found you in the middle of the forest, you were crying and you appeared so sad. Sans could not believe you were that beast. Your features were weird, you looked like a cat but you were too big for being a normal cat. Sans perceived a sense of repulsion towards cats but it was you. He forgot instantly his fear and he tried to approach you, despite his confusion and worries. You were so happy to see Sans, you were sure he would have been able to help you. You were shocked he could even understand your language so you explained to him the deal you made with that witch. Sans was so mad and his sight blacked out because it was awful. It was the highest price you could pay. He was going to kill that bitch witch and he was magical too so she could have listened to him (by hook or by crook). At the end, Sans has showed to her what true hell was because he was an expert of it, so the evil woman gave to him the antidote. Then, he killed her anyway because she was too dangerous and wicked for his tastes. He could not risk losing you again because of some stupid magicians.

🌙 The Edge Lord 🌙

Papyrus knew something bad happened to you because you were too sweet and candid to get in troubles and he was a hunter by profession so he had to find you. He promised to himself that he was great enough to bring you home to your family. Anyway, he could not imagine you were cursed and you were not a human anymore. He looked for you everywhere but there were no signs of you. You were disappeared into the oblivion. He did not give up so he kept searching for you all the night, too.During one of his missions, he found you nearby the river, you were a beast but he was not scared since he was a monster and he has seen so many particular creatures in his life. He thought you were a monster like him so he asked to you if you have seen the missed person here because he was too worried and everybody in the city was becoming crazy. You recognized Papyrus but he could not recognize you. He assumed you were not his same kind but you seemed desperate, he could read it in your eyes, and you did not seem dangerous. You were trying to communicate to him it was you. You were a beast now. Then, he comprehended the truth because that creature had your same expression and eyes. He was socked, because he could not believe you were such a thing. After this revelation, he asked to Sans to translate your phrases since his brother was the weird who could understand animals’ language, nobody could know why and how (Sans seemed the creepiest version of Snow White who was able to speak with birds and mice).Papyrus was astonished because that witch had tricked you and she was not going to live any longer without suffering a world of pain. Then, he took the antidote from the witch but he did not kill her. He wanted the witch to become his slave.

🌙 Blackberry 🌙

Sans was not as sensitive as his brother so he was unable to recognize your new form but he tried so hard. He spent days and nights searching for you when you disappeared without leaving any traces. Obvious, Papyrus helped him since he was a great hunter and they together were able to find you. At first, he thought you were a monster even if he has never seen you and he knew everyone in the Underground so it was strange seeing a new face. Then, you did not speak his own language so he thought you were an enemy and he decided to attack you. It was just his instinct and he could not accept that a beast had eaten you, but that beast was you. Luckily, Papyrus stopped him promptly because you were so scared and you were not an enemy, the tallest skeleton could understand it. Then, he was the one who realized it was you. You have been cursed. After Papyrus explained it to his brother, Sans’ rage reached the hell because it was unacceptable. Who did it to you? Why? You guided them to the witch’s house.Sans wanted his revenge, but she had to heal you before he could destroy her. You could stay with his brother until he took care of this evil woman. Sans tortured her without mercy, then he murdered her. She had stopped to play with other people’s lives.

🌙 Rus 🌙

These last days, he saw you so worried for your father and you were behaving so weirdly but Papyrus could not understand your real intentions since he did not ask you for any explication. It was normal to be apprehensive for your father’s health. One day, he followed you because he had that instinct to protect you and he could not leave you alone during this difficult period. He saw you entering in that witch’s house. From that day, you started acting stranger than before. Until you disappeared. He felt so guilty because it was the only moment he took a break but he was so tired. Then, he searched for you before the villagers could attest your disappearance.The moment he saw you in that beastly condition, Papyrus felt so sad and concerned and he understood it was a curse since he was still a magical creature and he recognized an evil spell when he saw one. He had no problem to identify you because your soul was the same. It was still bright and precious, so now he wanted to help you to resolve this atrocious thing. You were glad he was so smart to have understood all the story because you were unable to communicate with him. Then, Papyrus had a chat with the witch and, without using any violence, she gave the antidote to him. Then, the evil woman disappeared. No one could say if she was dead or if she left the village. It was a mystery. But now you were a human again and it was the most important thing.

[thepolyamorouspolymath]

Happy story!

So I found out El, who was a roommate from my treatment center and my surrogate daughter there, is living in San Diego now. I like to take small trips if my tax refund is big enough, and that seems the ideal place. The city is supposed to be amazing. I love the ocean whereever -- even at my worst, if I could be near the waves, I felt normal and balanced. And I can see El, who I adore and haven't been able to see forever! The last alone would make it worth the trip. Now this means I'll be spending the next couple months getting into the best condition I can because I'll be in a bikini lol. I will admit, that part is a bit influenced by M, because I like to imagine that when he sees pics pop up on B's facebook -- he's blocked on mine -- he feels a little pang. (Which is not totally crazy because he's said so a few times.) Especially because he was embarrassed by me when we were together, so I like demonstrating by public vote that not only would people NOT think poorly of him for being with me but that I'd have made him look GOOD that he could get me -- because nothing matters to him more than what other people think of him. Small and petty... but true. BUT it's not overly influenced by him. Mostly it's just pure, old-fashioned vanity lol. A) I like to feel like I look hot. B) I like pics that make me look hot for times I wish to share pics. C) I feel the same way about everyone as I do about M. See, I have relatives and old classmates on facebook. My relatives made sure to let me know how worthless I was at every turn, and particularly when it came to my looks and body. And facebook -- a medium in which I can control my image to the letter -- is the only way for them to know amything about me because I neither see nor speak to them any other ways. (In fact, my aunts and uncles aren't on there at all -- it's just my cousins, but they are a damn gossipy bunch, so I have no doubt my name comes up at family gatherings.) I make sure to look good and bring up great stuff so they think that I'm doing awesome in spite of them... whether I am of not lol. As for old classmates, I got picked on A LOT in high school, a lot of it aimed at my looks and weight again, I suspect because if you want to wound a teenage girl, that's an easy way to do so. (And what else were they going to say? That I'm a loud, opinionated bitch? Ok, valid, and I'm cool with it. That I'm mean and cold? Not going to wound me. That I'm stupid? Ha ha ha ha ha... please. I was the smartest person in the building including the teachers and everyone had known it since we were like 7.) Well, I have a far cooler life than most of them, who stayed in the hick town I grew up in and did virtually nothing different from what their parents did -- I win on that score by mere dint of not being a raging alcoholic. And as for me being ugly... my dating life suggests otherwise. And fat? Again, my dating life suggests otherwise but more significantly, what you can call fat at 15 when your body is at your best and what you can call fat when you're 33 and have had a few kids and your metabolism has slowed down and you aren't as active is a very different thing -- they changed and I haven't gained an ounce or changed proportion at all. (I'm unjustifiable pleased by this. I did nothing to earn it, merely genetics, but I like to neener neener at them for it.) About all that's changed on me at all is a few barely noticable stretch marks -- the advantage of being the color of paper is scars just blend right in -- and my bone structure on my face is a bit more defined. As obsessed I am with my wrinkles, people who aren't me can't even see them because they don't get an inch from my face. So yeah... gonna have to be a bit obsessive about the skin and hair, the exercise and the eating. Which is not a bad thing because I'm obsessing about doing it right, by exercising thr right amount rather than overworking which just sabotages one's efforts snd by eating a healthy diet to make the skin and hair look good and support muscle growth. Which brings me to the point. I'm obsessing about my body in a healthy way! (Yes, obsessing CAN be healthy, because if I don't obsessively watch it, I go back to some crap behaviors out of habit because I'm not watching it enough.) Y'all, this has never happened before October and overall, it's been consistent since. Sure, I have moments I'm insecure and feel shitty about my body. But overall, I'm looking at fixable problems and grasping that the way to address them is through healthy means -- I want to grow muscle in a few places and I finally internalized that your body will only grow as much as you give it the building blocks for (like you have to have the amino acids to build muscle cells or you CAN'T make new ones) so a full and healthy diet is necessary AND that you have to give your body time to build those new muscle fibers between workouts or the muscle is just constantly damaged rather than growing. So woot! Look at me, all reasonable and shit lol!