#he out here adding up every interaction with him and plotting it on a scatter plot and drawing a little wavy line through the random dots 💀

[toiletplomeek]

love being a gay science nerd and writing spock. i understand him like no one does

[zahri-melitor]

Okay. I’ve started Rebirth and read the opening stories of the following titles:-

Batman

Detective Comics

Nightwing

Batgirl

Batgirl and the Birds of Prey

I’m paused JUST before Night of the Monster Men and so I haven’t added All-Star Batman yet.

My first observation? Oh what a relief. It’s not perfect. There is work to do and it’s not a straight roll back to preboot but after reading my way through n52, characters and dynamics I recognise are back. It’s like DC suddenly remembered that people enjoy characters interacting with each other. And so, as best as I can tell, the concept was to sort of scatter everyone back to team positions that would make sense if the last comic you picked up was in 2011.

There is definitely some inferred off-screen characterisation going on: both Dick/Babs and Tim/Steph are extant relationships again. Dick and Babs had been longing ‘will they’ exes for the last 5 years of writing where they kept being out of sync with each other (the last time the two were actively dating on page was in 2003; the failed engagement was 2006, and they’d been caring exes shading back to flirting from about 2010 onwards). Tim/Steph broke up in 2004 and at BEST were amicable for 2009-2011.

Batman: Rebirth #1 – this is just a really lovely little stand alone issue that’s setting up Bruce taking Duke on as an active student. It’s just tightly written, with an interesting plot, nods at traditional characterisation, a less-used but known villain – it works really well as basically a training case for Duke. Note for everyone – Duke is still just a kid learning to be a vigilante at this point in the classic Robin model.

Batman #1-6 (2016): The team here is Bruce, Duke, Henry Clover and Claire Clover. This really feels like a back-to-basics storyline. The parallels between Henry and Bruce are not subtle, and they’re not meant to be; Bruce rescuing a family in his own situation and how it plays out is a well trodden story in DC, as is characters getting powers that the use of which ends up harming them. It was almost a modernisation of a Silver Age or Bronze Age story device that we’ve all seen plenty of times – which I guess makes sense for a Tom King story. I do have a soft spot for Claire here. This absolutely feels like a one-storyline-and-done set of characters (Gotham and Gotham Girl) who get hauled out occasionally in the future but mostly left alone. Waller seems somewhat more herself but unfortunately has still not recovered for her dieting. Every time they haul Psycho-Pirate out I wait for him to make some commentary on multiversal stuff, given he’s technically still on the shortlist of people who remember pre-Crisis, I believe?

Honestly, this storyline was mostly a relief after some of Snyder’s drama (said with full tongue in cheek over the fact it also included Bruce steering a crashing plane from the outside with cable and two rocket thrusters)

Nightwing: Rebirth #1 and Nightwing #1-4 (2016): This is very much a transitional storyline. It’s Dick’s story, but Damian, Bruce and Barbara are popping in and out of it. In terms of moving on fast from Grayson, the fact that Tim Seeley is writing this means that we don’t get a clean break (this is still basically a spy mystery story), but Dick putting back on the Nightwing suit with blue was such a moment of relief, I can’t tell you how big. He hadn’t worn that since 2009. It also unfortunately involves Court of Owls drama carried over from Batman & Robin Eternal and the 2011 Batman and Nightwing runs, but hey, Dick’s back talking to people, he sounds more like himself, he’s wearing BLUE, and he’s hanging out with Damian in a ‘I love him but he drives me up the wall’ way which is honestly not bad as characterisation. Also this line from Nightwing #2 (2016) stuck with me: “But Batman also taught me every life is worth saving. Even if it always seemed like I believed it more than he did.” While I have my quibbles over the second line (ACTUALLY Seeley that philosophy is pretty fundamental to Bruce), for Dick? At this exact moment in time? After recent events? It feels like a renewal. Every life is worth saving.

Damian here is an irritating little snot, but in the largely affectionate way he tends to get in better writing with Dick, and he’s still acting like a kid, which is always nice to see.

Detective Comics #934-#940: I’m not crying, my eyes are just watering, okay? Oh my GOD. This is Kate Kane, Tim, Cass, Steph and for some reason Basil Karlo on a team together. Okay. I see why Tynion’s run is considered a highlight. It’s not perfect, it’s in no way at all perfect, but Tynion took on an unenviable task (merging Tim, Cass and Steph into usable versions of their preboot characterisation/personalities grafted on to the existing situation of all three characters at the end of n52) and he did it in a way that spent a lot of time signalling that yes, he’s actually read their solo runs. They all had moments where they sounded like themselves and acted like themselves.

Tim still had his stupid arm computer and is at peak arrogance and at one point said “This is what happens when you give a sixteen-year-old genius who doesn’t sleep an unlimited budget” (sigh. SIGH. C’mon, Tynion) but my initial fears from the way the first issue was framed that Tim was going to be treated as less capable than Kate Kane (someone who, even in n52, Tim had spent more time as a vigilante than) were relieved by Tim slotting capably into the ‘support strategy’ role he is so good at. Of course as well then he is sort-of not-really playing around with the idea of moving on (he’s got his invite for university but you can read him as either ‘wanting to move on but trapped by Bruce inviting him back to being closer’ or as ‘Tim didn’t expect to get this, is stymied by it, and feels he’s being pushed about taking the opportunity if he lets people know’). It’s a concept he flirts with on occasion but can’t go through with. And then my sweet boy sacrifices himself and shows up Ulysses fucking Hadrian bastard Armstrong and… we get the acknowledgement that TIM IS THE GLUE. He’s just pulled this team into working together in a functional manner and we get “You were reconnecting threads that could not be reconnected. You’re so loved, so deeply intertwined. It became crucial that we take you off the field.” Which? He hasn’t been for 5 years of stories. That’s my boy, my fix-it Robin.

Steph…is sort of controlling and clearly lacking in training and has some edges to her and bickers with Tim? Which oh my god, I can see actual continuity with pre-War Games Steph here. It’s not perfect, she’s suddenly in an established relationship with Tim and quite focused on that, but I can see some Dixon in her! It’s a miracle!

Cass has had the hardest reboot of the lot and has lost 99% of her vocabulary and is back to her cryptid ways, but even there I can see Batgirl 2000 characterisation moments peeking through. She drops in the window while Tim is stripping down (Fresh Blood! FRESH BLOOD MY BELOVED. The parallels here!), she supports Tim during a fight but pushes Steph out of the way and takes over…that’s Cass’s assessment of their fighting abilities. That’s Steph overreaching her capacity and Cass dropping in to haul her out of trouble.

Kate Kane is very much Kate Kane and while I disbelieve that she and Bruce are really that close in age, this is the start of Rebirth and doing things like gently stretching back out the timeline so that we’re in Year 18 or so again, not Year 6. (Year 18 is rough back-of-the-envelope Year 3 = Graysons fall, Year 13 = ALPOD, Year 15 = NML, Year 17 = OYL to Reborn, then n52 is a single year). I like seeing her actually spend some time actively working with other Bat characters if she’s going to be fully integrated, rather than just turning up for events.

Batgirl #1-5 2016: oh Babs. While this run is winking at past Barbara characterisation (the use of Amy Beddoes as an alias! However there is no awareness that that is a name known by the Suicide Squad and Waller and not only heavily linked to Oracle, but to Barbara’s feelings about guns and Joker), it remains squarely in the ‘fluffy light storytelling that might be suitable for a 22-23 year old character but doesn’t match anything about Barbara Gordon’. I really wish this was good.

It is, I guess, an adequate tonal sequel to Burnside, and if that’s your Barbara you will probably enjoy it, but I can’t help but mentally want to slot every single one of these stories into a past history that occurred during Babs’ ORIGINAL stint at Batgirl.

The concept of Barbara going on a world training tour break isn’t bad and echoes Cass being sent off to Hong Kong (though Hong Kong is skipped over for Tokyo, Singapore, Seoul and Shanghai), but the heavy reliance on Barbara’s eidetic memory as her strong point and THEN Barbara ‘switching it off’ to be faster???

Batgirl and the Birds of Prey Rebirth & #1-6: It's Barbara, Dinah and Helena all on a team together? Miracles really do come true!

First point out of the gate: yes, I hate that this contains several take-thats at fans of Barbara as Oracle. I think they're mean spirited and exhausting to read. There is absolutely nothing wrong with fans of a team created by Oracle wanting to see it lead by ORACLE. THAT SAID, characterisationwise this is the closest I've had to my girls for a while.

Barbara is far more like Simone's n52 Batgirl than Burnside. She actually acknowledges aspects of her past, and the struggles it's brought with it and why that should have resulted in growth.

Dinah is unfortunately still running around as Dinah Drake Lance with the shitty n52 backstory retcon intact and reliance on the band stuff. Sorry, Dinah. The first run really didn't do much to recanonise anything preboot for Dinah, just outlined her new history, though Siu Jerk Jai got a few references.

Helena? Look. This is the fourth? version of Helena's origin I've read and it looks like it's most riffed off Huntress Year One, and it's sticking with Helena's mum having an affair, sigh. However, on the scale of "is this actually Helena Bertinelli", there is so much credit on the 'once again has a backstory that actually works as a Helena Bertinelli backstory' side of the ledger that I don't really care. This is about the process of rehabilitation, and Helena is not just a Bertinelli, but the first thing she does is butt heads with Barbara over their combined stubbornness and her refusal to take direction, soooo. Yeah, pretty stoked.

I will say, with this lineup of new histories, instead of being the "two cops' daughters and a mafia princess" group it's now the "Missing Mothers Who Might Be Evil Issues" team. Which is a downgrade. I wouldn't care about them bonding over their mothers so much if it wasn't stereotype missing mother hour.

Overall conclusion?

I became emotional reading Batman: Rebirth, 'Tec, and B&BOP. Even for their flaws they all were trying hard and hit me with what they were attempting to achieve.

This was in no way a complete fix, and heck DC is STILL untangling some of the threads that they started trying to fix here with Rebirth, 8 years later. But oh it is enjoyable to see writing teams actually try and act like yeah, people are allowed to like preboot characterisation.

[kenzumekodma]

18+, minors & ageless blogs dni

apothecary witch reader au; chapter one

summary: “The price this time, stranger, is your name,” you grin, a playful glint crossing your eyes. The poor man looks like a deer caught in front of a lantern and you can’t help but laugh. “It’s not to worry, I’m no fae. I’m just interested when someone’s new around these parts.”

pairing: izuku midoriya x fem!reader, katsuki bakugou x fem!reader, tomura shigaraki x fem!reader

wc: 2272

warnings: quirkless fantasy au, lots of plot eventual smut, nothing really other than setting the scene here. other warnings will be added to future chapters a/n: kicking off kinktober with what i like to think of as a dark cottagecore au,. it’s not necessarily kinky but it gives me halloween vibes so it is what it is. this babie’s been bouncing around in my google docs since july and i’m both excited and scared to let it out. hopefully y’all will enjoy reading it as much as i’ve enjoyed writing it! while this is mostly sfw for the first few chapters, the same rules of minors and ageless blogs being blocked for interacting will still apply for my own comfort.

find the rest of my kinktober masterlist here!

Rosemary… lavender… honey… that’s it… 

You pluck a few small wedges of sun-dried lemon, rind and all, into the little jar, and slip the cork tightly into place. The way the sun is beaming through the window onto your workbench casts lace-like shadows onto the plank floor from the various herbs you have hanging up to dry. If there was any word to describe how you were feeling, it’s content. You do what you love. Day in and day out, you get to spend your evenings filling your journals with nuggets of information you’ve gathered over years of lovingly studying the plants around your little village and new flora arriving every few months with travelers and merchants.

Rain patters at the wooden roof of your cottage. A sun shower, you think to yourself. Good luck’s coming my way. You gather up the jars from your workspace into a basket, carefully grouping them together, and bring them to the front room. Bottles need to be shuffled around. You hum a little tune as you make space on the shelf over the lovingly scrawled labels. Something about this moment, this moment right here, makes you feel deep in your bones that you’re exactly where you need to be, exactly where you’re meant to be.

A polite cough pulls you from your own little world. Peeking through the half open door is a young man with curly jade hair and bright eyes to match. About your age, maybe a year younger, you’d guess. Raindrops bead on his hair, mirroring the freckles that are scattered across his face. You’re the one to break the silence. “Oh! Uhm, welcome! Sorry, I didn’t hear the bell. What can I do for you?” You set your basket on a stool and brush your hands off on your apron.

“You’re the… the, uh…” he starts, trailing off with a sheepish look. “The witch, yes,” you smile at him. “It’s alright, it’s not a dirty word, it’s just what I am.” “Right,” says the green-haired man, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “A friend of mine, well, she said you sell, uh, potions…” “The precursor to potions, really,” you correct. “I supply the jar and ingredients, you have to fill it up with hot water yourself. Take this one, for example.” You pick up the jar you’d filled just moments before he came in. “There’s lavender for healing, rosemary for memory so your body remembers how to stay whole, and honey is an antiseptic and a sweetener. A spoonful of honey makes the medicine go down.” The young man nods, seemingly taking it all in. “But you can’t just eat it as it is. It’ll be a little too potent and taste too strong. Add hot water to the jar, though, and you get yourself a nice infusion that’s good to drink and helps you feel better.” You cross the room and press the jar into his hand. “Here, this is what you’re after, yeah?” He nods, a light pink dusting his cheeks. “How’d you know?” “With hands like yours, I’d wager you’ve been in your fair share of fights. Scars like that don’t come from sitting around a fire and chatting with friends,” you say, running your thumb across the rough scars on his hand, both of you still holding the jar with your other hand. “Right. How much do I, uh, owe you?” he says, equal measures of curiosity and nerves in his voice. “The price this time, stranger, is your name,” you grin, a playful glint crossing your eyes. The poor man looks like a deer caught in front of a lantern and you can’t help but laugh. “It’s not to worry, I’m no fae. I’m just interested when someone’s new around these parts.”

“I’m M-Midoriya, Izuku Midoriya,” he stutters out, a nervous chuckle hot on his tail. “Nice to meet you, M-Midoriya,” you tease. “I’m y/n l/n, and I look forward to meeting you again. Gods know you’ll probably need it.” He visibly calms at your joking, and for the first time since he walked into your shop, he genuinely smiles. A handsome smile, you think. The western sun pours golden light on his features, highlighting his strong jaw and fine cheekbones. If you hadn’t seen his hands, you’d have had a hard time thinking he’d ever even seen a fight in his life. He takes a few steps back towards the door, then turns back to you. “l/n… Thank you. I’ll, I’ll see you around?” Izuku says. “I’m sure you will,” you reply. He smiles at you, and you at him, and he closes the door behind him.

The next time you see Izuku Midoriya is much sooner than you expected. But not as soon as I’d have liked, you find yourself thinking. You’re settled into a large leather chair next to the fire at the tavern at the heart of your little town, politely half listening to Hanta Sero and Denki Kaminari go on about what they found in the woods. Something about heather for some mead, something about… toads? “y/n! Are you still all there?” Sero nudges you. “Huh? Oh! I’m sorry, I was just thinking,” you apologize. “Well how about you think on these mushrooms. Are they safe to eat?” Kaminari asks.

Not toads, toadstools. You groan to yourself. That’s what you get for thinking about the not so stranger who’d walked in just moments before. Kaminari shoves a handful of mushrooms in front of your face. “Well?” he says impatiently. You take the fungi from him and study it for a moment. A long, thin, bronze stem ending in a slim, cone-shaped cap. An exploratory sniff for good measure. “Liberty caps,” you state matter of factly. “Not something you’d necessarily want in your mushroom stew, but not toxic, no. You’ll end up seeing some things you may wish you hadn’t if you eat it, though.” You shudder, remembering your own brush with those same mushrooms in the name of building your compendium. Sero and Kaminari grin at each other. “Mushroom stew?” Sero asks. “Mushroom stew,” Kaminari confirms. He hastily pulls the mushrooms back from you and stuffs them into a medium sized leather pouch hanging from his belt. “Didn’t think I’d see you again so quickly,” says a voice from behind you, and you realize you’d lost sight of Izuku while indulging your friends. You turn your head, and you’re face to face with him. He’s bent down to your level, using the back of the chair as an armrest. He smiles at you, and you send him a delayed smile back. “Neither did I. Not to say I’m disappointed,” you say. He pulls up a stool next to your chair. “I tried your… concoction earlier. It tasted better than I expected,” he says. You hum in acknowledgement. “And? How are you feeling?” “My hand’s seen better days, but it’s improved by leagues since this afternoon,” he rubs his thumb over his hand, the cloth bandage no doubt hiding his injuries more visible now without his long-sleeved jacket on. “Thanks,” he adds. “My pleasure. It’s what I’m meant to do,” you say. He studies your face for a moment. “It suits you,” he states quietly. “Hm?” “N-nothing, sorry.” Izuku fiddles with the edge of his bandage. He opens his mouth to speak, and is promptly interrupted by the arrival of a set of mugs being placed on the table with about as much grace and care as a baby giraffe. “Is that really necessary, Katsuki?” you sigh at the blond man towering over you and your small group. He ignores your question, instead flicking his head to Izuku’s direction. “What’s shitty Deku doing here?” Bakugou asks. “Izuku,” you retort, “is endearing. And he’s here because…” you turn to him, face falling from confidence to curiosity. “Actually, I don’t know why he’s here. I didn’t think to ask you before.” “I’m just, ah, passing through,” Izuku offers. “Might stay a while, Uraraka said she has a spare room I could stay in for a bit.” He faces you a little more directly. “She’s the one who, uhm, sent me to you,” he explains. “Midoriya!” booms a tall redhead. Kirishima takes the last seat around your small table next to the fire, bringing three bowls of food with him. You pull a mug of the ale towards you and take a sip. “It’s been too long, where’ve you been?” Kirishima grips Izuku’s arm from across the table, a friendly, manly greeting you’d grown accustomed to in the few years since you had moved to the little town and expanded your social circle. “Ah, you know… Here and there…” Izuku replies. “What about you, how’ve you been, Kirishima? And Kacchan?” “Been fine,” Bakugou mumbles into a forkful of beef. “Never fuckin’ better.” You purse your lips for a moment, take a swig of ale, and stand. “You boys catch up. I want to make sure Thing One and Thing Two don’t do anything stupid with those mushrooms,” you say, and you take your leave. “One afternoon in town and you’re already holing up with the witch, hah?” Bakugou says sharply. Izuku shakes his head. “It’s not like that, Kacchan, I swear. Ochako said y/n could help me, that’s all.” “And who do you think gave Round Face that information?” Katsuki grumbles. “Just don’t go getting her pulled into a mess you can’t clean up.” “He does care, you know,” Kirishima says, a friendly smile crossing his face. “Just has a shit way of expressing it.” The redhead pushes his untouched mug of ale towards Izuku. “Here,” he offers. “You sure?” “Yeah, I’ll have y/n’s, she doesn’t drink more than a few sips of this stuff anyways.” Kiri nods. “Better than letting it go to waste.” Izuku takes the mug from Kirishima, thanking him. He takes a mouthful of the ale and lets an awkward silence slowly envelop the small group as Bakugou and Kirishima eat. “Oh, for fuck’s sake…” the three men hear your exhasperated voice ring out from across the room. “I’m taking you out of here before they kick us out for good,” you say, dragging Kaminari by the arm towards the door. Izuku squints and is just able to make out a small mushroom in Kaminari’s hand with a distinct bite mark taken out of it. “Sorry to cut it short, I’ll see you later?” you call to the three men at your table. Bakugou grunts, and Kirishima nods and waves. Izuku just smiles at your retreating form.

By the time night falls in earnest, you’ve sent Denki on his way with a bottle filled with ginger, cloves, and cinnamon already infusing into water -- it’ll need the extra time, you think -- and have settled into your chair at home with your crochet work. A knock on the door interrupts your stitch count.

“It’s not locked,” you call. “And I doubt it’d stop you if it was.” A tall blonde man opens your side door, careful to not let it creak too loudly. He crouches to sit on the footstool beside your fireplace. “You could try coming in the day sometime, Katsuki. What happened this time?” You set your work down to rummage through a cabinet of medical supplies. Katsuki stands and catches your wrist before you get too far. “Nothin’ happened,” he says. “Just wanted to see you,” he adds, quieter. The corners of your lips turn upward in a small smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Well, here I am,” you say. “Here you are,” he repeats, pulling you closer to him. Your eyes flicker to the hand around your wrist and he releases it. His chest stills, breath held till he sees your next move. You gently grasp the lapel of his leather coat and his chest falls. “Do you really think this is a good idea?” you ask him. “I’m tryin’ not to think,” he confesses. The fire casts a golden light over his eyes, causing them to glow crimson in the relative darkness of the room. You take his cheek in your hand and brush your thumb across his blond stubble. “Not thinking isn’t really your strong suit, Kats,” you murmur. He clears his throat. “Kaminari still actin’ like a dunce face?” Katsuki asks. You take your seat again, letting the last few moments roll off you like rain. “He’ll be fine. It only lasts six or eight hours. No doubt he’ll have some stories to tell tomorrow, though,” you say. The blond man nods, used to his friend’s dumbassery. “Why’d you really come?” you ask. Katsuki shifts. “Be careful with that damn nerd,” he says. “Who, Izuku?” your brow quirks. He lifts his chin in acknowledgement, then casts his eyes downward. “He’s not how he seems, is all. Just be careful.” “Kats, I can handle it. He needs healing, I provide. Same as I do for you and Kirishima. You’ve got nothing to be worried about,” you reassure him. “Nothin’ fucks with you, hah?” he says. His lips curl into a little smirk, and you chuckle. “Not yet, but compiling my book on wild berries did give me a run for my money,” you smile. Katsuki lets out a little laugh. His eyes meet yours. “Keep it that way, will ya?” With that, he stands, everything he wants to say bubbling under the surface of his lips, and makes for the door. “Katsuki?” you call after him. He turns to you. “Thank you. For looking out for me.” He nods once, and then he’s gone.

[alreadyblondenow]

I want it and I f*cking got it

Lee Haechan x virgin!reader 

high school setting / crush became boyfriend 

Themes: FLUFF, SMUT

Summary: You are the shining new girl and the Lee Haechan has eyes on you.

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: This some high school shit realness haha, theres a part where he touched her without consent, swearing, detailed (?) smut, smut again, mentions of blowjob, fingering, oral, mentions of other idols, unprotected sex (pulling out), mentions of alcohol

A/N: Inspired by Hairspray’s ‘I can hear the bells’, I made this just for fun so I can take a break from writing fics with heavy plots. If there are misplaced words or typos I’m sorry. Happy reading!

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

Lee Haechan, is so handsome.

That’s the first thing that came in your head when you saw him at the hallway for the first time. He was with his friends Mark, Renjun and Jeno laughing and teasing each other while walking to their next class. You on the other hand is watching them from a far while you put your books and other stuff in your locker.

“Forget it, he’s with Lia. The most popular girl in school” Yeri nudge you and told you more facts about Lia and Haechan. Because of your cousin Yeri, you’re now updated about your crush’s love life. In less than a minute you found out that they’ve been dating basically since freshman year, “those two are inseparable” she added.

A mild heat slowly builds up around your body because they will walk pass by you so you decided to turn your back on them. But then someone bumped you hard that you almost hit your head on your locker door. You wanted to shout and curse at the person who bumped you but you became speechless when you finally saw who it was.

“Oh sorry. I didn’t mean to bump you. The hallways can be so crowded, you should be careful”

Lee Haechan smiled and pats your head and went to his third period. Definitely unprepared and you didn’t expect that that will be your first interaction with him. It happened so fast. You can’t believe it but that sure made you smile from ear to ear, even your cousin was surprised. Being the new girl wasn’t so bad after all when you have Lee Haechan as your happy crush.

ROUND 1

The next day, during your English Literature class with Haechan, he tapped your shoulder and gave you a small piece of paper which you accepted when Mr. Kim wasn’t looking.

I’m really sorry about yesterday. Hope you’re okay -Fullsun

You wrote back with caution, thinking about how you’re just being polite and that this is not considered flirting.

No harm done. Thank you for the reminder about the hallways.  

You turned your back and faced him quickly, gave him the paper with a smile then faced front again. Just like that the chance to flirt back with your crush slipped away. Why? Because you didn’t want to play with fire and ruin your good girl reputation in your new school by flirting with your crush who has a girlfriend.  

Day by day, Haechan tries to start a simple conversation with you before class starts. Telling you how you look you look nice, asking you what did you eat for breakfast, updating you about the weather, and basically everything he could ever think of just to get the chance to talk to you.

It gets harder and harder to avoid Haechan so you gave up and gave him the satisfaction of finally having a decent conversation with you. It was in the middle of watching Titanic during class when he started to whisper beside your ear softly that sends tingles to your spine. Everyone was quiet and focused to how handsome Leonardo DiCaprio is while you focus on how Haechan melts your heart whispering how he loves this movie.  

“That movie is the movie of my life”

“I agree that it’s a great movie. Nicely made and deserving for it’s awards but I still don’t know it’s connection with our English Lit” you whispered back to him, trying to be subtle as possible so you wont get caught by Mr. Kim. “I think Mr. Kim is a hopeless romantic, and so are you”

He giggled quietly at what you said to him, trying so hard not to forget how your voice sounds like the whole time you were whispering beside him. The next think you know, you two were keeping the conversation going until he caught you crying and hands you his handkerchief. It was not necessary but you felt him caress your head and pat it softly to give you comfort.

If the Lee Haechan is normally friendly like this, so be it. You decided to befriend him if you can’t flirt with him, you started talking whenever he sees you around school, during lunch breaks, class hours or dismissal. He continued giving you small notes during class that mainly contains questions about Romeo and Juliet, or whenever he notices that Mr. Kim’s tie doesn’t go with his outfit. Even giving you songs to listen to and a Micheal Jackson playlist.  Little did you know he was flirting already.

“Hey, Jeno is having a party this Friday. You should go” your heart thumps the whole time you were putting your books inside your bag while Haechan was talking to you about Jeno’s party. “since you’re new here, I can introduce you around” he added and gave you an awkward smile.

“Not sure” you shook your head.

“Give me your phone” you didn’t have a choice but you handed it to him. You watch him save his number and name himself ‘Fullsun ☀️’. “Here, text me if you’ll go. I got you, I promise”

After that conversation with Haechan, you told Yeri the whole story which she finds hard to believe. You even showed her Haechan’s contact to make her believe you and she screeched like a bird when she finally did. “Not bad cousin! You should totally go, meet the popular kids you know” she winked at you, “who knows maybe you’ll be friends with Jeno and you can introduce him to me”

“Psh. Yeah, and show Lia that I’m interested with his sexy hot boyfriend? No thanks”

“Ooh by the way, update about the couple…” Yeri stopped walking, “they’re not together anymore. Shocker right? Story says, Lia told Haechan he’s not good enough for her”

“What the actual fu- How perfect does she think she is?”

How can someone say that to someone perfect like Haechan. What Yeri just told you made you swim with never ending thoughts about Haechan. Like, how is he holding on? Is he okay? Because he looked totally fine during the days he was talking to you. Should you really go to the party for him? “Thanks for the update Yeri, I’ll think about it. See you in school!”

When you’re finally home and relaxed, you thought maybe you could give the party a shot. It’s not that you hate parties, it’s just that you don’t know enough people to have fun in a party. But still, even though you’re convinced to go you always find a reason to stop yourself.

While you’re busy contemplating if you’re going to the party, Haechan is busy thinking about you and waiting for your text. Hoping that you will come save him from the sea of people judging him because of his ex Lia. “You do realise that once that girl step foot in this house and people start seeing you together, that will totally bring chaos in her life” Mark came out of nowhere with a cup of beer for Haechan.

“It’s my first time liking someone, I’m not going to let the chance slip away to try and win her”

“What do you mean first time? How about Lia?”

“Oh come on dude, you know I never liked Lia, it’s just a stupid favor I did for my family. I tried to like her. But really, I can’t” he scoffed and took a sip, “y/n gave me reasons everyday to like her”

Mark tried to warn his best friend but he figured he was too late. Haechan is already head over heels and no one can stop him from making a move to you. “Yeah, you’re right. This is the first time I see you smile because of a girl” Mark chugged his beer and left Haechan to get a refill.

To be completely honest, Haechan is scared to drag you with the drama that comes with him the moment he finally confess to you. He thought about ways on how to avoid all that and what Mark said when suddenly his phone dings.

You: Sorry it took me awhile. Send me the address?

This time, it’s Haechan who’s smiling from ear to ear because of you and nervous because you’re finally coming.

ROUND 2

You put on a simple white shirt, black pants, your favorite shoes and your favorite biker jacket. Hoping that Haechan will like your simplicity and that the party will appreciate people who underdress. Now that you know the truth between him and Lia, you’re not holding yourself back. If Haechan flirts with you tonight, you will definitely flirt back.

“You look iconic, come on I’ll get you a drink” he welcomed you with a hug outside Jeno’s house which you think is nice, he didn’t let you step inside a stranger’s house alone. The house looks great and you’re sure that without the neon lights scattered everywhere the house will definitely look like a home. Besides the generous amount of neon lights, the house is loud and full of jumping teenagers who are all strangers to you.

To your surprise, Haechan grabbed hold to your hand so you wont get lost in the crowd. You follow his lead which brought you to the mini bar beside the pool full of horny teenagers who are probably having pool sex at this very second.

“No hard drinks for the lady please” he said to his friend Renjun who mixes the drinks. He saw you and Haechan still holding each other’s hands and he quickly gave Haechan a teasing look that made him let go of you. “Before my dumb friend gets you into trouble, let me introduce myself” he offered his hand for you to shake which you gladly accepted, “Hi, I’m Renjun. I made every mixed drink you see in this party”

Haechan rolled his eyes and mouthed ‘show off’ towards his friend. “Impressive, and you’re not getting tired?- Oh y/n by the way” you shake his hand firmly and the next thing you know Haechan is getting the drinks and dragging you away from his friend to meet the other two, which you already knew who they are. Mark is the smart one and Jeno is the captain of the Taekwondo team.

The night went on beautifully and fun while you two flirt with each other the whole time in front of everyone to see without giving even one fuck about what they say behind your back. Even though you’re already a little buzzed because of the alcohol, you didn’t miss how Haechan placed his hand while he helps you win the beer pong game against Jeno and Mark, which again isn’t necessary because you know how to play beer pong.

“Okay, I think you’ve had enough fun for tonight. I’m taking you home” Haechan said while helping you put your jacket. He walked you home under the quiet and dark neighbourhood, laughing quietly while he tells you the most funniest jokes. Neither one of you don’t want to finish this night but it’s getting late, “thank you for inviting me to Jeno’s party” you said, stopping in front of your house. Crossing your arms and telling yourself that if this guy kiss you tonight, you’re going to scare him and make fun of him.

“Yeah, I definitely can tell you had fun” he slowly went closer to you and kissed your lips. Letting him fall to your trap. You pushed him away with enough force that tells him to stop, “s-sorry. I thought, were on the same page” Haechan panics and apologised immediately.

“Am I some kind of rebound? Or you’re just flirting because you want your ex to get jealous and win her back?” what you said was part true, you do want to know his intentions.

He breathes heavily before he explains with shaking voice, “The relationship I had with Lia is something I did for my mom, because my mom and Lia’s mom are friends and they want us to end up with each other. And I clearly don’t like that idea. I tried liking Lia but I couldn’t force myself when what I feel tells me exactly the truth and the answers to my questions”

He moved away to you while he’s pouring his heart out by explaining and telling you the truth. Hearing it made you feel guilty but at the same time you’re praising yourself for being a genius because you got Haechan to tell you the truth effortlessly.

“Quite frankly I don’t want this to end. If I fuck this up so what, I don’t care. I’ll fix it. I’m going to start over again, even if it means I have to bump on you accidentally on the hallway. Again. Just- fuck, I didn’t mean to move so fast, I’m so sorry” Haechan can hear his own heart beat, nervous that you’re just standing in front of him with crossed arms and not saying anything after everything he told you.  

Soon, you can’t hold it in even longer. You burst into laughter and giggled loudly. Bringing Haechan closer to you and cupping his handsome face, admiring how cute he is with panic eyes. “It’s a joke. I’m sorry I made you nervous, handsome” you put your arms around Haechan’s neck and watch him get playfully annoyed to you. He shook his head on disbelief because you’re the only person who can match with his wit.

“Kiss me again?” you asked oh so sweetly, raking his soft hair.

He nods his head and kissed you again, softer than before and even meaningful than the first. You felt him smile in between kissing when you finally kissed him back. Savouring the feeling of your lips on his and the warmth of your embrace. And when the kiss is over, he puts his thumb on your lips, swiping the spit on those pretty lips. “Is this finally good night?” he asked, still looking at your lips.

“Sad to say, yes. Unless you find a way to climb up quietly to my room?”

He let out a soft giggle, “No. I don’t want to move so fast. Talk to you when I get home?”

“Yes please” before you two part ways, he gave you one last peck on the lips and finally let you go.

When Haechan got home, you were tucked in bed and waiting for your phone to ring and answer his call. And when he finally did, you two can’t see it but you’re both smiling widely while talking to each other and just hearing each other’s voices makes your heart flutter. It didn’t bother you two if the sun is shinning brightly already, Haechan waited for you to get tired and eventually fall asleep. Before he ends the call, he whispered a soft good night through the phone and went to bed with a smile.

ROUND 3

Come Monday, you were just telling Yeri about your weekend with Haechan and his friends and talking like how you two normally do around school when Lia blocked your way out on the girl’s restroom. “So you’re the new girl? If it wasn’t for you, Hyuck and I would still be together. You just had to ruin everything we’ve built for our relationship when you decided to go to this school”  

“Not my fault you didn’t locked him up before I transfer schools. But it is my fault that you’re single now” you flashed a teasing smile at her before you head out and made sure to bump her shoulder on purpose. That would teach her a lesson and she will definitely know you’re not just anybody.

Truth be told you don’t want any fight because of someone who doesn’t understand the core meaning of the word ‘breakup.’ It’s clear that she’s just mad that you’re seeing Haechan now and that he’s more than happy with the relationship. But you can’t let someone treat you bad just because you got who you want, fair and square.

After school, you and Haechan went to his house to do some studying for English Literature. You love how it’s so quiet around their neighbourhood and the golden ray of light hits Haechan’s skin perfectly. From now on, golden hours with Haechan will be your thing.

You two sat on their hammock swing chair at their backyard, enjoying the golden hour by talking and giggling like little kids on a swing. “Who made this swing? I feel like I’m a baby” you said, feeling so comfortable beside Haechan.

“You are a baby. My baby” he raised his eyebrows once and winked at you. As your heart flutter because of what he said, you rolled your eyes at him and gave him a peck on the lips. Just a peck, because you knew all too well he will ask for more.

“What? That’s it? Just a peck?” he whines on disappointment.

“Yes. That’s all, come on. Homework time” breaking away from his embrace, you force yourself to stand up and convince Haechan to start studying. He brought you to your room so you two could focus on studying and to have some privacy after doing the homework.

“Guess who blocked my way at the girl’s restroom earlier” you sat on Haechan’s lap and put your arms around his neck.

“I know. Jeno told me he found Lia crying with Yeji and Ryunjin” he starts kissing your neck then realised he shouldn’t. “Listen, that girl is drama and I know you can take care of her but I just want to have a peaceful relationship with you. Please, just ignore her. These people will bring you down, and the more you notice them the more they will ruin you”

And it’s true what Haechan said, for the following weeks Lia’s group of friends has been hating you with all their might. Typical high school bullies who won’t stop at nothing but when Haechan took care of it, you felt so proud and safe. The look on Lia’s face when Haechan stood up for you in front of everyone definitely gave you the satisfaction and happiness. From there on, no one dares to meddle with your relationship with Haechan.

Things has been great between you and Haechan, you met his sister and his parents which are all adorable. Although his mom is still in favor with Lia, but nonetheless she respects Haechan’s decision.

After graduation, you spend too much time on Haechan’s place and sometimes things can go out of control. In the middle of making out with Haechan, your eyes widened when he suddenly slips his hand under your shirt and pull down the left cup of your bra. It felt uncomfortable and violating so you pushed him away from you.

“Nah, I’m not falling for that” you can’t believe what you’re hearing from your boyfriend and it’s making you crazy how suffocating it felt the whole time he was groping your boobs and pinching your nipples. Haechan thought you pushing him away was a prank like the one you did when he kissed you for the first time.

But he heard you sobbing and it made him stop. “Shit- shit! I’m sorry” he covered you with his thick duvet and gave you space. He went downstairs to get you a glass of water and slightly hated himself for what he just did to you.

Before he came back, you convinced yourself that he didn’t mean it and that your boyfriend is not a bad person. You made yourself presentable again and wiped your tears not wanting your boyfriend to see you scared around him. The moment he knocks on the door your heart jumped and you got nervous again, feeling your tears fall but you don’t know why.

He gave you a glass of water and you accepted it with shaking hands. Haechan sat on the edge of his bed, turning his back on you because he knew what he just did. He violated you and he didn’t even stop when you told him to, you don’t know but deep inside he’s punishing himself for being like that.

The two of you stayed away from each other for a good twenty minutes. Then you crawled towards him slowly and hugged him from behind, he’s more than happy that you don’t hate him and that you’re not going to breakup with him. “This will never happen again, I promise. I will never rush you ever again”

And it’s a promise he kept.

ROUND 4

When Haechan promised you that he will take it slow and not rush you with anything, he kept his word.

But now that you two are heading to college and spending the whole summer together as much as you can, you two can’t get enough of each other. There are times when you two will just lay down the swing, enjoy the quietness of the afternoon and watch the sun go down. Hands intertwined and legs tangled.

Some days are extra fun when you two help his sister bake anything she wants from cookies to cupcakes and Haechan will end up making a mess at the kitchen. Then by night you three will enjoy what you guys made while watching scary movies on Netflix.

And even though you’re still a virgin and so inexperienced compared to Haechan, you two find a way to feed your sex life without going all the way. You finally let him touch you without pushing him away or feeling violated, little by little you learned how to let go.

You remember when Haechan finger fucked you for the first time, you were so nervous because anyone can step in the living room and see that Haechan is on top of you. “Keep it down, my sister is on the other room” his kisses on your neck are not like any other, now it’s wet and his hands are all over your body. Kneading your clothed boobs, squeezing it a little harsh because he’s too horny. You can’t say you don’t like what he’s doing because you love it. Every part of it.

You love how his hands cups your boobs while he’s busy kissing your neck and you make quiet moans that Haechan loves so much. There were no talking the whole time, just pure kissing and quiet everything. You don’t have to ask him to do something because he knew perfectly well what you want. The couch is a bit uncomfortable for two people grinding on each other and kissing hungrily but no one seems to care.

“We won’t go all the way, I promise” he said but his hands are creeping under your skirt and on its way to remove your panties. “But we will go pretty far tonight, is that okay?” you nod your head nervously. To be honest he’s nervous too. Scared even. Scared that maybe you won’t approve of what he’s going to do and push him away again. You on the other hand really have no idea why he needs to remove your panties if he promised not to have sex with you tonight.

Heat surrounds your body when you saw Haechan put your panties on their coffee table. The living room is dark but once you opened your knees and lift your skirt, he will see your pussy for the first time. You breathe deeply when you felt his cold hands on top of your knee, ready to spread your legs open. “Shit- baby, stop” he stopped and gave you his jacket to cover your exposed legs. “Just give me a minute. I’m really shy right now, I don’t know why. Fuck, I’m sorry Hyuck”

“It’s okay, do you want to go to the bathroom to wear your panties?”

“No no, I don’t want to stop. Just getting shy that’s all. This will pass” it’s true you don’t want him to stop because you’re too horny now. “Kiss me?” he smiled and gave your request. You put away his jacket and pulled him close to you. Now you’re leaning comfortably on the armrest of their couch while Haechan kiss you softly. “I think I’m ready now” you told him in between kisses, but instead of making his move he just smiled at you and continue kissing you.

“I’ll tell you when you’re ready”

You don’t know what does that mean. You just enjoyed how he kisses you so filthy for the first time while his hands are resting on your closed legs. His tongue moves perfectly around your neck, leaving marks on the exposed skin of your cleavage and whispering dirty words that makes your legs spread unconsciously and put him right in between you.

“See, now you’re ready. You’re pretty wild yourself baby, spreading your legs for me huh” he teased you in between kisses that made you smile. Who would’ve thought spreading your legs for Haechan would feel really great.

In middle of feeling Haechan’s tongue dance around your neck and your hands are busy keeping him closer to your body, you feel his right hand made it’s way in between your legs and made contact with your wet folds. Without hesitation, you rolled your head back and closed your eyes as you enjoy his middle finger glide up and down your slit and spread your pussy juices.

Of course he knows what he’s doing, he watched you to melt with his touch underneath him while he play with your pussy. And again, unconsciously, you grind your hips on his finger completely letting go of your innocence. This will definitely not the first and last time Haechan will do this to you.

As your mind floats on how good Haechan makes you feel good, he flicks his finger a little faster, pinching your clit to make you moan, and finally putting his finger inside you. It made you open your eyes and look him in the eye. “that’s like a sneak peek on what it feels like to be fucked. Not even close but for the mean time, I’ll make cum using my fingers”

Your lips touched as he pumps his finger inside you, adding digits without any warning so you can have the full experience. Being quiet became a challenge when you’re finally on edge and Haechan’s fingers were still inside you while he’s whispering dirty things beside your ear. He needed to cover your mouth to muffle your moans when you finally came, closing your legs, crushing his arm in between them to ease the sensitivity of your clenching pussy.

“I fucking love you Lee Haechan”

ROUND 5

After slowly introducing you to more sexual activities you two are now bold and confident about touching each other. After a lot of trial and errors, you’re now an expert of sucking your boyfriend’s dick whenever you two are alone at their living room. You now happily open your legs for him to eat your pussy in your room and you let him finger you during Netflix and chill with his sister.

And now, after you suck him off and make him moan for the first time, you finally told him that you want to have sex with him and that you’re ready to go all the way. With no questions asked, Haechan helped you remove your clothes quickly and you did the same with him. Ending up fully naked in Haechan’s bed is making you shy like the first time he touched you and this is not good.

“Baby, calm the fuck down... stop moving” he giggle at you while lining his dick to your dripping entrance. The head of his dick is finally inside when you hiss again closing your legs and moving away from him. Telling him that it fucking hurts, even though it wasn’t even in yet.

“It wont hurt, I got you! You’re fucking dripping for crying out loud. Sliding in wont be a problem. Come on” he taps and caress both your thighs as he waits for you to open your legs again for him. Slowly he touches your soft skin, admiring how you stayed a virgin for him, your skin is glowing because of the golden sunlight from the window beside his bed.

Opening your legs again, Haechan kneels in between you and hooks both of his arms under your legs so you won’t get to close them again. “Line my cock so I can push in” you followed him like a good girl as he leans closer to your face for a kiss. His cock just perfectly lined to your cunt while you both kiss and enjoy each other’s sweet lips. Sweating and really nervous, he felt your chest move up and down against his and noticed that you’re getting scared every second that passes.

“Baby, it’s me, Haechan. Your boyfriend. Why are you being like this? Hmm? I thought you wanted this?” his tone was telling you to trust him because he’s your boyfriend. Telling you oh so sweetly to calm down or else he will stop and put your clothes back on. Still not moving from his position, Haechan didn’t want you to be scared before pushing his cock inside you so he continued talking to you.

“S-sorry. Just stuff running in my head. S-scared but I- yeah, I want this. Fuck, baby I want this to happen so bad. Can you just force it? Don’t wait for me to calm down?” You beg your boyfriend but he shook his head no.

“Where’s the love in that if I force this in you? I’ll kiss you while I go in, hows that?” the offer wasn’t bad, you nod agreeing to him and his lips touch yours the moment you nod.

Waiting for the perfect time to push in, Haechan can be really patient when it comes to you. When he felt you let go, he slowly pushed in and you swear you stopped breathing for a moment. Taking a second to finally believe that Haechan is fucking you now. Speechless the whole time as you feel him go inside you, you stare at his eyes shining because of the afternoon light.

Your hand flew to his face, gripping his chin and jaw as you feel slightly betrayed. “You said it wouldn’t hurt?” a small tear run down your eye as you feel the stretch of your cunt stinging so bad you can’t stop whimpering.

“Sshh. Of course it will hurt baby. Can you feel this?” Haechan was half moaning and grunting while talking to you, moving his cock in and out slowly to prove his point not pulling out entirely. You nod your head, moaning deliciously. Feeling how he’s so good, lips parted as you wait for him to be balls deep inside you, letting go a low “ooh” once he’s fully inside.

You reach in for his lips again devouring it while you clench and unclench all you want. “You won’t cum if we just keep on kissing. Stop luring me you minx” he kissed your left boob, biting and sucking it as he rolls his hips a little giving you a peak of what’s about to happen. Haechan pull away when he felt you stiffen again, hips roll slowly as you get familiar with the stretch.

“Sensitive baby, I cant-“

“Of course you can you’re my girl”

Without a warning he gave you piercing thrust, enough to make your boobs bounce. Licking the valley between your breast before you could curse him out. Reaching for your hands as he brings them both on top of your head together with the pillows, fucking you with a steady and fast pace.

“I love you. You know that right?” A breathy and weak “yes” escaped from your mouth. Toes curling already as you feel that knot on your lower abdomen.

After a few fast thrust and some delicious slow ones that you specifically loved, you reached your much awaited high and Haechan pulled his dick out and pumps it in front of you. Ruining his perfect blue sheets. Making you horny and crave for your boyfriend again, you reach in for another condom,  “Again, Haechan please let’s make round two a little longer”

He let out a small laugh as he lays beside you, fingertips scraping on your golden skin. “So now you’re begging me to fuck you again huh, okay. Round 2 in five minutes, I need to catch my breath” he said and left a kiss on your shoulders.

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

Masterlist

First of all thank you for reading! This is inspired by Link and Tracy’s love story in Hairspray. I just rewatched it earlier and damn I forgot how I used to love every song in that movie. Hope you guys can watch it :) Also listen to I can hear the bells hihi.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Quarantine: A Love Story: {That Fourth Of July👀}

Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Cursing, Lite Angst, Plot, Stand Alone/Addition Chapter, Flirting, Slow Burn, Tease

Words: 2.7k

Note: This is a standalone/addition chapter. I wanted to give you guys a glimpse of what Fourth Of July was for Chris and Reader as it is referenced a lot and does hold significance for both of them. This is where it all began.

I hope you guys enjoy this. If you enjoyed this LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG.

As always, thank you for reading!!! ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Slightly Interactive***

Previous Chapters:  Q1 |  Q2 |  Q3 |  Q4 |  Q5 |  Q6 |  Q7 |  Q8 |  Q9 | Q10 | Q11 | Q12 | Q13 | Q14 | Q15 | Q16 | Q17 | Q18  | Q19 | Q20 | Q21 | Q22 | Q23 | Q24 | Q25 | 

~~~~~~~~~~~

-Fourth Of July, 2017- 

“I can’t believe you said that to him,” Tara said as everyone around you busted out laughing.

 You did your best to stifle yours, but it was difficult. You took another swig from your beer bottle and leaned back to brace your elbows on the lounger behind you. Your elbows bumped into someone, making you tilt your head backward to see Scott sitting there. He winked at you before he took a sip from his bottle, and you did the same.

 “What was I supposed to say? Hey, I like the way your swim trunks look on you?”

 “I think that would have been better than you’d look a lot better with them off,” you replied.

 Snickers followed.

 “Okay, Ms., I always know the right thing to say,” Scott began. “Let’s say you approached whoever it is that you’ve been eying all night. What would your opening line be?”

 “Oh no, you will not drag me into this,” you objected.

 “No, no. I think that’s a good question. What would you say?”

 You sighed and guzzled from your beer bottle, trying not to answer.

 “There are many variables. With you, you probably just wanted to get your tip wet,” you blurted out.

 “Okay, let’s say you also wanted what I wanted, the same thing. What would this opening line be?”

 You thought for a few moments staring down the beach at nothing in particular. After a few moments, Chris’s face came into focus as he walked toward the group of you from the direction you’d been looking. Of their own accord, your eyes roamed over him, taking in every detail the dwindling daylight allowed. His khaki shorts fit his frame perfectly, clinging to the right places. You could tell he was slim but also that he had plenty of muscle mass. When your eyes took in the unbuttoned salmon color short-sleeve button-down he wore that showed his white undershirt, it gave you full sight of the muscles he was still sporting thanks to Marvel.

 He was a good looking man. There was no denying that Scott’s brother was a good looking man. It was clear with how many conquests he’d had and how many women lusted after him. You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip and traced the spout of the bottle along your mouth, completely unaware of what you were doing. As he got closer, your eyes met, and Chris’s eyes zeroed in on your mouth.

 “You look like you were made for sin, and I have a long list of ways we can do it together. The list begins with suck, but there is no end to what I want to do to you,” you said as you stared at Chris.

 No one around you spoke, but you wouldn't have known if they had. All you saw was Chris. The way he looked at you made you feel--plain and simply feel, and you hated it. Over the last few months, you’d taken notice of this lingering thing between you. Whenever you looked at each other, spoke to one another, or even hung out together, it was present. You didn’t know how to explain what it was, but just because something couldn’t be explained didn’t mean it wasn’t present, no matter how you wished it wasn’t so.

 Everyone around you erupted with applause forcing you to look away from Chris’s eyes.

 “Impressive,” Tara complimented.

 “Shiit, I’d take you up on that offer,” Scott added, making you giggle.

 “No end, huh.”

 Embarrassment filled you, but something else entirely brought your eyes to Chris, who was still looking at you, and the way he was doing it made a slow tingle journey up your spine.

 “What about a game of football before we lose the light?”

 With that, everyone began to scatter to make it down the beach to begin a friendly game of football. Only this was not a friendly game of football. It was a teasing one. You and Chris were cast on opposite teams. After one play, it was clear to see that everyone was either drunk or very tipsy because no one made a touchdown or even came close to it. All anyone accomplished was stumbling over their own feet, bumping into each other, and nearly losing the ball to the water. It was a mess, but a fun mess.

 Play after play resulted in absolutely nothing but a face full of sand, or your legs tangled with someone else’s and plenty of laughter. Halfway through the game, in a play that Scott formulated, he thought it was a good idea to throw you the ball expecting you to cross the volleyball net being used as the goal point. With the ball in hand and several beers and glasses filled of dark and light liquor in your system, you attempted to run for the goal. You heard the loud cheering of those around you and dodged everyone who was coming at you. You felt like you were Tebow, Romo, or even Sanders. It didn’t take you long to start feeling yourself and begin imitating the Heisman pose every chance you got. Everyone erupted with laughter at your antics. When you thought you were home free, someone threw you over their shoulder and ran you to the water, then threw you in.

 Your scream was loud as you sputtered from the water in your mouth and the sheer shock of the temperature of the water. When you stood, you saw Chris standing there with the football under his arm.

 “Cool off.”

 You couldn’t help but laugh, as did everyone around you. Taking the opportunity of Chris being distracted, you ran to him then tackled him sending him back into the water as an incoming wave crashed over the two of you. When you came up, you saw everyone running to the water shouting as they began flinging water everywhere.

 Chris had a smile on his face watching you stand. “Ha, you cool down!”

 He laughed but then charged you, making you take off down the shore as if you could outrun him. Within a few seconds, Chris managed to throw you over his shoulder again and began wadding out to the open sea. Your laughs melded together until he tossed you over again. The two of you remained in the water playing together, laughing and just enjoying each others company.

 By the time you returned to the sand, you were soaked, and because you hadn’t gotten to take off your clothes before being mercilessly thrown into the water, your clothes were also drenched. In the bathroom, you thought of your options. You could always just walk around in your bikini. It wouldn’t be inappropriate because you were at the beach after all. It may draw eyes to you, though, you thought. You began to regret your bikini choice, mainly the bottoms that left very little to nothing to the imagination.

 As you dried off, you peeled off your clothes off of your body and examined yourself. After contemplating your options for a few minutes, you heard a knock at the door. When you opened it you saw Chris standing there, shirtless. His eyes looked over your body twice before you realized you’d fully opened the door rather than cracked it. Fixing your mistake, you left your head poking out.

 “Hi.”

 Chris cleared his throat, then dipped his head before he spoke. “Em, since it’s my fault, here you go.”

 He held out the shirt he’d been wearing earlier. Just looking at it, you knew it was going to be oversized on you.

 “Uh,” you began while slowly reaching for it.

 “Take it as a peace offering,” Chris added flicking a lopsided grin on his face, a grin you met with rolled eyes.

 “You’re lucky this is my only option, but don’t you think this makes up for what you did,” you teased, taking the shirt

 “Oh really. What do I have to do to make it up to you then?”

 The way he asked had you meeting his eyes, and that was where they stayed. You bit your bottom lip then looked away. “I’m sure you can figure something out with all your—experience.”

 You smiled, then held up his shirt. “Thanks.”

 You closed the door, then threw on the shirt and tried to find a way to rock it without it looking like it wasn’t a planned look. It took you longer than you liked, but when you finally made it out of the bathroom and back to your friends, you were comfortable with how you looked. Everyone was now around a bonfire broken off in their own conversations as a movie played on the projected screen. You didn’t see Scott right away, so after getting your phone, you found a free blanket and laid down, getting comfortable.

 About ten or so minutes, Scott joined you, filling you in on his quick sexcapade. As you listened to him, you thought, of course he’d disappeared for a little fun. You didn’t knock him for it; hell, it wasn’t a bad way to enjoy the Fourth of July. By the time he finished giving you all the details, everyone had begun making their way to the beach to watch the fireworks that would blast out over the water. You told Scott to go ahead and save your spot so you could grab another beer.

 At the back of the lawn, where there was a makeshift bar set up, you rummaged through the bucket searching for the beer you wanted, but you couldn’t find not even one.

 “I think I took the last one,” a familiar voice said.

 You turned and saw Chris standing there in a tank that showed off some of his tattoos and your favorite beer in hand.

 “Seems you did.”

 “If I gave this to you, would I then have made it up to you?”

 You smiled and stepped closer to him, close enough to take the beer with no resistance. “Nope.”

 Chris smiled while staring down at you. You didn’t move and decided you wanted to see what he would do. The way he’d been looking at you all night had finally had your curiosity overflowing. You’d heard the rumors and stories of the conquests Scott’s brother had and how he enjoyed one night stands. You were not above them, especially if the man was good looking and not an asshole. Chris licked his lips, then spoke.

 “So what do I have to do?”

 “I think what you have to do might be the same as what you want to do. If that’s the case, try it.”

Long moments stretched with the two of you gawking at each other, both waiting for the other to make their move. You decided that if he made a move, you wouldn’t reject him, but you would not be the one to make a move. The first thunder of fireworks exploded across the sky, lighting up the lawn with bright red light. Everyone at the shore erupted with applause and cheers, but you and Chris still held each other’s gaze.

 He lifted his hand, hesitated, then lowered it to your cheek. He then slid his thumb across your skin. You didn’t know if he were wiping something away or just touching you because he wanted to.

 “What do you want, Y/N? hmm?”

 He looked lost in your skin as his fingers continued to enjoy its suppleness.

 “For you to take what you want,” you slid in, walking away from him toward the shore.

 Every few steps, you looked back at him only to turn back around in a teasing way. You were teasing him and hoped he took the bait.

  -Chris-

He wanted to take the bait more than anything. He had been watching you all night, and he had seen you staring right at him with what you’d said about your chosen pick up line. He wondered if you were gearing it to him. he wondered about it so much that it drove him crazy the whole day. He purposely threw you in the water, knowing you hadn’t brought a spare change of clothes. It was slightly manipulative, but the part of him who decided was not the logic-driven Chris. It was the desire-driven one.

 From the day he’d met you, he knew you would be a problem. He knew you would tempt him in a way he hadn’t been before, a way that made him uncomfortable and went past wanting to stake a claim sexually. For months, your intellect tempted him. The mental sparring that was so natural with you was attractive as hell. Then the whole night peeks of your body tempted him coupled with your wit and charisma, which made it incredibly difficult to resist you.

 Earlier in the bathroom, he didn’t know if you’d opened the door so widely on purpose or if it was unintentional. He’d imagined pushing you back until your ass collided with the sink, then he imagined hoisting you up and kicking apart your thighs. He’d wanted to push those skimpy bikini bottoms to the side so badly. He’d suppressed the urge, but the sight of you in his shirt didn’t help matters. You looked like his. As he approached the crowd at the shore, he decided he’d claim it because possession was nine-tenths of the law, after all.

 “Oh my god, it’s beautiful,” you said with a gasp as you gaped at the sky in awe.

 The colors that light up your face had him even more hypnotized with you. The wind blew, and the hem of his shirt lofted enough for him to see the almost thong cut of the bikini bottoms you wore, and he moved before he even thought not to. He rested his hand at your pelvis and waited. It took a few seconds, but you placed yours over his and made a swirling “s” along his skin toward his forearm.

 “Fuck,” he whispered.

 The hushed word brought the eyes of Scott and Tara. They both looked at him quizzically, silently asking him what was wrong. That was all it took for him to remember his promise to Scott. When Scott looked away, Tara’s eyes remained on him. They seemed to be sorting through his layers until they found what they wanted. She lifted her hand and tapped his temple, then turned back to the fireworks. Fuck, he thought.

 No matter how badly he wanted you, he couldn’t have you. The facts were simple—you weren’t his. You can’t possess that which isn’t yours and that which does not want to be possessed. Softly he sighed and lowered his hand from your body. You didn’t let it fall, though. Instead, you hooked your fingers with his and held him. His eyes lowered to your entwined fingers, and he hesitated for longer than he should have. When he glanced back up, your eyes were on him, but your lip clenched between your teeth.

 Another crack of fireworks lit up the sky, but your attention was on him rather than the green in the sky. Every color was your color, he thought, then wondered if these colors would still look good glowing off of your naked body. Recognizing his thoughts, wants, and desires were dangerous, he released your hand the minute you directed your attention to something Scott was saying. You kept your hand out, waiting for him to take it again, but he didn’t. Instead, he took several steps back.

 He stood there debating with himself, going back and forth, telling himself to take your hand, but the second he even moved a muscle, he chastised himself, telling him to resist. This was the process for several agonizing minutes. With his eyes glued to your ass and the skin that taunted him every time the breeze blew, he fought the urges that came over him one by one. When he looked up, he found your eyes on him. You looked so good, as if you were the child of two pure angels. There was an innocence about you that he didn’t understand, and something that radiated off of you that had him coming to one final realization. You deserved better than this. He saw you held our hand out to him, but the only thing he knew he should do was walk away. So, he backed away, all the while staring into your eyes. The confusion he found there, he understood. He was confused too. The hurt was what took him by surprise. Unable to stomach it, he turned and walked away from you, the colors and the light you brought.

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

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[arkt-nehrim-archive]

                         A Story in Spring : Renewal {1/3} 

"I have a proposition for you."

The walls of the fallen seraph's humble hut had so far been something of a passive comfort, yet Lithirill found no sense of ease.  Her host, and fellow Tel'lmaltath could certainly tell, eyeing her with some hint of concern, slowly rising to his full height, turning to face her once the fire had suitably caught. "Go on."

The encouraging mannerism was commonplace in their interactions thus far, but it didn't do much to make her desirous of speaking her mind, as images played in her head of all she had been plotting in secret, only thinking to bring the matter to him when she -knew- beyond a doubt she could -achieve- her goals. "It is a...personal matter, to you specifically.  I hesitate to even ask, truthfully." At that notion, her company raised  a sculpted brow. How he might've read her words differed from what she seemed to mean by her body language; a normally stood straight, confident woman now half hunched and barely maintaining eye contact.  He simply watched, resting a hand along his hip. It was the only prompt to continue she was going to get. "...Right.  -Arkt-.  I will speak plainly." even then she hesitated, a sigh accompanying an expression of complete honesty, "...I want to reconstruct your wings. I would see you fly again."  

There weren't many things reality could offer him that still surprised, but that had done it, the gentle carefulness in her tone most of all. It wasn't just an offer, but a plea. Arkt's gaze fell to his floorboards, called back to the moment she had seen the tattered remnants, and the conversation that followed where he learned much and more about the individual he chose to champion. Her perseverance in the face of impossible odds had ensured his second chance at freedom from past mistakes, yet here she was still giving. It was not debt fueling her either, but desire, leading him to a thought forgotten sensation; confoundment.

Lithirill only fidgeted in the quiet, narrowing her eyes in passive calculation, half braced for some kind of impact. It took him some several moments to recover, clearing his throat. The ever-present ache at his back he'd still struggled with flared up. Even to this day, the injury pained him, centuries "dead" had been his only reprieve.

"You are firmly familiar with the reasons I lost them in the first place..." he began, watching his company instinctively tense, ready for rejection; instead he would give her a question, "Knowing that, I must ask -why-? To what end would you go to such efforts?" Asked with genuine curiosity, over any manner of accusation; he suspected her of nothing.

Lithirill nodded, crossing her arms and easing her weight onto one leg. "History was one among a few reasons I have debated asking. As for why, well. I feel there are certain wrongs afflicted to those I’ve come to care for, and it is within my power to unravel those wrongs.”

Arkt watched her carefully crafted mask slipping, the woman ever at odds with herself. He wondered if there would ever be a time where she did not engage in the practice, and simply felt at home in his company.

"As you did with Arantheal?"  he questioned, curious to see if he could keep her at that boundary.

Lithirill puzzled over the question for a moment, pondering if it was harmless comparison or an accusation. Foolish to think it the latter, knowing Arkt had no history of resisting her intent.

"...Yes. As I did -for- Narathzul." She corrected, offering a sideways nod and a shrug, "Know I don't need an answer -today-. I only wanted you to know that the idea lingered in mind long enough to...plan for.”

Ultimately, Arkt was touched. Shock still kept a whirlwind of emotions at bay at the mere hint of taking to the skies again, permitting the warmth of the smile behind his veil to only grow as he watched her. She was not having so easy a time, clearly having wrestled with herself on the matter for awhile.

"Is this what has kept you from your usual visits of late?" he wondered, gesturing with a hand in a motion pushing down from his midsection;  'Relax.' he said silently.

Her eyes followed his hand, flicking up to his face like the lash of a serpent's tongue before she took in a breath and let it out, chuckling to herself.  

"In part. Alongside the politicking and the visits somewhere warmer. Thoughts?"

He sighed through his nose as he partly answered with the considering tilt of his head and a prolonged shutting of his eyes, continuing to chew on the notion.

"Too many to rightly voice in a manner composed or remotely understandable. Would you mind returning to Castle Darlan for the moment? I'll have an answer for you come the evening."

"Of course.~"

The professional manner in which she pulled herself together and turned from him showed a wall climbing between them that he had no patience for, the old seraph chuckling when she moved to open the door.

"Lithirill."  

She twitched, shoulders bunching as her fingers fumbled at the doorknob, before she straightened again and smiled a familiar, shy curve over her shoulder. Her eyes lit up a touch when she saw he’d pulled down his veil.

"Yes?"  

"...Thank you."  he spoke, genuine appreciation clear in his expression.

A hint of color, and the wall scattered; his only goal in the moment. She departed with an amused, "See you soon.", quickly on her way.

                                                   ~~~ As promised, Arkt had arrived that evening, uncharacteristically anxious, but Lithirill could hardly blame him. She could not imagine the weight of what her offer truly meant to him.

In times long gone, the loss of his wings, however deeply traumatic, had served a purpose; symbols had power, as much in their creation as their destruction and his fall signaled the end of an era where the Lightborn could rule without fear of repercussion. Yet now that all his battles were over, and this new life lay before him...

It was not long before the old seraph was waxing poetic, teetering back and forth in his words, as was his way. He all but danced between every sentence- whilst Lithirill only offered more wine when his glass neared empty. She refused to rush him in coming to a decision, simply enjoying his company, equal parts devilishly curious and genuinely empathetic.

Such camaraderie came to it's end at the dawn of the following day, Arkt admitting in the quiet of the morning fog that he accepted her offer; even with her many warnings of risk and pain, he had seen firsthand what she was capable of; he knew he was in good hands, even if a fair few of her achievements were with his shadowed aid.

Two weeks had passed since he agreed to her offer, wasting no time in getting started. The first bout had been the hardest thus far- having not yet known just how -much- it took to render a seraph numb, and having the unfortunate task of plucking the feathers he still had. A meticulous, painful, unexpectedly bloody process...but it was safer to start with a clean slate than try to rebuild all that was under them when half the limb had been shorn down to bare bone.

Trippling the dosages from there made things much easier, at least for Arkt. His struggle was not with pain in the familiar sense now, it came instead from a nameless sensation;  the agonizingly slow return of what should never be, able to sense every -tiny- thread of what was lost reconnect. It was as torturous as it was euphoric, and it could only be overcome by sheer force of will.

Tonight would be no different. Lithirill had learned his tells after a few sessions. When in the throes of her spell work, she could spare little attention for observance, but awareness returned as she dialed back, murmuring gentle nothings mostly for her own comfort; though it signaled to Arkt he could stop taking such measured breaths.

The touch of the Sea crept away like the retreating tide, Arkt opening hazy eyes, idly stretching his fingers.  He knew well enough not to move until his companion told him to do so, watching her over his shoulder. There was a slight notion of fear that kept him from immediately looking upon his wings, naked and ghastly as they were. He only had eyes for Lithirill's face, noting the knitted brow and how she clicked her tongue when observing progress, pondering how to proceed.

"I'd hoped to have had bone completely covered by now..." she lamented, drawing again the magicked circles that held his wings in subtle regeneration between sessions, "I've underestimated how deeply the burns go. I should’ve-”

"You need not fret, Lithirill."  Arkt spoke up, a look of assurance crossing fair features, "This shall take as long as it will take, and you have plenty to grapple with without adding the unnecessary elements of haste and worry.~"

"...Perhaps. Still, I don't savor putting you through further pain I could have avoided." she spoke idly, glad he could not feel it as she undid the slings above, gently moving the humble beginnings to rest on cushions whilst she worked tension from developing musculature.

"We went into this knowing it would be difficult. We will endure." he replied, his tone as much an attempt to comfort as it was a statement of fact; she was far too deep in it now to safely -stop-.  "Which for you to manage, requires heady use of those flasks behind you, as I recall."

It was a gentle, but earnest jab to not neglect her own health whilst taking care of him. She might have been Tel'lmaltath, but healing at -this- level for such prolonged bouts tested the limits of even legendary resolves, and Arkt did not fancy the idea of a Shadow God turned Oorbaya.

Satisfied with her ministrations, she sighed and nodded, letting her hand trail down his back as she turned and gingerly stepped away to pluck a flask of Ambrosia from a stockpile. The edges of a smirk tugged at his lips as she made a show of drinking half the vial like it didn't taste awful, raising both brows at him in a silent 'satisfied?'.

"...-Thank- you." he muttered, humming a chuckle, "Do not lose sight of your own well being in concern for me. I must stress, we have nothing but time."

Lithirill tilted her head at him as her eyelids drooped, well accustomed now to the odd heated popping in her ears as the Ambrosia did its work, blanketing the red pressure in her head and quieting the skittering under her skin.

"-Now- whose fretting?" she teased, setting down the flask so she could help him to stand, not letting his wings droop as she supported them from the base, "I don't intend to go hurrying into the arms of the Blue Death, I promise. Come now.~"

Twas a short jaunt to the spare bedroom within her personal quarters, Arkt leading the way and Lithirill matching his steps. The seraph counted his blessings that his pride could not be so easily wounded as she settled his wings into yet another set of slings, these ones arranged to allow them to safely hang whilst he rested. He knew -she- worried about such mental troubles, but he was far too old and that much more taken by fascination in all she insisted upon doing for him to care for foolish things like shame.

"Tell me something, Lithirill." he said, eyes on her as she arranged the vials that would help him sleep, and come the morn, ease his pain,  "What do you suppose I'm meant to do in return for all of this?"  

The question was laced with an undertone of playfulness that reminded her of when the seraph had taken an almost catty tone in Arktwend, all but making -gossip- of the infatuation between those who'd brought Narathzul into the world. She could only raise a brow at him in plain curiosity, willfully stepping into whatever trap this might have been.

"That is hardly a matter to burden the likely recipient, don't you think?  Or am I -supposed- to be reading between some manner of line here?" The teasingly scrutinizing gaze she leveled upon him was nothing to the coy look he gave her beneath the messy strands of his hair, the two locked in a quiet contest before she relented; as she always did where he was concerned. "...ponder and plot all you like, my friend. But hold to that patience you've assured me with. I would say it is early yet to be planning anything more than recovery."  she offered.

Arkt sighed through his nose at that, uncapping the cork to her sleeping drought and drinking it down with a quick chaser of water. Her answer was as good as any. Ponder and plot indeed then.

"Fair enough. Rest well, when you find it."  he bid gently, offering only a smile. For a would be God according to most's definition, who had seen millennia pass and returned even from -death-, he seemed to be handling the life of a crippled patient quite well.

Lithirill could only take that profound patience and trust in her ability to heart; ensure no matter her doubts that she'd finish the job.

She returned the evening farewell and meandered to her own bed, falling upon it like a stone. All too swiftly would the sun rise, and the pair would be again until their great task of renewal was complete.   Lithirill could only hope she'd be done by Spring.

                                                   ~Fin~

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Day 1: “You took all the pillows so i’m using you as one.”

It is herrrreee!!! I hope you enjoy and let me know all your thoughts.

Non-descript, non-canon-compliant AU

Jason Grace smiles as he ends the call with his sister, promising her he’ll call before she gets on her flight to another obscure place. One would think after an entire year of living, mostly, alone she wouldn’t be so worried, yet each time she goes off she has to send him a hundred messages and call him a hundred more times to make sure he’s okay. The day is dawning bright and chilly and he has every intention of snuggling up in his bed with a good book and copious amounts of hot cocoa. University has finally shut down for winter which means he has absolutely nothing to do. It is pure bliss.

He hops onto the counter, scrolling through his phone while the kettle boils. His instagram is filled with people in various tropical places, or places much colder than his little London apartment. Snow and skis, and beaches and cocktails scatter across his feed and he is equal parts jealous and excited. The kettle clicks and he sets to making his chocolatey drink, adding an obscene amount of marshmallows and some extra chocolate chips just for fun. Might as well indulge. Tomorrow he would have to make an effort to dress in something more than a ratty t-shirt and fading boxers, and interact with other people. The few of them that are still here are planning a holiday movie night complete with blanket forts and popcorn and terrible romance plots. But today, with the sky grey and weeping gently, and the world as quiet as he’s ever heard it he can just be unexciting, unworried Jason.

He launches himself onto the bed, after carefully placing his mug on the side table and snuggles deep into his duvets, sighing contentedly. There is almost nothing that could make this better. Except one person. But he has no energy to dwell on that. Because that person is gone to Montauk with their family and even if they weren’t they wouldn’t be here with him.  He shakes the thoughts from his head and opens his book, ready to get lost in a world far away from this one. But just as he starts reading, a knock sounds at his door. Every bone in his body groans, like the worst thing that could have happened to them has just occurred. He agrees wholly and debates ignoring the unexpected visitor. But then he thinks about his elderly neighbour who’s always losing her keys or needing help with something on the top shelf and he sighs as he resigns himself to getting up. His book, and heart, cry when he tumbles out of bed and slips his feet into fluffy pink slippers. The knocking sounds again and he all but rolls his eyes, before flinging open the door.

As he expects Mrs Tremblay is on the other side, a kind smile on her face. “Hello Jason dear,”

“Hello Mrs Tremblay, how are you?”

“Oh just peachy dear. My wife isn’t home yet and I can't seem to locate the butter. Would you mind coming to have a look. I am sorry to be a bother on such a day that requires everything but bothering.”

He holds in a snort and closes his door behind him, “No worries ma’am. I’m happy to help.”

“Yes, well you’re very kind dear. The last tenant who lived there was a rowdy unfriendly man who smelled disgustingly of bleach and cigarette smoke.” Her nose scunches so that the wrinkles in her face deepen considerably.

He doesn’t give a response, mostly because he doesn’t really know how to reply, so instead he ushers her into her apartment and makes his way to the kitchen. After a quick squiz in the fridge he sees the butter all the way at the back of the top shelf. Getting it out, he places it on the counter with a smile.

“Here you are Mrs Tremblay.”

“Oh you are a darling! I’ll be sure to save some snickerdoodles for you.” She claps her hands, already pulling her apron over her head.

“Is there anything else you need me to help with?”

“That’s alright dear.” Distracted with her scale she waves his question away, “You’ll see yourself out, won't you?”

“Sure ma’am, have a good day.” He waves. She doesn't catch it. “Say hi to Precious for me.”

“Bye now.” Is her distant reply before she’s scaling chunks of butter and losing herself to her baking.

With a huffed laugh he escapes back to his own apartment and settles into his bed once more. This time he does get swooped into his book, travelling over mountains and sleeping in rocky valleys. Every word produces a new kind of feeling, like he is a well of all the most wonderful emotions. Sometime later, and a good portion of the book gone, he drains the last of his now-cold cocoa and decides it’s time for a bathroom break. As he finishes up another knock sounds at his door. Must be Mrs Tremblay with the cookies she’d promised.

He jogs to the door, pulling a hoodie over his head, as the wind seeps in through the cracked windows. He opens the door and the hood flops over his face.

“Mrs Tremblay, the snickers finished already?” He fiddles with the fabric and pushes his now messy hair out of his eyes.

“Uh- I did not bring cookies?” A voice that Jason hears in his dreams washes over him.

He freezes, blue eyes as wide as planets, as he takes in who stands at his front door. “You’re not Mrs Tremblay.” He blurts out.

A twinkle enters those emerald eyes, a smirk slowly takes over that beautiful, angular face. “I am not. As far as I know i’m still Percy Jackson.”

“Yes you are.” He replies breathlessly, and then cringes so hard he sees black dancing in his vision. That smirk only grows wider. “Please come in.”

“Thanks. It’s freezing out there. I’m sure all the nerves in my fingers have burned to nothing.”

“What are you doing here? I thought you were in Montauk? Is everything okay with your family? With you? Here let me take your jacket.” He eases the dark denim from his friend’s hands and slings it over the chair in their little dining room.

Percy laughs at all his questions, "Everything is fine with everyone. Paul has family in Brighton, and I asked mom if I could visit you while we’re here.”

“Oh.”

That twinkle only brightens as they make their way to his room. “Yes oh.” He winks, and then sobers as he takes in the rumpled sheets on Jason’s bed. “Am I interrupting something? I can totally come back another day. We’re here for two weeks so…”

The blonde’s cheeks go crimson as he realises what his friend thought was going on. “No, no, no. I was just reading. I’ve been in bed, uh, all day.”

Percy’s eyebrows touch his hairline in surprise. “You? You’ve been in bed all day?”

He blushes harder but nods all the same. “It’s cold and I have a book. I finally have the time to read.”

A brown hand reaches up to touch his forehead, “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? The Jason Grace I know would have had his morning run, started on assignments due in two months time and volunteered to go grocery shopping for all his neighbours.”

He makes a face, shoving the black-haired boy, “I’m not such a goody-two-shoes.”

A laugh as pretty and devastating as the ocean echoes through his body. “Alright Jase,” He collapses onto the bed, waggling his dark eyebrows. “If you say so.”

“I do say so.”

That laugh catches between his butterflies and the whole world slows down. He stares at his friend, who looks so completely at home that his heart clenches a little. Black hair a stark contrast against his white covers, and earth brown skin glowing under the yellow light above their heads. He takes a deep breath in.

“Do you want to finish your book and then we can talk?” Percy asks, eyes still stuck on the ceiling, tracing the constellation of stars stuck up there.

And with that question Jason melts into the floor and thanks the powers that be that he has found home.

“If you don’t mind?” He moves to lie on the bed, already snatching up the book and paging through it to find his way.

Percy scoffs, “Of course i don’t mind.” He shuffles, eyes darting around before a gleam enters them. He promptly moves further up, and places his head on Jason’s stomach.

“What- what are you doing?”

“You took all the pillows so i’m using you as one.”

And indeed the two pillows that are usually on the bed are shoved behind his back, for the extra comfort. “Oh, uh, okay.”

“Are you uncomfortable? Should I move somewhere else?”

“No, no!” He cries, ‘I’m fine.” Even though his heart is beating a hundred miles a minute and the butterflies in his stomach had been released into a zoo.

A beautiful smile takes over Percy’s face as he settles into his pillow and closes his eyes. Jason reminds himself to breathe, as he stares at the serene face right under his nose.

“Are you going to keep staring at me or actually read Grace?” His friend’s lips twitch but those ocean eyes stay closed.

“Shut up.” He grumbles, wondering how he knew.

“Make me.”

His golden cheeks go bright red, again, and he is grateful the black-haired boy is still closed to the world. Finally his heart calms enough, and his mind goes quiet and he can get lost in his book. Percy’s soft, unhurried breathing deepens as he drifts to sleep, and Jason follows not long after. They are content. They are peaceful. They are happy.

They wake up as they had gone to sleep: Percy’s head resting against his stomach, and him propped up on pillows. Jason’s eyes open first and after he glances out the window to see the grey sky darkening he takes the quiet moment to stare, unobstructed at the boy before him. Long eyelashes brush sharp cheekbones, and a strong nose, slightly skewed from being broken one too many times, twitches. He really is one of the most beautiful people.

“Are you still staring at me?” A raspy, playful voice rings out.

The blonde about has a heart attack right there. “You’re awake?”

“Just barely.” He groans, pulling himself up, and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Jason almost groans at the loss of contact but stifles it under a laugh. “You wanna make some cocoa and we can tell each other secrets?”

“I only have one secret,” Percy winks, hauling himself off the bed and holding out a hand for him.

He takes it, but is unprepared to be launched halfway to the sun, or to topple into a hard chest. The black-haired boy catches him before they fall to the floor, and every nerve in his body narrows to the warm hands on his hips.

“What’s your secret?” He whispers.

“Take a wild guess.”

He narrows his eyes, racking his brain for any ideas, but every thought is discarded because all of them involve something he knows is impossible.

“Got nothing?” He grins.

“Not a clue.” Disappointment floods through him fast and sharp.

“My mother secretly calls me pineapples.” His friend mutters and in the second it takes him to process the words the black-haired boy is already shaking. His forehead presses into the blonde’s shoulder as he laughs and he can’t help but join in; the absurdity of the statement breaks his confusion, and disappointment.

Finally they sober up and Percy, whose hands are still on him, stares directly into his eyes. “I lied. I have one more secret.”

“Oh?”

And then Percy Jackson smiles as bright as the stars and kisses Jason Grace. What a lovely secret indeed.

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

Tags:

@nishlicious-01​

[toovirgins]

September, 1965

Summary: During a press interview to promote Help!, an interviewer makes his feelings for Paul quite obvious. Some parties aren't too happy about it.

“Now, I’m sure the four of you have been celebrating upon the release of your new film, Help! which recently came out here in the U.K. just over a month ago. I wanted to speak with you all about the film, the process, and the potential impact it could have. Now, the reviews have been generally strong, but many are claiming that despite its substantially more extensive budget, it falls a bit short of last year’s A Hard Day’s Night. Would you mind sharing your feelings on those claims?”

“Well, I’d hate to take this question on account of I haven’t seen either film,” came John’s reply first, drawing a thrum of laughter from the audience.

The interviewer (whose name Paul had already forgotten) spoke through a toothy grin, laughter bright on his lips. “You haven’t seen the films, John?”

A playful smile tugged at John’s lips, contradicting his deadpan reply. “Haven’t gotten around to it, no. Been busy filming some things.”

Another round of laughter. Paul felt a grin rise to his own face, knowing that John had good and well seen the films, and had rather liked them. He always found it intriguing to watch the show that John put on for the public eye.

“What about you, Paul? How do you feel about them?”

Paul tore his gaze away from his friend and flashed a bright smile at the interviewer. “Oh, I don’t mind about them. It was good fun to make them, yeah.”

“Do you feel like they captured your personalities quite well?”

“I’d say, relatively so.” The answer came from George this time, who began interlocking his fingers around his crossed knee. “You know, the films are full of us really just playing around and having a game of it, even with the more structured plots. Filming Help! was good fun, indeed.”

“We lot are a big fan of playing around,” Ringo added helpfully.

“Now Ringo, you’re more or less the star of this new film—if we can discount The Exciting Adventure of Paul on the Floor, of course. Was there any unwanted pressure there?”

Paul felt his cheeks redden at the mention of his slightly racy scene. He had already been uncomfortable with it, and the fact that it was receiving so much publicity frankly embarrassed him. He silently cursed John, the bastard, for his stupid ideas and his stupid way of making Paul go along with them. He caught John’s eye, who hastily looked away, suppressing the teasing grin that twitched at the corner of his mouth.

“—nothing at all, really,” Ringo was saying with a shrug. “I suppose it was a bit more work, as last film I got to wander about while they filmed me for a while and this one I had real big scenes of human sacrifice and whatnot. But no, I never thought about it as being stressful or more pressure.”

“Well, that’s wonderful, Ringo, thank you. Now, I’d like to circle back to something mentioned a bit earlier. Let’s cut to the chase: Paul, that scene. I’d like to know how much was really going on under that wrapper.”

A blush crept up his neck and he absentmindedly reached up to scratch his cheek. He forced himself to smile bashfully, subconsciously crossing his legs at the knee. “Well, y-you know…” He trailed off, not wanting to explicitly answer but framing the sentence in such a way that it was still suggestive.

“Aw,” the reporter gushed, flashing him a wink. “Don’t be shy now, Paul. I’m sure the viewers are dying to know as well.” The crowd hummed in agreement.

Before Paul could open his mouth, John shot a quick reply. “Now, I feel a bit hurt that no one has wanted to ask me that question.” He turned to face the camera. “I, John Winston Lennon, confirm on Universal Broadcast Television that in that scene I was wearing absolutely nothing underneath my clothing and undergarments.” He feigned a gasp, then exaggerated a grandiose curtsy as he momentarily raised himself out of his armchair. This raised another collective laugh. John was an easy fan favourite.

Paul suppressed feelings of gratitude. He giggled at the prospect of John confessing that to a real universally-broadcasted program, which, for now (fortunately, unfortunately?), was a thing of the future.

The interviewer waited for the laughter and scattered applause to subside before he continued. “Thank you for that shocking revelation, John. Though I’m not quite sure that answered our question…” The suggestion trailed off, and Paul realized that it was meant for him to answer. He was busy watching John after accidentally catching a flash of something in his expression, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Paul put on his best puppy-dog pouty face and blinked up at the interviewer through his lashes. “I suppose,” he started, intentionally producing a voice thick and coy, “there wasn’t much going on at all.” His mind barely registered that John was now tapping is foot anxiously, a habit that arose only when the man was incredibly agitated or stressed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw George place an inquisitive hand on John’s, hidden enough from the cameras for him to subtly ask if his friend was all right. John gave a curt and almost unnoticeable nod, his eyes darting from George back to the interviewer. Though unsatisfied with the confirmation, George let his hand apprehensively fall back into his own lap.

Paul noticed every one of these ministrations between them, feeling his heart warm at the thought. He knew no one else, not even crazed fans, would pick up on the subtle movements. The four were just that close, having an entire language of their own, able to communicate without even making eye contact. It felt nice, performing a television interview with over half the country watching and knowing that there were still things they had for themselves. Still, despite his musings, worry seeped into his mind as the significance of the interaction hit him. Was John all right? Paul tried to beckon John’s gaze with his own, but his friend simply started at the ground where his foot was beginning to pose quite the distraction.

The interviewer let out a bright laugh and leaned closer to Paul, if unintentionally. “Well, I’m sure our viewers won’t be able to get that image out of their heads tonight. I know I won’t be able to.”

Paul flashed an amused grin at the insinuation, watching in his peripheral as John crossed his ankles to stop his shoe from tapping, his lips pressed into a tight, thin line. A flash of annoyance struck in Paul’s chest. What could John possibly be upset about? Didn’t he realize that they were on live television? What did he have such an… an attitude for? He still wouldn’t meet his stare.

“Now, I’d like to touch upon the impact of this film,” the interviewer was continuing. “An article in The Daily Mail characterized Help! as a pioneer in the genre of musical comedies, especially with its Technicolor production, magical realism, and rather organic integration of musical influence into the plot. George, do you think that this film is going to be as historically impactful as some are proclaiming?”

“Well, er… I wouldn’t say so, only because I can’t quite know what impact it could have, as I’m not so much involved in the world of cinema. Personally, I felt as if our previous film made no industrial impact, so it’s a bit difficult to foresee this one going in a different direction. It's just fun.”

“Wonderful insight, George,” the reporter praised. “I’ll be interested to see which one of us is correct.” He flashed a wink, causing George to chuckle and respond with a bemused, “Yes, we’ll see.”

“John, I’d be interested to see where your thoughts stand on the matter. Personally, I could see you continuing with an acting, or perhaps directing, career far beyond the musical films. Do you dabble in the world of art cinema at all?”

“I suppose.”

“You suppose?” The interviewer looked a bit thrown by the curt response.

“That’s all there is to it, really.”

Paul didn’t think much of John’s acting skills tonight. Whatever was bothering the man was now evident for every eye to see, a change in his demeanor so drastic that Paul almost felt a chill come over the room. What the hell was going on with him?

The interviewer chuckled nervously and switched subjects. “All right, I’d like to shift a bit and discuss some more of the actual content of the film. Now, the scene in the bathroom—how did you all manage that?”

Ringo broke into a wide grin, and Paul matched his energy at the memory. “Well,” Ringo started, “We had to have our clothing stitched apart just enough to where it would hold on for the beginning of the scene, but easily tear off. Like in Paul’s shirt sleeve, they had sewn a bit of fishing wire into the cuff and snaked it through the dryer opening, so when they gave a tug the whole sleeve came flying off at the shoulder.” Paul nodded for emphasis as Ringo demonstrated then, reaching for the cuff of his shirtsleeve and pulling at it.

“Oh,” the reporter mused, “and here I was hoping it would take a lot more with it.” He flashed Paul another charismatic grin.

Paul had almost—almost—missed the slight eye roll that John gave as he began to chew at his thumb nail, another nervous habit he had picked up. Paul’s heart jumped a bit at the sight, followed by a pull of confusion in his stomach. Another look flashed in John’s eyes, longer this time. It looked like… anger. Paul was almost certain he had identified it when the look passed, and a sudden calm came over John as he regained his composure.

“Well that makes a pair of us, then, doesn’t it, mate?”

Paul froze. The words were light, but there was nothing friendly about the sentence that John had just spat out—the tone was salacious and determined, leaving no room for misinterpretation. His eyes glinted in a frightening mixture of malice and amusement as an awkward silence settled over the 5 players. George shifted uncomfortably and Ringo eyed the blinking red dot across the room.

Fuck, Paul thought to himself. They were live.

It had only been about five seconds, but they ticked away at what felt like a painfully slow rate. Paul’s internal clock supplied each passing numeric as the interviewer opened and closed his mouth a few times before speaking once more. Someone in the audience coughed.

“All right, well, erm—it has been a pleasure hosting you boys on the show, and I wish you the utmost of luck on the film’s continuing success and your further aspirations with the band.”

George murmured a light, “Very well, thanks.” Ringo nodded with an, “All right, Louis, all the best.” John said nothing. Paul said nothing.

Louis. That was his name.

The red light ceased blinking across the room. The interviewer got up stiffly and stalked off, bewildered at the surprise ending of the televised event. George and Ringo quickly rose to their feet and muttered a quick, “goingtothedressingroom,” scurrying off.

Paul suddenly felt furious with John, a white-hot rage efflorescing in his chest. The attitude, the behaviour on live television and in front of a live audience, the lack of self-control—Paul bit back an outburst in response, willing himself not to create yet another scene. Not to mention the whole issue of what John had actually said, and what on earth had pushed him to do so. “We need to talk.”

John shrugged indifferently, letting Paul grab his wrist roughly and drag him away from the armchair. Paul made a break for the nearest hallway, desperately wanting to escape what felt like millions of nosy and inquisitive stares, pulling John behind him. Eventually, he tried the knob to a utility closet, and the door gave way as Paul shoved John inside. He could no longer contain his baffled anger as he slammed the door behind them.

It was dark in the closet save a sliver of blue moonlight that creeped through the small square window. The light bathed John in an angelic glow in front of him, and Paul wasn’t sure if it was the shadows playing tricks on him or if John actually looked sorry. Paul’s chest was rising and falling rapidly, but John’s was steady, near unmoving. The man was incredibly quiet and still as he waited for Paul to speak first.

“What the fuck was that?” He hissed.

John looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. “What?”

“What do you mean, ‘What?’, Lennon? Y-you acted like a twat. On live television. What were you so twisted up about, anyway? You couldn’t have just held it in? The interview was like five fucking minutes. Why couldn’t you do that? For m–” Paul stopped himself. He suddenly felt stupid. For me, he wanted to say. John knew how important Paul thought their public perception was. John knew how anxious Paul got before interviews, desperation and fear of saying the wrong thing crowding his thoughts. John knew all of that stuff and had still gone and mucked it up, perhaps even intentionally.

“I didn’t like the way he was talking with you,” John said quietly. “I—it was for you.”

A hand came up to pinch the bridge of Paul’s nose. He sighed as he rubbed at his eyes, a frustrated perplexity tugging at his features. He was embarrassed more than anything. Embarrassed at the forwardness of the interviewer, embarrassed at the scenes of himself in the movie, embarrassed at his reaction to what was probably just John taking up for him. He shook his head.

“I don’t get it, John. Help me understand why you would say that, why you would say it like that—"

“It was, Paul.” John’s voice cut him off, insistent now, and he stepped closer to Paul against the door. It took him a moment to realize that John was still talking about his intent. There was something rather odd in his gaze now, something almost… needy?

The pair were now only inches away from each other. Paul felt his nerves singing as he took in the sight of his best friend. A twitch in his chest told him that something had changed in the shared space between them. John’s eyes were half-lidded, and not in the vision-starved squint that was familiar, the deep amber bearing down on him with a heated look. Paul gazed at the way the man’s lower lashes rested on his cheeks, which were flushed slightly, pink like the wet bottom lip he had nervously caught between his teeth. John’s soft brown locks fell against his forehead, brushing his eyebrows, and Paul felt the sudden urge to reach up and tangle his fingers in it.

Why had he never noticed how beautiful John was before?

There wasn’t a good reason for what happened next. Maybe it was the moment of emotional vulnerability. Maybe it was their proximity. Maybe it was the tension. Maybe it was the way that Paul came to the sudden realization that John hadn’t been angry before, but jealous.

Paul tilted his chin down and kissed him.

[kitsbookshelf]

The Twilight Saga: a detailed review of why I can’t stand them and love them in (almost) equal measure

Before I start this borderline scathing review, I just want to let you know that it's full of spoilers, so if you haven't read the books, look away now. This is your only warning.

Now that that's out of the way... I can't stand the Twilight saga. Twelve-year-old me is cringing at my hatred for it, and Twilight fans are waiting to set me on fire, but it's true. I think they're poorly written, and there are soooo many parts of every book that just...missed the mark, at least for me. Let's start at the beginning, with the first book: Twilight.

Bella, our darling main character, moves in with her dad, Charlie (let's take a moment to appreciate perhaps the only normal, mentally stable person in this entire saga), in the rainy small town of Forks, Washington.

Bella is quite a bland character, but that just makes her easier to project yourself onto when you're reading the book if that's how you immerse yourself. For me, I found her obsessive and definitely not emotionally stable, and it did honestly feel like reading the diary of a manic and very unstable 17-year-old. On one hand, that's good--I'm reading from Bella's perspective, and it's written exactly how I'd expect her to write--but on the other hand, the writing feels...cheap? I completely blame my own taste in writing style for my opinion on this one, but I just couldn't enjoy the very boring storytelling happening here. It was all very 'tell-tell-tell' instead of the 'show-tell-show' way of writing I prefer.

Now here is where my adoration for this book comes in: Edward Cullen. Specifically, the interactions between him and Bella. They have conversations, and banter, and it's a fun little human-vampire-friendship that isn't awful to read (I will never never forgive the films for leaving some of the dialogue out, it's pure gold and possibly the only saving grace of this book). The characters felt like teenagers here, but it was only for the few short pages we got of them interacting without the overly-exaggerated brooding that our sweet Ed is known for.

The romance between Bella and Edward is...concerning. For me, I couldn't find a single bit of actual romance between the two of them beyond Bella's obsession with him and Edward's bloodlust and weird self-control thing he has for her. It felt really unhealthy, and I couldn't wrap my head around how people actually think there's romance there.

The whole James thing...I don't know about anyone else, but it felt really random. Yes, it added a conflict to the book, but I felt like there wasn't really any good development to make it more relevant. That all seemed to happen later with Victoria, but James didn't really feel like he fit into the story very well. I think I would have preferred it if he was gradually brought in through the book, or if there was some sort of lead up to the conflict instead of just--WHAM! Tracker dude wants to kill Bella because Edward got protective and now only the final section of the book has any action.

Twilight completely had the potential to be a good vampire-human romance novel. There was no real need for the James-Victoria storyline, even in the later books. What did they add? Only the entirety of Eclipse, but that book could be taken out completely without disrupting the story all that much.

New Moon feels like a completely different book, and I actually really liked it. The writing style still got on my nerves and made it more difficult for me to enjoy the book, but the content was so much better.

Bella's spiral in New Moon really added something to her character. Instead of another book of her constant Edward-Cullen-is-the-most-beautiful-man-to-ever-exist inner monologue, we got a whole book of her.

Jacob Black was introduced, and he was a genuinely likable character (the one thing I will say is that his inability to take 'no' for an answer really did put me off him for a large portion of the book and the next one) who brought some more normality into the book. It didn't feel like I was reading an overly-exaggerated supernatural romance, and I enjoyed it. The banter between the two of them was so realistic, and I actually really loved how Meyer explored Bella's coping mechanisms and her dependency issues when Jacob phased and Bella was left without him again.

The conflict here was much more well-executed than in Twilight, with the Volturi having been mentioned before and now becoming established properly in the saga. They're the perfect villains, and I enjoyed reading about them much more than I enjoyed the rushed few chapters of James's story in Twilight. I loved how Meyer kept Bella awake the entire way home from Italy. You really got to see the sort of wild relief that she felt when getting Edward back, and I think it was well-written and made me feel like there was slightly more going on here than the forced romance in Twilight.

I really do feel like the subject of them being mates should have come up a lot sooner. Maybe some questions on how a human could be a vampire's mate, or exploring the complications of it, because then maybe Bella's obsession would have been far more understandable earlier in the saga, and it might have felt more 'organic' than the relationship I read until Bella became a newborn later on.

And now we reach Eclipse... Eclipse, Eclipse, Eclipse... I hate it. There isn't a single part of this book that I can honestly say I enjoyed. I felt like it could have been taken out completely, and it wouldn't have made a difference to the story.

The whole book felt like a filler, purely there to resolve the issue of Victoria before moving on to Bella's pregnancy and vampirism in Breaking Dawn. It didn't feel like any part of it was important, or really memorable.

Victoria's whole storyline could have been erased without destroying the saga. The only interesting thing about the whole conflict with her was that she managed to orchestrate it without Alice seeing her, and that was the one thing that kept the book rolling on instead of it being a handful of chapters of the newborns being defeated.

The one thing that this book set up was the truce between the werewolves and the vampires, and I definitely think that could have been done in another way if James and Victoria had never existed (if you can't already tell, I really don't see the point to James and Victoria, and they don't add anything to the books except for a tiny, irrelevant bit of drama).I enjoyed how Meyer wrote the love triangle, and how she made Bella love them both. It felt, to me, more realistic that Bella would feel something for Jacob after everything we read in New Moon and how much she cared about him.

Beyond those things, though, this book really did feel completely useless to me, and I couldn't wait to stop reading it and get back to something that felt like it had a decent plot.

Okay, last one (I commend you for surviving this far). Breaking Dawn.

I...didn't hate it, but I didn't love it. I think it's a good conclusion to the saga, and I like how the characters all got a happy ending, but I can't say I think it's amazing or even close.

Bella becoming a mother felt strange and disjointed to the rest of the books--she'd never said she wanted to have a baby, and had even stated that she didn't mind not having a child if it meant being a vampire with Edward. Then suddenly she's pregnant and will let herself die to give birth to the baby? It doesn't fit with what we've read of her character up to this point, and it irked me.

And the baby name...Renesme... Can we take a second to appreciate how stupid that sounds? There were so many other options--honestly, I'd have taken literally any other option--and Bella chose to mash their mothers' names together in the worst possible way. Renesme. Ugh.

Don't even get me started on Jacob imprinting on a baby. The whole thing of imprinting makes perfect sense, but why, why, why did he have to imprint on a baby? A half-vampire baby? Surely his wolf-y instincts would be telling him to get away from her, not throw him right into her tiny little arms and have him fall in love with her. I don't get it, it creeps me out, and that's all I'm going to say about it.

As for everything else... I think it was good, it just sort of felt flat to me. All of the good parts seemed to happen intermittently through the book, scattered between barely tolerable sections and parts that, in my opinion, were shoddy. It made for a difficult book to get through, but the conclusion to the saga was almost worth the trouble.

[joe-maristopher]

«WandaVision»: 6. Send help

When I look at the WV's rating,  I start smirking. Let's say, um, we won't see cuted heads with blood,f looding from the arteries, as well as the violent mating of all the people available for this, and we won't hear bad words, but the eye twitches often Because WV is creepy. Because it can be creepy to see, or because certain parts inside resonate with what is happening, and it becomes very uncomfortable.

As I said in the opinion for the first two episodes — those who have lost someone significant or gone through a traumatic situation have every chance to understand Wanda's feelings. And those individuals, who were so traumatized that at some point they FORGOT a terrible moment, because the human psyche is trying to protect itself, they probably nod.. and I hope these people are okay.

After watching the series... I sat and thought about it... And I got a panic attack. I think. I was personally affected by Wanda's state of mind. Her words about loneliness and emptiness are very clear, because I know what it is, and I really hope not to experience it again, being familiar with the spectrum of this feelings’ combo. It's really horrible feel like you're in a vacuum and you can't breathe.

I'm not surprised (at all that) Monica responded warmly. She also understands Wanda. She's good, no kidding. Once again, can she replace Carol as Captain Marvel? Please! And I want to see her continue to interact with Jimmy and Darcy. A wonderful trio. Humane. I also like how they performed in the episode.

Monica wants to help Wanda, and nothing will stop this woman, even if she needs to climb back into the perimeter.

Jimmy knows when to hit someone, and in general, quickly navigates the situation, calculates and makes a decision. No snot.

Darcy also takes a risk and meets the expansion of Wanda's territory, and before that, she wants to help Vision (hello, panic attack number two), and I would see what would happen if she wasn't stopped

As a bonus for their courage, all three now know that Hayward is plotting something behind their backs, his goal is to kill Wanda and, as a result, get Vision back. Vision's body. Otherwise, why track it? Hayward is an outright asshole, but you know what? He and Zemo would have gotten along. Well-well...

Inhale-exhale, continue.

I.

I will touch on the topic of pseudo-Pietro very quickly, because I said the main thoughts last time and I do not want to repeat and click my teeth like a wilf wolf. I will not repeat the theories as wel;, let the series explain them ITSELF, and I am not made of vibranium to spoil my nerves, but I will write something for the story here.

He behaved throughout the episode as if he intentionally wanted Wanda to detonate (or wake up?). I don't need to be told how he behaved in the comics, I remember this, but it's not a comics issue. No loving brother would provoke a scandal like that. The pseudo-Pietro was DEFINITELY  looking for  pain points, or rather, he was going through them, and then he found it, and Wanda quickly shut him up.

In the dialogues with pseudo-Pietro, we learned more about the childhood of Wanda and Pietro. Poor kids. At the same time, Wanda's and pseudo-

Pseudo-Pietro knows TOO much. Don't you think that's suspicious? I do.

II.

The ad's eerie vibes — I´ll miss those cute bits of subtext when the series end — faded, when the picture of Vision, trying to find out what is going on, came together in pieces. Vision did not forget the quarrel with Wanda, took the moment and decided to clarify something for himself.

The edge of Wanda's perimeter reminded me of one Rick and Morty's episodes. Where Rick, Morty, and Jerry ended up in a simulation, and Jerry ended up there by mistake.  It was decided not to spend all the resources on him, so part of the simulation was lagging, sometimes very funny. Vision isn't in the cartoon, so he got the dark version. I still believe that people suffer not because Wanda's hex are so terrible, but because her pain is broadcasting. Let it  be my personal headcanon. I still don't know how to interpret the scene with Agnes, it also seems suspicious to me, something is wrong with it, but it only strengthened Vision's determination to put everything in its place.

I'll repeat myself. Marvel, what's your problem? What is this kink on Vision's death? How to beat it out of you, tell me already?! Fuck you, this is technically the THIRD death or attempt to kill Vision (it depends on what we see in the future episode), mixed with an allusion to people scattering after Snap. Will you pay psychotherapists for us?

Sorry, but Vision, agonising, Darcy, shocked, trying to help... I don't defy the truth: it was intense, and Vision's dedication is so Vision, but it still sounds in my ears. People with the same level of empathy, I feel very sorry for you if you are also still in a trance. Like me.

But yes, we now know for sure, Vision can't live outside the perimeter. In the comics, if you don't know, Vision also died... a sufficient number of times, there was a moment when he was dead for a very long time (if you heard a creak - it's me,  I gritted my teeth), but one of his advantages is capability of healing/restoring. A Vision from a very distant future, with the frightening, I must say, look, said to present Vision, what is the advantage of synthezoid is: by replacing the organs he can live INDEFINITELY. But what will happen to Vision from MCU, I don't know.

Folks, we are preparing for his long death, or new tortures from Marvel. I don't know, I don't want to think about it. If Vision combines the memory of his past and his present, then he will have an interesting experience, nothing to say.

Darcy is now inside the perimeter, I believe she will explain him everything he must know (if she can) like Hayward's plans, and I HOPE  there will be no silence that could lead to another disaster. And I also hope Vision will not accumulate a conflict that will also be disastrous, but for his relationship with Wanda. And my third hope is this: I hope Vision won't go into " this is all a simulation, I'm dead, do my feelings for Wanda and the kids exist, or have I been made to think that they are exist? Are they artificial?" thing, because this will turn out to be a disaster for everyone. For Vision. For Wanda. For children. For the entire perimeter. For the shippers, after all.

P.S. I see, this is the last episode in sitcome style? P. S. S. Wanda is a sad kitty.

[theworldbrewery]

Plot Build: Unnatural Corruption

This is a plotline built to be adapted to your own campaign or for use as a oneshot. Feel free to change names, NPC races, etc., or adapt by adding or removing enemies, traps, etc. to increase or decrease the difficulty of the adventure. This build assumes a 4-person party at 4th level. 

Want a customized plot build for your party? $15 Ko-Fi supporters can leave a private message with their tumblr or email contact information to request a personalized outline.

One-sentence hook:

Creatures infected with a strange plague are coming out of the Black Ridge Marsh; those who live off the land turn ill and feral, and even the trees themselves--well, they don’t quite wither, but the otherwise barren bark blossoms with bright orange, white-speckled blossoms.

The outline will be available under the cut at the end of the post, just in case your players follow your blog 👉😎👉 (pro-tip: if you’re not a DM or prepping to be one, don’t look!)

Groundwork to lay before the plotline begins:

A message to an ally of the party from a Doctor Amada from Black Ridge Marsh requesting aid for a mysterious and lethal illness.

Report from a neighboring town that a merchant shipment into the marsh was attacked by rabid bears; only one person escaped alive to tell the tale. The townsfolk are too afraid of being killed to retrieve the dead or their possessions.

As the party travels into the marsh, note the way the plants are withering and there are no signs of the usual prey animals except as carrion, overgrown with grey-orange fungus or ripped up by predators.

See the rest of the build below the cut.

Major Locations+NPCs:

Moonglow Tavern & Inn - crooked, ramshackle tavern just on the edge of the village, run by Jantriss Pearbrewer, a halfling sorcerer of the Aberrant Mind. She possesses the orange sunstone gem that controls a large Orange Slaad dwelling within the marsh. See her stats under Encounter 3. Her goal is to create unrest and spread the corrupting touch of the slaad under her control. She is crafty and an excellent liar. She claims that Haymander Stirk, a trapper and woodsman, is to blame, implying that he uses magicked traps to catch game that are contaminating the food.

Doctor Amada’s Apothecary - a canvas-walled building for treating the sick, managed by Doctor Gayle Amada and her ward, Forrest Lodestone, an herbalist. Forrest Lodestone is infected, and treats the ill from one side of a canvas partition to prevent Amada from contracting the disease, too. Doctor Amada believes the illness is magical in origin, but she can’t say for certain what the cause is. If the party brings her one of Stirk’s traps, she can verify it was not the cause of the illness, but she thinks the food is responsible somehow. Forrest Lodestone is a vegetarian and didn’t eat any of the “contaminated” meat, so he thinks it can’t possibly be the fault of the game traps. Lodestone has two days left since he developed symptoms of exhaustion: he moves slowly, and struggles to do and remember things.

Haymander Stirk’s Cabin in the Marsh - The cabin is a sturdy log structure. There are animal pelts being stretched on wooden frames outside and a pile of animal bones sits a hundred yards from the house itself. It is inhabited by Haymander Stirk, a trapper and woodsman who has lived in the marsh all his life. He is hostile to strangers, thinking that they’re here to accuse him of causing the disease. If the party can convince him to talk with them, he will reveal that he got sick, too, and by his best guess he’s got a couple hours left. He says he saw something out there--a large, orange, amphibious creature that attacked a bear and then fled; the bear survived, but he saw the same creature again last night, shambling and zombified and covered in orange fungus. At the DM’s discretion, Stirk may already be dead when the party arrives (especially if they go everywhere else first).

The Remains of the Merchant Shipment - two badly damaged wagons. The contents of the wagons have been strewn about the site; food rots in the muck and clothes are scattered across the quagmire. Everything of value has already been taken, and the bodies are gone. The most the party can find are a few missing limbs, grown over with a disgusting grey-orange fungus.

The Slaad Nest - a rock-walled hideaway deep in the marsh. One side of the marsh is a downward, rocky slope, while the rest is sheer cliff; at the back of the nest, a crack in the rock provides a back exit. The nest has several small, scraggly trees and due to the marshy landscape is considered difficult terrain.

Outline:

The herbalists and doctors of Black Ridge Marsh don’t know what to do about the people who come to them covered in pebbled, sickly orange pustules, and when they begin coughing up gray-orange, blood-streaked mucus and die a few days later, they send a call for help from the nearest town. The party may have been hired to investigate, or perhaps they are coincidentally traveling through the marsh around the same time (at the DM’s discretion, based on what suits your needs)

Encounter 1:

Takes place outside Black Ridge village, before the party reaches the village. 

Enemy: 4 zombie wolves. 

To boost its difficulty in a party with heavy damage-dealers, consider maxing out the wolf’s hitpoints to 18 hp rather than the recommended 11.

The DM’s goals in this encounter are 1) establish the threat of zombified creatures in the area, 2) batter the PCs before their arrival in town, and 3) leave the threat open of another zombie-wolf attack later. With that in mind, use description of the wolves to suggest that around their eyes and muzzles is a peculiar orange fungus sprouting from their flesh, aim to harm the PCs rather than drain their resources, and if 2 wolves are killed, let the other 2 attempt to flee the scene rather than fight to the death.

If the party is keeping a lookout for creatures in the marsh, they might be able to detect the wolves before they attack. Use a DC 12 Perception check to determine if the wolves are seen; if they aren’t, the party members are considered surprised for one round. 

After the zombie-wolf encounter, the party comes upon the village. By the time they arrive on the scene, ten of the marsh’s 120 residents are dead, three of them children. There is a funeral taking place at the first house they come to; the body is wrapped in canvas to prevent contamination and placed in a steel box to be sunk in the depths of the marsh.

The townsfolk are desperate for help; five more infected are wasting away in the town’s only apothecary. They’ve traced the problem to their food, so the price of food brought in from other areas has tripled as people will pay a high premium for uncontaminated food.

Through interactions with Doctor Gayle Amada, trapper Haymander Stirk, and barkeep and sorcerer Jantriss Pearbrewer as well as other assorted NPCs, the party can discover assorted details outlined in the location and NPC section above that they can use to inform their actions.

Intermediate encounters can be rearranged depending on what the PCs choose to do and where they go; each of these is tied to a location. You may not use all of these; they depend largely on party choices. 

Encounter 2.1:

Takes place in the village of Black Ridge. 

Enemy: 3 zombies. 

The DM’s goals in this encounter are to 1) cause some havoc in town, and 2) set up the calculating maneuvers of the ultimate villain. The zombies’ strategy is to attack the Moonglow Tavern, which is near the burial grounds of the village. They attempt to break in and attack Jantriss, but never actually harm her--even apparent “attacks” should miss. 

Encounter 2.2:

Takes place in the marsh, preferably while the party is looking for the monster causing all this. Alternately, use before or after they visit Haymander’s Cabin.

Enemy: 3 zombie wolves and 4 slaad tadpoles. 

The DM’s goal here is to set up the appearance of the Slaad later in the plot and follow through on the escape of the zombified wolves at the beginning of the arc, as well as staying consistent with the dangers to be found in the marsh. If they examine the tadpoles, a DC 12 Investigation check shows large protrusions from their heads containing small orange gemstones.

See zombie wolf stats above.

Encounter 2.3:

Takes place at the merchant shipment.

Enemy: 7 zombies. These zombies are blooming with orange fungus. A few of them are missing limbs that match up perfectly to the dismembered limbs the party finds at the scene, making it clear that the merchant caravan was zombified.

Encounter 3.1 (boss fight):

Takes place in the marsh.

Enemy: an orange slaad (homebrew version of Red Slaad).

When the Orange Slaad’s HP is under half its hitpoint maximum, it will claw at a tree as part of its multiattack, then flee through a crack in the rocks behind it. The tree ripples and melts into an ochre jelly.

Encounter 3.2: 

Takes place as a part of the Boss Fight.

Enemy: 1 ochre jelly. After it is formed by the Orange Slaad, the Ochre Jelly acts as a defense against the party while the Slaad attempts to escape. The jelly will attempt to block the opening in the rock at all times, but it can be lured away.

Your goal here is to give the Slaad a chance to recover HP while complicating combat with another enemy. The party can also choose to let the Slaad escape for the time being and break away to take a short or a long rest in the meantime.

Encounter 3.3: 

Boss fight cont’d.

After defeating the jelly or finding another way to track the Slaad, the party can eventually track it down. If the party opted to take a rest, the Slaad is back to full HP; otherwise, it regains 10 hp for every round that has passed.

The Twist: The slaad has a hole carved in its head, and after it is killed, the party can see there is a spot where a chunk of gemstone has been chipped out. The rest is with Jantriss Pearbrewer, who has been controlling the slaad this whole time! She is a sorcerer of the aberrant mind, and she’s furious that her monster is dead.

Reward:

The townsfolk are overjoyed that the monster is defeated. They will reward the party with horses, 200gp, and a letter of commendation they can use at the nearest city to exchange for a favor with the captain of the guard, who grew up in Black Ridge.

[once-upon-an-animation]

Frozen II (Spoilery) Review

So I went and saw Frozen in theatres last night, and... I like it, but I was somewhat disappointed. Not sure if that was because I spoiled most of the movie for myself already before going in, but then again, most of the stuff I was disappointed with was writing issues as opposed to feeling underwhelmed, so meh. Here goes:

The Good:

- I actually really like most of the sound track. AIF, STNC, ITU, & SY were instant faves and are on repeat. TNRT isn’t really a fun song to listen to, but the lyrics are pretty powerful. 

- The premise of F2. One of my complaints about F1 was the lack of lore and explanation for any of the magic. I’m glad that this film took an origin-story approach, and dove deeper into the world of magic in Arendelle. Much-needed.

- The outfits. Elsa’s new fit at the end of the movie was absolutely gorgeous, and I really like her with her hair down. Anna’s travelling outfit (with the cape) is my favourite, and I think I’m the only one who really likes her coronation dress (at least the colours anyway). But I think I do prefer some of her coronation dress concepts from The Art of Frozen: 

- Matthias is a treasure. Enough said. 

- Olaf’s death scene. Wow. 

- Iduna’s lullaby being a theme for the movie was awesome. It’s somewhat haunting, but also inviting.

- The animation was stunning. The color scheme for the movie worked really nicely, and Show Yourself was easily one of the prettiest animation scenes I’ve scene in a while. Especially when Ahtohallan revealed the memories in a drop of snow; absoluting breathtaking. 

- For all the bitching that everyone did prior to the film, the separation wasn’t even that bad. Everyone seemed pretty chill about the whole thing, and no one looked like they were heart broken. Y’all definitely stressed yourselves out for nothing.

The Bad:

- F2 had this weird thing going on where there was no real plot, but also, a lot was happening in every scene. I think Jen and the rest of the team overextended themselves with the backstory of Arendelle, Northuldra, the spirits, Iduna, Agnarr, Elsa, Ahtohallan, character arcs, etc. so everything felt so convoluted. They could have definitely simplified some things so it was easier to follow, tied certain aspects together, or at least get rid of the B-plots so the main story could get more attention.  

- Because of how much they had to cram in, the pacing was far too quick. They were skipping important transitions and jumping from scene to scene, and they didn’t allow enough time for some of the events and dialogue to flesh themselves out and settle into the story. Slow-down scenes are very important for a movie to feel like comfortable and evenly-paced, and F2 not only didn’t have enough of those, but when they did, they rushed through it and moved on to a new idea too quickly. It was like they were desperate to keep spoon-feeding us information. 

- Speaking of spoon-feeding info, waaaaaay too much of the dialogue was expositional. Most of the interactions only served to explain what was happening either to the audience or to other characters, and they didn’t feel like the natural and relaxed dialogues that were present in F1. The writing team really disobeyed the “show, don’t tell” rule in this movie, and it was very apparent. 

- One of my biggest complaints about F1 was Elsa’s lack of personality outside of her magic (and Elsa feeling more like a plot device), and it looks like the writers didn’t bother to fix that in F2. While I understand that depression and anxiety can be that overwhelming, it doesn’t work for Elsa as a fictional character to not have any shining aspects of her character outside of the issues she has with her magic. Is she funny? Is she sarcastic? What does she like to talk about on a regular basis? Is she really passionate about art or music? Does she practice an instrument or draw in her spare time? What does she like to crack jokes about? Who are her friends and what do they do when they hang out? It seems like Elsa’s magic defines every aspect of her and I don’t like that. She needs to have stronger characterization. I feel like no one at Disney really knows how to write her as a complex, dynamic, and fluid person outside of her powers. 

- Everybody’s character arc sucked and/or didn’t exist. Almost no one grew fundamentally, and if they did, their arc was written so poorly and better resembled a scatter-plot. Elsa started and ended the movie acting the same way. There’s no significant difference in her personality or the way she interacts with anyone or her view on the world. Olaf....???? His “some things change” arc was just weird all around. Anna did grow as far as her constantly trying to watch over Elsa, but her queenship should have had an arc too. While I like Anna as queen, it felt random, and really lacked build-up and foreshadowing. It also didn’t help that the scene where she and Elsa talked about making her queen didn’t exist. Again, skipping important transitions. And Kristoff...oh sweet Kristoff...

- I don’t ship Kristanna, but I’m not anti-Kristanna or anti-Kristoff either. I don’t mind their relationship at all. But this proposal plot was not it. Not only was it incredibly poor timing, but why did the writers think that was the best they could do with Kristoff? You have a reindeer ice man going from living in a mountain to being a part of the royal family, and proposing was the best challenge you could think of? How about the ups and downs of adjusting to royal life? Where is my Kristoff feeling out of place in the family because he’s awkward at balls, uncomfortable in stuffy clothing, getting nervous about greeting royal dignitaries, wanting to give commands to soldiers but not sure if it’s his place, wanting to contribute more to Arendelle but not knowing what to do, feeling like he’s not a good fit? Where is his sense of growth as he realizes that he doesn’t have to change who he is at heart to fit in to the royal family, and that he does have a place in Arendelle and in Anna’s life? Where is his growth in getting comfortable with royal life? This was such an easy option, come on!

- Lost in the Woods is a good stand alone song, but it should have been written differently for the film. It really kills the mood of the film and doesn’t vibe with the setting, and while the animation is hilarious, it also makes Kristoff look kind of silly. I loathe the Lopezes for always opting for poppy/rock showtunes, and not writing melodies and instrumentals that actually work for Frozen’s time setting. I don’t think they understand how much some of their songs really draw people out of the film. When I’m Older is also a pointless song. You can tell that its only in there for shits and giggles so Olaf would have something to sing.They should have had him sing while he was dying or something.

- Not enough of the supporting characters. What’s the point of adding Matthias or a whole tribe with Yelana, Honeymaren, and Ryder if you’re not going to do anything with them fundamentally? 

- Not enough Agnarr and Iduna. I actually found Iduna’s arc to be far more interesting than any of the main characters, and yet, they didn’t give enough screen time for her backstory. Ughhhhhhh. 

- Too many callbacks to F1. Some of them were cute, but the rest were super corny, completely unnecessary, and just a nod to the fandom. If you’re going to do a callback, it’s best done in a way that’s actually relevant to the story.  

- I would mind the separation even less if Elsa’s reason for staying in the forest wasn’t soooooo unclear. Why did she need to stay? Who assigned her the role of protector? What is she protecting against? Who currently cares about threatening the spirits? 

- Arendelle should have gotten destroyed period. Not only is Elsa conveniently getting unfrozen, saved by the Nokk, and arriving at Arendelle all in time to stop the flood with an ice wall so incredibly predictable and cliche, but it would have also fit into the “some things do change” theme that they kept literally stating. Also, Kristoff likely being good with carpentry could have really shined here in helping Arendellians rebuild, and if he had the arc I explained before, then this would have been his moment of finding his place. Genius, isn’t it?

- With all the lore they added, they still didn’t explain the trolls OR Kristoff’s backstory. What is their place in this story? How come Grand Pabbie knew nothing of the spirits or the dam story, or the Northuldra? Where the heck is Kristoff from? How come Runeard never tried to destroy the trolls? 

- Iduna just said “Anna who?” huh? No acknowledgement for her other daughter whatsoever. 

- This movie felt more like an expansion than a necessary story. 

- Okay, I’m done. 

[foxtophat]

(still trying to figure out how i link these but whatever)

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!! i decided to just sit down and hammer out the last edits for this lil one-shot so i could get it out today!

i’m gonna be real with you: the only reason i wrote this fic is because i couldn’t get the idea out of my head.  you weren’t supposed to see mercyverse for another month, honestly!!! but it’s been cold as fuck here and it’s made me fantasize about classic bed-sharing tropes, and so here we are!

this is a bit of a slice of life, to sort of give an idea of how day-to-day these guys all interact, especially now that carmina doesn’t have to pretend john doesn’t exist.  plus, i’m starting to see how the caches might be involved in the overarching plot???? awesome!!!

as usual, the full text is below the cut for my friends who don’t wanna leave tumblr.  i hope you enjoy -- feel free to leave a comment, i loooove hearing from readers. likes and reblogs are also great! kudos are fantastic! adding to the hit counter is just fine by me!!! anything you do to show support for fanfic is a good thing imo.  i hope y’all have a happy wintereenmas or whatever and i will see you guys in 2021 with more mercyverse :)

The best thing Nick can say about the blizzard currently sweeping the county is that he could see that it was coming. They'd gotten almost a foot of snow the night before, which gets him worried about getting snowed in, and as the day progresses, the sky grows an ominous gray that Nick recognizes from a lifetime of living in the area. He knows that they probably only have a few hours left before they're going to want to get inside and avoid the worst a winter storm has to offer.

Nick and John spend the entire morning hauling wood into the house, while Kim does her best to clean out the broken chimney and ensure they won't die of smoke inhalation. They also pull in some pre-made stock that Kim had left in the freezer after it had gotten cold enough to use, as well as a few smaller pieces for miscellaneous projects. But with the storm rolling in overhead, they don't have long; they end up leaving a lot of things for later as the wind whips up around them and turns the snow sideways.

By two in the afternoon, they've closed the doors to officially bunker down for the rest of the blizzard. They have enough wood to last them three days, plus their military rations and plenty of coffee, so Nick isn't particularly concerned about their safety. The only thing he's really got to contend with is boredom, which is easier to stave off in the first few hours of captivity than it is later in the evening.

For the most part, Nick passes the time by sharpening their knives, cleaning their guns, and checking the radio every hour for any emergencies. The blizzard ensures that not many people are on, but at least he gets to check in with Jerome and make sure that Grace is safely in her bunker. It's unlikely they'll get in contact with the trailer park until after the worst passes, but that just means Nick's gonna worry about those jackasses all night.

Kim is probably the only one comfortable with the downtime, making the most of things as she chews on the radio's instructions. When the technical jargon gets to be too much, she switches to entertaining Carmina, who gets bored quick when her only job is to keep the fire going. The easiest distraction comes from card games; the deck they'd had in the bunker had shrunk to only 32 cards, but now that they've got a full deck to work with, Carmina is eager to relearn and master games like Go Fish and Old Maid. Nick doubts Jacob planned to be entertaining kids with his survival gear, but it's not like the guy's gonna complain.

Carmina isn't the only one that Jacob is keeping busy beyond the grave. Ever since they found that cache of his, John has been borderline obsessed with figuring out what the point of it could be. He'll go all day without mentioning the puzzle plaguing him, but any available downtime has him staring at the map and its coordinates. Nick and Kim have both been keeping an eye on it, just in case it turns into something worse than his usual tunnel-vision, but so far it hasn't gotten out of hand. If anything, John seems more aware and alert now that he has something to focus on, and now Nick can even pretend he's a normal guy for conversations at a time before being reminded otherwise.

Of course, the blizzard's making it impossible to find alternate distractions. John does spend part of the afternoon in his room, but eventually, he can't help but come downstairs to mull over the map. There's only one problem with that — they've hung the map up in the radio room, so there's about ten minutes every hour where Nick has no choice but to sit in John's presence. It probably wouldn't bother him so much if there was somewhere else either of them could be, but they're stuck for the foreseeable future. John's looming is just going to be part of Nick's life until the storm passes.

In the interest of keeping the peace, Nick reluctantly tries to have the same level of interest in the random dots that John shows. His attention, however, is distracted by the penciled-in changes that he, Kim and John have all been making to the landscape. The river's wider in some places now, and there are doodles of trees in spaces that were once open fields. A few X's mark places where bridges have collapsed, and Kim's circled anywhere they've made radio contact with. Their notations have scattered across the valley, and have even spread over to the river region thanks to Hurk and his raider gang, but they still don't know anything about the mountains, or even the spaces that are supposedly occupied by bow-wielding religious nutjobs. It's going to be a while before any of them get the nerve to go poking that particular hornet's nest.

John has his little notebook open, but he's not writing anything down. Nick's not sure what he would even put down, since they haven't gotten any more leads since early autumn, but he's always got the thing tucked in a pocket nowadays. Maybe Nick should be mad he outright stole that resource from the rest of them, but — well, come on. He can't yell at the man for taking up journaling, not without flying in the face of every therapist Nick had pretended not to listen to. It's just... well, what the hell is there for him to write down?

"Are you staring for any particular reason?" John asks, because of course he does.

"That's rich, coming from the guy lurking over my shoulder all day." Nick flips off the static-ridden radio frequency, leaning back in his chair so that he can get a better look at the map push-pinned to the wall. "I hear if you look at it just right, you can see a sailboat."

John's clearly not much of a Kevin Smith fan, because he only sighs heavily at Nick's flat joke. "If you have something better for me to be doing, I'm all ears," he says, revealing to Nick at last just how bored he really is. Weirdly enough, being in the same boat as John is somehow reassuring.

"Okay, fine. At least tell me what you're staring at, so I know what to fake interest in."

Even though it's mostly a joke, it lands softly enough that John doesn't take offense. Stuffing the notebook in his back pocket, he shakes his head, gesturing at the map. Getting John to explain himself is usually like pulling teeth, but right now he seems relieved to have someone to bounce his thoughts off of. It's a long way away from the guy Nick remembers saving, enough so that it almost catches his full interest.

"It's nothing in particular, really. I've already spent hours staring at this thing, but I'm... still looking for a pattern, I guess. Jacob was paranoid and secretive, but if there's a hidden code buried in these coordinates, it's beyond me to see it. And the snow was already keeping us from traveling too far — now with this blizzard, we're likely stuck with no new information until spring ..."

John sighs, rubbing his forehead as the pretense finally abandons him. "I just don't know what I'm supposed to do until then."

That's certainly a feeling that Nick can relate to. Nick is less of a workaholic than John might be, but that doesn't mean he won't go stir-crazy without his own set of chores. Hell, that's why he's been hanging around the radio in between games of cards with the girls and cleaning whatever he can get his hands on. It must suck extra for John; the guy's been spinning his tires in the dirt for years, probably, and being this close to having a purpose beyond doing whatever chores Nick sets him to must be irritating.

Nick props one leg up against the wall, tapping his boot against the wood as he ponders the dots scattered around the map. There are a few still in the valley, but there's no driving until they thaw out. The points in the mountains are probably inaccessible to anybody, and who knows when they'll get to investigate the old vet center or find the Wolf's Den. There are a couple points nearer the trailer park, though, and not for the first time Nick tries to measure the distance from Hurk to the various red dots. There's one near the lumber mill, and one near where that godawful statue was, and of course one right smack dab in the middle of the original Peggy compound.

Nick can't imagine his truck making it all the way there and back, not without more information about the roads. Hurk might not have the same trouble. "I could send the trailer park a couple coordinates," he points out. "They might get to search before us, and it could cut the work in half."

Despite John's scowl, he only sounds tired as he replies, "I've considered it, but I don't trust them. Then again, I hardly trust myself, so who knows."

"I guess you're shit outta luck, then," Nick says. John takes obvious offense at Nick brushing him off, but hey, what else is Nick supposed to do? "God's giving you a freebie with this blizzard. Maybe you should try catching up on your sleep, or something."

"And ruin the precarious schedule I'm keeping?"

"Jesus, then go read a book! Just — you know, quit hovering over me all day. Don't you know how to entertain yourself?"

John seems unphased by Nick's half-hearted outburst. "This is how I entertain myself. Maps, resources, legal documents — that's probably the only decent outlet I've ever had." He stares at Nick's boot, unwilling to meet his eyes. "At least, it's the only one healthy enough to keep."

That is probably a safe bet, Nick realizes, quickly trying to backpedal away from the open scab that is John's history. "Uh, well, what about before the cult?"

John surprises them both with a brief laugh. "If I could source some coke, then yes, I would be entertained."

"Jesus, John."

"I'm not known for my healthy self-care habits," John points out, a little too smug to be truly self-deprecating. At least he seems to understand what Nick had been getting at originally, deferring with a vague hand-wave. "Is my loitering in the kitchen going to be too smothering for you, too, or is that okay?"

Nick rolls his eyes, flipping the radio back on to scan the channels once again. "It's fine, whatever. Just as long as you've got something better to entertain yourself than snaking the whiskey Jacob left."

"I'm more of a gin guy," John admits.

"Of course you are."

It's still a relief, though, knowing they aren't keeping an alcoholic too near his fix. On top of that, John's relaxed disregard for his past vices settles nerves Nick hadn't even realized were rattled. Sure, there's probably a whole other box of American Psycho- esque worms waiting to be opened up from John's time before Eden's Gate, but at least he seems to have comfortably packed that part of his life away for now. Unlike talking about the cult, John has no trouble dropping the conversation, just as casually as he'd brought it up. He retreats into the kitchen to mull over whatever he's written down already, leaving behind no traumatic story or sad-eyed stare — just the casual admission that he would really like to do some drugs.

Weirdly enough, that is probably the most respectable thing about John to date.

Nick spends another fifteen minutes checking the radio, scanning the channels he knows people use most. He winds up with nothing to show for it — either the storm is making radio communication impossible, or everybody else has given up on their radios. It's only after he's cleared the range twice that he flips the radio off and escapes back to Kim and Carmina, leaving John in the kitchen with a broad, somehow-sarcastic gesture towards the now unoccupied radio nook.

Carmina ropes Nick into a game of Go Fish, which Kim seems keen on losing. Nick isn't surprised — Carmina is a wily player, which is to say that she tries to bluff her way through hands with all the grace of a sledgehammer. Kim's not as willing to put up with cheating as Nick is, but neither of them are capable of even pretending to believe Carmina's poker face. It's going to be a problem one day, but Nick isn't exactly ready to teach his daughter how to lie to his face.

Well, that is until she and Nick are on their third round of Go Fish, and Nick has had to pretend not to see through all of Carmina's gambits.

He asks her if she has any threes, and she scrunches her nose up as she glances meaningfully at her cards. "Go fish," she says, making Nick regret not having Kim sit right behind their daughter as a referee.

"Fine," he grumbles, "If you say so."

Kim blinks skeptically at the pants she's fixing, but she doesn't offer Nick any out. If it weren't for his clumsy hands, maybe he could use darning socks and patching shirts as an excuse to quit playing, but as it stands, the only thing he has other than getting trounced is staring at the map with John. And since he already tried that and found it to be mildly aggravating at best...

"You know, this would be more fun with more people," Nick says, desperately glancing at Kim.

Kim, of course, gives him no quarter. "Why don't you ask John," she suggests rhetorically.

"John," Carmina calls out, "Do you wanna play Go Fish?"

Nick opens his mouth to chastise Carmina, but he realizes there's nothing to discipline her for. Especially not when John flippantly replies, "I think your father's looking to play with fewer cheaters, not more."

"I'm not cheating!" Carmina exclaims, not-so-surreptitiously pressing her cards into her lap to ensure nobody's looking at them. Between that and her guiltily furrowed brow, there's no hiding it. Her poker face needs a lot of work.

"Go Fish isn't even worth cheating at," Nick sighs, gesturing for her cards. "If that's the way you wanna play, at least do it the right way. Here, gimme your cards — John, come over here so I can teach my daughter how to lie to your face."

As if playing a game of cards with John wasn't enough to excite Carmina, she's doubly over the moon when he tells her the rules. After all, a ten-year-old girl is the prime demographic for the game Bullshit, especially when she's given carte blanche to shout cuss words at her dad. On top of that, it seems like bluffing really is half of the fun for his daughter — which is a little intimidating, sure, but at least he knows she's smart enough to understand the utility of lying.

John is... unenthusiastic, to say the least, but that only makes the prospect of humiliating him that much better. A few weeks ago, Nick would've thought John was too fragile to be messed with, but now there's a bounce in his step that will make taking him down easier. He's got to do something to remind himself that this nearly-tolerable man is usually a miserable sonofabitch.

Unfortunately, John has a fantastic poker face. Nick figured that from the get-go, but it's still daunting to play against a bored, uninterested party. That's probably why Carmina avoids John in favor of hounding Nick, calling out "bullshit!" with delightful glee whenever she thinks Nick has dropped the wrong face card or played a nine instead of a King. On the one hand, Nick appreciates that he can read her as well as she can, but on the other hand, he'd really like a chance to beat John. So far, he's the only one who's called John out, and all he has to show for it is the extra six cards in his hand.

Although Kim is on standby for this round, she keeps flashing Nick amused grins whenever Carmina calls bullshit. Nick almost hopes John can hold it together to be mundane for two entire rounds of cards because he wouldn't stand a chance against Kim.

Case in point, John lays down two cards that are meant to be threes, and Kim clicks her tongue disapprovingly. Carmina frowns up at her mom, who only shrugs and suggests, "I would call him out, if I were you."

John's neutral frown doesn't change. "Last I checked, you weren't playing," he says.

Kim only shrugs in response. Nick furrows his brow at Kim while Carmina squints suspiciously from the discard pile to John and then back again. Of course, encouraging a ten-year-old to swear is always going to win out, and so Carmina wrinkles her nose and calls John out with a slightly uncertain, "Okay, bullshit."

Without so much as a grimace of defeat, John lets Carmina flip his played cards — one three, and one dirty, rotten, lying, bullshit seven .

"That's what I thought," Kim says, flippantly triumphant. "Guess you're not as hard to read as you thought."

Nick sure can't tell what John's thinking as he lifts one shoulder noncommittally. "I stand corrected."

"Wait," Nick asks, "What gave it away?"

"I'm not helping you too , Nick," Kim laughs. "That wouldn't be fair."

"It's not exactly fair to help Carmina," John points out. Nick bets he's just as interested in what tell Kim noticed, although he manages to be less obvious about it. At least he can't crack Kim's smug smile any better than Nick, which is some small compensation.

Nick manages to win this hand, if only because his play strategy involves lying as little as possible. That seems to work against Carmina no problem, but Nick suspects John threw the game out of personal disinterest. If it weren't for the howling winds whistling through the roof and second story, John would probably excuse himself from another hand by retreating upstairs, but as it is he manages to sit through one more round of cards, this time with Kim joining in.

Carmina's poker-face doesn't improve by leaps and bounds, exactly, but she manages to fool Nick into picking up a fat stack of cards, so that's something. Too bad he'd been trying to teach her to lie to John , not her parents. Well — at least she's a nice enough kid to only do it for fun. He hopes, anyway.

Kim makes John's loss look more organic, at least, and she doesn't rub it in too badly when she wins. It's extra kind of her considering Nick is the one who called her last play bullshit, leaving him to rot in miserable third place after both his girls. Well, fine . At least Carmina seemed to have fun, even if Nick is now sitting with nearly half a deck in his hands. If the blizzard keeps up for too long, they might have to graduate to poker.

Before they can play any more card games, though, they take time out for dinner. It's almost normal, sitting around the fireplace with their military rations and some hot broth — if they were eating Marie Calendar pot-pies and watching Christmas movies, Nick would even be able to ignore John's presence sticking out like a sore thumb.

The next best thing to watching movies is talking about them, which has become something of a tradition between the Ryes. It all started in the bunker, where Kim and Nick ran out of normal Christmas stories and began taking turns narrating whatever holiday movies they could remember. They've run through all the memorable Rankin & Bass flicks, as well as a couple more contemporary ones, so they're starting to reach for their personal favorites or the very bottom of the barrel plots.

Nick intends to be paying Jingle All the Way a tribute tonight, but as soon as he mentions that the Arnold Schwarzenegger vehicle is one of his favorites, he's interrupted by John snorting derisively.

"Let me guess," Nick snaps, "You're one of those jackasses who pretends Die Hard is a legitimate Christmas movie just so he doesn't have to watch good, family-friendly content."

"It is a legitimate Christmas movie," John responds, just petulantly enough to tell Nick he hit the nail on the head.

"Look, Kim and I have already had this discussion — just because it takes place during Christmas doesn't make it a Christmas movie . Set dressing alone isn't enough!"

John raises his eyes towards the ceiling, which is as subtle as his eyerolls can get. "Whatever you say, Nick."

"What's Die Hard about?" Carmina asks, excitedly guessing, "Does Santa get to shoot people in it?"

"That would be a good Christmas movie," Nick replies. "No, it's just about some guy who has to fight bad guys in a building."

"During Christmas," Kim points out.

"Okay, fine during Christmas. But nobody's dressed up like Santa, nobody sings any carols, and there sure as hell isn't any Christmas magic that saves the day, so it doesn't count!"

"So what does happen?" Carmina asks.

Damn it — Nick should have known that talking about an action flick would immediately disinterest her towards any sloppy story about consumerism. She doesn't even know what a mall is — but she knows how to shoot a handgun, and now that Nick's thinking about it, she might need to use the duct-tape shoulder holster trick one day. It would be pretty bad-ass if she knew how, anyway.

"Okay, fine, I'll do it real quick. I don't remember all the parts, so Kim, you gotta help."

Real quick turns out to take almost as much time as the movie itself had. Kim interjects whenever Nick forgets a plot point, but at least he remembers the core conflict. Sort of, anyway — by the time he's done recounting John McClane's tale, John looks visibly dissatisfied, and Kim has a "well, sort of" expression on her face that implies he didn't quite nail the execution. Well, who cares what they think? All that matters is that Carmina is entertained, and of course she is. After all, narrated or not, it's still Die Hard . Just so long as she doesn't ask about the sequels, they should be okay.

The wind is still whipping overhead, and Nick can see nothing beyond the windows. There's no telling how late it's gotten. Although his internal clock insists it can't have been that long since sundown, Carmina has been yawning for a while now, and the fire's gone down again. It looks like sleeping through the storm is the only pastime left for Nick to try.

Carmina takes over stoking the fire for the final time before bed, while Kim makes her way upstairs to gather as much of their bedding as she can carry. John follows reluctantly behind, clearly unhappy with the prospect of facing his own cold room, but Nick figures he can deal for five damn minutes. For his part, Nick busies himself checking the radio one last time, just in case there's an emergency. He doesn't know what they'd be able to do if there was one, but that doesn't stop him from checking anyway.

With the radio situated just under the stairs, it's easy to listen in to Kim stomping around in the room above, desperate to keep her temperature up. Nick had put off too many attic repairs before this winter — he's going to have to make up for that in spring, when he and John can worm their way into the rafters and ensure that their next winter won't turn the bedrooms into a cold wasteland. Of course, even if they did patch up the gaps in the floorboards and do their best to insulate the attic, not much can beat a genuine fire in the middle of a snowstorm.

Nick isn't even paying attention to the radio, so he flips it off and trusts that everyone can keep themselves safe for another night. He hears the whump of fabric as Kim tosses their two biggest, least moldy blankets down for Carmina to start with, and the creak of footsteps on the landing overhead. Kim's voice isn't raised, but it carries down to Nick clear as a bell.

"John, you'll freeze if you stay up here," she says. "Get your stuff and come downstairs."

"It's not that cold," John says, attempting to deflect from one weak excuse with another. "I doubt Nick approved that suggestion."

Well, not technically, no, but Nick had sort of assumed they were already all on the same page. What does John think Nick's gonna do, force him to freeze upstairs so he can hog the fireplace all to himself?

Kim doesn't give the excuses a chance to breathe, replying with parental exasperation. "He and I both agree it's too cold to sleep upstairs." Nick can hear the teasing plain as day when she adds, "Just don't be weird about it."

Sure enough, suggesting John might be making things awkward is enough to get him to shut up and follow orders. Nick briefly longs for the days when John would mutely nod and do as told without any additional goading, but only for a second. Even that is long enough retrospection to remind Nick of how creepy and genuinely alarming it had been. Sure, John might get argumentative or exasperated now, but at least there's an actual person to communicate with. Nick might want to kick his ass more now than before, but he absolutely hated dealing with the hollow-eyed monster John had been.

Besides, it's way more satisfying being a dick to him now that he actually gets offended.

Despite John's furrowed-brow glares, Nick doesn't comment whatsoever on him trailing downstairs after Kim, clutching two actual blankets and a tarp that's weather-worn enough to pass muster. He stands and waits for someone to point him in the right direction as Kim and Carmina do their best to bundle together a soft place on the floor, but Nick studiously ignores him until he makes a decision himself. John takes a spot close to the fireplace, off to the right of where the girls are setting up. It's still plenty removed enough, so that nobody will get the wrong idea and think John is supposed to be welcome down here. Nick wonders who he's trying to convince, but there are so many damn demons in the man's head, it's anybody's guess.

With the fire roaring for the last time that night, all the blankets arranged and everybody looking exhausted despite not doing anything all day, Nick finally gets to crawl into bed and put this whole goddamn blizzard behind him. Hopefully, the weather has the common sense to clear up tomorrow — for now, it's time to shut out the cold entirely.

He must be tired. Nick barely stays conscious as Kim and Carmina climb under the blankets, the cool air rapidly warming as they begin to shift around and get comfortable. He rouses a few times at first as Carmina kicks his leg and Kim bumps into him, but eventually, he finds himself dozing in the silence of a quiet house. Far above them, the wind is whipping through the attic, but from down here, it sounds like a generic white-noise machine; coupled with the crackling fire, Nick is lulled to sleep by the sounds of peaceful normalcy.

Who knows how long it is before Nick finds himself conscious again. Even then, he only wakes enough to hear the dying fire popping by his feet. Maybe he should stoke it. But that would mean moving, and Nick is weighted down on either side beneath warm blankets, so that's a hard no. He tries first to roll towards Kim and Carmina, ready to curl into a ball and conserve even more heat, but his right arm is stuck. It takes a few bleary-eyed blinks to realize what's pinned him down, but he's barely coherent enough to make sense of it.

Sometime in the night, John must've migrated from the no-man's-land he'd made for himself towards the Rye's pile of blankets. Unsurprising, really — but more than a little awkward, given how he's pressed into Nick's side, pinning Nick's arm in place. Worse yet, half of his blankets have been absorbed into the mess that Nick's been using to keep warm, which is going to make extracting himself tricky if not impossible.

While he tries to figure out how to avoid making this mortifying situation worse, Nick watches John for any signs of consciousness. The guy usually sleeps light, but Nick watches his breathing for a solid minute and doesn't catch anything. Either his poker-face is just that good, or John is actually asleep. Deeply, peacefully asleep. Nick had assumed that was impossible.

If Nick were a better person, he'd probably be thankful to see it. Glad to know that John's insomnia might finally be coming to an end. But Nick is mostly just an exhausted, anxious mess, and now he's just wondering how to get out of the situation he's found himself in.

John shifts, and like a guilty ten-year-old, Nick immediately closes his eyes and pretends to be asleep. If he's lucky, John will roll away of his own volition, or at least move enough to let Nick roll over himself. If only he'd decided to sleep on Kim's side — she wouldn't have the same trouble Nick has. She'd just kick him away and be done with it.

Slowly, John moves away from Nick. The relief is short-lived as John pulls back the covers enough to send a cold chill down Nick's side; it's a split-second decision that John immediately regrets, hissing under his breath and letting the blankets fall back into place as he recoils from the freezing temperatures.

Nick can't help his quiet huff of amusement — which is enough to break the illusion that he'd been asleep in the first place. He could probably still fake it, but if he does, John will definitely try to move his blankets, and that is going to be a much bigger problem than tolerating John in his personal space.

"Quit squirming so much," Nick mutters. "Gonna let in the cold."

John is silent and tense beside him, but he does stop squirming. It's like lying near a tense bar of iron. After a brief struggle to figure out what to say, John's embarrassment catches in his voice as he apologizes. "I'm sorry," he rasps. "I — must have been tired."

Nick sighs. "Just don't crush my arm again."

Even though John moves as though Nick threatened him, he stops short of retreating from the blankets entirely. Nick can only imagine how cold it must be — every breath of his that makes it above the blanket-line comes with a faint puff of visible air. No matter how humiliating it might be to cuddle up to Nick, it doesn't seem like John had much of a choice in the matter.

Before John can decide to try escaping again, Nick repeats, "Whatever you do, don't let in the cold."

In for a penny, Nick decides, worming deeper into the makeshift bed so that John can have more room. Rolling over is the easiest way to avoid the mortifying process of finding a comfortable sleeping arrangement. Eventually, they wind up back-to-back; Nick normally wouldn't be able to stand John touching him, but the additional body-heat does a lot to soothe Nick's reservations. Who knew all he needed to tolerate John's physical presence would be cold weather and exhaustion?

The Deputy, probably, which only makes Nick grin in tired relief. At least they would be glad to know that Nick's grown as a person. They'd probably be glad to learn he's finally gotten on-board with not murdering the Seeds in cold blood — even if it took an apocalypse to get there. If they could see the shit he's gotten himself into now, they'd probably...

He sighs. It must be a heavier sound than he imagined, because John whispers, "What?"

"Nothing," Nick says immediately, as default an answer as John's yeses are. But that's not fair, he doesn't think, because they never let John get away with his obvious deflections. As late as it is, it's easy to blame his guilt on his exhaustion. "Just thinking about Rook," he admits.

"Oh."

John is clearly uncomfortable with the topic, but he doesn't react when Nick continues sleepily, "They'd get a kick outta this, is all."

John hums. It's a quiet noise, but Nick can feel it vibrate through John's shirt. If there are two people Nick hates bringing Rook up around, it's Sharky and John. Sure, Sharky's crush was the one that was reciprocated, but Dep had always treated John's flat-footed overtures like creepy compliments instead of outright threats. They'd probably figured John's crush was superficial, whereas Sharky's had been more real than probably anything else Nick had seen the poor sap go through. John's infatuation had been about power, control, and Joseph goddamn Seed. Still, Nick can't help but wonder just how much of it might've been real to John at the time.

"They had a bad sense of humor," John finally responds, quietly enough that Nick almost misses the hurt.

"Terrible," Nick agrees.

When John sighs, Nick recognizes it as a sign of defeat. Whatever he's debating with himself, he's clearly lost. Although he doesn't speak up again, Nick isn't sure he's gone back to sleep. He sure hopes he didn't just instill another restless night in the guy, but that's John's burden to bear. Maybe he can use it to finally find some common ground with Sharky.

Nick isn't even sure that he can fall back asleep, but that doesn't seem to matter. Before he knows it, he's being woken up once more — this time by a glance of sunlight coming in through the upper part of the windows. It's just enough light to wake him, but he spends an exhausted minute staring at the wall over Kim's shoulder as he debates whether or not he's really committing this time. He's going to need to use the bathroom sooner or later — and just thinking that is enough to tell Nick that he's not getting back to sleep again.

John's back is still facing Nick, and Kim rolls away as soon as Nick starts to squirm, which leaves his path to escape much more open than it was a few hours ago. He manages to pull himself free without waking anyone else, but as soon as he does, John worms into the warm spot left behind. Nick should probably be upset, but mostly he just needs to pee. He can kick John out of his spot after he takes care of himself.

Nick leaves the rest of them to sleep as he tiptoes across the living room to the front door. Unfortunately, the door only wedges open an inch before it hits a wall of snow. Unwilling to wake anyone else up with catastrophic noise, Nick heads upstairs, going for the broken window in John's room. It's freezing up here, cold enough to keep meat until spring, and Nick pulls his flannel closer as he crosses the room, trying not to take too much stock of his surroundings. He doesn't care about the tallies John used to carve in the wall by his bed, and he definitely doesn't care to snoop through the pile of clothes that John's been growing in the corner. What he does care about is how easy it is to crawl out onto the roof from the window — after all, this isn't the first time Nick's been snowed in, and he's made escaping his childhood home an art-form.

There's a good three and a half feet of snow on the ground below, blocking any exit from the first floor. At least the gray sky above is calm, and the weather seems to have calmed down some. They'll have to prepare for another couple of inches before the week's out, but Nick bets the worst of it is over. Now he can think about breakfast — more specifically, coffee — and debate the best way to clear the doorways. They need a path out to the hangar, although they can wait another day or two before they'll need to press the matter. Nick's still convinced there's a set of tire chains hiding away in there, but it's not like the roads will be in any condition to drive on for a while yet...

Nick spends so much time thinking about what he's got to do, he forgets to consider how willing the rest of the house will be to pitch in. The top-of-the-snow sunlight isn't enough heat to make up for the lack of a fire, and getting Kim out from under the blankets is gonna be like pulling teeth until he does something about it. Worse yet, John's rolled into the spot Nick had occupied — not exactly sprawled out, or anything, but the guy is irritatingly close to Kim's sleeping back. If he decided to roll one more time, he'd probably end up smacking his face into her shoulder.

Nick considers throwing a fit on principle, but honestly, that's too much work. It's much easier to sulk, glowering at the bed he's definitely not getting back into before getting some logs to stack in the fire. He drops them noisily by John's feet, although he makes every effort not to accidentally pull a Misery on the guy.

The sound of hollow wood clattering on the ground is enough to stir John, who wakes with a sharp inhale, and cause Carmina to groan and turn away from the noise. Kim has probably been awake for a while now, but it won't make a lick of difference until the fire's on.

He turns away to toss the logs semi-haphazardly into the fireplace, then remembers the kindling and turns to get it. John has propped himself on his elbows, but his half-waking confusion causes him to overlook Nick entirely as he stares around the room. Seeing Kim and Carmina asleep next to him is initially met with confusion. He barely seems to recognize the shapes bundled in the blankets, but when he does he recoils in shock. All the nasty comments Nick had thought up take an abrupt backseat as he stops to marvel at the physical repulsion John shows. He's not sure if he should be offended or not. Probably not, but this apocalypse has got Nick wired all wrong.

"She's not gonna bite," Nick says. John whips his attention back to Nick the moment he raises his voice, only for Nick to realize that looming over the guy with a thick block of wood in hand might send the wrong message.

Sure enough, John catches sight of him, jerking back with a startled hiss. " Jesus !"

"Shit, sorry." Nick turns and drops the log, wincing at the noise that he'd moments ago been deliberately making. "Well, judging from that reaction, looks like this isn't the first time a man's caught you in bed with his wife."

John's withering glare is enough to lift Nick's mood right up. He turns his attention back to starting the fire, listening as John slowly shifts his way free of the blankets. Part of him wants to make a few more jokes at John's expense, but that can wait until John's coherent enough to be snide in return.

Nick gets the fire going and turns to follow John, who's made his way into the kitchen to peer out the window. "Completely snowed in," Nick tells him as he gets the instant coffee and the beat-up kettle. "But it looks like the worst of it's over."

"Seems to be," John agrees, adding, "We forgot the shovels in the truck. It's going to be difficult digging them out now."

"Not a lot of other options, unless you wanna stay inside until the big thaw. Don't worry, I'm sure Carmina will be excited to help us dig."

John hums in assent, although his mind seems to be somewhere else. Nick can't help but notice that John's pensive states seem damned near reasonable nowadays. He has plenty to think about, and he seems to be keeping one foot in the here-and-now. He's aware enough of his surroundings that he stops Nick before he can leave John to it.

He tries to stare Nick down, but he can't quite manage it. "Thank you for not..."

John gestures vaguely as the rest of the sentence fails to generate. Nick could probably wait it out, but he's just as embarrassed as John apparently is, and he would rather move past the whole thing.

"Don't worry about it," Nick says. "Just don't get too comfortable cuddling up to me."

Rolling his eyes doesn't hide John's faint smile, but he turns away before Nick can see if it lasts. "That won't be a problem, trust me."

Nick is surprised that he does, even for something as small and inconsequential as a joke. "Grab the mugs when you're done looking for Santa," he says, turning back for the warmth of the fire. A few months ago, Nick might've resented how eroded the line has become between John and his own family, but it's honestly too much work to keep up. At a certain point, they're just going to have to include John in their daily routines — Nick just hadn't expected that point to be made by sharing blankets during a blizzard.

Well, there's one good thing about that, Nick supposes — it means that somewhere up there, the Deputy is watching over them. After all, there's no way in hell random chance has the same shitty sense of humor as Rook had.

[ryuukia]

[Translation] Tsukihana Kagura Cast Presentation: Asagi (Growth)

Happy New Year, everyone! Continuing with Ryota’s translations (many thanks again), now is Growth’s time to shine. Next up will be my set of units, SolidS and then Quell.

Please don’t repost/retranslate/reuse this translation. Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

Nation: the affiliated country’s name Flower name: the name as a dancer Dance technique: the name of each person’s characteristic dance Dance props: the name of the tool used while dancing (there are cases when none are used)

Eto Koki

“We are Asagi. We will continue to pray for the world’s peace.”

Nation: Asagi ※Chief

Flower name: Kogetsu (Lonely Moon)

Dance technique: Kibanasanga (Scattered Rimy Flowers)

Dance props: Folding Fan / Inscription: [Gurousu] (Growth)

His family is the owner of a vast plot of land which they inherited from their ancestors. From there, they started finding success in agriculture and forestry. Moreover, their businesses continued to expand as they ventured in manufactures, sales, import, and even financing. They are a very wealthy family.

His father came from the nation of 'Asahanada' after falling in love with the Eto Household’s only daughter. In an attempt to woo her, his father became an excellent Flower Dancer and has once become a 'King of Flowers'.

Being their son, he has shown outstanding qualities since he was a child and for the past 15 years has been expected to be selected as the 'King of Flowers'.

Yaegashi Kensuke

“Asagi’s dance has a fast and slow tempo so it’s a lot more trying than you’d think~!”

Nation: Asagi

Flower name: Hekikuu (Cloudless)

Dance technique: Ryuuryokukakou (The World’s True Nature)

Dance props: Folding Fan / Inscription: [Shinra] (Blessings Between Heaven and Earth)

His family runs a food manufacturing company. The products his family makes are called “Yaegashi Sealed ●●” and are beloved by the locals. He couldn’t forget the “Tsukihana Kagura” he saw once at the “Tsukihana Festival” so he’s aiming to become a Flower Dancer.

Just as he was thinking of wanting to work very hard as a dancer for someone, Koki introduced him to a man he didn’t know (Mamoru). He was surprised at first but after getting to know Mamoru, he began to accept the idea. He's a very attentive man who usually knows how to make someone move just by taking a glance from head to toe at the person.

Interview with Eto Koki (Growth)

Q. Please tell us about the highlights of this stage play and your impressions or story behind your partnered dance.

Our dance has a lot of parts wherein I move far away and then closer to my partner so, when I was trying to move to my position, I accidentally hit Mamoru with a violent swing of my arm. I’m really sorry about that time (bitter smile). I will promise to show you a wonderful performance while being careful as well.

Q. In Tsukihana, all 12 nations have their own specialties, but if you could come up with a new specialty for your own country, what would it be?

Negi-yaki.

Q. Lastly, leave a short message for the fans.

Tsukihana Kagura has a total of 12 songs. Each of them are flowing with personality so I would be really happy if you listened and found all of them. Personally, aside from Asagi’s, I quite adore listening to Asahanada’s and Geppaku’s music. I wish that you would be able to find a favorite as well!

Interview with Yaegashi Kensuke (Growth)

Q. Please tell us about the highlights of this stage play and your impressions or story behind your partnered dance.

You can tell from the costume (I think?) that I will move around a lot~! I jump and move around so much. On the other hand, Ryou dances so elegantly. The complete difference in atmosphere is interesting. We actually do something different from each other halfway and then at the end, our movements become perfectly matched! It gives me goosebumps! Check it out, okay~?!

Q. In Tsukihana, all 12 nations have their own specialties, but if you could come up with a new specialty for your own country, what would it be?

Yaegashi Sealed Spring Onion. (It’s delicious!)

Q. Lastly, leave a short message for the fans.

The Yaegashi Seal is everywhere so there's Yaegashi Sealed dango, bread, and even ramen! Look forward to the amazing Yaegashi Family Seal that sells everything (laughs). We interact a lot with members we don’t usually interact with, too~!

Sakuraba Ryota

“Beautiful things are wonderful, aren’t they?”

Nation: Asagi

Flower name: Houki (The Prime of Womanhood)

Dance technique: Ryuuryokukakou (The Beauty of Spring)

Dance props: Folding Fan / Inscription: [Kuromonji] (Black Letters)

He hails from a wealthy household that specializes in foreign trading. Ever since he was young, he has been used to having any selfish whim of his granted. He is a bit of a mischievous and antagonistic type of person.

He seems to be attracted to things that don’t go his way. One reason that he loves dancing is because his own body doesn’t move just to fulfill ideals.

He is childhood friends with Koki and Kensuke, and while he says a lot, he thinks of the both of them as precious friends.

That is exactly why, he was a bit wary of Mamoru when he suddenly appeared in their lives.

Fujimura Mamoru

“I wish that the tears I saw that day would go away… I will dance for your sake.”

Nation: Asagi

Flower name: Yakou (Light in the Darkness)

Dance technique: Shiran (Purple Light)

Dance props: Fox Mask / Inscription: [Kokuko] (Black Fox)

He is a young man who was always on a journey. Though he felt at ease once he got back to Asagi, he fell unconscious right in the middle of the street in the capital city.

Fortunately, Koki happened to be passing by and picked him up. However, Mamoru was in a slightly malnourished state because he had scarcely eaten for two weeks.

Mamoru was not someone who was suited for survival in the first place so, Koki couldn’t find it in his heart to abandon him. There, their strange life living together began.

It all started with an act of just helping another person out. However, after seeing Mamoru’s mysterious and entrancing dance, Koki proposed to have him join as a dancer.

Interview with Sakuraba Ryota (Growth)

Q. Please tell us about the highlights of this stage play and your impressions or story behind your partnered dance.

My dance with Ken has choreography that emphasizes the difference between our personalities. There are a lot of contrasting movements that perfectly show our differences. However, I am doing my best to practice to make those differences fit together. It’s because we’re dancing as partners that I think I have to show how good we are together.

Q. In Tsukihana, all 12 nations have their own specialties, but if you could come up with a new specialty for your own country, what would it be?

Asagi Soft-serve Ice Cream.

Q. Lastly, leave a short message for the fans.

Unlike 'Kiso Sekai' we are living in a very peaceful world this time. It’s because this world is very peaceful that I can be as selfish as I can. I have a lot of selfish requests that will take everyone for a spin ♪

Interview with Fujimura Mamoru (Growth)

Q. Please tell us about the highlights of this stage play and your impressions or story behind your partnered dance.

This is my first time dancing together with Kou-kun so every day, my heart was pounding and I was freaking out. Though, when we start dancing, I don’t have the liberty to think about that (laughs). Gentle movements have a different difficulty from the fast movements, I think. I can’t afford to look messy and I can’t fail. In a lot of ways, my muscles were very sore (laughs). I will do my best to not lose to everyone!

Q. In Tsukihana, all 12 nations have their own specialties, but if you could come up with a new specialty for your own country, what would it be?

Asagi Ramen (with lots of spring onions~)

Q. Lastly, leave a short message for the fans.

This time, we’re in a very peaceful world. Meaning, there’s a lot of daily life scenes. There are a lot of ad-libs and daily jokes, too. To the point where you’ll think “Wait, this unit’s doing that, too!?” (laughs). It would be very nice if everyone laughed along with us, too ♪

If you want to support Ryota and her work, you can buy her a ko-fi right [here]. I also have my own [ko-fi] page and [commission page] linked here.

[fearsmagazine]

Interview with Director/Screenwriter MAURO IVÁN OJEDA  on his film THE FUNERAL HOME.

Argentinian director and screenwriter Mauro Iván Ojeda offers viewers a supernatural thriller with his film THE FUNERAL HOME.

Bernardo, played by Luis Machín, is an undertaker/funeral director, who runs his mortuary business on the same location as his family’s home. While part of his job is aiding the families to coupe with their loss, it seems that some of the “dearly” departed have not moved on and taken up residence in the family’s quarters. Bernardo, his wife, and daughter, manage to coupe with their “guests,” their presence adding more chaos to an already stressful home life. Things begin to spiral out of control when a darker, sinister spirit makes itself known. Bernardo turns to a local psychic, who has guided him in the past, to help his family in hopes of protecting them and removing the ghost that is terrorizing them.

Mauro Iván Ojeda is a talented filmmaker who serves up a compelling supernatural tale that is steeped in the cinematic tradition of such films as The Legend of Hell House, The Haunting, and Poltergeist. THE FUNERAL HOME is a smoldering tale that is flavored with some of traditions of Argentina that give it a fresh perspective.

We had the pleasure to ask Mauro Iván Ojeda about his film via email, as well as what he might have in the works for his next project.

FEARS: From what I could find on the internet, it appears that this is you first feature film. Is that correct? If so, why did you decide to make your debut with a horror film?

Mauro Iván Ojeda: Yes, The Funeral Home is my debut film. I like all genres, but since I was a child, and then in one of my jobs in a video club watching all the movies there, I’ve felt really attracted to the horror genre and the whole fantastic universe.

FEARS: What is or are the most important elements of a story you decide to make as a director; plot, characters, genre, budget, etc. Could you see yourself making a musical?

Mauro Iván Ojeda:  The script is a very important pillar for me; the story must be original, powerful and must really have something to tell. The characters are the heart of each story, and if the heart does not beat, there is no life: the characters are fundamental. A musical?  Yes, I would like something like The Wall by Alan Parker.

FEARS: How difficult was it to get a genre film made in Argentina?

Mauro Iván Ojeda:  In Argentina you always find yourself dealing with the difficulty of the budget, especially for genre films. There are many factors that influence, and one of them is our national currency instability, which forces you to do your best ticks with all the teams to achieve a great film that has good production standards. Genre cinema in Argentina is increasingly solid, with very interesting filmmakers, good teams in all areas, bold actors and actresses, and great films are emerging. In this case, with Del Toro Films we teamed great, they have experience with horror films that have been part of many international film festivals, and have been distributed worldwide, that added a lot to this production.

FEARS: As a storyteller, who or what films would you say are your biggest influences on THE FUNERAL HOME?

Mauro Iván Ojeda:  The films I’ve watched, some from my childhood, and that have inspired me in the universe of The Funeral Home are: Poltergeist, The Entity and some elements of The Conjuring.

FEARS: THE FUNERAL HOME has a lot of supernatural elements going right from the start. I was wondering what was the core idea that first inspired you to write the screenplay?

Mauro Iván Ojeda:  The core idea of the script starts from the premise that the funeral home business that shares the same space with the family's home, slowly engulfs everything until the funeral business and the house become the same. Human relationships and family bounds are dying, inert, withering, coffins piled up as household furniture, scattered wreaths, the presence of corpses roaming the house and the naturalized interaction of the family with them, all that opened a door for me to the world of the “uncanny,” defined by Freud as: incidents where a familiar thing or event is encountered in an unsettling or eerie context, in which the familiar turns strange, or strange turns familiar, or both realities in the same context

FEARS: With all these subplots in the story did you decide to not to explore them more as a result of budget or running time?

Mauro Iván Ojeda:  You choose the points of view and where to focus, those are decisions, obviously, putting in action the plot in a shooting schedule affects those decisions, sometimes, you have very little time to deliberate. In the case of THE FUNERAL HOME, there are many subplots that reinforce and strengthen the story, just as there are subtle elements that you can detect or not as a spectator.

FEARS: Is this story over for you or if you have the resources would you make another film set in this universe, with these characters? Because it seems like you have so much material here what are your thoughts in terms of long format like a series?

Mauro Iván Ojeda:  It happens a lot to me, that people who watched the film, tell me that they would like to know about the beginnings of that house, how did all began. They tell me that they would like to see that world from its genesis, or, that I should place the second part a few years in the future and know what happens with this and that character. For now I don’t have in my projects to write something about LA FUNERARIA, but I don’t rule out that I can explore other formats such as series, or a second part.

FEARS: You have a great location; it’s like another character in the film. Did you find exactly what you were looking for, and other then the portable toilet, did you have to add/build anything to it?

Mauro Iván Ojeda:  It took a huge search to find the ideal house, several months, almost a year, until one day I visited this house that would be the definitive one. I examined the house several times and it had everything I needed to tell the story. But it was not easy. There were several elements that were difficult to put on the set: the portable toilet (which seems to be the more obvious), but also there were a lot of coffins, there were about ten, and some were turned into flowerpots, then, painting the entire house and the location with the red lines that divide the area for the family, and creating the area for the presences with all its elements. All that had its degree of difficulty and cost.    

FEARS: There are some great scary moments. There are a lot of what I assume are particle effects. I’m a fan of particle effects. Was that choice budget related, you didn’t have a CGI artist available to you, or, maybe, it was something else like schedule?

Mauro Iván Ojeda:  There are many effects throughout the film, it was a nice challenge. There is a mix with VFX, and on set actions to make them look more real. It was my decision; I am one of those who believe that the special effect must be realistic, because if it looks fake it takes you out of history.

FEARS: I loved the daughter character, Irina, and the actress who played her. How hard was it to cast the part?

Mauro Iván Ojeda:  Camila Vaccarini, the actress who plays Irina, was a great find. A casting was held, and then hours and hours spent analyzing footage and rehearsing scenes. Every time I saw Camila, it convinced me more. She had the talent and that high level of rigorousness and performance that her character required, from screaming and chasing, to enormous dramatic challenges.

FEARS: Irina adds a bit of comic relief to the film. Was that something that was in the script or something that developed once that part was cast?

Mauro Iván Ojeda:  The script had small hints of humor, very dosed, and Camila added certain characteristics to the character of Irina, that added a lot to the film.

FEARS: With THE FUNERAL HOME completed and being released, do you have other projects you are working on, anything you might already be in production on?

Mauro Iván Ojeda:  While reaching our world release date in US and Canada, and waiting for the release of THE FUNERAL HOME in Argentina and other territories, I continue creating. I’m already engaged in two new projects. They are a crossover of horror and fantastic genres, written by me, and we are in developing stage with producers. This is a particular and difficult year due to the pandemic, but little by little we are advancing as much as possible. I hope soon I can get back to you with some news.

THE FUNERAL HOME Review: https://bit.ly/3oKF7bq

THE FUNERAL HOME Trailer: https://youtu.be/nnWvVwKJG3s

Interview by Joseph Mauceri

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Love, Maybe? {36}**

Chris Evans X Reader OFC Vixen Giovanni

Warning: Cursing, Plot, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn, Tease, NSFW, SMUT

Word Count: 6.3K

Summary: After a night of drunkenness you wake up next to warm, hot as hell body, a migraine and no memory of the night before. When you come to realize that the hot body belongs to none other than Hollywood’s golden boy Chris Evans you freak out. As events unfold you become even more panicked to find out you got married in your drunken haze. What else is there to do but get it annulled, right? Before walking away, you share one more night of molten kisses and passion. Three years later you are still living with the repercussions of your brash decisions, but the surprises don’t stop there. The past has a way of coming back and have you questioning is this fate that you’ve been running from, hell could it have been love, maybe?

NOTE: **Italic texts is an inner Vixen thought. Bold Italic texts is an inner Chris thought. Recommended listening when indicated by the musical note 🎵: 1st: Pssy & Wine by: Mike Champion and 2nd: All On Me by: Sean Paul  

**Loosley Edited/Proofread**

***Interactive***

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊❤❤️

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

Chapter 36: Seize The Day

 -Vixen-

 Singing along to the sounds of Lauryn Hill’s version of Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You, you danced around and finished preparing breakfast. This was one of your favorite songs and today you were feeling it.

 “Oh pretty baby, don’t let me down I pray.”

 You rocked your hips and used the tongs as a microphone and hit the high note as you turned to see Chris leaning against the wall with a smile on his face.

 “Shit!”

“Wow, serenade and breakfast.” You pinched your lips and turned back to the stove to finish the sausages to hide your embarrassment.

 “Morning.” You felt him wrap his arms around you and kiss your cheek then your neck.

 “Good morning,” you whispered with a smile.

“Mmm, it smells great, it’s been quite a while since anyone made me breakfast,” Chris added.

 “Liar, I’ve made breakfast almost every morning since we’ve been in Boston.”

 He smiled and turned you to him. “Wow, liar is a bit harsh. Take it back.” You smiled and shook your head.

 “Nope. You take it back. I’ve been feeding you well.” his smile was wide as he dropped his lips to your collar.

 “Oh yes you have, very, very well,” he answered placing kisses across your collar and chest. You moaned and quickly got lost. His lips felt amazing. Before you knew it he was stooped before you and kissing your stomach and quickly making his way to the apex of your thighs. His tongue was a weapon and he knew just how to use it.

 You groaned and enjoyed the pleasure he gave before you remembered the plan for the day.

 “Mmm, Chris. Stop.��� As soon as the words were said he pulled away from you.

 “I’m sorry.”

 “No, no, it’s okay, nothing like that. I just have a shoot to get to,” you explained.

 “A shoot?”

 “Yes, because I had to come here for work, Kassius rearranged the promo shoot for here. I have to be there in an hour which means we only have time to eat and go.”

 “Oh, okay. What’s for breakfast?”

 “Uh, waffles, sausages, some fruit, and chive scrambled eggs. Don’t tell anyone I stole some ingredients last night.” His smile was perfect, you loved it. Pushing it to the side you put a plate in front of him on the counter.

 “Thank you.” You hopped onto the counter beside him and began eating.

 It was interesting how all this felt as natural as breathing like you’ve been doing this for the last three years and no time had passed at all. You wondered what he thought of your life here. You knew bringing him here would mean he’d see the restaurant, see the house and it would be like confirmation that you’d led this life without him, on purpose. You wondered if he was angry and was hiding it.

 Last night there was no anger in him. He was gentle and amazing, everything you’d remembered him to be. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel anything last night. How could you not especially with that song playing? Occasionally you listened to it when you couldn’t sleep and now he knew it, he knew just how much you thought about Vegas and him. you didn’t feel embarrassed then to tell him the truth, but now you felt exposed and you hated it.

 After breakfast, you went into the shower and used it to get your thoughts and emotions under control. It was quite the feat because you were everywhere but after almost forty minutes you managed. When you met him in the foyer he was dressed and ready for the day. The two of you got into the rental car and drove through the city to the address of the shoot. He asked plenty of questions about the area when you pointed out Ella’s preschool he had a lot more of them. His interest in your life made you feel good.

 When you arrived at the location of the shoot it was time to get to work. The photographer and one of the guys from the team were there to convey just the look Kassius wanted to achieve. You listened in and corrected them when you heard something that just wasn’t you. You wanted to remain true to who you were and not give in to this fake image, you weren’t Hollywood and you would never pretend to be.

 The first look was your chef’s and kitchen attire that you’d chosen for the new restaurant, complete with a chef’s hat. You smiled for the pictures and tried to listen to the instruction for poses but you felt so out of place, so awkward that you were sure that it was coming through in the photos.

 “Okay Vixen, how about you do some poses you normally do in the kitchen,” Albee the photographer suggested.

 “Uh, poses in a kitchen? I don’t pose in my kitchen. I cook,” you announced. Those around smiled.

 “Fair, I walked into that one, but what are some actions that you do in the kitchen? Can you do those?”

 You looked around the set and walked over to the kitchen area and tried to imitate chopping without a knife then tried to stir a pot without an actual pot to stir. You felt ridiculous and after a few minutes, Chris came to stand beside the photographer. He then whispered something to him.

 “All right let’s take five everyone,” Albee announced.

 Chris walked over to you with an amused look on his face.

 “On a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst how bad did that look?” He smiled and took a deep breath.

 “Well, I don’t want to lie, so eight.” You nodded and sighed out feeling frustrated with the day.

 “Okay look, this is new for you. you’re used to being in the kitchen whipping up incredible dishes being in front of a camera and doing this is weird. I get it, we all get it but you’re overthinking just a bit. I do this way more than I like. It usually helps to make it as natural as possible,” Chris explained.

 “And how do you suggest I do that?”

 “I am glad you asked. First, loosen up you have no need to be self-conscious or nervous, you’re gorgeous and the camera loves you. Put yourself in natural positions, think of it as acting.”

 “I am not an actor.”

 “Neither am I, but don’t tell anyone. Just put yourself in a mindset. You are playing a chef, think of their traits, characteristics, emulate those. When I watched you in the kitchen last night you demanded attention, you were authoritative, confident, controlled, and efficient. You can easily portray those to a camera. Think of poses that show just that.”

 You were hearing him and everything he said was good advice, but you also were focused way too closely on his mouth. It would be so easy to get lost in watching him. The way his mouth moved and then his expressions to convey the meaning of his words were poetic.

 “Try it. I promise it’ll feel easier.”

 “Okay. Thanks.”

 “Anytime.” Chris walked back to stand next to the photographer then he gave you a thumbs up. You nodded and took a few relaxing breaths and went through his advice once more in your head.

 “Ready Vixen?”

 “Yep.”

 You crossed your arms and gave a smirk then remixed it and planted them on your hips and flicked out your shoulder to slightly look over it.

 “Nice, great shots. Keep em’ coming,” Albee critiqued. You felt some of the nerves fall away as you got a little more comfortable. That comfort had you settling into this role that Chris laid out. You glanced at him and he was nodded with a smile of approval. It felt nice to have it.

 Fifteen minutes later, you were posed on top of the kitchen counter like some pin-up model doing role play.

 “All right Vixen, we’ve got some good ones here. Let’s try something different, follow me,” Albee said.

 You hopped off the counter and followed him to a neighboring room that had a real-life kitchen and plenty of things scattered about.

“Uh, what’s this?”

 “Chris brought up something good, you can’t fake what you do. What you do has to be done to be captured, so everything you need to make a dish. As you make it I’m going to snap your pictures. It’ll be real-life art,” Albee explained.

 You looked to Chris who shrugged as if it was nothing. He did this and acted like it was just something regular, something that didn’t need attention.

 “Ready?”

 You nodded and walked to the kitchen and surveilled your surroundings then went to work. This you could do because it felt as easy as breathing, you didn’t have to think about it or plan steps ahead of time. You could hear Albee’s camera clicking but it was easy to ignore it, he worked around you and your actions. There were quite a few comedic flubs that Albee said not to worry about they looked endearing on camera and would work well.

 Halfway through you’d forgotten you were being pictured and now filmed and you were just enjoying what you loved to do. Soon you’d drawn the attention of those who were on set and in the building. They shouted out question after question about the steps you took or how you did something and it turned into a live cooking show.

 About forty minutes in all and you were finished. With the final product in front of you, you finished the shoot with a few shots. You felt in your zone like this was you and not an act.

 “Great work Vixen, my god we got some great shots and footage. You did great.”

 “Thank you. this wasn’t that bad.”

 Albee laughed and patted your arm before he walked off. You looked around for Chris but didn’t see him anywhere. You heard a “psst” behind you and saw him peeking out from behind a wall. As you approached you saw he wore a bright smile.

 “What’re you doing?”

 “I didn’t want to be seen by the people who came in. I wanted this to be just about you.”

 “So you hid back here the entire time?”

 “Not the entire time, maybe thirty minutes. It’s no big deal. You were great. How’d it feel?”

 You quickly pressed your lips to his giving him a sweet kiss that quickly turned into a sultry one. Chris had one hand on your hip and the other cupping your cheek as you intensified the kiss. You wrapped one arm around his neck and just enjoyed it. When you pulled away his eyes were closed.

 “Wow.” Chris looked at you with complete shock and a dumbfounded expression. You pinched your lips and looked down.

 “What was that for?”

 “Uh, thank you. You—you did this, and I appreciate it.” He didn’t speak for a few moments; he just stared at you and gently stroked your cheek with the back of his hand.

 “I’d do anything for you Vixen.” His words hit you like a ton of bricks and several moments passed with the two of you just staring at each other.

 “Excuse me—Vixen?” You stepped away at the sound of Albee’s assistant’s voice.

 “Albee wants to know if you want to see some of the shots.”

 “Yeah, definitely. Thank you.” Without a word to Chris, you walked off to Albee.

 The shots were amazing, and they made you look better than you actually did. You were more than pleased with them and knew Kassius would be too. You mentally checked off another thing on your to-do list and felt excitement bubble with how close this all was to being finished.

 When you and Chris stepped out onto the sun-drenched sidewalk you took a deep breath. “All right, work is done for the day. I have an idea. Let me show you my San Francisco. I’ll take you to a few places I go often, and we’ll grab lunch in there at some point,” you suggested.

 “Sounds good. Lead the way.” He slipped his sunglasses on and tipped his hat low securing the incognito celebrity signature fashion and the two of you were off.

 Five minutes later, you were on a cable car. You were standing on the side holding on to the bar with Chris behind you with one hand on the bar and the other holding you around the waist. “The likelihood of me falling off is slim,” you assured.

 “Better safe than sorry, there’s a little girl who would kill me if anything happened to her favorite person in the world.” You smiled and allowed him to hold you close, you didn’t mind, you actually liked it.

 When you got off you brought him into your favorite bakery. Once he walked inside he moaned. At the counter, he damn near pressed his face to the display case as he admired every treat there. You took care of ordering one of each of the eight things you, Ella and Nex loved here. Once they were ready you were off again. As you walked and talked you ate, it was the San Franciscan way.

 Next, you took him to Telegraph Hill and to some of the famous stone step paths in the city. You talked about a variety of things as you walked toward the steps you knew that would take to you the waterside. He told you stories about his childhood, his siblings, stories about his first few years in Hollywood, stories about those he was closest to in the business and even how he’d med them. It was enlightening. Occasionally he’d initiate contact either through a securing hand at your back, or an assistive hand down a steep decline, every time it made you feel like a girly girl and gave you butterflies.

 Once you’d made it to one of the waterside locations where you pointed out Alcatraz. He was able to use the telescope there to find it. That was when he proceeded to list off a few impressive facts about the place, surprising you in the process with his broad knowledge. After his near five-minute lecture, he stopped and the most adorkable expression washed over him, it was one of embarrassment and humor. It was perfect and gave you a sight of a new side. You sat at the waterside for some time and enjoyed the smell of the water, the sun, and the breeze through the trees. It was a beautiful afternoon. Chris would brush your hair from your face often. When you felt him take your hand it made you smile like an idiot which made him smile like an even bigger idiot and you were two idiots holding hands smiling.

 When you took him to the best seafood restaurant in town the two of you did not downplay how much you ate. You ordered everything on the menu and plenty of beer to go with it as did he and the two of you pigged out without an ounce of shame. It felt good to just relax and not have there be any awkwardness or tension between you. It felt like the night in LA when you’d had tacos together, comfortable.

 The sun had set by the time you made it to your last stop, a chocolatier. Turns out he has a mean sweet tooth that he likes to keep under wraps. While there, he tried almost all of their seventy variations of chocolate treats one after the other. You had no wonder where Ella got her sweets obsession, neither of them had any chill. A few times he’d feed you a few pieces as if it didn’t take a thought. He even finished something you’d had a bite of or wiped chocolate from the corner of your mouth and licked his finger afterward. By the time you left the shop, you were holding hands and slowly strolling to the cable car. On the car, he stood behind you with both arms wrapped around you whispering into your ear with his chin on your shoulder. You had no idea how you’d gotten here, but you liked it here.

 When you were home you and Chris split up. It allowed you time to shower and check emails and respond to Kassius and other work obligations. After an hour, you’d finished applications for the new restaurant, chosen your kitchen staff and most of your wait staff and signed off on most of the vendors before you got caught up talking to Ella. She told you all about the great things she’d been doing with her grandmothers and cousins. She sounded like she was having a blast and barely missed you or Chris. After promising her you’d be back tomorrow she asked to talk to Chris. You found him in the living room doing some work of his own. Once he heard her voice his face lit up.

 You went back to your room to give him some space. When you were in your closet a great idea hit you. When you turned Chris was walking in.

 “She doesn’t sound like she misses me at all.”

 You snorted and laughed then patted his shoulder. “Aww, you’ll get over it.”

 “I don’t know if I will.”

 “I have a great idea. This is your last night here, how about I take you to one of my favorite places.”

 “What kind of place is this?”

 “Uh, it’s a bit of a dancehall,” you informed. Chris’ eyebrows shot up.

 “Dancehall? As in club?”

 “Not a traditional club, it has more of an underground vibe to it. not many people know about it, the music is good, and the drinks are strong. Nexus and I like to go there every once in a while when I’m not too swamped.”

 “So, I’ll see you in your natural environment?”

 You laughed and gently pushed him. “Natural environment? What am I some endangered species?”

 Chris pulled you flush against him with a wide smile on his face then wrapped his arms around you. “Of course, you are. You’re a rare unicorn, mother of unicorns,” he teased. The two of you laughed together until he softly kissed you once then twice and teased your bottom lip. You kissed him back and allowed him to press you against your opened door.

 “So, do you want to?”

 Chris nodded and kissed your nose. “I do, I want to do everything with you.” You smiled and tried not to blush. The way he easily made you feel like a schoolgirl was crazy.

 “Okay. So get ready.” You pulled away and bit your bottom lip, an action he imitated. Neither of you moved again and you felt the air in the room change. You knew he felt it too.

 “Thirty minutes?”

 You nodded and walked away toward your closet trying to create space between you to prevent the inevitable.

An hour and a half later, you walked inside the dancehall with Chris close behind you. One hand was on your waist as you held the other. The music was loud, and the air was hazy from the mixture of smoke from numerous substances. Off to one corner, you saw a group doing hookah, and nearby a few were smoking blunts and cigarettes. The combination of scents wasn’t unpleasant. As you passed people you noticed a few guys who looked you over before looking to Chris. His hand on your waist tightened possessively.

 At a small table in a far-right corner you sat and crossed your legs, Chris’ eyes immediately fell to your exposed thighs.

 “That outfit is bringing plenty of attention,” shouted over the music. You smiled and shrugged.

 “Is it?” He nodded and scooted closer to you stretched his arm around your shoulder and whispered to you.

 “Trying to make me jealous?” You smiled and locked eyes with him.

 “I didn’t know I had the power to make you jealous.”

 “You have more power than you know,” he whispered back. The look that you shared stole your breath and made your heart race. Everything around you faded and neither of you noticed anything or anyone.

 “Eh-em!”

 Before you was one of the bottle girls with a smile on her face. Chris dipped his head down and hid it behind your shoulder just a bit.

 “Hi.”

 “What can I getcha?”

 “Two bourbons, double,” you answered.

 She nodded and walked off but not before glancing back at Chris.

 “I don’t think she recognized you,” you assured.

 The music changed to a modern day soca hit and everyone around you livened up and began dancing and chanting along with it.

 “Do you dance?”

 Chris smiled and went back to your ear. “I think you know the answer to that.”

 You remembered your time in Vegas, you’d been in a club together and danced together. He had rhythm. That coupled with his charm made him a great dancer, although you may have been so drunk and horny anything was good to you.

 “I was drunk as hell; everything was great that night.”

 He smiled and nodded then stood and held his hand out. You looked at it then him and took it. Chris pulled you to him and then brought you toward an even darker corner. Once there he began bouncing to the beat trying to coax you into joining him. slowly you began dancing with him and it didn’t take any time at all for the two of you to begin to enjoy yourselves. You were right he had rhythm and was such a goofball that even if he messed up he didn’t care.

 You took a break and went back to your table to enjoy your drinks and some conversation. The energy in the club was great and you loved that it didn’t get overpacked, there was a max occupancy of a hundred or so and even then it wasn’t as if everyone was all over each other. The music changed several times and went between reggae to soca to sultry RnB and it was all working together with the drinks you had.

 A few hours later, you were as loose as you were going to get, and you grabbed his hand and lead him to a dark corner that wasn’t occupied. Halfway there Chris pulled you back into him and softly kissed your neck. The music changed as soon as you got to your destination and you couldn’t have planned it better. The sounds of 🎵Mike Champion surrounded you. You turned to Chris and locked eyes with him and began swaying your body. He didn’t pretend not to look at you, his eyes slowly raked over your body before his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

 The song was one of your favorites and it always put you in the mind frame where your thoughts easily flowed to him. With him in front of you, you decided to tease him. Turning your back to him Chris squeezed your hip and stood there as you swayed and ground your hips onto him. you could hear his breathing change and felt one of his hands trail to the top of one of your thighs. You leaned your head back onto his shoulder and then you felt his teeth latch onto your earlobe and gently bite down.

 “Mmm.”

“You like that?” His voice was crazy deep and it opened the door of your desire. That was all it took.

 “Tell me.” It was an order and one you had no problem obeying.

 “Yes.” Chris kissed then sucked the sensitive part of your neck and began swaying with you keeping up with the pace you set. You couldn’t believe that you were horny in this club from nothing but his voice and a kiss to the neck.

 Chris’ hand snaked around to your backside but slid down to the back of your thigh. He slowly felt your skin and just as he was about to kiss your neck again the song changed. You could have shot the DJ for it, but when you realized what song he’d changed it to you could have kissed him. 🎵You turned to Chris and draped your arms around his neck. In the same breath, he pulled you on him. The two of you swayed together and kept to the beat. With your forehead just below his nose, you kept your eyes down and focused on the words of the song and how quickly you were fell under his spell.

 Chris’ hands on your lower back squeezed the skin there before he moved them to your hips to squeeze again. A soft groan escaped your lips, a groan you know he heard. Chancing a look at him, you found his eyes already on you. the temptation between you reached an almost critical level. Chris took your hands and spun you, so your back was to his chest. You took the opportunity to whine against him making sure to roll your hips slowly. When you heard him suck in a breath you smirked to yourself.

You dipped down just a little and let your ass do all the talking. You felt his undivided attention and from the quick glance you got of him from over your shoulder he knew just what you were doing. When you stood up to press your back against his chest Chris moved your hair to the side allowing you to feel his breath on your neck by your ear.

 “Cause I'm searchin’ just to find a toppa top girl, and you lookin' fine. I love that shape and that design, gimme your body anytime. And I know you hear me clear, girl, you gotta know I got no fear. And you know I will be prepared if you give me your body anywhere.”

 Your head snapped back to look at him, he had an amused grin on his face. “I may be white but I’m not vanilla.”

 You laughed loud and shook your head and sunk back into him again only this time adding more of a belly dancing flare to it, Shakira was not the only one who could do it. When Chris’ hands rested at your pelvis every urge wanted you to grab his hand and put it where you wanted it. When you turned to him you could see he was struggling with his desires as well. The look on his face was masked but only just a little, you knew just what he wanted and you were going to tease the hell out of him before you gave it to him.

 “C'mon now let’s go, where nobody knows. You and me alone, you and me together. Wanna feel it in my soul, baby take control. Love when you, oh, make it last forever,” you sang along while staring into his eyes.

 There could have been the biggest fight going on around you but neither of you would have known it with how wrapped up with each other you were. Song after song played but the two of you only had eyes for one another and the bubble you were in only got smaller and smaller.

 When you made it back to your house once the front door shut you were on him. You each peeled off your clothes and threw them around not caring where they landed. When they crashed into something the two of you giggled like drunk kids. Your lips and teeth clashed but neither of you cared you just giggled your way through the hall until Chris carried you up the stairs. He stumbled and lowered you to the steps and hovered over you. his lips kissed, licked and sucked a path down your exposed skin. When he got to your waist he didn’t stop instead he went to your core and placed a suctioned kiss right on your clit.

 “Fuck!”

 “Like that?”

 “Mmm-hm.” Your pitch was high, and you sounded desperate, you didn’t care.

 “God, you’re irresistible!”

 Chris scooped you up and scurried up the remainder of the steps to your bedroom where he dropped you on the bed. You laughed while you bounced then sat up to help him undress. As he worked with kicking off his shoes, you busied yourself with peeling off his pants. Chris then took over and kicked them off and jumped onto you. Your laughter mingled together. Chris then slithered down your body to pull off your underwear and again he kissed your clit and went to work.

 He didn’t take his time, his mission was to get you off and it was evident with how expertly he commanded your body to do what he wanted. After only a few minutes you felt your orgasm take over and you clamped his head between your thighs as you rode the wave. He easily pried them apart and pressed them to the bed. The strength he exhibited made you want him even more. You rolled onto him and kissed down his chest across his abs and went right for your prize.

 As you were going to grab him his length spasmed and nudged you right on your nose. That cracked the two of you up and you both broke out in a fit of laughter especially when he apologized.

 “He has a mind of his own.”

 You couldn’t stop laughing. Eventually, you did though and wrapped your lips around him. His groan was deep and guttural. It made goosebumps scatter across your skin, you loved it. Slowly you bobbed your head up and down his need. Each time your lips wrapped around his tip he whimpered and grabbed the sheets beside him.

 “Christ, your mouth feels incredible.”

 You smirked and swirled your tongue around him. making him shiver.

 “Does it? Do you like it?”

 “So much,” he whispered, again you smirked.

 “Do you want me to keep going?”

 Chris quickly nodded his head with his jaw dropped. “Yes, please.”

 Amusement filled you and you continued pleasing him. Everything you did had him grunting, moaning and bucking his hips up sending his full length further down your throat. Your moans joined his and soon his hands sunk into your hair and he began guiding your head. When you picked up the pace he angled his head back and grunted and sucked in a breath.

 “Fuck Vixen. Slow—slow baby.”

 The sound of the endearment made your heart flutter and had you speeding up rather than going slow. When his grunts turned to loud whimpers you pulled your head back and stared at him. When he looked to you, you smiled and crooked your finger to him.

“Come ‘ere.” Chris slid to the edge of the bed and kissed your stomach up to your breast and sucked a nipple before he kissed you with urgency. His hands squeezed the flesh of your ass and he pulled a moan from you before you turned and slowly sank down onto him.

 “Aaah.” He sighed and held you there, so you didn’t move. You enjoyed the feel of him filling and stretching you to capacity. Slowly you whined your hips circling him. he bit your shoulder harshly then kissed it soothing the ache.

 When you began bouncing on him you looked over your shoulder, locked eyes with him and enjoyed how helpless he looked. It made you feel powerful but you also couldn’t ignore how good he felt. After a few minutes, Chris began pumping up to meet each of your bounces sending him further inside of you.

 “Fuck, yes Chris.”

 That was all he needed to hold your hips where they were to plow into you setting a heart-racing pace. Your moans fell from you one after the other as did his. You were so close to losing your shit and he must have known it because when his fingers made contact with your clit you flung your head back and gave him full control.

 “You feel so good, you make me feel so good,” Chris whispered. He then stood with you and pushed you onto the bed and angled your ass in the air then continued his thrusts. The new angle was all you needed for your release to break free. You screamed then felt his hand at the back of your neck holding tightly. Another orgasm washed over you even before the first finished.

 “Mmm, come all over this dick Vix. Come for me.”

 You hadn’t seen this man since Vegas, the man who got off on control and orders, the man who had a clear dominance kink, the man who had the power to make you come over seven times in one night. You gripped the sheets because you knew it was a matter of time before you came again. Chris’ hands wrapped around your hair and gently pulled as he slammed into you to the hilt. As expected you came again and clenched around him. Chris hovered over your back and kissed a path up to your shoulder then bit down.

 “Mmm, God you’re gonna make me come.”

 “Come for me,” you ordered.

 “You want me to come?” His strokes slowed but the depth of which he reached increased. Your jaw dropped, words failed you as your toes curled and body shook with your fourth release of the night.

 “I can’t hear you, Vix. Do—you—want—me—to—come?” With each word, he enunciated he slammed into you. By the time he slammed into you once more he ground against you sending his cock to touch every wall and involuntarily pull yet another orgasm from you.

 “Shit! No! Fuck me.”

 “No please?”

 “Pretty please.” You felt his smile on your ear then he gave you just what you asked for—the pounding of your life.

 Your screams echoed around the room and mingled with his loud grunts and groans. The room filled with the combined scent of your sex and it was a hedonistic scent, one that fueled the fire of desire between you. By the time Chris finally came, you were exhausted. You could barely move let alone keep your eyes open.

 ~~~~~~~~~

 -Chris-

 You were going to be the death of him. He’d buried himself so deep in you he’d made you come over and over. He should have been tired, but he wasn’t. He should have passed out after he came but he couldn’t. He had way too much going on in his head and his body wanted more of you. It had never been like this with anyone. He could easily control himself but with you that control was nonexistent. He didn’t even know what it felt like. You were his addiction, temptation, and relief.

 Ten minutes after both of your breathing had returned to normal he knew he had to tell you. He took a deep breath but hesitated yet again. He was afraid, he knew that by now. He knew there was a fifty-fifty chance that you’d be upset and that you’d want to proceed with the divorce. He knew he could lose you—again. He didn’t want to, but he had to face the music.

 “Vix.”

 A soft moan rumbled on his chest. Closing his eyes, he began.

 “I have a confession, a confession that I should have told you weeks ago. A confession that may come as a shock. First I have to tell you what a huge mistake I made three years ago. What I said to you—there is no excuse for it. I’m sorry. I know I’ve said it before, but I have to say it again. I’ve regretted it for years; I still regret it. I wanted to find you and went back and forth if I should or shouldn’t. I didn’t have the courage to find you really. I was so ashamed of myself and how I’d treated you, I was such an asshole. Uugh.”

 He hit his head on the headboard and hated himself all over again. It was his words that had him missing the last three years. His words, his fault.

 “Since finding you again I’ve—I’ve been reminded of the things I felt. The things I felt, I ignored and buried. I was not prepared for you or what I felt then. I ran from it and ended up right back there. I think about you—a hell of a lot, I dream about you. I want things with you I’ve never wanted with anyone else, I want things I didn’t know I wanted until you. You’re—you’re everything I’ve ever wanted. I really, really—like you. You have no idea how much. I want to start fresh, I want to build a life, a new one. A few weeks ago, I found out that there was a mix up with the original divorce papers we signed. Sherman—Sherman went through a personal ordeal and the paperwork got lost and was never filed. We’re still married.”

 He waited for you to say something but when you didn’t he continued. “I know it’s a shock and probably an unwelcomed one, but maybe it’s a blessing in disguise. Maybe it’s a sign that we shouldn’t be divorced, that we’re supposed to be in each other’s lives. Maybe what God intended three years ago was to bring us together and he’s not letting either of us off the hook.”

 Still, you didn’t speak.

 “Vixen?” He glanced down at you and saw you were fast asleep. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” He dropped his head back and closed his eyes in disbelief he’d gone through all of it only for you not to hear him.

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

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