#i could talk about how good oliver's design is for like an hour straight i s2g. trying to capture it myself made me appreciate it even more

[alphyser]

Random things in my MHA DR about 1-A!

Mineta was originally part of the class, however during the quirk apprehension test at the start, he got the lowest score and that Aizawa noticed him acting creepy so he acted on his threat to expel someone and gave Mineta the boot. That way, it'd also serve as a warning to others.

Mineta was actually hilarious though on first day. Actually made me crack up a lot, especially since I also have a dirty sense of humor. But then he he tried to peek under Yaomomo's skirt and the illusion was shattered. (For a moment I thought he could've been great </3)

I unironically voted for Sero during the class rep elections. Him and Yaomomo had a tie and he dropped out of the nominations saying that Yaoyorozu should be the vice-representative for 1-A over him. (Sero is such a sweet soul in my DR.)

Bakugo Katsuki, despite having fashion designers for parents, only ever dresses in the most basic clothing. Black compression shirts and sweatpants are his go to and when he feels like it he sometimes wears graphic tees and jeans. But he also criticizes others a lot on their fashion sense. (He one time straight up scolded Mina for an hour because she wore a shade of yellow that didn't go with her skin tone.)

Sato, without fail, will always have a box of some type of sweets on him. Man is a god send. He brings like this little lunchbag and he has two tupperwares of sweets. One time he had these donuts and each of them were a cool new flavor I've never seen before, like a raspberry donut with candied bacon, it sounds gross but he makes it taste good somehow.

Most Sundays, Aoyama usually goes out to visit this stray kitten in a park near U.A. He feeds all the time too. He has little cat treats in his bag always. He doesn't even like cats that much, but he sees himself in the kitty. Weak and can't do anything about it (Aoyama deserves better.)

Sero makes the MEANEST avocado salads ever. Like actually godsent. It's avocados, tomatoes, red onions, bell peppers, cucumbers, cilantro, parsley, garlic, black beans, jalapeno, lemon juice, olive oil, salt and white pepper, and queso fresco all tossed together. (Yes, I memorized the recipe because I wanted to make it in my CR 😭)

Oddly enough, Koda sleeps really loudly. Like he snores, talks in his sleep, grinds his teeth, even clears his throat sometimes. He fell asleep in the common room once on a sat evening watching Princess and the Frog with Tsu and my god, everyone in the first floor could hear it, even on the second floor only it was a little more muffled.

Iida dresses wrong. Not bad, wrong. He doesn't dress ugly, in fact he's one of the most well dressed in 1-A. The issue is, he never knows what outfit for when so he either always ends up overdressed or underdressed. We went out to get groceries and he was wearing a first date outfit (He looked fine asf but like for groceries?? 😭)

I don't know how it happened but for some reason, Monoma and Yaomomo are friends. Like not frenemies or just acquaintances. Like real actual friends. They hang out sometimes and gossip with Kendo. He even tones down the 1-A hate passion canon in her presence, it's actually amazing to see.

[pluralthey]

have you ever introduced izzy’s alters here before? if not, could you show or talk a bit more about them? also, is there any reason why izzy sees herself as herself (mostly) in her head while felix sees themself as a little plush dude

dude i just spent a fucking hour answering this ask and tumblr decided to eat the entire post so sorry if i'm brusque about this.

this is izzi, she's the host of. izzi. she's a composite of 6 alters who integrated about half a decade prior and operate like 6 guys in a trenchcoat on a shared desire for power and control over the system using a hierarchy to resolve conflicts. not a subsystem, this is One Big Slime who used to be 6 Smaller Slimes.

the integrated alters:

this is 5150, the guy who functions as the head of the trenchcoat. it loves chaos and has a nasty habit of holding grudges. it's also incredibly weak without integrative support and has a lot to lose if the psyche becomes too unstable and consequently has a lot of motivation to, ironically, provide order and fairness between the integrative parts.

this is shivaree, first alter to integrate with 5150. she has a lot of influence over izzi's endgame personality as you might guess from how similar her appearance is. she was here for a good time not a long time and she loved fun, usually acquired through novelty. she was bubbly and social.

this is baby. baby was a psychosis sink, so, young, battered by psychotic symptoms constantly, and non-verbal. fourth to be integrated.

this is "the worm," although he went by like idk fucking oliver or something while he was hosting. sadboy, to izzi's integrated psyche he most provides some kind of moral compass because you can't feel like a bad person without one.

there were 2 more i never bothered to design, a skeleton edgelord (the face cutter) and a shadow the hedgehog introject, who had similar personalities, including their anger issues.

onto other alters who currently exist in izzi's system.

this is diesel. he's a composite of two protectors who integrated with each other instead of 5150 and he's tanky enough to step toe-to-toe with her when she's being a moron in a life-threatening way. diesel will ONLY front when he feels like his physical safety is on the line, but may do so before Literally Everything Is On Fire. rest is for the best babeyyy

this is LG. she's a little and she slides between ages 5 to like 13 or 14. she is a land before time fictive and she fucking loves dinosaurs so much. she fronts, y'know, whenever. she was Big Sleepy (dormant) while izzi was going through the process of integration, and is therefore not integrated. it isn't quite impossible to upset her but if you manage to do it the consequences are catastrophic.

these two are paired together even though they function separately and have very different personalities.

quinn is a textbook inner self helper/overseer, very hands-off, very aware of the system's lore and overall condition. they're a factive. plants are to them what dinosaurs are to LG.

malcolm is izzi's co-host. i would say you'd see them at least once per month if you were in contact with izzi every day. her longer term partners recognize malcolm (and LG) but she's told them to just shut the door on malcolm's face if they ever notice them fronting. they are a split from quinn and all of those bad little emotions that would make an overseer less rational got packed away into malcolm instead without any of the memories to even make sense of them. malcolm's existence happened after the period of intense integrative therapy for izzi, so they are not integrated with her. izzi sees malcolm as a symbol of failure on her part (even though they are Literally the only alter in the system who DIDN'T evade integration in some way, just straight up didn't exist while the therapy was happening), and the weakest link, consequently often using them like a punching bag. she will sometimes inexplicably veer to being friendly with them, but malcolm's disdain for her is a constant.

[silvereyes1]

love at first sight (oliver wood)

personally, i think this trope is absolute bull but eh its whatever

not proof read, might be bad or not lol

 All the girls in your dorm were scurrying around getting ready for the quidditch match that was about to be held in a few hours. “Where are my socks?!” you heard Angelina complain and crouch down to look under the several beds in the large room. Ignoring all the commotion going on around, you wrapped your Gryffindor scarf loosely around your neck stopping some of the cold getting into your skin. “Well, I’m done getting ready.” You turned away from the mirror next to your bed realising no one else was done getting ready and your shoulders slumped, “Let’s go or we’ll be late!”  

After a few more irritating minutes you and your friends had finally exited the Gryffindor Tower making your way to the field which took even longer. Usually, you wouldn’t go to quidditch games however considering it was the finals you decided to reluctantly go after your group of friends practically begged you to. You barely knew any of the Quidditch team expect from the infamous Weasley twins, Fred and George, the clowns of the whole school and the one and only Harry Potter. All of your group of friends sat that the front row waiting patiently and making conversation since you got there earlier than expected because of your persistent complaining about being late. “I’m not even going to lie but our quidditch team is like so hot...!” Angelina said hitting the wooden barrier grabbing the attention of some younger years around you. Before you could scold her Lee Jordan, the designated quidditch game commentator, had already started talking through the mic and all the players started zooming through the sky as the crowd went wild. All the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw team players got into their position getting ready to most likely break some bones. You skim and scanned your eyes over the Gryffindor team and you could say for the first time Angelina was right. They were good looking.  

Half way through the game you could say you were having a good time. That was until a bludger was flying at full speed through the sky straight at the Gryffindor Rows and you were right in the middle of it. In state of shock, you couldn’t think of what to do your brain going into a frenzy. That was until you saw a boy from the corner of your eye trying to reach for the uncontrollable ball flying right at you. He briefly looked over to you, catching your eyes and you felt as if time stopped. You felt your heart leap and start beating at a turbulent pace in your chest. As you held eye contact you saw him you suddenly felt time resume as his face turned into a mixture of panic and shock making him slip on his broomstick turning himself upside down as you ducked down to dodge the buldger just in time as it hit one of the seats and bounced off back into the field. “Well would you look at that!” Lee shouted through the mic teasingly through the mic. As he flipped on his broom the correct way round, he stayed in the same place for a while in awe until giving you a bashful smile and zooming away on his broom. Mouth agape and face hot you managed to ask, “Who was that?”  

“Oliver Wood! How do you NOT know him what the hell-” Angelina’s words blurred out as you got lost in your thoughts smiling to yourself.  

[decamarks]

@mysticetus's rainer for art fight... i've admired this design for a while now and i'm really glad i got an excuse to make something with it =D

[acraftedmistake]

A Person Who Has Never Played MCSM Writes A Story About MCSM Chp. 15

CHP 15!!!!! Some good times and bad times lie ahead...... 

Enjoy!

“Everything okay?” Jess asked. Aiden was about to leave the house but had stopped halfway out the door, turned back around, and scanned the first floor while Jess and Olivia waited for him.

“Yeah.” Aiden said slowly as he began to close the door, twisting the knob to make sure he wouldn’t accidentally lock the three of them out, “Just thought I heard something.” He walked away from the house and patted his hair down. “You two ready to go?”

“Mhm!” Olivia finished zipping up the olive green jacket Stella had lent her. She was hiding her face with the hood of the gray sweatshirt Cassie gave her the day before as well. She knew there weren’t too many people out at this hour, but better safe than sorry.

Jess was wearing the leather jacket and beanie again, but he wasn’t too concerned about hiding his face this time. Earlier, he made a minor complaint that his clothes felt rather stiff after wearing them for a few days straight, to which Aiden promised that once they got back home he would throw their clothes in the washer.

“Let’s get going!” Jess said, adjusting the beanie on his head. Originally, Jess wasn’t too thrilled at the idea of going out at this hour. Knowing there might be Awakening members roaming around, or his alternate self--who had no problem beating Radar in broad daylight--made Jess uncertain over the safety of Obsidian Town’s streets. Aiden assured him that they’d be alright, it’d be three against one, and--in his words--he ‘Wants to do somethin’ nice for Olivia after last night’.

Jess appreciated the thoughtfulness, and in the end, visiting Olivia’s grave was up to… Well, Olivia, but he’d still be ready in case a creep tried to pull something.  

Jess couldn’t really blame Olivia for wanting to check out her grave. It’s her place of death. When would you ever get an opportunity to visit a place like that again? Not to mention, Jess had been wanting to get a better look at Obsidian Town rather than getting glimpses or constantly staring at the ground.

The three walked to the left and started their journey to the cemetery. Aiden and Olivia were making small talk, so Jess took this time to absorb his surroundings.

Up ahead, he could spot a tall, crooked, ivory colored tower in the distance. That must’ve been the library Olivia mentioned before. Even from all the way over here Jess could see how ruined the place was. Cracks stretched across it, it was riddled with holes, and it looked moments away from collapsing.

Jess scanned the streets. The long, thin black lamp posts on each side had thin string-lights tied to their tops that stretched across the streets in a zig-zag like manner. It’s a shame they weren’t on at the moment, they must’ve been wonderful when lit.

There were empty stalls they’d pass by occasionally. Colorful, patterned tents protected the bare tables, empty boxes, and scraps sitting underneath. Jess noticed each stall had string lights, small lanterns, or candles for light. He’d catch quick glimpses at folded signs tucked away and papers taped onto poles advertising items and prices. Seeing all of this reminded him of the farmer markets Beacon Town. Jess would always act so crabby when he woke up early for them, but it wouldn’t take long for him to get hyped up and dashing around the place until closing time.

The stalls and all were nice, but Jess couldn’t help but find Obsidian Town’s buildings to be… Underwhelming.

Many of the buildings, from what he could see, were constructed with the same materials: stone, wood, bricks, concrete, the occasional polished granite and diorite, and the rare terracotta. There were variations with the colors, but seeing the same materials got real tiring real fast.

And most structures here were just shapes. That’s all that could really be said. Squared, rectangled, plain shapes to fit the equally-plain materials. Even the sizes of the buildings felt plain. Many were one to two stories, a large handful reached three, and hardly any were four.

Jess was so used to Beacon Town’s monstrous structures, giant jungle trees sprouting from windows, walls of colored glass creating magnificent designs, and bridges stretching from roof to roof that connected the town together. The fun types of builds! It might sound chaotic but that’s what made Beacon Town feel like home. Obsidian Town was just that. A town.

‘Don’t think the people here can risk being experimental, to be fair.’ Jess told himself as he remembered how often quakes struck. He thought back to his town again. He thought about how so many homes would quickly collapse the moment a strong-enough quake would hit. Beacon Town was fun, but it wasn’t built with ‘sturdiness’ in mind, unlike Obsidian Town.

While the construction and sizes of these buildings were on the more ‘basic’ side, the way the citizens decorated the exteriors of their homes and stores was magnificent. Oh, how he loved their decorations. From markets using barrels, wagons, and carefully stacked crates to advertise their fresh fruit and flowers, to cafes that’d have their furniture with their own color schemes and accessories to make them stand out from one another. Some places had porches decorated with flowers and swinging benches, while others had balconies with tiny lights.

Jess would get a second to peer into windows they’d pass by, catching glimpses of interiors that’d tempt him to come closer and press his face against the glass to get a better look. Actually, he hadn’t noticed it right away, but so many windows in Obsidian Town were colored. They didn’t have any intricate designs--a majority of them were one solid color--unlike the stained glass back at the Order Hall, but they were still charming. He pictured in his head how vibrant the streets must be when night comes… The lights from the inside mixing with the colors of the glass must be magnificent.

One place that REALLY caught Jess’ attention was a stone gray building tucked between two larger ones. It had a simple square base, but had a noticeable tilt to it. It had a staircase that wrapped around it’s walls and led to the roof, where a smaller room sat atop, equally slanted. A wooden sign hung from above the door and had the words “Glass Art” on it. Purple, pink, and blue glass shards and chimes were held by opaque strings from the overhang; there was a large, round, beautiful stained glass window with the same colors beside the door.  

The glass art reminded Jess of Ivor and his potions. Man… How is Ivor? Is he doing alright? Is he worried? Hopefully he’s not working himself to the bone trying to find a way to save him and Olivia. Jess couldn’t wait to get back home and give that old man a big ol’ hug.

Come to think of it, has anyone mentioned anything about potions while they’ve been here? He doesn’t remember Olivia’s book talking about them, nor any of Aiden’s friends bringing them up… Are there no potions here? Or maybe there’s a lack of materials? They couldn’t go to the Nether or mine without a license--which STILL boggles Jess’ mind--so that probably made gathering resources hard. How would Ivor react to this? He’d probably say: ‘Pah! A universe without potions is a miserable one. Back in my day, we’d travel hundreds of miles to find the finest ingredients for our--’

“Jess!” He heard Olivia call his name. He spun around and saw her and Aiden standing under a stone arch. Olivia had her hands on her hips.

“You done dreamin’?” Aiden asked.

Jess didn’t realize how far he had strayed from the two. He hurried over and joined them at the arch.

“Sorry, sorry, I was busy thinking.” He skidded to a halt and fixed his beanie.

“Just glad nobody saw you.” Aiden said, “I almost stopped her from calling you cause I wanted to see how far you’d walk off.”

“Could you imagine if he got caught like that?” Olivia asked, “One moment he’s strolling through the streets, and the next he’s being pounced on by guards all because he was too busy sightseeing.” Her and Aiden chuckled at the thought.

“Oh, so it’s a crime to appreciate a town now?” Jess dramatically placed his hands on his hips, mimicking Olivia’s posture.

“It's illegal for you.” Aiden said, “Now come on, there’s a shortcut through the park.”

Aiden walked through the moss-covered stone arch. On each side of the arch were thick, green hedges that boxed in the park. Olivia noticed that, unlike the buildings in this town, the hedges didn’t form an actual shape; it would jut in and out at random, creating odd angles and corners. It was strange but charming.

A path that started under the arch and looped around the area, creating a horseshoe-like shape. Aiden ignored the path and continued walking straight through the grass. Olivia saw the usual things most parks had: Benches, lampposts, a sign telling people not to litter. She also noticed leftover chalk on the sidewalk, laying right beside children’s drawings of stick figures and hopscotch.

Obsidian Town’s park was small, nice, simple, and… Honestly a little dark. The thick clouds were already blocking most of the sun’s light, but the few, tall, thick trees had branches that hid nearly every inch of the sky. Despite how dim it was, Olivia could still spot wild flowers sprinkled around the grass, along with the bugs buzzing around them.

Honestly--and Olivia felt bad thinking this--she preferred this sort of park over whatever the heck Beacon Town had going on. Yes, Beacon Town was great in it’s own way. People could build whatever they wanted, and that’s wonderful, but sometimes she’d just like to take a walk without a constant ruckus surrounding her. Sometimes she just wanted peace and quiet--

“That guy’s missing his entire head!” Jess suddenly whisper-shouted as he lightly shook Olivia. Her heart started beating frantically as she hurriedly spun her head around. Her mind was going all over the place. Was it a decapitated corpse? A strange, alternate-universe monster? Or--or--

It was a statue.

“Jess, you nearly gave me a heart attack.” She sighed with relief.

“Sorry,” He took his hands off of her and pointed, “check it out though!”

Both Olivia and Aiden were looking at the statue now. It was a man frozen midrun, an axe held back--stuck in a swinging motion--while the other hand held up his battered shield, which covered his face. If he had a face, that is. It had to be The Impossible Man. Olivia wasn’t sure who else it could’ve been.

“He’s definitely seen better days.” She said under her breath. Besides his entire head missing, a majority of his body was covered in dirt, children’s chalk, and other strange stains. Cracks started from his broken neck and traveled to his chest, his armor was chipped and scratched, and a good portion of his axe had broken off as well.

“Yeah, I think there’s a couple more statues around here?” Aiden mentioned as they continued walking, “They’re all in pretty bad shape. The kids like to mess with them.”

Aiden scanned the park. “There’s one,” He pointed to the upper corner on the left side of the park. A statue was placed on a podium right in front of a tree. Despite the fact one of his legs was missing, he appeared to be sitting comfortably, gazing at the tree tops peacefully.

“Annnndddd…” Aiden kept turning his head in different directions, “I’m pretty sure there was a head somewhere… Oh!” He spun around, walking backwards now as he pointed to the direction of the entrance. Jess and Olivia followed his finger, their eyes landed on a wooden bench--and right beside it was a small column with a broken bust of the man on top. Olivia couldn’t make out much of the man’s face from here, but she kept getting the eerie feeling that his fractured eyes were somehow watching her. Constantly. Unblinking. She shuddered.

“You think the quakes are the reason they’re missing some parts?” She heard Jess ask aloud.

“I find it really hard to believe they somehow stood through all of those quakes and just lost a head or a leg. They might've been stolen.” Olivia theorized.

Jess put his hand on his chin, stroking an imaginary beard, “I think I remember seeing Hadrian have a couple of statue parts at his place…”

“What? You think old people just like to steal random body parts during their free time?” She grinned.

“That’s what I’d like to do when I retire!” He chuckled. Olivia rolled her eyes playfully.

The three came to a stop in front of a wall of hedge that stood a couple inches taller than Aiden. Unlike the rest of the hedges, this one probably hasn’t been trimmed in months. The surface was extremely uneven; hundreds of tiny branches and leaves stuck out and got tangled with one another. This hedge was also covered in flowers. Tons of them. Clusters of fluffy-looking, light pink flowers were scattered throughout, and were nearly as big as Olivia’s face. The ground was covered in old petals.

Olivia made sure that every strand of hair was tucked inside her hood. There was no way she wanted to spend the rest of the day picking out the twigs, leaves, and petals that’d get stuck in there.

Aiden walked to the right, staring into the bush and running his hand over it as he mumbled to himself, trying to remember where the shortcut was. Olivia and Jess awkwardly shuffled along. Aiden soon stopped, crouched down, then put his hand into the bush. He then took it out, huffed, scooched over a couple more inches, and repeated the process.

After a minute of searching, Aiden started talking to himself. “Maybe it’s on the left side? I could’ve sworn we--!” Aiden suddenly fell forward and into a large hole in the hedge.

Man, if Aiden hadn’t fell through, Olivia would’ve also thought he’d forgotten where the entrance was. The branches hid the hole well.

Jess helped Aiden to his feet. Aiden thanked him as he moved aside, motioning towards the hole.

“You guys go ahead.” Aiden said, “I’ll wait for you to go through.”

Jess and Olivia glanced at each other before Jess gave her a little bow, “After you.”

“How kind.” Olivia curtsied. She crouched and crawled through. The dirt was already making her pants a little damp.

Luckily, despite a few scratches, the crawl only lasted a few seconds.

She got up, cleaned herself off, and waited for the boys.

Jess’ head soon popped out from the hole. Leaves and tiny branches were caught in his hair. He wriggled himself out and brushed off his clothes.

“Here, let me help with your hair.” Olivia started plucking the sticks out.

“Thanks!” Jess said happily as he took off and shook the leaves off his beanie.

It was quiet for a couple of moments as they cleaned themselves up. Olivia felt her smile twitch.

“Hey, Jess,” She started slowly, “I’m… I’m sorry.”

Jess put his hat back on, “What for?”

“I know you don’t have the best feelings towards Aiden right now,” She stared at her feet, “I hope it doesn’t feel like I’m dragging you along.”

“What? No, no, no!” Jess exclaimed, “Look, I was real mad last night, but I wanted to go with you!”

Olivia brought her head back up to Jess, a tiny smile of relief on her face.

“And I’m sticking to my word. We’ll stick together no matter what.” Jess shoved his hands into his pockets. “And uh… We don’t really have a choice when it comes to trusting Aiden and his friends, but things aren’t gonna get better if I keep blowing up like I did yesterday--” A sudden grunt interrupted Jess and caused both of them to jump.

They turned to see Aiden struggling to get out of the bush. How much did he hear? Hopefully not too much. Hopefully.

Aiden tries to use his free arm to pull the rest of his body out, but after a few more seconds he stopped fighting and let his face fall to the ground.

“... I’m stuck again.” He could hear Olivia and Jess snicker as they grabbed his hand and began to pull. They were able to pull him out in no time.

“Thanks.” Aiden said as he shook off the dirt--and the embarrassment. “The memorials are on the other side of the cemetery. Should only take a minute to get there.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When they entered the cemetery, Jess kept his eyes peeled for any familiar names on the gravestones. A few graves had rather unusual colors to them. There was a dusty red one, an uncommon shade, but not odd. Then he’d walk by a blue one; he’s never seen a grave that color before--well, Reuben’s memorial had bits of blue in it, does that count?--Then he walked by a purple grave, a green one, an orange one?

“This is… The happiest looking cemetery I’ve ever seen.” Olivia said as she beheld the rest of the graveyard.

“Is that a compliment?” Aiden asked.

Olivia kept staring at tombstones until she finally said “I don’t know, I’ve just never seen a place for the dead look so… Lively.”

Taking in the rest of the graveyard, Jess had to agree . What was usually a dark, gloomy, dreary place was so, so vibrant. Even under this cloudy, dull weather, the many colors still popped. This was more like a miniature festival than a cemetery! Many tombstone tops looked like roofs with their pointed tops and little overhangs. Their heights and widths would range from short and broad to tall and scrawny. Heck, Jess could spot a couple of graves as tall as him.

“What the heck are your cemeteries like?” Aiden glanced back at them.

“Plainer colors, I guess?” Jess shrugged, “You know, blacks, grays, browns, nothing too flashy.” The only exception Jess could think of was, once again, Reuben's memorial.

“Really?” Aiden sounded genuinely baffled by this. “We hardly got any of those. What do they mean?”

Olivia and Jess exchanged confused expressions with each other before Jess faced Aiden again, “Sadness? Loss? I don’t think there’s any real meaning behind those colors, honestly.”

“Right, we don’t typically associate bright colors with the dead.” Olivia added in, viewing the cemetery again. Scrawny trees and tiny flowers with stems that reached her knees that were peppered around the area; most were in between the graves. She thought about Aiden’s question, “I’m assuming the colors here represent something specific?”

“Yeah, buncha things. Too many for me to keep track of, but I remember the important ones.” Aiden started as they continued walking down the damp dirt path. “When a person dies, their friends and family can choose the color of their grave. It’s usually… Like… Hm. It’s supposed to show what the person was like when they were alive, ya know? Yellow for the happy people,” He explained while pointing to a shorter grave of said-color, “orange for determination, that sorta stuff. Stella’s memorized ‘em all. If you ever wanna know more, she’s the person to ask.”

As Aiden kept talking, Olivia and Jess kept taking in their surroundings. Jess had noticed something. Every single grave they passed was decorated with gems. The gems were placed close by the names and dates of those who passed, and seeing so many of them in various shapes, colors, and sizes made him curious…

“Hey, uh, what’s with the gems?” Jess spoke up, “Are they real?” He was wondering if maybe they were regular stones that were carved and painted. There was no way Obsidian Town could have an overabundance of minerals, especially since the citizens needed a mining license.

“Nah, they’re glass.” Aiden replied, “I thought they were real myself until we had to choose some gems for Lukas--” He suddenly stopped in his tracks. Jess and Olivia peered over and saw a lit redstone torch placed in front of a grave. Aiden plucked the torch from its place, a scowl on his face as he blew out the flame then chucked the burnt wood across the cemetery.

“Anyways, what was I sayin’?” He began walking again, as if nothing out of the ordinary happened.

‘What was that about?’ Jess thought to himself. It must’ve been linked to the cult, right? Why else would Aiden have done that?

“Right!” He snapped his fingers,” So the gems are basically like the colors of the graves. We had to go to this special place where the people there pulled out huge chests filled with those things. Took us forever to pick ‘em out.”

“Each color chosen means something for the person that passed…” Jess whispered to himself as Aiden’s words from earlier echoed through his mind. He was rather fond of how Obsidian Town remembered their dead. It was more uplifting than what he was used to. Maybe he could make some changes to the graveyards once they get back to Beacon Town.

Aiden was quiet for a minute before he added, “Gill took the longest. He was real worried his gem wouldn’t be good enough.” He paused. “He… he ended up crying.”

His voice got quieter, “I hated seeing him like that.”

Jess and Olivia both tried to think of what to say, what ‘s the next best thing to do, but Aiden immediately changed the subject.

“What do you guys put on your graves?” Aiden asked, he sounded ‘normal’ again, but kept facing away from the two.

Jess hesitated, “Names. Dates.”

“A description of the person who passed.” Olivia added.

“Just words? Doesn’t that get a little… Depressing?” Aiden narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, you think that’s sad? We once wrote out an entire dictionary on a guy’s grave back in our universe.” Jess answered jokingly. Olivia let out a little giggle, and they even heard a chuckle out of Aiden.

That small chuckle was all Jess needed to hear to continue telling quips and share short, funny stories at Aiden’s way to try and lighten the mood. Aiden was soon sharing his own experiences mixed in with his own humor. Aiden and Jess were bouncing off of each other, making fun of their own universes while Olivia would throw in her commentary every now and then.

‘This is so weird…’ Olivia thought to herself. The three of them laughing while walking through a cemetery… it’s something that’d usually feel inappropriate to do, but here she wasn’t all that bothered.

This whole experience has been surreal. Entering a rainbow of a cemetery through a bush felt like something that’d only happen in her dreams, yet here she was. Honestly, it was a nice change of pace to not feel worried for her and her friend’s life for a moment.

She had nearly forgotten the dread she felt when she originally suggested coming here.

And then Aiden spoke up.

“Okay, okay, we’re finally--” Aiden stopped. “Here.” All happiness in his tone had left.

That didn’t sound good. That didn’t sound good at all. Olivia grabbed onto the string of her hoodie and began to pull on it as she slowly peered over Aiden. Standing before him were two graves. Olivia’s eyes were drawn to the shorter one. She trailed down the grave, the coral color fading into a deep shade of red until she stopped at the flowers laying beside a lit, redstone torch.

Olivia held her breath. Jess got close to her as Aiden approached the torch. He grabbed it by it’s barely-scorched base and brought it to his face to blow out the flame. Instead of throwing it away like the last one, he just placed it to the side, only a few feet away from the grave. He wore an expression neither of them have ever seen on him before. Fear? Heartache? Pain.

“We’re here.” He said again. His voice completely devoid of energy. His body was stiff as he walked to the side of the grave, with his hands curled into tight fists and placed at his sides. There was another redstone torch placed in front of the grave to the right, but Aiden didn’t say anything. Olivia took a few small steps forward and gave him a small nod.

As she knelt down in front of the grave--in front of her grave--she heard Aiden tell Jess ‘Come on’, followed by the sound of footsteps growing distant.

She sat alone at her grave.

She didn’t want to read the text. She really didn’t. Isn’t that funny? That was one of the main reasons she wanted to come here. To see if there was a chance she could read about her death, what happened to her, but now that she was here, she was terrified. She looked everywhere else but the epitaph before her. She stared at the small bouquet of flowers on the dirt--the dirt… She noticed it seemed… Messier compared to the other graves. Like someone tried digging through it. The bouquet, though! There was a mix of flowers held together by a red ribbon. Clusters of tiny, magenta flowers, a few pointed, white flowers with many petals, and a type of flower she actually knew the name of: Lilys.

She then brought her gaze up, catching a quick glimpse of her name written in gold, to observe the gems placed into the tombstone. Two orange gems, one yellow, one gold, another maroon, and the gem in the center was amber. They formed an arch around the words in the center.

‘Stop avoiding it.’ She told herself, but she didn’t listen. She turned to Lukas’ grave. She had to see his. She had to. It was right here and--and he’s her friend.

His grave was turquoise and had thin, white stripes that stretched across the top, and seven gems instead of six. Three on each side, and the last gem placed above his epitaph. He was given flowers as well.

The words engraved in the stone read: “LUKAS: Courageous and loyal. An inspiring leader and a brilliant friend.”

Short but wonderful. It was perfect. Reading it over and over again, she thought about just how lucky she and Jess were with having their friend still around. He’s done so much for them. Constantly helping Jess run Beacon Town, aiding the citizens, always visiting her and Axel whenever he got the chance… He could’ve left them during that Witherstorm. He could’ve ditched them at any moment when things got too rough, but he never did.

‘I need to give Lukas a hug when I get back.’ Olivia thought to herself. Lukas could still leave them one day without warning. He could finally get sick of them, die in a brutal fight, or--or end up being kidnapped like this Lukas--Olivia squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, trying to get those awful thoughts out. Don’t think about that. He’s still alive. He still cares about them. He loves them.

Olivia kept her eyes closed for a moment longer before finally bringing her attention back to her own grave. She forced herself to read the words written for her; “OLIVIA: An intelligent, creative, and hardworking engineer. A bright spark of joy even during the darkest of days.”

Olivia stared at her words. A weird sense of reassurance was arising. She’s never thought highly of herself. She’d sometimes convince herself that others couldn’t tolerate her, and that she was one mistake away from ruining everything. She wondered if this Olivia ever felt a similar way. Was she constantly trying to make sure she said and did the right things? Try to fix any issue immediately so her friends didn’t think she was useless? Always second guessing her own thoughts?

Did this Olivia know her friends always loved her? Or was she riddled with fears and doubts until her sudden end?

‘She died a couple of years ago, didn’t she?’ Olivia tried to recall any mention of her death from Aiden. She wasn’t certain, but whether it was a few years ago, or a few months ago, didn’t change the fact that she died so soon.

She was young.

Younger than her.

To have her life end on an abrupt note… It scared her. It scared her so much. Everything could be taken away one day.

As she sat over her body, she felt her fingers begin to dig into the dirt, like they were trying to reach in and find the other Olivia’s hand. A sick form of curiosity made her want to know more. More about this Olivia. Her life. Her mind. To have a connection with her. It was her body she was sitting over, afterall. Her corpse. Her--

“Olivia?” Jess placed his hand on her shoulder. “Are you doing okay?”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Come on.” Aiden gave Jess a light tap with his hand. He started walking away from Olivia. Jess hesitated. He looked at his friend for a second more before leaving with Aiden.

“We just needa give her some space.” Aiden said.

“Right, totally understand.” Jess wanted to stick around for a few minutes longer to study his friends’ graves, but that could wait. He didn’t want to make Olivia feel like he was breathing down her neck.

Jess thought back to the many instances where his friends’ lives were in danger, when they were so close to being taken away from him. He hated seeing his friends’ lives at stake more than anything; he’d go through Hell and back to protect them, and to be in a place where their deaths became a reality was so hard to wrap his head around.

Lukas left without a trace. No familiar faces to comfort him during his last moments, only enemies looming over him while he was in an unknown place. Just thinking about his fate made Jess worry sick about his Lukas back at home.

It was silent for a few minutes. Only their footsteps filled the void.

“So…” Jess started, wanting to make small talk, “What do the colors for Olivia and Lukas’ graves mean?”

“Olivia’s creativity.” Aiden replied, sounding short. “And Lukas’--” He paused and scanned the cemetery. He took a left turn and continued walking between the graves. “He’s…Don’t make fun of us, but his color stands for friendship.”

“Friendship?” Jess perked up at the word.

“I know, it’s probably super cheesy or whatever, but it fits him. It really does.” Aiden said.

“No, no, I completely agree! He’s a great friend--one of the best! If I had to recount all the times he’s been there for me, we’d be here all day.”

“Right. Same here.” They stopped at another grave with another redstone torch in front of it. This grave was short and purple, with many cool-colored gems placed in it. Jess didn’t recognize the name.

Aiden grabbed the torch and blew out the flame. Jess decided to ask another question.

“Any idea why The Awakening puts those torches there?”

“Probably for no good reason.” Aiden answered through gritted teeth as he chucked the wood as hard as he could across the cemetery.

There was something unnerving about the torches left at the grave. Their red glow would take over the colors of the graves, and their light under a thick, cloudy sky would claim your attention and make it hard to pull away. Their soft crackling would fill in the silence whenever he and Aiden didn’t talk; the occasional loud snaps from the flames would make Jess believe there was a threat following them.

Jess stopped at a tombstone and picked up a vase of flowers that had fallen aside. “The gems on their graves, what do they mean? Do you remember ‘em?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’d remember what the gems on my own friends’ graves would mean!” Aiden snapped.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that!” Jess held the vase tighter. “I was just--I wanted to know more about them.” Great. Now they’re both feeling terrible.

Aiden’s demeanor softened when he saw Jess’ reaction. “No, it’s okay. I’m sorry. I’ve been--” He hesitated, “I’ve just been thinking about someone is all.”

“No, it’s no problem.” Jess carefully placed the small vase back upright. He folded his arms and joined Aiden’s side.

“I’m uh, still interested to hear bout those gems if you’re wanting to share.” He said.

“Yeah. I can do that for ya.” Aiden answered.

“For Lukas,” Aiden began, walking through the grass. “Gill chose blue. I remember that one’s loyalty. Gold for compassion. White for safety--he’d always double check our belongings every time to make sure we were prepared.”

Aiden stopped and grabbed a torch, “It was kinda annoying, but I miss it now.” He blew it out and threw the wood.

They kept moving.

“Rose picked pink.” Aiden started running his fingers over the grave tops, “She was real embarrassed when she chose it. Kept refusing to show us cause she thought we’d laugh at her.”

“I’m guessing pink’s for love?” Jess said, trying to make sure he wouldn’t trample any flowers.

“Yeah, and--” Aiden chuckled, “Rose wanted his description to be: Pretty blond dork with a decent sense of style. All of us were actually on board with it.”

“Did you end up pulling through with it?” Jess asked.

“Nah, the guys making the grave wouldn’t allow it.” Aiden spotted a couple of gravestones with torches by them. They were already burnt out. He grabbed two of the torches while Jess grabbed the last.

“What a bunch of killjoys.” Jess joked. Aiden laughed as he prepared to throw the burnt wood. Jess mimicked each step of Aiden’s. Hold, aim, then throw. Once they lost sight of the rubbish, they followed the dirt path to the entrance of the cemetery.

The cemetery wasn’t boxed in by hedges like the park, instead, it had a stone wall.

Aiden leaned against the wall. It didn’t look like the most comfortable surface--the rocks were jagged and would probably fall apart in moments--but he seemed unaffected by it. Jess stood nearby and took a peek through the gate beside them. Unlike the rough, uneven walls, the black fence was tall, sturdy, and had a huge, elegantly curved arch.

“Olivia’s got a few similar gems,” Aiden started, putting his hands in his pocket, “Two golds, yellow… She’s got amber--Man, I always mix those three up. They sound different enough but when they’re placed by each other, they all look the same. Amber’s slightly darker than yellow, but not as dark as gold. Amber’s positivity.”

“Lotta happy ones for her.” Jess commented. He’d been staring at the decorated buildings through the gate’s bars as he listened. He could spot bits of pots filled with flowers on the other side of the wall, their colors as eye-catching as the cemetery.

“Always made us happy.” Aiden said with a shrug. “She also had… Ah…” He pressed his lips together, “Orange! She had that one too. And then there’s…” He had to stop to think again.

“It’s not… Well, it looks like red, but it’s darker… Ah, shoot.” Aiden cursed to himself.

“Carmine? Maroon?” Jess tilted his head.

Aiden snapped his fingers, “Maroon! Right! Creativity; same thing as her grave. Picked it myself.” He said rather proudly.

“You guys really cared about her.” Jess mumbled. He tilted his head towards Aiden, “And I’m sure Olivia loved you guys all the same.”

Aiden stared back at him.

A small smile spread across his face, “Thanks.”

The two became quiet and looked over the array of colorful graves before them. The clouds slowly began to part; gems glistened as the rays of sun shone down on them.

“Should we check on Olivia now?” Jess asked after a few minutes of silence.

Aiden got off the stone wall and stretched his back, “Yeah, let’s go.”

~ ~ ~ ~

When the two returned to Olivia, the last thing they wanted to see was to see her in distress. The tips of her fingers were shoved into the dirt below, her eyes were stuck on the golden words in front of her, her mouth was parted--barely moving--with no voice to match. Jess couldn’t tell if she was trembling or not, but she was scared. Very scared.

Jess bit his lip and approached his friend. Aiden was right behind.

“Olivia?” Jess placed his hand on her shoulder, “Are you doing okay?”

Olivia jumped and jerked her hands out of the dirt.

“Yes--! Yeah, no, no don’t worry, I’m fine. Thanks--thank you for checking on me.” She replied frantically. She took deep breaths.

Before Jess could question anything, Olivia spoke up.

“Aiden, this uh--the substance mixed into the stone,” Her fingers trailed down the tombstone, “is it redstone dust?”

Her voice was shaky.

Aiden glanced at Jess, who was equally nervous as him, then said, “Actually, it is.”

He took a step closer to Olivia, “They don’t usually allow people to mix stuff like redstone or glowstone dust with the colors--especially cause they’re hard to find--but they made an exception for us.”

Olivia nodded along, blinking back tears.

Jess read her epitaph, “Guess all Olivia’s are just the greatest engineers out there, huh?”

“Damn right. She didn’t have a bunch of dust to work with, but she’d still crank out machine after machine like no tomorrow.” Aiden said, “Man, I remember every year for her birthday that’d be all she’d ever ask for. Not weapons, not new journals, not even a dang cake, just redstone dust. Course, the only places you could find ‘em were in caves or old shrines, right?” He asked while facing Lukas’ grave and grabbing the lit redstone torch below.

“Yup, we found a bunch of it yesterday.” Jess said, sitting besides Olivia.

“Right, and since it was so dangerous, she told us to not worry bout gettin’ it because ‘It’d be stupid to risk your life for some red powder’.” Aiden gestured with the torch, the flame getting frighteningly close to his hair.

“Well, I’d always lose track of dates and forget to get her a gift, so one of the other guys would back me up and tell Olivia we bought a gift ‘together’, and I felt so bad.” He thankfully blew out the fire after saying that.

“So then guess what I did one day?” Aiden said.

“Walked out and found a bag of redstone on the ground?” Jess asked sarcastically.

Aiden laughed, “I wish.”  

Aiden began pacing, the trail of smoke whirling around him, “But I decided I’d bust into one of those dumb shrine and find some dust for her, and I didn’t tell anyone bout it besides Jesse. He was on board with the plan, he was great at findin’ stuff, plus two people finding dust was much easier than one.” Aiden fiddled with the burnt wood, “We headed off to the nearest shrine and actually found enough dust to fill up a bag and a half, but cause of the state of that dump, some rooms would collapse after you opened the door!”

“You two ended up getting hurt, didn’t you?” Olivia had her hand on her head, already concerned over the direction of this story.

“Course we did!” Aiden threw his arms up. “I swear anytime the two of us were together, things would fall apart or we’d break a bone--” Aiden stopped his talking to quickly chuck the wood away. “Anyways, anyways, we got back home right on time for Olivia’s birthday and man did we look awful. Clothes were all dirty, got some real bad scrapes on my knees, Jesse grabbed so much dust it looked like his fingers were covered in blood, and I somehow got a black eye? I think the top of a chest smacked me...”

Olivia rubbed her temples, “You two really shouldn’t have risked your lives over a birthday present--”

“That’s exactly what she said!” Aiden exclaimed, “Went through all that trouble, and you know how she reacted?”

“Panicked?” Olivia asked.

“Bet she loved it.” Jess said, giving Olivia a nudge.

“She did--but Hero did she freak out! Dropped her cake and rushed over to get us cleaned up. Olivia was wrapping up one of Jesse’s arms--” Aiden thought to himself for a second, “--I think a big rock landed on it? But she was going off on us. Raising her voice and lecturing us like she was our mom, telling us it’s a miracle we were still in one piece, and why in Hero’s name we did something so stupid.”

“I mean, it wasn’t stupid if things worked out for you.” Jess pointed out.

“Yeah, but still.” Aiden chuckled, “It was stupid. It was so, so stupid. But after that, she loved our present. I’d never seen her smile so much. She was working on her machinery, telling me and Jesse how everything worked while we pretended to understand.”

Aiden carefully leaned on Olivia’s grave, “Hero knows I didn’t understand a single thing she was sayin’, but seeing her so happy…” His smile grew as his voice softened, “It was great.”

“That’s all so sweet…” Olivia spoke softly. “I love it.”

She was shaking again.

Jess turned to his friend to mention something, but stopped when he saw Olivia staring at the ground, fingers picking at the dirt just like she was when they came back. That same, terrified expression on her face.

“Liv--?” Jess mumbled, but Olivia started rambling nonsense.

“I don’t know if my words mean much to you--I know I’m not her--but you’re a good friend, Aiden.” Her nails started to dig into the ground, “All of this, all that you’ve done for Olivia--you--you--Even when I just--” She kept stumbling over her words, “Even when she died one day you kept being so kind to me--”

The more she kept talking, the more concerned--the more scared--Aiden and Jess became.

“Hey, hey are you alright?” Jess reached out to hold her, but Olivia shot her head back up.

“I’m under here.” She whispered. Her voice was so unsteady.

Jess was taken aback, “What?”

“I’m under here.” She said again. “I’m so close.”

Her hand began to claw at the dirt, “I’m so close. My body’s all mangled up in that box below, and--and my hair’s so long now.” She felt sick talking about this, she felt sick thinking about it. “It’d be so easy to just dig myself up. For Aiden to see her again. Jesse--Jess, we’re so close. I could look at myself. Look at my body. I’m--”

“Olivia!” Jess shook her, “Do you want to get out of here?”

Aiden wanted to offer his support, but Olivia instantly got on her feet.

“Yes. Yes I want to leave. I want to go home.” She kept repeating that last sentence while she hugged herself, breathing heavily. She was freezing.

“Right, we need to head back anyways.” Aiden’s stomach was in knots seeing Olivia like this. His hands turned to fists, “I should’ve known better. I shouldn’t have taken you here. I’m sorry--”

“Don’t.” Olivia cut in. “I wanted to go. You took me. I saw--I saw what I needed to. I appreciate it. Thank you.” She was stiff as a board.

Olivia took one last deep breath, “Let’s go home.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Damn them.

Damn them all.

Locked every damn door and window in this house. They’re hiding her, he knows they’re hiding her.

Did they really think locking themselves in would stop him? He used to live in this Hero forsaken house; he knows every nail, screw, and plank that makes up this despicable place.

He still remembers that trapdoor on the roof. He knows how to claw his way up there. He’ll pry it open with his own bare hands.

He’ll find her.

He will.

[ask-them-bois]

A King and His Soldier, part 2/3

(Okay, well. Zeruki appeared ahead of schedule. Let’s figure out how the hell that happened.)

-AgressiveUndead began trolling GlitchingVampire!-

AU: Blxlit.

GV: AlMMawt.

AU: …

GV: … lMMao hi.

AU: Hello.

GV: What do you want?

AU: I need you to find someone for me. Ribbit.

GV: Oh yeah? Who? And also, why should I care?

AU: Xre you fxmilixr with x boy nxmed Ursidx?

GV: I think so? It sounds faMMiliar.

GV: oh.

GV: wait…

GV: ….

GV: Yeah I know that naMMe.

AU: I thought xs much. How do you know him?

GV: … I knew hiMM from the CoMMpound. He was the engineer MMy… designs… got sent to. He was, like, MMy assigned partner.

AU: I need you to find him. Ribbit.

GV: Why.

AU: Becxuse I need his xncestor on my side, before Mxddel cxn get him. Becxuse I know who his xncestor worked for, xnd I’d much rxther hxve them both on my side. It’d mxke this whole thing x lot exsier. Ribbit.

GV: I have no idea what you’re talking about dude, lMMao. But the answer is no. I’MM not gonna go find someone froMM the coMMpound. I blew up those bridges a long tiMMe ago.

AU: …

AU: I understxnd thxt, but I xsk you to reconsider. I wouldn’t xsk xt xll if it wxsn’t importxnt, Blxlit. Ribbit.

GV: What’s in it for MMe?

AU: Wow, rexlly?

GV: You realize what you’re asking MMe, right? You want MMe to go find soMMeone froMM a place where I was literally IMMPRISONED and ENSLAVED. A place I BLEW UP. What if he turns MMe in? I’MM a wanted robot, MMusrio. I can’t just get in contact with the Fleet like it’s no big deal. So if I’MM gonna do that, I want soMMething in return.

AU: …

AU: Blxlit, under thxt childish, prxnkster personx of yours, you’re quite… xstute, xren’t you? Ribbit.

GV: Bitch I built war machines. I MMake robots and eXXplosives. I’MM hella sMMarter than you take MMe for. I’MM hella ass-toot.

AU: Xstute.

GV: Ass-toot.

AU: There’s thxt childishness I wxs spexking of. Ribbit.

GV: lMMao

AU: Fine. Whxt do you wxnt, then?

GV: ... I don’t wanna say yet.

AU: Why?

GV: Because I’MM not ready for you to pay off the favor so fast. Having a zombie wizard at my beck and call? Who the hell would pass that up?

AU: I’m xn undexd necromxncer. Ribbit.

GV: Ass-toot.

AU: Ugh. Fine.

GV: Good.

GV: I’ll find your guy, AlMMawt. But you’re gonna owe me big for this.

-GlitchingVampire ceased trolling AggressiveUndead!- -GlitchingVampire began trolling SoldieringSkybear!-

GV: Hey you.

GV: Are you still alive?

GV: Been a while, huh.

GV: If you’re still in the city, MMeet me on a rooftop, okay? We need to talk.

-GlitchingVampire ceased trolling SoldieringSkybear!-

Corden closed down Trollian and spun around in his chair. Once, twice, and he jumped up, catching the chair before it knocked into the desk.

“Batmom, I’m gonna go out for a bit. You wanna come?” He spoke to a large meow-beast tower that stood next to the desk. After a moment, a very small bat poked her head out, golden eyes blinking sleepily.

She squeaked, and with a flutter of four wings, lighted on his shoulder.

“Cool.” Corden made sure to pocket his knives and a handful of gadgets, before he left his respiteblock. Jumping down the stairs two at a time, he stopped at the bottom and glanced around. “Ken-ken?” He shouted.

“Yo?” Makeno looked up from where he was laid on the lounge-plank, scrolling his palmhusk, hair still damp from a shower.

“I’m going out for a bit.”

“M’kay. Be safe.”

“No promises.” Corden snickered, extending two fingers as he walked past. Makeno reached up and connected two of his own fingers to Corden’s.

“Pale for you, Cordy.”

“Pale for you, too.”

Corden stepped outside, rolling his neck as he headed down the walk and made his way to the city proper.

Once he was among the towering hivestems and workhives, his tense shoulders loosened. The buzz of the city hummed in his ears, hyping him up until blue and red sparks were dancing along his horns.

He roamed the streets for a while, a vague plan beginning to form in his head. He paused on the sidewalk and craned his neck back, looking up at the soaring buildings. “If there’s one place to find him, it’d be up there, huh?” He asked Batmom.

She chirped, and he nodded thoughtfully. Turning, his cape swishing, he marched into a nearby alley between a hivestem and coffeehive. With a burst of psionics and a jump, he landed easily on the fire escape that went up the side of the hivestem.

The smell of the coffeehive’s garbage bin in his sniffnub, he quickly scaled the fire escape to… well, *escape* the smell. The higher he went, the bolder he became, his psionics swirling around him to keep him from falling if he slipped. His hair began to stand on end from the energy alone.

Wind blew it back from his face as he neared the top of the ninety-story hive. He vaulted over the lip of the roof and landed easily. Standing up straight, he looked around; it was a clear night, and from the edge of the building, he could see across the whole city. He stared at the millions of lights, almost entranced by their glow.

Across the city, hidden by the towering buildings between him and it, was the burned out, collapsing remains of the compound. The place he grew up, worked, and lived for the first sweeps of his life. The place he blew up, leaving virtually no one alive, in a daring attempt to escape. No one, save one person, who he’d sent a single message before it went up in flames.

Corden sat on the edge of the roof, dangling his legs. All he had to do now was wait, so he allowed himself to indulge in his memory files. He slid one hand over the back of his shoulders, where he could feel the tips of the scars that marred his back.

“Still don’t know why they thought flogging a robot was a good idea. All it did was tear up my exo-skin.” He said to Batmom. The tiny bat only trilled in response.

Corden sat there for a good half hour, watching the city as he got lost in painful memories. Finally, however, he heard the telltale sound of several jingling bells as someone vaulted onto the roof behind him.

“Ayyye, it’s the Cordy-bordy-robo-bro! Wassup manbot? Dude it’s been like- fucking sweeps huh? Fuck yeah man, whatcha been doing since the compound went-” The newcomer made several vocals to indicate explosions, before he laughed, his loud voice amplifying his thick lisp.

Corden held in a sigh as he got to his feet and turned to face them. “Nice to see you again, too, Engineer-class Fleetman Zeruki Ursida.” He said formally, his posture suddenly stiff as he swept into a low bow.

Zeruki stared at him like he’d grown a second head; at least, Corden thought he did. It was hard to tell with the hair. The tealblood’s tail lashed, sending the bells jingling vigorously.

“Oh, so we’re being all form-fit-finessed here, are we? Fine. Nice to see you, Gold-Station #315.184.514, Bloodline: Blalit.” Zeruki stuck out his split tongue in disgust, “WTF man, I don’t do that,” He blew a raspberry, “shit unless it’s with the ssssssuperiors. You and I are buddies, ain’t we?” He clicked his tongue, his tail bobbing and jingling again. He tugged on the lip of his helmet, nodding to Batmom, “Hello, missy ma’am.”

“Are we?” Corden repeated, his voice flat and emotionless.

Zeruki shrugged, bouncing on his toes. “I dunno. Sure. Yep. LMAO. Anywaysies, what didja message me for? I thought you never wanted to see me again, after you,” he waved a hand vaguely, making more explosive vocalizations, “ya knoooooow? After you killed all our buddy-bros and left me to clean up the mess.” His expression soured for a moment, before he was grinning again.

Corden frowned; he wasn’t sure what the meant. “I didn’t want to see you, but a… friend, asked I find you again. He needs you for… something.” He explained.

“Ah, dope. Totes. Uhhhhhh, he wouldn’t happen to be an olive dude? Real skinny, looks like a doritos bag? Got soda-cola-pop for hair?”

Corden frowned. “No… That sounds like Oliver, though. You haven’t been talking to her, have you?”

“Eh, meh, kinda, no.” Zeruki snickered, his tail shivering and jingling. “They approached me after I left the base a few nights back. Told me they wanted to talk, and started going off about some magicky-tacky-spooky stuff. Wanted my blood so he could meet some doctor or ssssssomething. No idea what that was about, so I bounced. Now your dude wants me, too? Didn’t know I was so famous.” He grinned with a mouthful of crooked teeth.

“I don’t think it’s you they want. They want your ancestor. But believe me, my dude is on the right side here. I can give you his Trollian Handle.” Corden pulled out his palmhusk and did just that.

“Freaky-deaky, dude-bro-bot, buuuuuut… I dunno if I’m down for this shit. I’m just trying to keep my skull off a threshcutioner’s sickle, ya know? I’m barely making it as an engineer, duder, I don’t need to get caught up in any of this shhhhhit.” Zeruki shifted his feet, frowning.

“I don’t know, but okay. Just give Musrio a message. I’ve done my job, so I’m going home.” Corden pocketed his palmhusk and turned way.

In a flash, Zeruki was at his side, his tail surprisingly dexterous as it wrapped around Corden’s metal wrist. “Yo, hold it up, brody-Cody! You just gonna hitch-snitch and ditch like that? Maybe I’ve got a message for you, too!” He said sharply, before looking down at the metal hand. “Yoooooo, that’s new.”

Corden wrenched his arm from the quad-horned troll’s grasp, before he raised an eyebrow. “A message?”

“Yeah-huh. Uhhhh… what was it.” Zeruki screwed up his face in thought, before he perked up, his tail wagging and chiming. “Oh yeah! You remember Fallen? The freaky-deaky-spooky dude who patrolled the compound sometimes, ‘cause his ancestor ran the place? He’s out, dude. You’ve got a mory-dory-morail right? They had history or some shit, didn’t they? Exes, or something?”

Corden stepped back, alarmed. “How do you know all that? Ken-ken never talks about his ex.” He demanded, one hand reaching for the knives at his side.

“Aye, dude, I got freaky ears, remember? These bitches hear everything!” Zeruki slapped the side of his helmet for emphasis, before he flinched, “Ow. LOL. Anywhoodle-doodle, he’s out of confinement again. Back on the streets, you get it? His daddy-oh paid his bail or whatevs.

Fallen is fuckin’ nuts, man, I’ll bet nothin-touchin’ he’s gonna come visit Makey-dakey-sharky-chef. He’s, uh… what do those weeby-dweebs call it? Yonder-wander. Sssssunder-thunder. Whatever, LMAO, one of those. He’s got a bone to pick with Faslet, and a general lack of a thinkpan. So…” He sucked air through his teeth and blew another raspberry, before popping his lips. “Yeah. Watch out for Fally-bally.”

Corden stared at him, before he nodded slowly. “Okay, I’ll let Ken-ken know.” He heaved a sigh, stepping back. “Thanks, Zeruki.”

“Yeppers-peppers, Cordy-bordy-bro-bot.” He rolled his R’s, and made a buzzing sound. He raised an arm and rolled his glove forward, checking a device wrapped around his wrist. “Oh, brrr, I gotta get home. Mama’ll be wanting dinner before sunrise.” He snapped a two finger salute to Corden. “Until next time, bro-bot!”

With that, he turned, ran for the edge of the roof, and leaped off, shrieking, the fuzzy end of his tail the last thing to disappear from view.

Corden rolled his eyes, walking over to the edge of the building and looking down.

Zeruki was not a smear of cyan on the pavement, but instead a blur, bounding between the walls and roofs of the skyscrapers and buildings like a free-running character in a videogame.

Corden faintly heard him shriek again, cackling manically.

“He’s nuts.” Corden told Batmom, who chirped in amused agreement. “Guess we should go home, too, huh?”

Corden shook out his hands, a burst of psionic energy rocketing across his body as he stepped off the other side of the building and made his way home.

[queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm]

Daminette December Day 5: Fire (Continues from day 4’s prompt of gaming)

——————————————————————————

Damian Wayne Al Gul was never known for backing out from challenges. So when the opportunity came to “unmask” Ladybug, you best believe he was determined to seeing that to completion. A game plan began brewing in his head, “How am I going to get a Parisian streamer/designer to come to the states?” He muttered to himself, “There need to be a reason.”

‘What could make her want to come?’ Damian thought. There in his room, you could smell the oil and hear the gears turning inside his head. He brought his fingers to his temples, completely lost to the world at the momment. And then, it hit him. “I’ve got it!” He almost screamed, “I could make it into a sponsorship!”

“Hey, Demon-Spawn!” Jason barged into the room. A kunai flew passed his head, “Do- Watch it! Anyway Brucie wants us in the living room.”

Damian scowled. His plans would have to wait for now. This had better be good. As he made his way to the living room, Damian didn’t have the slightest clue that old Brucie Boy was about to make his job a hell of lot easier.

*Line Break*

On the other side of the world, our favorite girl had just finished “Tim Drake’s” commission. The client didn’t give much detail into what they wanted, all they said was to make them a suit and mask for the masquerade. Marinette had full creative liberty over the suit and mask. She wanted to go over the top, but on the off chance it was actually Timothy Drake himself it needed the right amount of subtlety to be functional.

(A/N: I’m not really good at describing clothes, but I couldn’t find anything that looks like I have in my head. Sorry!)

Marinette doesn’t do themes often, but she decided this design would become the newest part of her “Elements” collection. The suit jacket itself was a dark green, almost gray, color with multicolored leaves hand stitched into the material. Marinette had barely made it visible, but if one looked close enough it was definitely there. The pocket square was olive green with brown undertones as was the bow tie. The suit’s pants were the the same color as the jacket. The mask, however, the mask made the piece come together. The mask itself was brown, but the small details on the mask were lined with gold thread. Everything about this look screamed nature.

It had taken her a week to complete, and boy was it worth it. Marintte was relieved it was over, but loved the finished result. She packaged the suit and mask duo and placed her handwritten thank you note inside. The note read, “Dear Mr. Drake, Thank you for commissioning me for your gala. I do not know if it is the real Tim Drake and if it’s not please remember you do not have have to lie to get my attention. But if it is in fact Timothy Drake, himself, I want to thank you for this opportunity. I hope everything is up to your standards. Please continue to commission me for anything! Thank you for shopping at “Miss Fortune” Bug our! Signed, Ladybug” Marinette went straight to the post office to ship it to the American adress and returned home shortly after.

The next day at school would have Marinette begging for someone to put her out of her misery. It was announced that the class had won the Wayne scholarship to visit Gotham. And while Marinette was happy her hard work had seen results, it meant more work would be piled onto her. Ms. Bustier had cut her train of thought off, “Oh, and before I forget, we are invited to the Wayne’s annual Christmas charity gala. And Alya, there is absolutely no recording or interviews. If you fail to adhere to these rules, you will be bard from any and all other activities involving the Wayne family.”

Alya looked deflated by that fact. Lila was going to cook up some lie about knowing the Wayne’s, but once again Ms. Bustier had opened her mouth again, “Lila, we all know about your condition to lie uncontrollably. That being said, if you feel compelled to lie about knowing the Wayne family I would keep your mouth shut. Gotham is known as the city with the highest crime rate in the world. The Waynes have been known targets of Gotham’s villains, we wouldn’t want to be put in danger.”

Marinette had smirked at that comment and Lila eye had twitched, “Of course Ms. Bustier!”

The only thought that was going through Marinette’s head after that was, ‘What am I going to wear?’

*Line Break*

A month had passed and the trip to Gotham was tomorrow. Marinette decided to tell her followers on her twitch why there would be no more streams for another two weeks or so, “Today I just want to let you guys know that I will not be going live for like two weeks. I’ll be in America with my school for a trip. We’ll be attending a very important event there! I hope you guys won’t forget about when I’m gone!”

The comments and donations came in hordes. Most claiming that they could never forget about a gaming goddess. There where some asking about where in America she was headed to, “Well, usually I wouldn’t say anything. Buuuut, this is a very large city! We are headed to Gotham city!”

At 3:28 pm Damian Wayne, felt his heart stop. Ladybug would be in Gotham because of her Parisian class for an important event. There was only one Parisian class that had won if he remembered correctly, he’d have to ask Tim. Damian grabbed his phone in a attempt to see if Marinette would answer this frantic texting.

Her phone dings on stream, “Wow, I’m sorry guys I thought I had that on silent,” Marinette silences her phone but pays no attention to the contents on it. Her phone continues to buzz, “I’m so popular today,” she giggled, “To Damian, who I know is watching, can you please stop texting me when I’m live? Please and thank you. And before you heathens ask, no Damian does not know who I am so do go snooping to try and find out who he is,” She said in her heavily accented English.

Damian decided he would talk to her later, lest she be angry at him. The stream was relatively short today, only an hour and a half. Marinette had to go so that she would “actually be alive in the morning” as she put it. And when the cat is away, the birds go and play. Damian donned his Robin persona as he took it upon himself to continue his mission in uncovering Ladybug.

As he suspected, only one class from Paris had won the scholarship. The class president’s name had also just so happened to be none other than Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Damian then deduced that Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Ladybug are the same person. Oh, what fun this was going to be.

During the Parisian class’s time in Gotham, they had left Marinette behind 5 times. Let me repeat that. Caline Bustier, an educator and chaperone, had left one of her students in one of the world’s most dangerous cities not once, not twice, not even thrice, but five times. Thankfully on her first time she had ran into a young Arabic man named Damian. Marinette laughed at how much this Damian had reminded her of her client. He wasn’t wearing her designs though so she couldn’t tell if they were one and the same, spoiler alert: they were!

The night of the gala had arrived and Damian asked to accompany her as her date. Marinette would have normally said “no, thank you” but Damian and Marinette had gotten to know each other over the course of her adventures in Gotham. So instead she said, “Yes!”

Marinette had spent a month on her newest creation. The purpose for this gala and this one alone. It would make its debut in her “Elements” collection, after the trip. Marinette was particularly proud of this one, this time the theme was fire and boy was there going to be one. The mask she wore was lined with blue to symbolize one of the hottest flames there are.

(A/N: As stated earlier I’m not good at describing clothing, so here’s a picture of what I’m talking about. Also this is not mine and kudos to whoever did make it because I want this for myself.)

Damian waited patiently for his date to arrive. He was dressed in the exact opposite way. Cool blues and slivers donned his suit. His mask was white with red linning to contrast Marinette’s blue. None of what he was wearing was of “Miss Fortune” though. There wasn’t enough time for him to ask.

When Marinette exited the elevator, Damian had the wind knocked out of him. She looked like ethereal and in that momment Damian wasn’t sure if she really existed. He had seen the dress on her streams while she was making it, but this was the first time he had seen Marinette wearing it. Marinette was the epitome of regality.

But when Marinette saw Damian dressed like the prince she’d known him to be, Marinette almost fainted. Together they looked like gods gracing mortals with their presence. Anyone who saw them, assumed such as well. They’d stop and stare at Adonis and his Aphrodite.

They walked the red carpet and at that moment Marinette realized three things, one: She would have to reveal herself as Ladybug, two: she would have to explain herself to her followers, and three: Damian is that Damian Wayne???

“Surprise?” He said with a raising of his shoulders.

“We’ll talk later,” she said lowly.

Together they passed the reporters to enter and Marinette made her big reveal, “Miss! Miss! Who are you wearing? It’s gorgeous!”

“I’m wearing my own design! I run a website called Miss Fortune. You would probably recognize me as Ladybug on Twitch though,” she giggled.

Before she could answer anymore questions, Damian pulled her inside to the actual Gala. He couldn’t wait to see the looks on his brother’s faces when they relized who he had on his side. And by the sound of the shriek that ran throughout the halls, Tim and Dick had just found out. They raced over in an attempt to introduce themselves to her.

Marinette noticed that Tim was wearing the suit she had made back in November. She paled when she remembered accusing him of lying in her note, “You are wearing my design. You weren’t lying to me!”

Marinette was apologizing and Tim didn’t need it. She had every right to be suspicious whenever someone claimed to know or be part of the Wayne crew. Jason had a Batcow when he noticed the angel of a girl on the arm of a demon. And then freaked out even more once, he heard who she was.

The rest of the night went off without a hitch. Well... that was before Alya and Lila were escorted out for recording and lying on the Wayne Family name. Oh, boy legal was going to have so much fun with them.

Bruce Wayne seen four of his children huddled around a small French-Asian woman. He thought he should introduce himself. Unknown to Marinette Bruce was also wearing her work. Apparently Damian had commissioned that suit for Bruce’s birthday. Marinette almost fainted for the second time that evening.

As the party came to a close, Damian and Marinette stepped out to chat alone, “I know this is kind of forward, but would you like to accompany me on a date soon?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Marinette smiled as she rested her head on Damian’s shoulder while staring at the sky.

Fire is volatile. It can burn, destroy, and even kill. But fire is also rebirth, warmth, and passion. Marinette is the fire to Damian’s ice. Complete opposites that complete each other, just as it should be.

——————————————————————————

A/N: So the two shot is over!!!! Did you all like it? I think this one is my favorite so far. In any case thank you for all the notes, comments, and reblogs on the last part. I really appreciate it! If you want to be tagged let me know in the comments!

@daminette-december2019 @persephonebutkore @gingerdaile @seraphichana @mystery-5-5 @krispydefendorpolice @jardimazul @royalchaoticfangirl @theoryfan205 @goblinwhoships @emeraldpuffguide @spicybelladonna

[wolfywordweaver]

Absolute Boyfriend - Chapter 1

This story has been completely written in a fevered state and has not been really edited for readability. I hope it's not too bad. Also, the plot idea is loosely based on the plot of the shojo manga Absolute Boyfriend (thus the title).

Enjoy.

*****

Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch was having a terrible day. A terrible life, really. The envelope glittering offensively at him from the top of the cast iron cafe table was just one more Jenga piece atop his tower of despair and Basilton pressed both of his hands against his face with a groan.

He knew that the party was coming up and that he was required to attend, but all the work at the office had kept him plenty busy and he hadn’t even had a night out with friends much less an opportunity to find a plus one. And if he didn’t find one…well, his father had already made it quite clear what would happen.

“Gay boyfriends don’t grow on trees, Malcolm!” Basilton hissed between his fingers, the years long frustration with his father building in his chest once more.

It was hard enough to find time to date anyone when he worked the demanding job at the law firm that protected Grimm Agricultural Industries, but being introverted and very particular about requirements for a partner made things so much more difficult. He couldn’t small-talk his way out of a paper sack, hated inauthentic compliments, and always turned mean as a coping mechanism for being overwhelmed – which was often.

Glancing back down at the envelope, he whimpered. If he didn’t bring a boyfriend to this party next month, then his father was going to be swooping in with a female escort, one that he would be required to woo and entertain for a few months so that it didn’t look like the esteemed son of Malcolm Grimm needed to have a paid girlfriend.

It was also a thinly veiled attempt on Malcolm’s behalf to force him into a relationship with someone of the opposite sex, as if just spending a lot of time with one of them would somehow cure him of his queerness.

Bollocks.

The sharp buzz of his phone on the table caught his attention and he unlocked the screen to see his cousin’s response to the whole dilemma.

Dev: Don’t be such a drama queen, Baz. Just hop on one of those dating apps, and if you can’t be bothered with that, then get an account with one of those sugar daddy companies that will match you up with someone.

Baz sighed. Why did he think that Dev would be helpful? Being a sugar daddy to some bloke was not a better option!

A notification popped up, reminding him that he needed to be back in the office for a video conference with a few departments. Cursing under his breath, the tall man swept everything into his briefcase and began the brisk three-block walk back to his office.

He had contracts coming out the ears this next month and even some days out in the field with inspectors. Maybe he could squeeze in one night to hit the bars next week? The thought alone made him grimace. How was he supposed to find an acceptable date for a black-tie-event by hitting up the bars and clubs for one night? And he’d never made it through longer than two hours with his cousin, anyway, hating virtually everything about bar-hopping.

The hem of a green coat caught his attention, and Baz took a moment to grimace at the monstrosity someone deemed appropriate to wear out on the streets. It wasn’t a muted olive green, but more like something two shades down from outright Leprechun. There were gold designs stitched along the hems and Basilton wondered if he had somehow stumbled upon the Onceler.

That blasted coat was the only reason he would have noticed the precariously fluttering envelope when the wind finally caught it right and sent it right into the crowd. And while Basilton was not typically someone who cared about the papers carelessly shoved into other people’s bags – it served them right to lose them – the quality of that particular envelope caught his attention.

Textured, black, weighty, and sealed with a wax emblem – Baz snatched it straight out of the air before it had a chance to be sullied by the damp sidewalks. He didn’t recognize the gilded logo or the stamped emblem, so with a shrug he lengthened his stride.

“Sir!” he called out loudly and with only a hint of annoyance. “Sir, you dropped this!” It didn’t look like the Onceler was paying him any attention, so with another couple of steps Basilton was able to reach out and grasp the man’s sleeve. “Sir, you dropped this!”

The mustachoied man came to an abrupt stop and Baz zeroed in on that bit of facial hair. It was...so thin. Why would anyone have such a thin mustache. There was no hint of a beard in sight, and nothing but that ungainly wisp at his upper lip. It wasn’t completely disgusting, but the man had a wide mouth and small eyes. The proportion was all wrong. And that sickly green coat on his shoulders and body almost gave that thin brown hair a sickly hue.

It was the clasp on his shoulder and the thick business card pressed into his hand that made Baz realize that the man had been talking to him the entire time. He gave a panicked smile and tried to beat a hasty retreat.

“Uh, you’re welcome, no problem, and uh-”

“I hope you enjoy it!” the man stated nonsensically. “Its good anytime, no expiration date!”

“Er, thank you. I’ll be on my way.”

The man tipped his hat-less head and was back to walking off at a hurried pace. Baz glanced down at his watch and cursed as he jogged the rest of the way to the office. He was going to be late.

[tungstenb]

WIP Weekend Whenever

Tagged by @rpgwarrior4824, @ljandersen, @natsora, and @inquartata30. Thanks for the mentions, everyone!

Inq and Nat asked for fluff, so that's what I'm gonna try. I don't think my writing style is suited for fluff. But! An attempt was made. ^_-

I'm planning a bit of an intermission between SAtS and BODS — a series of vignettes from the trip to Thessia first referenced in "Cardamom and Cloves" — so here's a snippet from that (~2,500 words).

Enjoy!

Thessia: Day 2

Something's wrong.

It wasn't so much a thought but a feeling, an instinct. A surge of adrenaline to rouse her from sleep, to tense her slack muscles and propel her to act. One short intake of breath and she shot upright. Eyes keen. Mind ready.

Stillness. Early dawn.

Not wrong, only different. She'd forgotten.

Armali.

Shepard sank back down onto the plush bed, her sigh lost in the breeze rumbling with the crashing surf. Beyond the vast bedroom windows and billowing sheer curtains, new light tinted the scenery outside in a cool muted grayscale, the sky dilutely inky, the ocean mercurial, the scattered islands and jutting rock formations awaiting the colors of day, just beginning to come to life with swaying trees and flocks of birds. She sighed again. Allowed the last of her hypervigilance to bleed away. And as she shifted, turning to her left, she couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips.

Beside her, Liara slept soundly, facing away, curled up comfortably under a drape of sheets. The relaxed curve of her shoulder rose and fell slightly with her steady breathing, the gentle sheen of microscales still somehow catching the dim early light. She glowed, even in the gray.

Shaking her head, Shepard barely suppressed a quiet breathy laugh, all amazement and relief and disbelief. She never thought she could have this. Never thought her heart could feel so full. She reached out, stopping just short of running her knuckles gently over Liara's arm, or sweeping the fallen strap of her nightgown back up over her shoulder.

She wouldn't wake her.

Hand sinking into the pillowy mattress, Shepard propped herself up and swung her legs over the bed, taking a deep breath, rolling out the residual soreness and tension in her shoulders, stretching her neck, massaging her bad leg. She stood. Breathed. Stretched again. The woven rugs were soft beneath her feet and the stonework cool as she made her way to the kitchen. Priority: coffee. Leave it to the asari to perfect the tech even for that. She hummed as she scooped the fragrant grounds into the machine, tapping a few buttons to start it brewing.

By habit she brought up her omni-tool before remembering she'd decided to ditch her usual early-morning reading for the week, her daily newsfeeds and all but the highest-priority messages muted, their pinned widgets grayed-out and transparent on her homepage. She clicked her tongue over the whirring and dribbling of the coffee maker, then wandered to the refrigerator, idly appraising its contents.

The rental house had been stocked with essentials before their arrival — maybe standard Armalian fare, maybe items a bit more suited to human tastes, maybe things Liara had requested specifically, Shepard couldn't be sure. Two large glass bottles, one green juice, the other milk (or something milk-adjacent). A variety of eggs cradled in a basket, some small and pastel, some larger, textured and mottled with bluish spots. A package of dense, doughy bread, sliced, cylindrical in shape. Small blocks of what appeared to be cheese, or butter, or another sort of cultured or aged dairy product, wrapped in decorated waxy paper. Assorted vegetables in crisper compartments. A bowl of shiny berries. A jar of… whatever the hell. She grabbed it, unscrewed the top, took a whiff. Fishy.

Best wait for Liara to wake before attempting to cook. Bit out of her element, at least with these ingredients. Chances were she'd fuck it up, Liara would wake up laughing at her and her sad burnt breakfast lump, and they'd have to go out to eat. And maybe Liara'd prefer to go out anyway, head to a quaint little cafe on the waterfront that starched its cloth napkins and served fancy drinks with like, olives and celery sticks or whatever the garnish for socially acceptable breakfast/brunch booze was here. Probably best to defer to her judgment; this was her home, after all. But she could, at the very least, have tea ready for her when she woke.

Taking the milk-like bottle and setting it on the counter, she readied and leveled her translation overlay. Tapped for an audio sample. Melikhratun, said a silvery voice in her earpiece. She poured some in a glass and tasted it. It was reminiscent of melted vanilla ice cream, even in thickness, and it coated the interior of the glass. Kinda weird, oddly tasty. She shrugged and set the glass aside, skimming through the article.

Melikhratun: a sweet liquid cream/yogurt made from haavi milk, rich in… well, everything. Fat, sugar, protein, vitamins, sometimes probiotics; eezo content variable, generally ranging from 0.5 to 5.0 ppm, depending on livestock origin and feed. Ideal for the energy needs of those who make ample use of biotics. Many regional versions, cultured and uncultured, in a multitude of flavors, some seasonal, some staples, some festive varieties only making brief appearances for annual holidays, most notably porfuranq flavor, for Janiris. Either drunk straight, used in recipes, mixed with other beverages — and essential for serving arwamaasi, a tea made famous in Serrice.

She tapped the link to arwamaasi, the article popping up beside the one for melikhratun, humming a tune as she shuffled over to the pantry.

Arwamaasi, arwamaasi… that one also sounded familiar.

The hinge squeaked as she opened the pantry door, and she turned. In the sliver of the bedroom still visible from the kitchen, she found Liara still sleeping soundly, face serene, arm relaxed resting before her. Thankfully undisturbed by the squeal of oxidized hardware needing oiling — constant humidity and salty sea air would do that. With a quiet breathy chuckle — and a mental note to tend to it later — she turned back to her search.

Translation overlay active she scanned the labels, looking for a match among the tins and boxes and jars lining the shelves. The pantry was well-stocked — nonperishables left by previous guests — and she scanned over the bubbles of transliterated text that popped up in real-time.

Arwamaasi, arwamaasi, arwamaasi, she repeated, silently. Liara had said the word before, back on the Normandy, the syllables rolling off her tongue as sweetly as the scent of spice that permeated the air and lingered on her lips after she'd drunk cup after cup, counting on the kick of caffeine to keep her awake and alert long after staring at her terminal had strained her eyes and made her mind weary.

"It's just not the same without melikhratun," she'd explained to Shepard, but assured her she enjoyed it even without the rich, sweet Thessian dairy product. Not practical to keep it aboard: perishable, spendy, difficult to acquire without eezo contamination. I'll see what I can do, regardless, Shepard had thought. Errands on the Citadel. What's that stuff called again? Alone, she'd detoured on Tayseri Ward and ordered coffee from an asari-owned cafe, hoping to jog her memory. Thought to ask for something nice to put in tea, a specific kind of tea, what's-it-called? Stopped. No, just the coffee. But… god, no. The gesture would be too forward. Her omni-tool chimed as she finalized the transaction and rocked, agitated, on her heels.

Pull yourself together.

It had ached, hurt like hell back then. Soft freckled cheeks and supple lips and spiced tea and she'd punched the Normandy's elevator console just a bit too hard, because it wasn't right, all these impure thoughts she couldn't shake, but what could she do but go run on the treadmill for half an hour and blow off that steam and longing and frustration because fuck, Liara had to know what she was doing to her when she talked so smart and sucked on her teeth and licked her lips and smiled like that.

No fucking way in hell should she even think about making the first move.

But if Shepard swiveled to her left — and she did, then — there, only meters away, Liara slept, that placid comfort clear on her face in the early light, and that sight ached too, but it ached so good. Warm and full and perfect and — god, how did she get so lucky? Bouncing on her heels, she quietly hummed while her nose and her eyes crinkled in a grin she couldn't fight, and she shook her head, scoffing in disbelief.

Shepard turned back toward the pantry, peering through the hovering transparency over her forearm. And a match. She waved the translation app away, tin in hand, flicking back to the article.

Arwamaasi: developed by tea artisans in Serrice. Made with leaves soaked in concentrated spices, then expertly woven into packed shapes designed to bloom when steeped; then fermented, where they grow in pungency; and then aged, where they condense into pellets as they dessicate. High in caffeine, this tea is treasured for its distinctive flavor, heightened with the addition of melikhratun.

Making it would be simple enough, and she collected the rest of what she needed — the melikhratun already sitting out — and switched the electric kettle on. The dry, compact tea pellets rattled in the tin as she pried off the top, then stuck her nose inside. Sniffed once and pulled back at the pungent sting. Punchy. Smells like a concussion but probably tastes real good. Gingerly, she plopped a pellet into a glass teapot.

Shepard poured a mug of coffee and drank, leaning against the counter as the tea kettle heated. It was good coffee. Really good, actually. Even better in the quiet, with the gentle humid air, the soothing rhythmic crash of the waves, the incredible view. She smiled, eyes lingering on Liara, still fast asleep —

The kettle beeped shrilly and Shepard spun to turn it off, shushing and admonishing it for its disruption, and quickly poured the boiling water into the glass teapot while sneaking glances toward the bedroom.

Stupid noisy thing. Hopefully it didn't — nope, still sleeping.

The packed cluster in the teapot unfurled lazily like some sort of sea creature, releasing amber swirls as its delicate leafy arms swayed in the steaming water. Shepard sipped at her coffee, waiting for the tea to finish steeping, tapping her fingers against the countertop as she sang soundlessly. She topped off her own mug before finishing Liara's tea preparation.

Coffee in one hand, tea in the other, she returned to the bedroom, setting the tea cup down on the nightstand. And as she lingered there, smiling, the sweet scent of arwamaasi spices wafted on the humid breeze. She leaned over, kissing Liara lightly on the cheek. When she pulled back, though Liara's eyes remained closed, a sleepy smile warmed her face.

⁂

Something warm and sweet tinged Liara's fading dreams. She stirred. Yawned. Stretched, breathing deeply as she sat upright, spilling out of a loose cocoon of soft sheets. Before her, on the nightstand, was the steaming source of that familiar scent, sweetly spicy and full as it mingled with the fresh air and tickled her nose. She picked up the cup and swiveled to look behind her.

Unsurprisingly, Shepard's absence on the bed meant she was out on the balcony. There, she sat, ankle on the opposite knee, coffee in hand, staring out at the ocean.

For a moment Liara just waited, watching her, one leg tucked up on the bed as she drank her tea. She'd never seen her look so relaxed. Never had her heart felt so full.

Eventually she slid off the bed, greeting Shepard with a light brush of her hand on her shoulder and a playful tousle of her hair.

"Mornin'. How's the tea?" she asked, scooting over in her chair to make room.

"Perfect." Liara sat, their shoulders brushing.

They didn't speak for some time, Shepard resting her head on Liara's shoulder, both watching the birds and boats and waves as the sky continued to lighten and the comfort of closeness was enough. Shepard set her mug on the table first, hopping off the chair and heading down the balcony stairs before Liara could ask where she was going. Reluctantly, setting aside her own tea, she followed.

The bottom tier, at water level, served as a dock. As Shepard leaned against the partial railing, taking in the scenery, Liara nestled up beside her. "Did you see something?" she asked.

"Something?" Shepard scoffed in amazement. Gazed back out at the ocean. "Everything," she said, awed.

Liara only chuckled softly in response, the warming breeze tickling her crest and her affection leaving her speechless. Pausing, she traced the curve of Shepard's cheek, her skin soft and slightly — as she'd recently learned to say — peach-fuzzy. "What did you want to do today?"

"That's such an open-ended question." She took Liara's hand and cupped it in both her own, running her thumb over her knuckles. "Dunno. This's your home. Anything. Surprise me. I'll even close my eyes the whole way there, if you want."

Liara shook her head, amused. "I would be willing to wager a significant credit sum that you couldn't manage to keep your eyes off me for a minute," she teased.

"Oho. Oh. One whole minute."

"An entire minute." Liara smirked. Lowered her hand from her grasp. "Okay. Let's practice."

"Okay." Shepard's gaze was unwavering as she shifted her weight from foot to foot, hands at her sides.

"I'm starting a timer," Liara warned, and brought up her 'tool.

Shepard closed her eyes, the hint of her smile still there, as she took Liara's hands in her own.

Hands occupied as they were, Liara couldn't reach out and cup Shepard's cheek, run her fingertip over the scar on her brow, trace the stubbly texture of the buzzed hairs on the sides of her head. But she could, in this moment, lean forward and kiss her.

"Five seconds," Liara announced smugly, pulling away.

"Hey — uh, no!" Shepard sputtered. "Sabotage. Doesn't count."

Liara flicked up her brows. "Try again, then?"

"I have a feeling by 'try again' you mean — ahhh…"

Liara kissed her again, pulling her close. Suddenly, she gasped and staggered back — and not because Shepard's fingertips had found pressure along the ridges on her spine.

A trio of maidens skipped by on a motorized skiff, squealing and hollering their delight at the show while triumphantly waving protective hats and fishing gear. Liara clapped her hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

Shepard, shoulders rocking with silent laughter, cleared her throat. "Uh, where were we?"

"Day plans," Liara said, removing her hand from her mouth just enough to speak.

Shepard continued to rock with laughter. "Right," she deadpanned.

"Hmm." Liara gazed upward, sucking on the inside of her cheek as she thought. Looked back to Shepard, raising her brows. "Armali Natural History Museum?"

"Oh shit, dinosaurs!"

"Excuse me?"

Shepard, expectantly wide-eyed, mouth excitedly open, burst into actual laughter.

"Is that a 'yes' or a 'no'?" Liara pressed.

"It's a 'whatever you want to do today, Li.'"

"Petraaa."

That earned Liara a nose-wrinkle. "Nobody calls me that."

Liara tapped the end of Shepard's nose and shrugged, grinning. "I do."

"At the very least," Shepard said, playfully swatting the arm attached to Liara's nose-bopping-hand away, "we should talk breakfast first." She took Liara in her arm, pulled her close, kissed her shoulder. "There's some weird-ass eggs in the fridge if you know how to cook those. Or we could eat out… hey, why are you looking at me like that?"

Her grin turned devious. "I think I'd like that," she said, and she grabbed Shepard's hand and pulled her up the stairs.

[writethehousedown]

i'm burning for you (shalaska) - freyja

A/N: hello!! I really didn’t mean for this to get up to 8k, but, here we are. I figure we all need a little beach fluff in our lives, right? Also, this is technically spring break, because it worked better for my purposes, but it works for a summer challenge. At least, I hope so.

Summary: Alaska’s crush on Sharon Needles has been manageable only because Sharon Needles does not wear anything remotely sexy. Too bad Raja decides Sharon’s going to be the model for her new swimsuit spread. Or, Sharon wears seven very, very distracting bathing suits, and Alaska’s spring break is completely and utterly fucked. 7.7k.

DAY ONE OF SPRING BREAK

“Spring break is a time to relax, right?”

“Mhm.”

“The idea is to get away from it all, right?”

“Sure.”

“‘It all’ includes hopeless crushes, right?”

“Why not?”

“Then explain to me how this is fair?”

“My eyes are telling me it’s very fair,” Willam says, sliding her sunglasses down her nose to leer over at the ice cream hut. “Maybe even a blessing.”

“I hate you,” Alaska says, but she lets her eyes follow Willam’s gaze. The sight that greets her confirms it: her spring break is completely, utterly, unfairly ruined.

Sharon Needles is standing at the stationary ice cream truck, talking animatedly with Jinkx Monsoon and completely oblivious to her enraptured audience.

“This is homophobic,” Alaska says, her eyes never leaving the other woman.

“I was just about to say gay rights,” Willam says, and Alaska takes a deep breath.

Alaska has had a crush on Sharon ever since she cracked a joke the first day of their shared government class last semester, so, naturally, Alaska has learned a few things about her: Sharon is a poli-sci major in her junior year. Sharon is at the top of her class. Sharon throws the best Halloween parties on campus. Sharon fights with the pastors that come to yell at passers-by on the quad. Sharon exclusively wears ratty t-shirts and ripped jeans. Sharon sneers at the word ‘sexy’ like it spit on her mother.

Sharon Needles is currently getting ice cream dressed in the sexiest bikini Alaska has ever laid eyes on.

It’s black, with a simple bra and a high waisted black bottom. Netting covers the top and ties around the neck, standing out against Sharon’s pale skin. Gold caps off the end of each string, catching the light attractively when Sharon shifts, laughing. It hugs Sharon’s figure tightly (of fucking course, it’s a bathing suit), showing off… everything.

“Staring is rude,” Willam says, and Alaska tears her eyes away from Sharon’s ass, cheeks burning.

“I wasn’t staring,” she says automatically. “Let’s go lay down with Courtney.”

“No ice cream?” Willam asks, voice verging on a whine, and Alaska ignores her, marching back down the beach towards Courtney, who is lazing in the sun and has been since three hours before, despite her skin already being perfectly bronzed.

“Oh, hello!” Courntey says, pleasantly surprised as Alaska flops down next to her. Willam daintily lies down on her other side. “How was the ice cream?”

“Apparently Sharon’s too sexy to be getting any ice cream,” Willam says simply.

“Willam!”

“Ah,” Courtney says sagely, looking at Alaska with sympathy. “She does look good today. I just saw her with Jinkx Monsoon.”

Alaska groans, giving into temptation and looking back at the ice cream truck just in time to see Sharon catch a drip of melted ice cream and lick it off of her finger. She does it exaggeratedly slowly, clearly in an effort to make Jinkx laugh, but all Alaska can focus on is the way her red lips split into a slow smile around her tongue.

“Fuck my life,” Alaska says, watching as Sharon cackles at the face Jinkx is making. A little bubble of jealousy springs up in her belly - she should be the one making Sharon laugh.

“Calm down,” Willam says flatly, and Alaska glares at her.

“I’ll calm down when she stops wearing that swimsuit and goes back to baggy t-shirts. Where the fuck did this even come from?”

“I think Raja Gemini got her hands on her,” Willam says.

“So Raja Gemini is to blame for ruining my life,” Alaska groans, laying down in defeat. Or maybe she owes Raja her life. Either one.

“She’s doing a swimsuit project for the school magazine,” Courtney says excitedly. “She’s done at least seven different designs, and they’re all supposed to be crazy unique. It was actually supposed to be last year’s spread, but they couldn’t find the right model.”

“She rejected Naomi Smalls, Violet Chachki, and fuckin’ Courtney,” Willam says, and then she pauses as if in thought. “I guess I would want someone with boobs, too.”

“Hey!” Courtney shrieks, laughing. Alaska shrugs.

“Makes sense,” she says. “Those girls are too skinny, anyway.”

Willam snorts. “You’re one to talk. Sharon could break you in half.”

“Yes, please,” Alaska says.

“Why don’t you go over and ask her, then?”

Alaska looks at her. “You have to know that’s not an option.”

Willam shrugs. “Your fingers, I guess.”

Alaska hits her with Courtney’s rolled up towel.

-

DAY TWO OF SPRING BREAK

“Tell me again why we chose to come to the most popular beach?”

“Because going with my parents to their new lakehouse would have sucked harder.”

“I don’t know,” Alaska says, her book forgotten on her stomach as she stares twenty feet to her left. “At least there would be a chance of me finishing Macbeth.”

“You don’t go to the beach to catch up in your English classes, whore,” Willam says. “You go to ogle at everyone.”

“Well,” Alaska says grimly. “I’m certainly ogling.”

Courtney had been right - Raja Gemini is doing a photoshoot, it is based on swimsuits, and Sharon is her model. They’ve decided to do the shoot on the beach itself, and currently, they are too close for Alaska’s sanity.

She watches as Raja jams the feet of her tripod into the sand, laughing at something Sharon has just said and tossing her long, straight black hair behind her back as she fiddles with her equipment. Her swimsuit is fun, made up of a strappy pink top and bottoms with a gigantic eye on the ass, but Alaska’s eyes gravitate towards Sharon no matter what she tries to focus on.

Sharon stands just off to the side, patiently waiting with her hands on her hips, completely oblivious to the way Alaska’s mouth goes dry just looking at her.

She’s in a one piece today, made up of a dangerously see through lace that shines when the sun hits it. It’s certainly unique - it covers her chest in a turtleneck and has sleeves that go down to her wrists. Her legs are bared normally, her pale skin offset brilliantly by the olive green of the fabric, and her lips are painted a dark eggplant.

If this carries on for the rest of the week, Alaska is completely screwed.

“We have to change spots,” she says, as Sharon walks over to help Raja with her camera. God, she’s so helpful. And considerate. And hot. “Like, immediately.”

“I fought a ten year old kid for this spot,” Willam says. “That’s not happening.”

“Willam,” Alaska whines, flipping over to glare at her friend. Willam is unmoved, expression blank behind her mirrored sunglasses. “If I have to suffer like this for much longer, I’ll die.”

“I’ll make sure to say nice things at your funeral,” Willam tells her. “Courtney yelled at me about the kid. I didn’t sit through that just to leave two days in.”

“Courtney’s getting you a margarita right now,” Alaska says drily. “I think she’s over it.”

“Yeah,” Willam says. “Having a girlfriend sure is nice.”

“Don’t act like she wasn’t the one to ask you,” Alaska snaps back, and Willam raises an eyebrow.

“So you’re never going to make a move?” she asks, and Alaska turns to look at Sharon again, forlorn and resigned to her fate of forever looking from afar.

“That’s exactly what I– what the fuck is she doing?”

Courtney is currently traipsing towards Raja and Sharon, two margaritas in her hands and a huge grin on her face. As she nears them, she turns her head to meet Alaska’s glare. She winks.

“I’m going to kill her,” Alaska says lowly, horror creeping under her skin, and Willam laughs.

“I guess Courtney’s going to make a move for you,” she says, and dread suddenly breaks over Alaska in a cold sweat.

“She’d better fucking not be,” she says, watching Courtney finish talking to the other two. “I swear–”

“Courtney!” Sharon hollers, and Courtney stops making her way back towards Alaska and Willam to turn around.

“Yeah?”

“We’re having a party tomorrow night! You and Willam should come! Alaska too!”

Alaska’s breath catches at the sound of her name.

“Yeah!” Courtney calls back, but not before she flashes Alaska a cheeky grin. Alaska hates her. “Totally!”

“I’ll text Willam the details!” Sharon shouts, and Alaska turns to stare at Willam.

“You have her number?” she asks incredulously.

“I have everyone’s number,” Willam says, shrugging. “Plus, we smoke sometimes.”

“You smoke sometimes?!” Alaska cries. “Why haven’t I heard about this?!”

“It’s not important!” Willam says, widening her eyes with annoyance “I smoke with everyone!”

“Smoke?” Courtney asks before Alaska can fire back an response, flopping onto the gigantic beach blanket Willam had procured at the beginning of the trip. “I would kill for a joint right now.”

“You made me leave the weed behind, remember?”

“Right.”

Alaska turns her attention back to Macbeth, over the conversation, her face burning and more absurd jealousy making it hard to focus on the words. If she can just get this act finished –

“Awww!” Courtney squeals, sounding excited. “They’ve started the shoot! Sharon looks amazing!”

Alaska is required by law to look, and when she does, her heartbeat goes straight to her underwear. She can’t tear her eyes away from Sharon, lounging on the sand with her blonde curls strewn beneath her, giving the camera the bedroomiest bedroom eyes Alaska has ever seen.

This isn’t fair.

“Damn,” Willam notes from behind her. “I thought she was going to be awkward.”

“I’m entranced,” Alaska says, watching Sharon shift positions. She’s only half joking. “I’m bewitched.”

“I’m bored,” Willam says. “Let’s go swimming.”

“I swear, you have the attention span of a goldfish,” Courtney says, looking reluctant to stop watching the shoot, but standing up anyway. Willam shrugs.

“Sorry,” she says, clearly not. She looks at Alaska. “You coming?”

Alaska grimaces. “I need to finish this,” she says, looking at Willam apologetically. She lifts up Macbeth. “Sorry.”

“I would have just taken ‘I’m too horny’,” Willam says drily, and Alaska’s jaw drops.

“Bitch!”

“Have fun!” Willam says, grabbing Courtney’s wrist and tugging her towards the water. Alaska waves them goodbye until they’re too wrapped up in each other to even think about her, and then she forces herself to look back at her book. She hadn’t been lying - she needs to read. She will finish Act One by the end of the day, god help her.

She gets two lines in before Sharon’s laughter floats by, and suddenly, Lady Macbeth’s speech is completely lacking in engagement. Before she can help it, Alaska’s eyes trail up towards the photoshoot, and a jolt runs through her at the sight of Sharon straddling a chair, her legs spread and on full display.

Alaska doesn’t look at Macbeth again until Sharon is off of the beach and out of her sight.

DAY THREE OF SPRING BREAK

Raja’s parties have always been loud, drunk, and glittery, and this one is no exception.

It’s a beach party, so Alaska, Willam, and Courtney all show up in their swimwear. Except - they have absolutely no intention of swimming.

They all have makeup on - Willam’s bright and sparkly, Courtney’s subtle, and Alaska’s the best that she could manage. Willam has body glitter spread down her arms and legs, which has spread to Alaska and Courtney by mere association, and Alaska can only hope that the chunky blue sparkles go well with her bubblegum pink bikini.

“Now this is a party!” Willam shouts over the music, and Courntey nods, grinning.

“You know what it’s missing?” she shouts back.

“Us!” Willam yells, and then they’re making their way through the crowd to the makeshift bar, which is a fold out table littered with red solo cups and booze. Alaska’s heart stops with every platinum blonde girl that they bump into on the way, and she’s relieved when they make it to their destination seeing neither hide nor hair of Sharon.

Willam fills one of the cups with beer out of the keg and thrusts it at Alaska. Alaska shakes her head at it, too nervous to drink and not the biggest fan of beer, anyway.

“Not tonight!” she says loudly, and a sudden voice from behind her makes her jump five feet into the air.

“Wow, didn’t have you pegged for a stick in the mud!”

She whirls around to find Sharon standing just beside her, a red solo cup in her hand and her cheeks flushed with excitement and alcohol. As if her sudden appearance wasn’t enough to kill Alaska on sight, she’s in another exquisitely fitting bathing suit, black and glittery and with a deep, deep V.

“Um,” Alaska says intelligently, her eyes glued to the pale expanse of Sharon’s chest, and Sharon grins.

“You like it?” she asks, glancing down at herself. “Raja made it by hand - I’m not allowed to go swimming with it, because the glitter will wash off. I’m not entirely sure she’s suited for swimwear.”

Alaska laughs, regaining her footing, a little. She will not make a fool out of herself right now. She’s sober, and Sharon knows it - she won’t have an excuse for being an idiot in the morning. “I’m not sure you should really be swimming in October, anyway,” Alaska drawls, referring to the spider web shape of the strapless bra cups, and Sharon cackles.

“It’s not her fault,” she says, grinning. “I requested something a little spookier.”

“Well, I like it,” Alaska says, openly admiring it now that she has permission. “It’s my favorite so far.”

“So far?” Sharon asks, raising an amused eyebrow. “Have you been sneaking peeks?”

Alaska feels like her face is on fire. “Uh–”

“Alaska,” Sharon admonishes, but there’s a smile threatening to break through her scandalized frown. “Raja doesn’t want anyone to see until the spread is finished.”

“Then don’t do it on a public beach!” Alaska cries. “You’re distracting!”

“Am I?”

Alaska hadn’t thought blushing harder was possible, but the heat creeping up her neck says otherwise. “I mean - with the cameras, and everything - it’s a whole production, you know.”

Sharon laughs at her stammering, and Alaska can’t help the affection that warms in her chest at how loud it is. “You can say it’s my bad modeling,” she says, and she touches Alaska’s arm like she’s sharing a secret. Alaska freezes, afraid of somehow scaring her away. “I have no idea why Raja chose me, but I’m milking it for as long as she thinks I’m worth it.”

“You are,” Alaska says without thinking, and then she sucks in a breath, watching Sharon’s face for confusion - or something worse.

Instead, Sharon leans forwards a little, frowning. “What?” she says, louder than before, and Alaska can’t help but sag with relief.

“I said ‘good idea’!” she shouts, and Sharon’s face splits into another smile.

“Let’s go outside!” she says. “I can’t hear a goddamned thing!”

And before Alaska can respond either way (yes - of course she’d say yes), Sharon’s grabbing her hand and leading her through the crowd, towards a pair of sliding glass doors near the back. Her ears ring as they exit the house, the sudden silence more of a relief than she’d expected, and Sharon slides the door shut behind them, muffling the music even further.

“Thank god,” Sharon moans. “I thought my head was going to burst in there.”

“Really?” Alaska teases. “That seems kind of lame for someone who throws the best parties on campus to say.”

“Halloween parties,” Sharon corrects, like Alaska doesn’t already know. “And I’m usually already drunk by the time those start. Whatever’s in those kegs doesn’t seem to be doing the trick, tonight.”

“You mean I’m talking to a sober Sharon Needles right now?” Alaska cries, pulling her face in exaggerated shock. “No.”

“Yes,” Sharon says, nodding gravely. “It’s horrible.”

“I don’t think you were even sober for Dujour’s class,” Alaska says, shaking her head. “Can I take a picture with you? This needs to be documented.”

“Well, I can’t believe you were sober for Dujour’s class,” Sharon says, her tooth gap on full display. “It was a nightmare even when I was drunk out of my mind.”

“That was a government class!” Alaska laughs, staring at Sharon in amused disbelief. “You needed that class more than I did!”

“I had your notes!” Sharon says. “I’m sure I got more out of those than I would have out of Dujour’s mouth.”

“You’re welcome, by the way,” Alaska drawls. “I’m pretty sure my notes are the reason you don’t have to retake that class.”

“I said thank you!” Sharon says, her defensive tone undercut by the huge smile on her face. Alaska finds herself mirroring it, Sharon’s grin infectious.

“You were drunk!” Alaska tells her. “That hardly counts!”

“Then allow me to say it again: thank you, my hero,” Sharon says, and then, before Alaska can tell her that sarcasm doesn’t count either, she grabs her hand and bows over it, kissing her knuckles.

Alaska is certain that her face goes at least five shades of red, Sharon’s lips soft and burning against her fingers. “You’re welcome,” she says weakly, as lightly as she can with her heart threatening to pound out of her chest. Suddenly, she is very, very aware that she and Sharon might as well be alone together, the sliding glass door practically a chasm between the quiet beach and the roaring party.

Sharon lets go of her hand as soon as she’s done, giving Alaska another gap-toothed grin. Her lips are black to match her bathing suit, her blue eyes done up in shades of grey, and Alaska’s breath catches in her throat as she watches the party lights dance across her face.

“Now,” Sharon says, like nothing remotely romantic or intimate has just occurred. Alaska thinks she might have whiplash. “Do you like swimming?”

“What?” Alaska asks, her face still burning from earlier and her brain struggling to catch up.

“This suit may not be functional, but tomorrow’s is,” Sharon explains, “I want someone to swim with me tomorrow. Sun tanning isn’t exactly my thing.”

Alaska laughs at her. “No, I wouldn’t expect it to be,” she says dryly, and Sharon shrugs, grinning.

“Well? What do you say?”

Alaska’s heart starts to quicken, her palms sweaty. She bites back the ‘Of course!’ she wants to say, instead sticking to her teasing. The last thing she wants Sharon to think is that she’s overeager - she does not, under any circumstances, want to fuck this up.

“What happened to Raja?” she asks. “Or are you only using her to get fame and fortune?”

Sharon snorts. “I wish,” she says, rolling her eyes up in a playful expression. Alaska is entranced. “But I don’t expect Raja’s graduation project to make me anything but masturbation material.”

“Sharon!” Alaska cries, unable to help the laugh that escapes her. A pleased smile curves across Sharon’s face.

“I only speak the truth,” she says. “And Raja doesn’t like to swim - she’s afraid of the water.”

“She is?”

“More specifically the undertow,” Sharon says. “I don’t like thinking about it much either.”

Alaska twists her lips in acknowledgement. “I guess, but–”

The sliding glass door suddenly opens with a sharp bang, making both women jump and Alaska cut her sentence short with a small yelp. She whips her head around to look at the door, already upset at being interrupted. Dammit.

Willam stands in the doorway, looking somewhere between her fourth or fifth drink, grinning like a loon. “‘Laska!” she shouts, much too loudly. “Courtney’s chugging the keg! Courtney!”

“Courtney?” Alaska repeats, disbelieving. As a rule, Courtney only drinks things served with at least one toothpicked fruit - Alaska doesn’t think she even knows what cheap college beer tastes like.

“It’s crazy!” Willam yells, eyes wide, and she walks over to grab Alaska’s wrist, tugging her inside. “Come quick, or you’ll miss it!”

“Wait!” Sharon says, and Alaska stops, resisting Willam’s drunken attempts to keep pulling her with a strength that only comes with the will to please Sharon Needles. “Tomorrow?”

“I’m there,” Alaska manages to say without stuttering, and her heart flutters as she says it, the glitter on Sharon’s bathing suit sparkling attractively in the moonlight. “When?”

“7 pm, by the lighthouse?”

Alaska has plans to go to some bonfire with Willam and Courtney at seven, but it takes her all of two seconds to decide that it’s not at all important. “Perfect.”

Sharon smiles, and it’s sweeter than the grins she’s been shooting Alaska all night. Alaska could look at her forever. “It’s a date,” she says.

Alaska is pretty sure her heart actually stops.

All she can do is stare, her jaw slackened and her cheeks burning, for a too-long moment. Sharon gives her a strange look, laughing a little.

“Are you alright?”

“Um,” Alaska says, because she’s stupid and her brain stopped functioning the moment Sharon arrived on the beach in that fucking bikini. “I’m, uh–”

Willam, always helpful only on accident, suddenly gives a particularly hard tug against her arm, and Alaska is jerked back into the thumping music of the party, bodies pressing against her as Willam leads her straight into the middle of a crowd. Courtney is in the middle, upside down and downing beer from the keg, but Alaska can hardly bring herself to care. Instead, her mind keeps wandering towards Sharon, her blonde hair nearly white in the moonlight and her eyes glittering with amusement.

It’s a date.

She doesn’t know if the way her stomach flips is out of nerves or excitement.

DAY FOUR OF SPRING BREAK

The sunset is gorgeous.

It’s pink and yellow and orange, glittering across the water with blinding light, the clouds streaks of bright coral against the sun’s burning yellow. Alaska glances at its arresting beauty, sighing appreciatively, and then she goes back to staring at the woman next to her.

Sharon’s swimsuit is a bright red one piece, with cute white pinstripes that nod to the forties, the sharp angles of her waist adding to the post-war feeling. The plunging neckline, however, is very much reminiscent of the modern era, and is very much what Alaska’s eyes keep getting stuck on.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Sharon says, her eyes still on the horizon. “It’s like looking at sherbet ice cream.”

“Mhm,” Alaska says, raising her gaze a little to rest on Sharon’s face. Her makeup is lighter, today, with only a bold red lip and winged black eyeliner, and Alaska finds the painted on beauty mark charming. “Love it.”

Sharon turns to look at her, and she wrenches her gaze quickly to look out at the sunset, her face burning. “Something tells me you’re not looking at the sunset,” she says, her voice teasing, and Alaska blushes so hard she can feel her ears burning. She looks at Sharon apologetically, unable to meet her eyes.

“I - uh - I’m–”

“I’ll make sure to let Raja know,” Sharon continues, giving Alaska a fond smile. Alaska immediately stops attempting to say anything, her heart bouncing around her ribcage. “She wasn’t so sure about this one, so it’ll be good to hear.”

“What?” Alaska asks, completely lost, her ears still warm. “I don’t - what?”

Sharon frowns, glancing down at herself. “The swimsuit? You want it, don’t you?”

Realization clicks in Alaska’s end, and suddenly, relief along with a strange hint of disappointment has her nearly falling over. Sharon’s completely oblivious - thank god. “Yes. Yes, the swimsuit. That’s what I was looking at.”

Sharon doesn’t look convinced, her eyes lingering on Alaska’s face. Alaska feels like a butterfly pinned to styrofoam. “You do like it, right? I’m not just assuming?”

“No,” Alaska says hurriedly, surprised. Sharon sounds almost insecure, unsure of herself, and it’s something Alaska never wants to hear in her voice again. She keeps forgetting that Sharon isn’t used to dressing like this, no matter how much it seems like she’s doing it to torture Alaska specifically. “I love it. It’s very forties.” She stumbles over the ‘f’, meaning to say flattering and chickening out at the last second.

Sharon grins. “Thanks,” she says. “You can relax, I’ll stop fishing for compliments.”

Alaska doesn’t know whether to feel relieved at the unintentional save, or to try and defend Sharon from herself - she doesn’t know which way is up most of the time, around this woman, so this is completely hopeless. She finally speaks after a too-long pause. “You weren’t–”

“Let’s go! I’ve been dying to get in the water all day!”

Sharon grabs Alaska’s hand, and Alaska doesn’t breathe the entire time Sharon drags her towards the water, Sharon’s fingers curled around hers the only thing on her mind. She finally sucks in a breath as they hit the water, the cold making goosebumps blossom across her skin.

“Jesus!” Sharon says, stopping as soon as the water reaches her thighs. It takes actual effort for Alaska to keep her eyes from lingering there. “No one told me it was freezing!”

She squeezes Alaska’s hand harder as the waves come up to hit her stomach. Alaska feels too warm to notice the water brushing across her own thighs, her heart in her throat.

“Do you want to get out?” she asks, even as disappointment sinks in her gut. Relief wars with it - she wants to spend more time with Sharon, spend all of her time with Sharon, but her anxiety tells her that if she spends too much time with her, she’ll fuck it up. She doesn’t know if she can handle that.

Sharon shoots her a scandalized look, letting go of her hand to turn towards her. Alaska tries not to mourn the loss. “Of course not!” Sharon says. “We just have to go in all at once.”

Alaska pulls a face at the idea. She’s never liked the ‘bandaid’ approach to things. “Are you sure?”

“What?” Sharon teases. “Are you scared?”

“Yes,” Alaska says plainly, and she smiles at the laugh Sharon lets out.

“Be brave for me?” she asks, and Alaska’s stomach does several somersaults.

“Of course,” she says, and Sharon grins.

Alaska follows Sharon as she wades out further, both girls shrieking as the icy water comes up to hit some new section of skin. Sharon stops as the water comes just below her shoulders, her hair streaming behind her like a mermaid’s. She looks enchanting in the orange of the setting sun, the blue of her eyes almost electric as the sun shines across them.

“Count of three,” Sharon says. “We duck under.”

Alaska nods. Sharon takes a deep breath.

“One,” she says.

“Two,” Alaska counts. Sharon’s smile is blinding.

“Three.”

They duck under, Sharon heedless of her makeup and Alaska steeling herself for the shock of the cold. It’s freezing, but her body soon acclimates to the temperature of the water, and she surfaces feeling refreshed.

She comes up before Sharon, so she watches as the other woman comes up for hair, her hair slicked back from her face and her mascara bleeding a little, a huge grin splitting her face. She looks stunning, and Alaska’s breath gets caught in her throat as she takes her in, her eyes bright with excitement.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since Raja told me she wanted me to model for her,” Sharon laughs. “After I figured out she wasn’t joking, of course.”

“Of course she wasn’t joking,” Alaska says before she can stop herself. “You’re perfect for this.”

Sharon raises her eyebrows. “Believe me, I’m not. Her suits are doing most of the work. All I have to do is stand the way Raja tells me to stand.”

“Please,” Alaska blurts out. “The suits are hardly the reason I’ve been watching the photoshoots.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence. Alaska thinks very hard about ducking under the water again and not coming up again.

Sharon is looking at her with a curious expression, and Alaska suddenly needs to get away right now.

“What do you m–”

“I have to go,” Alaska interrupts, panic making everything too much, too fast. “I just remembered, I have - something.” She starts wading towards shore, but Sharon grabs her wrist.

“Alaska, wait,” she says, and Alaska turns to look at her, avoiding her eyes. Her eyes get caught on Sharon’s lips, set in an adorable pout, and she has just enough time to imagine what it’s like to kiss her before she rips her gaze away. “What plans?”

“Um–” Alaska says, completely panicking, Sharon’s fingers too warm around her wrist and her eyes too intense on Alaska’s. The sun is dimming, casting them in purplish grey. She casts about for a good excuse, and she lets out a breath when she finds one. “There’s a bonfire. I’m already late - I promised Willam I would go with her.”

“The bonfire?” Sharon asks, letting go of Alaska’s wrist. Alaska turns to go again, cursing when she hears Sharon start to follow her. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I don’t know,” Alaska says, even though she knows exactly why. They make it onto the beach, and Alaska grabs her towel, drying off hurriedly. “I - I don’t know.”

“I doubt that,” Sharon says. “What did you mean, earlier?”

“What?” Alaska asks, playing dumb. She can’t find her phone. Where the fuck is her phone?

“Alaska,” Sharon says, and she sounds frustrated. Alaska winces. “Do you like me?”

Alaska freezes, terror ripping through her as she scrambles for a denial. “No,” she snaps out, panic making her voice hard and sharp. Sharon takes a step back, her eyes widening, and Alaska feels guilt drop into her stomach like a deadweight. She could cry at any moment. “I don’t,” she continues, her voice gentler. She can only pray that Sharon doesn’t hear the way her voice trembles. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I didn’t realize liking me was such a stupid idea,” Sharon says, hurt bleeding through her voice. Alaska wants to sink into the ground and die.

“No, I didn’t mean–”

“I know,” Sharon interrupts, her shoulders slumping. She looks put out - Alaska hadn’t realized how badly she wanted to go swimming. “I know what you meant.”

Alaska finally finds her phone underneath Sharon’s towel, and relief courses through her as she shoves her feet into her sandals. “I have to go,” she says, and Sharon snorts, but there’s no laughter in it.

“So you’ve said,” she says. “Have fun.”

“I will,” Alaska says, plastering fake-cheer all over herself, and she practically runs away, the image of Sharon and her closed-lipped smile, bathed in the moonlight and hair still dripping, burned into her mind.

She can’t help but feel like she’s just ruined something, but she has no idea what.

DAY FIVE OF SPRING BREAK

Alaska avoids Sharon to the best of her abilities, life threatening embarrassment making her stomach twist at even the thought of facing her after last night, but of course, she still ends up stumbling across her.

She’s getting margaritas with Willam and Courtney, which is fun only until they both reveal themselves to be wildly unsympathetic to her plight.

“So you spent two nights flirting with her,” Willam says, after giving Alaska a long, unimpressed stare when she’d finally answered Courtney’s incessant questions about her ‘date’, “only to freak out when things started to actually go somewhere.”

“Nothing was going anywhere,” Alaska snaps. “I fucked it up, and she noticed.”

“Didn’t you say you two were on a date?” Courtney asks, frowning. They move up in line. “Sounds to me like that’s what she wanted.”

“She obviously called it a date as a joke,” Alaska tells her. “I’m not stupid.”

“Debatable,” Willam says. Alaska could punch her.

“You should at least try to talk to her,” Courtney says. “You can’t just run away from her in the middle of a date and never talk to her again.”

“That shit ain’t right,” Willam agrees, and Alaska rolls her lips between her teeth.

“It wasn’t a date,” she reiterates. “And I can’t talk to her. I have no idea where she’s staying - she could be anywhere right now.”

Courtney frowns at her. “She’s right there,” she says, pointing down the beach. “I thought you’d noticed.”

Alaska follows her gaze to find Sharon and Raja in the middle of another photoshoot, this time close enough for Sharon’s feet to be in the water.

Alaska can’t look away from her.

She’s dressed in a two piece, the bottoms designed to look like high waisted blue shorts and the top a black and white pinstriped bra, cut into a sweetheart neckline that suits her perfectly. Her hair is done up in round, loose curls, spilling over her shoulders and back, and a white sailor hat sits cock-eyed at the top of her head. Her lips are painted a bright red, pulled into a pout as she salutes the camera, her other hand at her hip.

“I can’t go down there,” Alaska says, shaking her head. “I can’t go up to her and try to talk about my predatory behavior when she looks like that.”

“Predatory is one way to say it,” Willam says, and Courtney hits her on the arm. She turns to look at Alaska eagerly.

“You’re not predatory, silly,” she says. “You have a crush, and so does Sharon. Go down there and fix what you’ve broken.”

“Ouch,” Alaska says, and her stomach twists nervously at the thought of doing what Courtney tells her to. “And I can’t - she doesn’t– She doesn’t think of me like that.”

“How are you supposed to know when all you do is stare at her like some stalker?” Willam asks, and Alaska shakes her head. They reach the counter, now at the front of the line.

“I just know,” Alaska says, resisting the urge to stamp her foot with the frustration that’s bubbling up inside her. They just don’t get it. “I have, despite popular belief, actually held a conversation with her. I’m not doing it.”

“But how–”

“Welcome, ladies - how can I help you?” the cashier asks, giving them all a friendly smile. Alaska relaxes as Willam and Courtney start ordering, relieved that their interrogation is temporarily put on hold.

She sneaks a glance back at Sharon, who’s now crowded with Raja around the camera, no doubt looking at the pictures they’ve just taken. She’s sure they’re all wonderful.

Sharon’s ass looks great in those shorts.

Alaska’s never going to be able to look her in the eye again.

DAY SIX OF SPRING BREAK

“This is stupid,” Willam says. “I can’t believe how stupid you’re being right now.”

“It’s called self-preservation,” Alaska says.

They’re sitting on their blanket, sneaking glances at Raja and Sharon, in the same place they’d been for most of the week. Sharon is stunning, in an eggplant bikini that suits her pale skin, made to look like it’s been wrapped and twisted around her body. Her makeup is dark to match the suit, and she’s so hot that Alaska thinks she might die.

“Right,” Willam says drily. “Why won’t you just go talk to her?”

“Because,” Alaska sighs forlornly, her heart fluttering as Sharon’s lips twist up into a smile. “I can’t.”

Sharon’s eyes flick over to her, and her heart skips a beat. She tries not to feel hurt when Sharon immediately looks back at Raja, seemingly without giving Alaska a second thought.

“I don’t think she wants me to, anyway.”

DAY SEVEN OF SPRING BREAK

It’s not the last day of break, but it is the last day they’re on the beach, and Alaska’s plan is simple: avoid Sharon, mope around while Courtney and Willam rub their happiness in her face, and maybe sneak a peek at Sharon’s next bathing suit.

Willam, unfortunately, has never had very much respect for Alaska’s plans.

“I invited some people over,” Willam says from her spot next to Alaska on the couch, her eyes never leaving her phone. Her voice is nonchalant, but Alaska still shoots her a wary look.

“Who?”

Camping out in the Belli family’s beach house had been Alaska’s idea, a stroke of genius she’d had the previous night. She can’t seem to avoid Sharon successfully on the beach, so she’ll leave it entirely. She won’t be able to catch sight of Sharon if she’s sitting on a couch watching The Golden Girls on Willam’s enormous television.

“Raja, Jinkx,” Willam lists. “Sharon.”

Alaska’s heart does a swan dive into her stomach.

“That had better be a joke.”

Willam looks up at her. “It’s not.”

Alaska turns off the tv, turning to face Willam full-on, murder in her heart. “Willam, why the fuck would you do that?”

“Because Raja asked if she could,” Willam says, and then, “and because I thought it might be a nice opportunity for you to make out with her.”

“Willam,” Alaska hisses, panicking. “How could you?”

“You’ll be fine,” Willam says, hopping off the couch. “Though I suggest you get ready - they’ll be here in half an hour, and Sharon and Raja are coming straight from their photoshoot.”

“No,” Alaska breathes, aghast.

“Yes,” Willam says. “At least go put some mascara on. You look like you’re a hospital patient.”

“I hate you,” Alaska says, and she really feels it.

“You’re wearing pajamas,” Willam tells her. “They have ‘cunt’ printed across the ass.”

“Fuck,” Alaska says, and she stands up. “Jesus fuck, Willam!”

“It’ll be good for you,” Willam says, as Alaska races past her towards the stairs. “Courtney agrees!”

Alaska makes sure to slam the door to the bathroom extra hard.

-

Sharon arrives in a red one piece that practically screams ‘lust’, and it is the most homophobic thing to have ever happened to Alaska.

It’s wine dark and strapless, and the front of it is laced like a corset, allowing Sharon’s pale skin to peek through. The sweetheart neckline perfectly hugs her, emphasizing her full chest and her collarbone. Her lips are painted to match, her eyeshadow dark, and Alaska might go into cardiac arrest just looking at her. It’s like looking at a 15th century bar wench. Alaska wants her to pin her up against the wall and–

“We brought wine?” Raja says, her deep voice startling Alaska back into her body, and she realizes that she’s been making them wait in the doorway for a full minute.

“Great,” Alaska says, her face on fire, and she lets the two of them in, trying not to wince at the cordial smile Sharon gives her. She makes a note to kill Willam later for making her answer the door.

“You can set it on the counter,” she directs, and Sharon follows Raja into the kitchen, where Willam, Jinkx, and Courtney are waiting. Alaska lets out a breath as she closes the door, trying to decide if she’s relieved or hurt that Sharon doesn’t want to be alone with her.

She doesn’t know why Willam’s decided that this is going to be helpful in any way, but she supposes she has to deal with it, now. Deal with being around her crush who’s disgusted that she has a crush on her for who knows how long.

Not the ideal way to spend her last night on vacation.

“‘Laska!” Willam calls. “Come in here! We’re trying to decide what to play!”

Alaska sighs, steeling herself for more of Sharon’s apathy.

Fuck my life.

-

Willam, Courtney, Raja, and Jinkx all conveniently vote to play Seven Minutes in Heaven, despite Sharon and Alaska’s vehement protests and the fact that none of them have been in high school for at least three years.

They’d found an old wine bottle that Willam’s mother had filled with sand and dried flowers on an end table somewhere, and they’d emptied it, Courtney suggesting that they select the first two participants by spinning it.

Conveniently, and without any sort of finagling of Willam’s, or strategic flicks from Courtney, or purposeful nudges from Raja, the bottle lands first on Alaska, and then on Sharon.

They’ve been standing in Willam’s locked closet together in awkward silence for two minutes.

“Well,” Alaska says, when she can’t stand it anymore. She can just barely see Sharon’s face in the sliver of light coming through the bottom of the door. “This is awkward.”

Sharon shifts, and Alaska blushes as her hand accidentally brushes the side of Sharon’s thigh, snapping her hand back quickly. Sharon sighs, sounding annoyed. Guilt twists into Alaska’s stomach at the sound. “Sorry,” she says. “I didn’t want this to happen.”

There’s a pause. “Clearly,” Sharon says, and though her voice is light, there’s an edge of bitterness to it that twists into Alaska like a knife.

“I’m being serious,” she says, desperate to make Sharon at least understand that she’s not trying to force herself on her. “I didn’t ask Courtney to kick the bottle like that.”

“I know, Alaska,” Sharon says, and she only sounds more irritated. Alaska winces.

“I’ve been trying to keep my distance these past few days! They just won’t let it go, even though I–”

“I know,” Sharon snaps, and Alaska slams her jaw shut, jumping a little. “You made that perfectly clear on Thursday. I don’t need to be reminded.”

Alaska scrambles to appease her, guilt making her feel ill. “But I–”

She suddenly stops herself, her brain finally processing Sharon’s words and coming up with only a series of question marks. “What?”

“You’re not interested in me,” Sharon says, and she sounds upset. “I get that. But believe it or not, it hurts when someone tells you they can’t stand to think of you like that repeatedly. Especially when–” she cuts herself off, inhaling quickly. Alaska feels hope flutter through her like a butterfly, though she tries to crush it as soon as it comes. What if-?

“Especially when what?” Alaska probes gently, and she lightly touches Sharon’s arm, trying not to let her heart pound too hard as she does.

“Jesus Christ,” Sharon says, but she sounds defeated. “This is embarrassing.”

Alaska’s hope spikes. “Sharon?”

“Only because I can make sure we never see each other again,” Sharon says, voice threatening. “And only because if I’m going to tell you, it’s going to be while we’re playing a game I didn’t think I’d even hear about ever again.” She pauses, and Alaska waits, her heart pounding loudly in her ears.

“I have a crush on you,” Sharon says eventually, her voice quiet and a little shaky. “But, only like, a tiny one - it isn’t a problem, I swear. I won’t make it awkward.”

There’s a brief moment of silence, in which Alaska stares at Sharon, numb with shock.

Then, happiness comes bursting in.

Alaska lunges forwards to kiss Sharon, unable to wait for any longer, pure, disbelieving joy flooding her body with adrenaline. Sharon’s lips are soft and warm, and she makes a muffled noise of surprise against Alaska’s mouth, freezing up underneath her hands.

She lightly pushes Alaska away, and Alaska goes willingly, panic shooting through her like lightning. “Sharon, I’m so sorry, that was unc–”

“I thought you didn’t like me,” Sharon says, her eyes wide. “You told me on the beach that the idea was ridiculous.”

Alaska stares at her for a moment, speechless. It’s like Sharon’s just shown her a sports replay where she’d fumbled the ball and then blamed it on the player who’d thrown it to her. “That’s because I was scared,” she says after a moment. “I thought you were disgusted.”

“Disgusted?” Sharon repeats, disbelieving laughter bubbling over her words. “Alaska, that’s possibly the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Rude,” Alaska says, but she’s too elated to really feel it. She’d been so stupid - Sharon likes her. Sharon has a crush on her. It’s too good to be true.

“So the swimming suits really were working?” Sharon asks, and this time, it’s Alaska’s turn to laugh disbelievingly.

“Were you distracting me on purpose?” she asks, half shrieking, and Sharon grins that bright grin again.

“At first? No. But when I saw how you were looking at me at Raja’s party…”

“Evil!” Alaska cries. “I can’t believe I ever had a crush on someone so cruel! I’m–”

Sharon cuts her off with another kiss, and Alaska melts into it, sighing as Sharon’s fingers come up to thread through her hair, somehow managing to avoid its tangles. She slides her hands around Sharon’s waist, pulling her closer so that they’re pressed up against each other, relishing in the feeling of Sharon’s warmth all along her body.

She moans as Sharon deepens the kiss, breathing in the smell of cigarettes and the ocean. She hums, pleased, and Sharon pushes her forwards so that she’s flat against the narrow wall, sliding her hands down, down, down, over her breasts and her stomach and coming to rest on the waist of her jean shorts.

Alaska breaks off the kiss with a gasp, already squirming with pleasure. “Jesus Christ,” she breathes, and Sharon grins, giving her another quick peck on the lips.

“You want this?” she asks, her voice husky, and it goes straight to Alaska’s panties.

“Yes,” she says. “Plea–”

A loud knock on the closet door has them flying apart, and Alaska tries desperately to will the flush away from her cheeks as they hear the lock being undone.

The door swings open, and Alaska squints her eyes against the sudden brightness and Willam’s smirk.

“Seven minutes are up,” she says, looking them both up and down. “Would you two like to request more time?”

“No,” Alaska snaps, just as Sharon says, “Yes.” She flushes at the contradiction.

Willam eyes them smugly. Alaska wants to kill her. “I’ll let you two figure it out,” she says, taking a step back. “There’s chips downstairs for when you guys want to replenish your energy.”

“Fuck off, Willam,” Sharon says, and Willam smirks.

“Sure,” she says, and then she’s out of the room before Alaska can hit her like she wants to.

“I hate her,” Alaska says, and Sharon grabs her hand, giving her a sweet smile. Alaska’s heart melts.

“I love her,” Sharon says. “She’s the reason I can do this.”

Alaska rolls her eyes, although the smile she can’t help splitting across her face takes away its edge. “Fine,” she says. “But I still hate her. I’ve never been so stressed in my life.”

Sharon’s grin morphs into a sly smile, and she tugs Alaska back towards her, arranging her hand so that it rests on her waist. “I think I know a way to relieve some of that.”

Alaska raises an eyebrow, a thrill running through her as she steps closer. “Oh? Do tell.”

“I think I’d prefer to show you,” Sharon says, and then she pulls Alaska in for another searing kiss, and Alaska melts completely.

Thank god for bathing suits, and thank god for Willam.

[shy-marker-pliers]

High school AU thingamabob

Dark

17 year old senior

class president and is kinda high and mighty about it tbh

“yes i know student council can’t really make any changes without the input of the superintendent but IM THE PRESIDENT AND YOU’RE NOT SO SUCK MY DI-“

does sound/lights for all the shows the school puts on

dating wilford and no one knows how or why they’re together

had a deep as hell voice and a beard the second he hit puberty

takes every ethics/psychology class he can

wants to be a lawyer

that one kid that everyone fears but is actually kinda chill if not a little surly

wears a collared shirt and tie to school every day and would totally get made fun of for it if he wasn’t terrifying

listens to classical music unironically

“oh my god i’m so going to fail this test” *proceeds to get the highest grade in the class*

protector of the gays™️

person: *says something mean to a student because they’re lgbtq+*

Dark: *teleports in front of said student* omae wa mou shindeiru

Wilford

19 year old senior

Yes he still has the mustache

doesn’t give a fuck about what anyone thinks of him

deadass wore a dress to school after one of his friends got made fun of because she wore a suit to a school dance

b u f f a s h e l l

could bench press a teacher if he really tried

on the cheer team

“no i’m not wearing pants, this miniskirt makes my ass look great!”

everyone’s bodyguard

usually attracts a crowd of nervous underclassmen

has mild dyslexia

tol

gives his friends piggyback rides

president of the drama club

works hard enough in school to pass his classes but that’s pretty much it

sleeps in class

Bim

15 year old freshman

vice president of the drama club

wilfords shadow

first freshman to help run the drama club and shoves it in everyone’s face

shouts his gayness from the rooftops

secretly super insecure

loves plants and helps out in the schools greenhouse

named all of the plants but if you tell anyone he’ll stab you

gets mostly B’s and C’s

has mild ocd but not enough to affect him severely

talks like a game show host cause he thinks it makes him sound attractive

it doesn’t

Google(s)

16 year old juniors

identical quadruplets

they have to wear different colors every day or else no one knows which one is which

they’re called the googles because their backpacks match the colors of the chrome logo and they’re super smart

straight A 4.0 GPA students but Oliver has to try a little harder than his brothers

all of them are in the robotics team except for ollie

Blue works on programming and red and green are on the build team

Ollie is the sweetest day of sunshine to ever exist and everyone loves him

he’s basically adopted Eric as his lil bro

tutors people in the library every tuesday and thursday

the other googles disapprove of his relationship with bing but he makes ollie happy so they don’t do anything about it

they all work in a supermarket and they’re saving up for college

ollie wants to be a vet, red and green want to be engineers, and blue wants to be a web developer

Bing

17 year old junior

mostly A’s, a few B’s.

his full name is zachary bing but people call him bing because he’s always trying to one up the googles

dudebro

was pining after ollie for months before chase finally felt sorry for him and told ollie how he felt

they’re dating now and it’s adorable

so soft for his boyf

a really good skater and wins a lot of local competitions

doesn’t study but still gets p good grades

wears sunglasses all the time because he has light sensitivity

Has ADHD

s t r o n k

always challenges people to arm wrestle him

can sing really well and plays gitaur

shares a youtube channel with chase where they skate and to challenges and stuff

Dr. ipiler

18 year old senior

Everyone calls him doc because he helps the school nurse and takes every single biology and health class there is

all A’s

really wants to be a surgeon

best friends with Schneep

huge star trek/harry potter nerd (ravenclaw if you’re wondering)

almost always at schneep’s house studying or just chillin’

kind of a control freak

thinks he’s charismatic but he’s actually kinda annoying

but annoying in a funny way

has a pet ferret that he sneaks into school

feral

espresso and sugar flows through his veins

“i actually got a good sleep last night.” “oh really?” “yeah bro i got a whole half hour!”

super dark bags under his eyes

Host

17 year old junior

all A’s except for in gym class

he has eyes in this

his real name is Simon Charles Teller (there are specific meanings to those names btw look them up) but he’s called The Host because he does morning announcements every day.

has gold eyes and a lot of people find it unnerving

“hey i have a podcast you should totally listen to it”

nocturnal

spends all of his free time in the library

always reading in class but the teachers don’t really care bc his grades are good and he does his homework

wants to be an english/poetry teacher

crushing on the cute shy kid from his english class

doesn’t talk much but he’ll still be nice to you

that one kid who’s always correcting the teachers

Runs the D&D club (he’s the dungeon master)

Eric Derekson

16 year old junior

Mostly high B’s, a couple of A’s.

lives with his uncle mark after he ran away from his abusive dad and is living a happy life

the guy that always volunteers to take care of the class pets over the weekend

animals love him

has anxiety, mild paranoia and autism.

animals, harry potter, and pokémon are his hyperfixations.

he also really likes gardening

crushing big time on hostioli

spends his entire english class staring at him and blushing

is seriously considering joining D&D club just to be able to talk to him

he’s in the art club

wants to be a vet and maybe do some freelance art stuff on the side

Ollie keeps yelling at him to just ask host out already but he’s too nervous

my poor bb boi

Wears sweaters all the time

wears headphones to block out noise if it ever gets too loud at he goes into sensory overload

disaster bi

Yan

18 year old senior

gets C’s

non-binary

has a makeup tutorial channel on youtube and has a pretty decent following

That one weeb

dyes their hair a new color every week

also has a new crush every week

everyone knows who their newest victim is because they never stop watching them

draws anime or cute animals for every art class

wants to be a a fashion designer

does MMA

everyone kinda stears clear of them

writes their first initial along with their crush’s on every notebook they own

has gotten suspended for beating kids up on multiple occasions

doesn’t really have that many friends but they don’t mind

spends their lunches watching their crush

in the drama club and the art club

Randall Voorhees

18 year old senior

C’s and D’s

Eric’s cousin/bodyguard

they have a lot of the same classes and walk everywhere together

loves animals and has like 10 pet rats

he doesn’t really care about his grades because he knows that he wants to be a woodworker/construction guy

makes little houses out of scrap wood for his rats and Eric thinks it’s adorable

always sneaks his rats to school and lets them have play dates with dr. iplier’s ferret

“nO IM NOT RELATED TO JASON VOORHEES HES NOT EVEN REAL SO SHUT THE HELL UP-“

used to live in nyc in queens and still has a pretty strong accent

completely incomprehensible when he’s excited or angry bc of the accent

everyone is jealous of his hair

spends like 100 dollars on shampoo and conditioner and stuff but it’s worth it

acts like the straightest guy in existence but could not be more gay

his boots are always muddy

Yancy

16 year old sophomore

his name is Yancy Bird

g...get it? like jailbird? ahaha...ok i’ll stop

permanent resident of the detention room

but he gets to just chill out and read for an hour so he doesn’t really mind

mostly gets detention for beating up kids that bully others

fuck the system

always wears a leather jacket and blue jeans

“hey, the 50’s called and they want their-“ SMACK. “shut up.”

takes a lot of criminal justice and psychology classes ironically

in the botany club but if you tell anyone they’ll never find your body

everyone is surprised when they find out he’s friends with Eric and ollie

pan but in denial

“i’m not gay guys, that ain’t me, i’m just comfortable with my sexuality. so i can admit when i see a guy with a handsome face and pretty eyes-“

that song is great btw you should listen to it

anyway

always makes really dark jokes and everyone is like “are you ok?”

except for his friends they just laugh

“lmao wouldn’t it be funny if everyone like...died”

[chowtrolls]

A question for my favorite Liam!! Could you tell me a bit about the trolls you've designed yourself? What's your process like?

It kinda depends on the design, I suppose! I’ve designed 27 of my 52 active trolls! That’s not counting trolls I don’t have on my select, like Chello, Veroix, Skulux, Orcais, Kithon, Jahspr, etc etc. Of those 27, 6 are what i’d consider my Original Trolls, ones who’ve been around for years. In those six you can look and see a LOT of myself! I’m gunna put this under a readmore but I’m gunna talk, like, specifically about a few trolls: Bruuno + Chowow, then Jawska + current Bruuno! Doing those ones specifically so I can also talk about my tattoo design process and how that’s changed!

I think Chowow technically predates Bruuno! At the time I was making them, I was really young, like 13? 14? idk. I made them both on a whim- Chowow was specifically made to be paired w/ his matesprit (he was originally gunna be an olive!) and Bruuno was made as the troll version of a beloved oc named Bruno. I put a LOT of my anger issues and trauma into Chowow, as a method of coping with them. I also VERY distinctly remember the day I looked at Corpse and said “I think Chow’s trans.”-> Saying that also helped me realize I’M trans lol. When Designing Chow, I specifically wanted dog ear shaped horns that were unique, in a way. And because Chow was based off my dog Gia...i just kinda looked at her liddol triangle ears and decided his get 2 be that way. His design has stayed...relatively the same, he got a hair cut but he’s always worn tank tops + shorts. Bruuno specifically was always the guy Who Had Tattoos. Bruuno’s muse was relatively dead for a very long time, he really only like Revived in 2018/2019? His original design was based off the OG OC- curly hair, thin as a rail, scattered tattoos that had little meaning. As Bruuno got quads, he got tattoos AROUND those quads, their symbols. I wasn’t very good at making my own tattoos so he had some that i based off musician’s (such as the squares that i think the drummer from TOP has?). As I aged, Bruuno’s tattoos changed ALL THE TIME there is NO rhyme or rhythm to them. I only looked at him and really, distinctly organized it all, when I saw another fuchsia with nice organized tatts, I think his name was Nihkos?? shrugs u_u Loved that mans. You can so very cleanly track my progress in tattoo design by looking at all of Bruuno’s sprites! Which leads me toooooo.............

..........Jawska! Jawska is, at his root, a Bruuno clone. I thought to myself “Hm. I want a Bruuno Clone.” And Thus Jawska Was Born. Typically when I come up with a character, I let them like. Mellow for a bit. In my brain. Rattle them around like a marble in a cup. And sometimes, I have a very VERY specific niche I want them to fill. For Jawksa, I wanted an asexual character whose asexuality was important to him, who was attractive but distinctly unfuckable. Jawska has some very important Design Notes - Curly hair, Distinct Nose, Slit eyes, 3 gills+fin prongs, broad shoulders+chest. I also seriously sat down and thought about his tattoos. His tattoos mean JACK shit. His chest piece + arms? NOTHING. there’s negative meaning. He got it because it looked sick. There’s SOME meaning, in some places- the blackout on his arm covers an old tattoo and the rings on his fingers are to hide the singular ring he once had. While working on his tattoo, i looked at other tattoos and specifically thought about the body parts that SUCK to get tattoos on. Collar bones, elbows, sternum. And I specifically aimed to leave those a little blank, using the negative space to give purpose but also keep in line w/ what people would normally not tattoo. His outfit is specifically something that doesn’t SCREAM fuchsia but doesn’t HIDE it. Like he’s got his fins and his eyes but he doesn’t wear any fuchsia- wears more red! That reflects how he sees himself: as someone on the bottom of the food chain. He isn’t special or important. He’s not royalty, he doesn’t deserve to wear his symbol or his color. He wears rose gold instead of gold because again, he’s not royalty he doesn’t “deserve” the gold, but also because the warmer rose gold fit better with his pallet. He wears baggy pants and a loose fitting shirt to hide his frame. As someone who was in an abusive relationship and someone asexual, he doesn’t want to be seen or perceived, he absolutely doesn’t want people to look at him and be attracted to him. Cargo pants hide the shape of his hips + legs, baggy shirt hides that broad chest. The tears + tank leave JUST enough open for people to not NOTICE what he’s doing! So it seems deliberate. There’s a few small, unnoticeable pieces of his design that work like cogs in a little machine. You wouldn’t look at him and see his low self esteem, or that he’s hiding. Which is what he wants! 

And now back to Bruuno, my beloved idiot. I was going to do Jolene (i really only made jolene because an old friend mentioned there not being a lot of butch women, so i wanted to try my hand at it! another design thing I enjoy is finding niches or concepts I don’t see a lot of, and try to make my twist on them. jolene’s in the process of being a lil reworked design wise so i won’t talk abt her.) but I figured I could explain the bits and pieces of Bruuno now. Any design I make, at least now, tends to be very similar to Jawska- there’s small, unnoticeable bits and cogs, or themes that work together hand in hand. I could honestly sit here for hours explaining all of it. Bruuno is the only Monark who has both horns- even though he was designed first, I had all his “relatives” lose that C shaped horn. How they lost it is different and important to them but Bruuno having both horns is a way to show he’s Different from them. In ANY outfit he wears, its typically loose-fitting or a tank top, right? He has a dorsal fin that he doesn’t like having pressed down, but he also enjoys having his figure disformed. Wearing baggy, open shirts give him a more carefree appearance, which is why he does it often when in the limelight. His more casual outfits tend to be cargo shorts, tactical pants, sweats, and tank tops. He really wears long pants because they hide the robotic leg. Despite that, they are all loose fitting, comfortable, but still have an “edge” to them. He has JUST enough piercings in to have that lil edge but not be seen as a cocky highblood! Enough to impress but not be flashy. His robotic arm is VERY clearly a robotic arm, but it isn’t one that looks incredibly flashy. He’s a gigantic fuchsia rockstar with a million tattoos, of course he’s going to stand out, he has no need to be even flashier with a high tech super cool arm or a billion piercings. Another important aspect is his hair! There’s SO much story behind his hair i won’t even go into it. Bruuno has always had curly hair because around the time I made his design, I cut off my super long hair and suddenly I was left with a mess of curls. In my own experience, people likes touching my hair w/o asking, i’d get teased all the time, I’d get a fuck ton of unasked for comments ( “you’d look better with straight hair.” “boys would like you better with straight hair.” “curly hair looks messy.” gags. die. choke on a dick.) and I kinda used Bruuno to vent that out? I put my insecurity and frustration with my hair into Bruuno. I was too damn depressed to straighten my hair, so I decided Bruuno gets to go through that. He primarily wears his hair pulled back now because he’s also too depressed to straighten it. ok now im too tired to finish this. u_u 

[mskinkyafro]

Cooking For Two (Aurora & MC)

A/N: Hey everyone, I’m back with a new open heart fic! I’m excited and nervous to share this because it’s my first Aurora x mc fic. I haven’t wrote for her much so I tried to capture her as best I could. I just adore Aurora as a character and I wanted to showcase her friendship with Katrina more and how I envision it in between chapters. Which is more comfortable and friendly than what canon pushes. This is a super cute and fluffy piece that I hope you all enjoy!

*Platonic Pairing*: Aurora & MC 

Summary: Katrina & Aurora spend some time in the kitchen.

Side Note: This takes place some time after chapter 6 but before chapter 8. I plan to make more fics around these two and their friendship so if anyone enjoys reading about these two, I’ll make sure to add you to a tag list for any Aurora x MC fic I write.

After an extremely tiring day, Katrina was gratified to finally enter her apartment. Dropping her bag to the ground and kicking off her heels, she reclines back onto the closed door. Running her hand languidly through her hair eases some tension from her body.

“Home at last.” she sighs.

Only a minute passes before she adjusts to get up from her spot to make her way toward the stairs. Right as she takes a step, she feels a graze from a leather-like texture. Looking down, she sees a scowling tortoise greet her.

“Pistachio! I didn’t see you there, buddy. I’m sorry.”

Katrina bends down and picks up the tortoise and presses a small kiss to his head. His scowl leaves and a smile replaces it. Shaking her head in amusement, she puts him down and laughs. As she stands up straight and turns to head to her room, a loud crash followed by a stream of expletives stops her in her track. Spinning in the direction of the kitchen, Katrina rushes over to the next room only to find pans and silverware scattered on the floor, knocked over spices, and a panicked Aurora Emery wiping vigorously at spilled water.

“Fuck! Damn it!”

Katrina cautiously treads into the disarray room, unsure where she should lend a hand at first.

“Aurora? Are you okay?”

“Does it look like it?!”

Katrina shoots her a pointed look. Aurora sighs dejectedly as she gets up from her knees with a drenched rag in hand and carefully moves to ring it out over the sink.

“Sorry to snap on you-- I’m pissed.”

Katrina waves her hand freely.

“It’s fine. So you want to tell me what the hell happened here?”

Katrina reached to push a pile of vegetables to the center of the counter and picked up the topple vials of spices.

“I figured after a few rounds of cooking with Sienna that I could manage a simple dinner for you all. Clearly, I should’ve known better,” she says flinging the wet towel aggressively in the sink.

Aurora leans her back against the cool surface with her shoulders low. Her hand pressed firmly against her forehead. Katrina moves delicately across the damp wooden floor and stands next to the shorter woman and lays a hand on her shoulder, rubbing it in a gentle circular motion.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s not all a bust. This is salvageable.”

Aurora looks to meet Katrina’s gaze, her eyes full of sadness.

“How? Everyone else should be home soon. I’d have thirty minutes, max and the recipe takes at least an hour and a half. Besides, I made a mess.”

Katrina looks around them again and notices things she missed when she reached the kitchen; half-peeled potatoes, vegetable oil tipped over the stovetop, opened ground meat hanging dangerously close to the edge of another counter. She walks away from Aurora and starts to gather everything up and organize them in a fashionable order.

“First thing, depending on how you see it, I have good or bad news for you.”

“And that is?”

“Jackie and Sienna are working late on-call shifts tonight and Elijah said he was gonna get drinks with Sothy.”

“That sounds like good news to you? You can just say I did all this for nothing.”

“Wrong! Look at it this way. This can be practice for next time you make dinner for us. Which will be mishap-free and everyone will be home to enjoy it. Bonus, you get a culinary lesson from yours truly.” Katrina tells her as she wipes up some spilled oil with a paper towel.

“You’re willing to help me cook?” Aurora asks shyly.

“Of course! Sienna isn’t the only chef living here. Plus I love you girl, but I don’t think it's wise to leave you alone in the kitchen too long or you’ll burn the place down.” Katrina teases.

“Shut up,” she scoffs. Rolling her eyes playfully.

“Hey, I’m not a person who frequently burns breakfast.”

“Kat, that was one time.”

Katrina looks at Aurora incredulously. The shorter woman avoids eye contact and folds her arms to her chest as she mumbles.

“Fine, only one time in this household."

“Exactly. Look I’m gonna go change real quick. You gather all the vegetables in one pile and everything else and I’ll be back in a few.”

Katrina turns to leave the kitchen and heads to her room. Not much time passed before she returns in baggy red sweatpants and old white wife-beater pulling her hair back in a high puff. Looking around the kitchen and no longer seeing a chaotic scene before her, she stands next to Aurora in front of the stove. She clasps her hands together.

“You ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Don’t worry, this is gonna be fun and really easy once you do it more often. I promise.”

“If you say so.” Aurora deadpans. Katrina grins at the woman.

“First, before we begin we have to do the most important step when you begin cooking.”

“Wash our hands?”

Katrina pauses for a moment.

“Okay, the second most important thing?”

Aurora stares at her with a blank stare. With a sly smile, Katrina darts out the kitchen briefly before returning with a beat pill and her cell phone.

“Music, duh. You’re black. You should’ve known that.”

“Whatever,” she says with a bemused smile as she pushes a strand of her jet black hair behind her ear.

Katrina sets the speaker down and turns it on. In her other hand, she scrolls down her music library until her finger pauses and presses on the screen. A blast of soulful noise fills the air as Katrina grabs a large pot and fills it with water and sets it on the stovetop to boil. She shimmies pass Aurora and tosses a potato in her hands and holds out the vegetable peeler.

“Hey sister, go, sister, soul sister. Time to peel these po-tat-toes, po-tat-toes.”

Aurora reaches to grab the peeler and begins peeling the skin off into their trash can as she watches Katrina swing her hips in time with the music.

“Patti Labelle? Really, how old are you?”

“Hey, these are classics. The designated genre to listen to when you are about to throw down in the kitchen. Besides, that’s what makes the food taste even better.”

“Ah-huh, sure.”

Katrina sticks her tongue out playfully at Aurora who giggles at her antics. Katrina smiles to herself noticing that since attending her class reunion, Aurora has opened up more to everyone, finally finding her place. She continues her dancing while cutting up bell peppers and onions. Once she got them finely chopped, she bends down into the lower cabinets to pull out a large skillet and a large loaf pan and sets both on two inactive eyes on the stove. Peering over into the steaming pot and seeing the water bubble she calls out to Aurora.

“How’s it coming, my sous chef?”

Aurora moves to stand beside Katrina and brings the potatoes over, spilling the skinless starch over the counter.

“Finished. What’s next?”

“Okay. Chop them a quarter inch and then I’ll have you drop them into the boiling water and we’ll let them cook. Then you can season the meat.”

Aurora follows Katrina’s instructions as the taller woman lightly sautéed the previously chopped veggies in an oiled saucepan. The strong aroma filters through the air and in her peripheral view, Katrina notices Aurora inhales the scent. Kat takes note of the serene and warm smile that frequents Aurora's face lately. Spooning through the cooked veggies one last time, Katrina turns off the burner and sets the skillet aside to rest. She then reaches to set the ground beef next to Aurora as she prepares the wet ingredients for the recipe. Playfully, she bumps her hips into Aurora prompting the quiet woman to retaliate the same. To her surprise, Aurora dances along with the music, dropping it low before picking it back up.

“Umm, excuse me, Ms. Emery?! You’ve been holding out, girl! Since when have you had moves like that?!”

Throwing her words earlier back at her, Aurora replies with a smirk.

“I’m black, duh.”

“Okay, Ms. Smarty-Pants. How come you can’t cook, then?”

“The same reason why you can’t braid.”

“Damn, you didn’t have to come at me so hard.”

The two women laugh and continue ribbing the other as they continue the tasks at hand. Still chuckling, Katrina grabs the stalk of asparagus and drench them with olive oil and light salt before tossing them into an oven. Once she closes the oven door, she then turns back to Aurora who is now finishing up combining the last of the previously cooked veggies with the wet ingredients and seasoned beef. In her eyes, she looks up at Katrina, questioning that she’s doing things right. With a nod, the two women press the mixture into a loaf pan and place it alongside the rest of the food cooking.

“Okay, the meatloaf and asparagus are gonna take about 35min at least and we got a good 15 before we need to check the pot--”

Katrina freezes in place as she stops talking. Right as Aurora opens her mouth to question what’s wrong, Katrina reaches for her phone and clicks repeatedly on the button on the side, increasing the volume of the music as she begins to rap along obnoxiously loud.

“It's going down, fade to blackstreet

The homies got rb, collab' creations

Bump like acne,  no doubt I put it down,

Never slouch As long as my credit can vouch

A dog couldn't catch me ass out

Tell me who can stop when dre makin' moves

Attracting honeys like a magnet

Giving 'em eargasms with my mellow accent

Still moving this flavor,With the homies blackstreet and teddy

The original rump shakers”

She bounces along with the beat, swinging her arm around Aurora. Katrina was going to continue but is cut off by Aurora's own silky voice.

“Shorty get down, good lord, baby got 'em up open all over town

Strictly biz, she don't play around, cover much ground,

Got game by the pound Getting paid is her forte, Each and every day,

True player way I can't get her out of my mind, East side to the west side 

Pushin' phat rides, it's No surprise, She got tricks in the stash

Stacking up the cash, Fast when it comes to the gas

By no means average, She's on when she's gotta have it

Baby, you're a perfect ten, I wanna get in, Can I get down,

So I can win I like the way you work it, No diggity, I got to bag it up, bag it up”

Joy lights up in Katrina’s eyes as she urges Aurora to keep going. Together, the two both belt out the song and dance with each other. They shimmy and swing their hips to the next songs in the queue being as carefree as they can be. Time seems to have barely passed before, a timer goes off. Pausing to catch their breaths and control the giggles that escape their lips, Kat reaches to silent the alarm, while Aurora pulls out the food from the oven. Not too long after, the two set down the finished meatloaf, a bowl of mashed potatoes, and a platter of baked asparagus for the table. Aurora sets down two plate sets while Katrina grabs two wine glasses in one hand and carries an opened bottle of wine to the table and sits.

“Wine?”

“Oh yes, please. Definitely needed this.”

“Even more than this feast you prepared? Because it looks and smells amazing.”

As Aurora accepts a glass of wine, Katrina pinpoints a slight blush on her cheeks as she sips.

“Please, I hardly put this together.”

“Ah ah nope. Aurora, you did the grunt work. I just did little things. You totally did this. Enjoy it-- a matter of fact, relish in your success by taking the first bites.”

Nodding, Aurora gathers a healthy serving of everything onto her plate and takes a bite. A moan of satisfaction escapes.

“Damn, you make it sound really good. Let me test it out.” Katrina fixes her plate and once she places her fork into her mouth, it immediately goes back for more.

The two ate in silence minus the music from earlier playing softly in the background. Both preoccupied with the food in front of them. After a few minutes, Aurora speaks.

“I-- I really couldn’t have done this without your help Katrina. For taking the time to spend to teach me. I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.”

Katrina sets her fork down and takes a few sips of her wine.

“It’s nothing. I’m happy you had fun tonight because I did too. I’m more than happy to make a repeat of it if you’re up to it.”

 “I’d like that,” Aurora says with a bright smile. 

The two talk as they ate, enjoying the rest of their evening.

[tabloidtoc]

National Enquirer, November 2

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Jealous O.J. Simpson killed Nicole Brown over sizzling photos 

Page 2: Melanie Griffith was caught in lockdown meltdown mode outside her Los Angeles home yelling at an unsuspecting laborer and giving him a good working over after he somehow crossed her bath and pushed her buttons but it doesn’t take much to get Mel to blow these days because she’s upset about two things which are getting old and not having a man in her life 

Page 3: Lisa Marie Presley’s son Ben Keough’s tragic last moments were caught on tape as he argued with his girlfriend according to the coroner’s report on his suicide and security camera footage also captured the eerie sound of an apparent gunshot said the officer who viewed the tape -- Ben had hosted a party for his girlfriend Diana Pinto then about 4 a.m. the 27-year-old musician went to his bedroom; two hours later Diana went to check on him and had to jimmy the bedroom door lock with a bobby pin and she discovered his body and called 911 but Ben was pronounced dead at the scene -- since his death a devastated Lisa Marie has blamed herself for not intervening sooner; Ben had been to rehab several months before and Lisa Marie could see he was struggling with drugs and depression and she has kept a close eye on Ben’s gravesite with Graceland’s surveillance system 

Page 4: Anne Heche’s shocking public pronouncement that she wants to reunite with former galpal Ellen DeGeneres was met with fury from Ellen wife Portia de Rossi -- Ellen and Anne were Hollywood’s highest-profile lesbian couple when they dated for three years before their bitter split in 2000 and they haven’t spoken since but Anne announced after her elimination on Dancing with the Stars that she would love to appear on The Ellen DeGeneres Show but Portia has made it clear she wants Anne nowhere near her wife and she believes Anne is using Ellen to drum up publicity for herself, lonely Ryan Seacrest is longing for a reunion with former flame Shayna Taylor but she wants no part of him -- workaholic Ryan announced the combustible couple’s third split in June after eight on-and-off years together -- Ryan’s obsession with being the next Dick Clark tests the patience of everybody around him and it’s made him a nightmare to be in a relationship with as Shayna found out firsthand -- Ryan seemed so cocky and sure that breaking up was the right thing to do but not having Shayna there to lean on has really gotten to him however Shayna is refusing to be played for a fool 

Page 5: Kelly Clarkson made a massive mistake dumping husband Brandon Blackstock according to famed numerologist Glynis McCants 

Page 6: Doting dad Kanye West is spoiling oldest daughter North rotten and it’s causing even more problems between him and wife Kim Kardashian because Kim feels North is getting too spoiled but Kanye won’t hear any of it because North is his firstborn and his princess and he treats her like it -- North is regularly served breakfast in bed on a silver tray and gets whatever she wants even if it’s waffles with strawberries and ice cream and she also has a team of beauticians and a stylist to cater to her every need as though she was a full-grown woman and her wardrobe is extensive and expensive and she never wears the same designer outfit twice plus North also loves to shop online for jewelry and Kanye gives her his credit card and she can spend $100,000 in a single sitting and Kanye just thinks it’s cute 

Page 7: Daring Jill Duggar and husband Derick Dillard are rebelling against her conservative parents and causing a full-scale family war as the couple has publicly defied Baptist patriarch Jim Bob Duggar several times since their 2014 marriage and now they’ve been banned from the 19 Kids and Counting reality clan; Jim Bob’s even demanded that their neighbors have nothing to do with them -- Jill and Derick drew Jim Bob’s fury after criticizing her parents’ conservative views and shutting down their own family factory after having two sons and said they’re stopping there for now unlike Jill’s folks who had 19 kids, dog lover Jennifer Aniston adores her new rescue puppy but potty-training the pooch has been the pits so desperate Jen had to sign up her new pup Lord Chesterfield for private lessons with a dog trainer -- she has two other dogs Clyde and Sophie but they’re well-behaved and know to do their business outdoors and Jen loves them all but she forgot how much work it is to train a puppy 

Page 8: Prince Harry’s wife Meghan Markle revealed her private battle with depression as her struggles with first-time motherhood and fitting in with the rigid royal family pushed her over the edge but Queen Elizabeth thinks her conniving confession is simply a ploy to sully the monarchy -- Meghan described the emotional pain caused by criticism as a death by a thousand cuts and said if people are saying things about you that aren’t true what that does to your mental and emotional health is so damaging -- Queen Elizabeth believes Meghan’s confession is a calculated attack on the monarchy and Meghan is acting like the royals waged a war against her but Meghan and Harry’s actions since they quit have infuriated Her Majesty because Meghan keeps orchestrating situations where she takes center stage appearing to support and put the spotlight on those in need but she turns them all into opportunities to talk about herself and how hard her struggle is

Page 9: Rattled Tyra Banks’ rocky start on Dancing with the Stars has her looking for a way to waltz off the show and she is already trying to back out of hosting because she hates the criticism she’s been getting from virtually everyone plus she’s unpopular with the contestants and is bickering behind the scenes with producers who now regret replacing longtime hosts Tom Bergeron and Erin Andrews -- ratings have also plummeted since Tyra took the helm with the show losing more than a million viewers in early October from the same week in 2019

Page 10: Hot Shots -- Gwen Stefani during a photo session in Calabasas, Tiffany Haddish used a leaf blower during a skit on The Ellen DeGeneres Show, Justin Bieber on a scooter in Beverly Hills, Zosia Mamet donned a unicorn horn as she wrapped the final scenes of The Flight Attendant, Robert Pattinson and Colin Farrell on the Liverpool set of The Batman 

Page 11: John Oliver’s jokey jabs have earned him a crappy honor from the town of Danbury in Connecticut -- after he ragged on tony Danbury on his show Mayor Mark Boughton vowed to rename its sewage plant after him and now it’s official that the Danbury Sewage Plant is now the John Oliver Memorial Sewage Plant and as promised John is donating $55,000 to local charities which has spurred fundraising efforts for local food banks and Boughton is offering tours of the plant for $500 donations to local food pantries, ailing Phil Collins was rocked by ex-wife Orianne’s betrayal and pals fear he won’t make it to Christmas -- the singer was shocked when it emerged that Orianne who he’d divorced in 2006 and reunited with a decade later married another man in Las Vegas and the stunning news prompted him to serve an eviction notice to get her out of his Miami home and his life for good but Orianne refused to leave

Page 12: Straight Shuter -- Nev Schulman on roller blades in an L.A. parking lot (picture), Eboni K. Williams only landed the gig on The Real Housewives of New York City because she co-hosts State of the Culture on Sean Diddy Combs’ Revolt TV cable network and Bravo is desperate to get famous New Yorkers on the show so cameras will be following Eboni around at work hoping to catch Diddy, with Keeping Up with the Kardashians ending E! is looking for the next big reality family and it may be Sylvester Stallone’s daughters Sophia and Sistine and Scarlet Stallone who are all models and not one has a sex tape, with Bravo boss Andy Cohen and axed Housewife NeNe Leakes at war their mutual friends are being forced to pick sides -- Andy gave NeNe access to his famous non-reality show friends and now he’s regretting it -- Kelly Ripa and Anderson Cooper are all Team Andy

Page 13: Kris Kristofferson is battling Alzheimer’s disease and has been forced to retire from singing and acting but the songwriter is in the best place he can be at his home in Maui with family and friends who are surrounding him with love and support, frantic Kate Gosselin is feeling a financial pinch and ready to take a bath on her house by putting her $1.2 million mansion on the market for a measly $815,000 because she’s been struggling with money because she hasn’t worked in a while and living off the money she made in past 

Page 14: Crime 

Page 15: Marie Osmond was blue over being booted from The Talk but husband Steve Craig gave her something to get over it which was a stunning pair of opal and tanzanite earrings worth nearly $3000, Megan Thee Stallion cheated death when she was shot twice in July and is now using the terrifying incident as a platform to empower Black women and she wrote an op-ed saying the attack proved she and other Black women are not protected as human beings -- fellow rapper Tory Lanez was charged with the shooting that left two flesh-shredding wounds in Megan’s feet and allegedly took place after they argued in an SUV in Hollywood Hills 

Page 16: Cover Story -- Rampaging O.J. Simpson was driven into a kill-crazy rage after seeing photos of his ex-wife Nicole Brown Simpson dating hunky young boytoys and flaunting her body in modeling shots -- 25 years after the disgraced football star’s 1995 acquittal intimate images from Nicole’s secret photo album including a picture of the blond beauty posing topless with lover Brett Shaves is believed to have given the jealous ex-jock a motive for murder 

Page 18: American Life -- I found a $1M diamond in the rough 

Page 19: John Travolta paid tribute to wife Kelly Preston on what would have been her 58th birthday three months after tragic death following a secret two-year battle with breast cancer -- John addressed his late love in a touching Instagram post featuring an image from their 1991 wedding day alongside a picture of his own parents as newlyweds, sci-fi legend George Takei has fired yet another shot at former Star Trek castmate William Shatner as the aging actors’ war of words continues to rage on well into their 80s -- George who played Sulu claimed Shatner was jealous of the amount of fan mail received by their late co-star Leonard Nimoy who played Spock but Captain Kirk shot off a testy response and claimed George was making things up and the only person with jealousy is George -- when told Shatner’s comments George calmly remarked that you can tell by those words that he is upset to put it mildly 

Page 20: In a rerun of their long-running rivalry Madonna and Mariah Carey are prepping dueling biopics -- their cold war dates back to the ‘90s but Mariah ramped up their feud when she revealed the very exciting prospect of her biopic but that followed Madonna’s announcement that she was collaborating on her own script -- they’re each obsessed with getting their film out first and getting the right It Girl to play her so the other one doesn’t grab her first

Page 21: Elton John and ex-wife Renate Blauel agreed to zip their lips about their four-year marriage and privately settled her $3.8 million lawsuit over claims he blabbed about their relationship in his memoir Me and the movie Rocketman, Stevie Nicks admitted her insomnia has gotten so bad that she needs therapy or needs someone to hit her on the head with a hammer -- she’s long been nocturnal and it used to be she could sleep from 5 a.m. to 1 p.m. but now says she doesn’t nod off until 8 a.m., singer Amy Winehouse died in 2011 but her dad claimed he still can’t get her out of his house -- former taxi driver Mitch Winehouse who is working on a movie and stage show about the late singer insisted he’s regularly visited by his daughter’s ghost who comes and sits at the end of his bed -- Mitch also said Amy helps around the house in his dreams 

Page 26: Niecy Nash’s new bride Jessica Betts has a nightmarish criminal past according to police reports -- Jessica was arrested twice in Chicago once for domestic battery and then for selling a gun to a minor

Page 28: Stars Who Refuse to Zip It -- cringeworthy confessions and nasty habits and more -- Jennifer Love Hewitt, Megan Fox, Al Roker, Olivia Wilde 

Page 29: Kristen Stewart on Robert Pattinson, John Mayer, Lady Gaga, Suzanne Somers 

Page 32: Demi Lovato’s relentless ex Max Ehrich refuses to let her go and her friends are worried he’s turning into a stalker -- since their breakup he’s been particularly creepy, Tatum O’Neal’s confession that she was ready to jump off the balcony of a Los Angeles home was actually a desperate cry for help -- Tatum was reportedly put on a psychiatric hold at a local hospital after the alleged incident and the event signaled she was in unbearable emotional and physical pain and she feels lost and rejected because she was the youngest Oscar winner ever and now she has trouble finding a job and lost all confidence in herself 

Page 34: India Oxenberg has confessed she was afraid of former NXIVM cult master Allison Mack of TV’s Smallville -- India found herself Allison’s slave and realized she was being groomed as a sexual partner for NXIVM leader Keith Raniere and she was branded with Raniere’s initials in her pelvic regions, a disturbing TV interview in England has sparked new fears for the well-being on boxer Mike Tyson -- Mike looked like the train wreck he was when he was plowing through drugs and was sent to prison in the early ‘90s; he looked barely conscious as he slurred his speech and offered incoherent responses -- Tyson blamed his interview on lack of sleep and insisted his contact with drugs is now limited to growing and smoking pot on his California ranch 

Page 36: Health Watch

Page 42: Red Carpet -- Zendaya 

Page 45: Spot the Differences -- Debbie Matenopoulos on Home and Family 

[wrathofthewind]

v. Dawn

He had at least succeeded at one thing, making the stakes incomparably attractive. Two aerial rings for the grabs? It could take centuries to get your hands on even a single of the necessary stones required to make one, let alone two that had already been refined, honed, primed for use.

Aerial magic was derived from the stones of the En-Aerlil, or as everyone knew it: the endless abyss. A marine sinkhole with a network of maze-like underwater caverns at the heart of the Aegerian sea. In the nearly 3000 years since its discovery, thousands had dived in to find the precious stones or explore its depths, and only a few hundred had returned. Of those that returned, exactly 11 carried with them the powerful stones. Many thought, these stones were the magical core of their world, a source of life and phenomena itself. It was as if they’d removed pieces of the realm’s nervous system and acquired the power of gods. There wasn’t anything particularly dynamic about this power at first, but with steady practice and deep concentration, many started to refine its manifestation.

At first, several families carried with them stones, but now, only 5 noble families, of which the Azurians held 5. Arnalt nodded in the direction of his elder brothers and sisters as he entered the arena. He then turned to the few nobles they’d invited on short notice, and the council. Members of the second most powerful family were also present: Duke Skvellan, and council member Wojra, of House De Ghres. Present were also a few members of Houses Naran and Li Bianq. Only one house wasn’t present if he thought about it, not that they would ever show up in an Azurian palace…

“I hope you win today, 3 Aerial rings and you’ll officially be more powerful than Father, or maybe even the Opal!” The voice was milky sweet and melodious, with only a subtle rasp. It came from his brother, the 11th Prince.

“Bael, I didn’t think you’d rise so early.” Arnalt’s face immediately softened slightly. If it could be said that his relationship with Ithana was at the very least one of mutual respect, compared to all his other siblings, only Bael and him truly got along.

“Tell me about it.” Bael yawned and stretched his arms, “Youth is the only reason you’re so bushy-tailed and ready to brawl this early in the morning, by heavens the sun’s not even out!” That raspy quality, from the tender herbs Bael loved to smoke, was the only reminder to anyone that Bael was in fact older than Arnalt, despite his rounded cheeks and deeply luscious raven curls. It was hard to see them as brothers as well, Bael with a thick dark eyebrows, a mouth as luscious and playful as his curls, eyes that were almond-shaped and constantly curious, with a slight bump at the top of his nose, refined into an elegant tip above his mouth. His skin was light and olive, and his figure was as generous as his meals. He looked like a cherub from the night sky, infinitely younger.

Arnalt in contrast felt paper-pale and gloomy. His own hair straight and flat, the color of hay, his face far more angular, even if it looked softer when relaxed. And he could never smile the way Bael could, his lips thinner and unable to stretch that far. Bael seemed like he could hug the whole world with a single smile, and because he was slightly shorter, Arnalt felt a bit awkward and slightly bent his waist and back, unconsciously wanting to appear smaller so as to reflect their actual age and status. Because Bael, with the million watt smile and the bright green eyes, was in fact the owner of the most profitable of the Azurian city-states.

His trade? The herbs he smoked and the bottle of fruit wine in his hand. He took a leisurely swig from it now.  “I see the usual suspects have shown up.”

“You’d think it was the Trial of Kings.” Arnalt scoffed.

“That silly match where only one Aerial stone is at stake? Pfft, so puny. What is that compared to my sweet younger brother’s challenge for world domination!” Bael’s mirth was contagious, but it made Arnalt pause.

He hadn’t thought much about it when he first proposed the duel. He just wanted a tempting enough offer to make Ithana accept.

He glanced at the rows and rows of seats in the arena slowly filling up. He’d surmised wrong, that few people were coming, but as the hour approached, and even with such short notice, Arnalt realized that a sea of villagers was coming in to witness the event. Knights, servants, nobles, monks, anyone who was close enough to the palace and could attend was actually showing up!

Well shit. So he had to fight seriously?

“Is that… F-Father?” Arnalt never stuttered. Never. Except for one man.

Bael took another swig of his fruit wine. “Ahh… well fuck. Good luck!” He patted Arnalt’s back and moved to sit next to his entourage, all of them dressed in billowy gowns with shades of sunrise, painting a decadent and gilded picture next to the more weary and bleary-eyed nobles who still couldn’t believe they’d had to wake up so early.

Arnalt approached his father and bowed, out of respect, and to not accidentally insult him, and to maybe win a bit of his favor. He wasn’t sure. His father’s generosity was unpredictable, but if he could somehow catch his eye today, he might just be able to do more than let Marius escape.

“My King.”

“Arnalt.” His father’s voice clipped. “You can call me Father when we’re in your household like this. This isn’t the Azurian Sky Hall .”  

“F-father.”

That displeased him, that one simple stutter. Ah well, he rarely got his favor by talking or existing anyway. Maybe his sword would persuade him.

“I hope you win today Arnalt, you’ve put something very precious at stake, so I hope this is a moment to show me how proud I should be of you, and not how you allow Ithana to so easily get away with capriciousness.”

The fact that Ithana had gifted an Aerial ring to her knight was a display of both power and utter irresponsibility in the eyes of the Azurian King. She had won her ring as a prize in the Trial of Kings. And then gone back a decade later and won again, becoming the pride of their family, The Lioness of Azuria. But giving it to her Knight? A mere ward? Why, it was almost as shocking as Arnalt’s ward winning it for himself in a duel. But at least then it hadn’t been Arnalt who gifted it.

But it said more about Ithana that she could care less if she offended the Azurian King. She’d won the Trial of Kings twice, and that alone put her above the rest. She was a renown war general, a tremendous force of spirit and single-handedly purified her Aerial stone until it became “The Gale”. Arnalt could still only summon strong gusts of wind.  

Such a person, Arnalt would face today.

He twisted the Aerial ring in his hand and smirked. When he thought about it, wasn’t it equally capricious of him to allow a Kurian to possess such a treasure? Even as a battle spoil? He shook his head.

Marius had bested her Knight. Fair and square he hoped, he wasn’t sure, he hadn’t really attended that duel. He didn’t think the battle would be that exciting so he’d slept in that day.

Ithana was already warming up with her blade on the other side of the arena.

“Tsk, to think they’re so spoiled the wager Aerial stones like this.” The voice came from one of the Li Bianq nobles. He didn’t care to see their face. “Is it true he owns a Kurian?”

Owns a Kurian. Arnalt almost burst out laughing. What a silly thought.

At best he’d just found himself stuck to one. 

Rare were the days when Marius helped with the kitchen staff that he didn’t finish his tasks quickly to quietly sneak off and watch Arnalt and his guards train. More than once he’d found him mimicking their movements with a mop behind the bushes. Arnalt let a “pfft” slip at the memory.

Just as easily, his face became the marble sculpture he was known for. Nobles and villagers alike straightened their postures and whoever had been loitering finally sat down. A silence blanketed the arena.

The sun finally crested over the horizon.

Dawn had arrived.

And as the designated monk began the ritual prayers and rites, Arnalt took his position across from Ithana and raised his sword, taking a deep breath and momentarily closing his eyes to focus. When he blinked them open once more, Ithana’s Falchion sword, alight like a thunderstorm, was already slicing through the wind and inches from his throat.

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I thought about Adventure Time: Distant Lands-”BMO”

Salutations random people of the internet who probably won't read this. I am an Ordinary Shmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons. And today, I'm going to do one-fourth of what I do best by reviewing "BMO": The first hour-long special of Adventure Time: Distant Lands. Seeing how it's been a week since the special premiered, and that most fans saw it by now, I thought I'd share my thoughts on BMO. Keep in mind, if you haven't seen the special yet, you're final warning against spoilers stops here. Because I'll be spoiling the heck out of this special, by listings everything I like, and don't like. Things like characters, plot elements, and little touches that I thought were worth mentioning. Without further ado, let's start this review off by listing-

WHAT I LIKED

The Animation Quality: You know how Steven Universe: The Movie had animation quality that was ten percent better than the original series? That's basically what the animation in “BMO” is like. It's not the smoothest I've ever seen, and probably not the best Adventure Time has ever looked, but it's still pretty good. There's definitely more attention to detail, shading, and lighting to help make “BMO” look more cinematic than the series. There is one issue I have with the animation, though. But I'll get into that with the dislikes. For now, it's safe to say that the animation is still pretty darn good.

BMO (The Character, not the special): What can I say about this little rascal that hasn't been said already? BMO is still his adorable little self, and more so. There are times when his naivety can be kind of annoying, at least to me, but I'm sure BMO fans will love how he's presented in the special. Especially given the fact that this is the most active BMO has been in the entire series. Throughout most of Adventure Time, BMO has primarily been a source for comedy as well as a tool for characters to use. Even in episodes when BMO does save the day, it's either by accident or by him not understanding the situation. In "BMO," the little robot purposefully solves many problems, and fully understands the situation. The special still manages to keep his naivety by having BMO just not completely understanding how serious the problem is. Weirdly the writers found a perfect way to make BMO a more active role while not giving him a different personality. And personally speaking, the writers executed that idea well.

Y-5: This special may be about BMO, but Y-5 is the real star here. Y-5's personality, design, and overall arc as a character was so much fun and downright adorable to see. It was so surprising because I did not expect to like any new character introduced in Distant Lands. I just assumed that any newcomer would divert attention from the main character that the special would focus on. And while Y-5 does do that, I'm ok with it for three reasons. First, BMO is not a good character to work on his own. He actually needs characters that fully know what's going on for the plot to progress. Second, while Y-5 can hijack the story, sometimes, there are still segments that make it clear that "BMO" is about BMO. Third, Y-5 is already an incredible character, so I'm not going to waste time complaining about her inclusion. She plays the perfect straight man to BMO's antics, and it was so endearing to see her grow as a more confident character. So much so, that I actually consider Y-5 as one of my personal favorite characters. Not just in the special, but in the series overall. Also, I’m sure that there’s some symbolism behind her wanting to be called Y-5, but I’m not touching it. Mostly because I have no idea what I’m talking about in that regard.

The Comedy: There's not much to say here. The jokes are all worth a good chuckle but were never funnier than anything in the series as a whole. Except for that hard-cut to the elf looking angry as he drifts off into space. That was pretty hilarious.

The Drift: I love everything about the Drift. From its design to the background characters, and even the backgrounds themselves. Everything about the Drift just screams hard work and dedication from the cast and crew. It's almost as if everyone involved knew this would be the last time they would work on Adventure Time, so they just poured their hearts and souls into it. And given the fact that they worked so hard on the first special, makes me even more excited for the other three.

Martin returns...sort of: Let's be clear: It is understood by everyone that Mr. M is Martin Mertens. He has the same voice actor, the same mannerisms, and even the same body type. However, what I like isn't the fact that Martin returns. What I love is the fact that "BMO" never reveals that it's Martin. I'm sure some fans might be upset about not getting an official reveal, but I personally don't think it matters. Mostly because it doesn't matter to BMO. BMO doesn't know who Martin is, and has very little connection to the scumbag. So making a big reveal that Mr. M is Martin would just be unnecessary. Overall, I'm ok with the fact that the writers had Martin return to be nothing more than a glorified easter egg. Because honestly, it's what he deserved.

Hugo’s backstory: Again, there's nothing much to say here. It's yet another twist reveal about how a character who seems nice turns out to be quite the twat. There are two things worth mention, though. One, Hugo's personality stays the same. Look back at all Disney twist villains who become vastly different characters before and after the big twist. Compared to Hugo, he seems like a twist villain done right. Once you figured out that Mr. M is Martin, it should be pretty clear that Hugo's not a saint to be partnered up with the guy. Plus, when it's revealed Hugo really is, he still keeps up this charming persona that he uses around people...up until he ditches them like a twit. Another thing worth mentioning is the animation used for the flashback. Dedicated fans might remember that it was the same style used for "Water Park Prank," which might be the worst episode of the series. So it's nice to see the art style used for something good rather than something...not as good.

The solution to “save” the Drift: Most people use the special as an allegory for climate change. Which is why I put "save" in air-quotes because the citizens didn't really save anything. Similar to how we all play our part to save our planet. What the citizens do, though, is come up with solutions that might work as long as they have hope. And I. Freaking. LOVE that! The lesson that "BMO" is trying to teach is incredibly important, both to children and especially to adults. It's so easy to assume that the best solution is to abandon once it gets too hard and take the easy way out. Same as how some people believe it's better to just abandon this planet we call home, rather than put in the work to save it. And to those people: Let me ask you a question. Do you really think that you'll shoot off into space with the people planning to colonize another planet? Or do you think that those people are going to be like Hugo, who will only take along close friends and the rich? Personally, I think it's more likely going to be the latter. Which is why I adore the lesson being taught in "BMO." It might be hard to save the planet at this point, but it's still worth doing. And I can hope everyone else will come to agree with that conclusion.

WHAT I DISLIKED

Olive: I feel bad for saying I don't like Olive because the truth is that I'm more indifferent to them. To me, Olive feels less like a character and more like a plot device. This is because Olive has little to no personality, and all they do nothing but be something that furthers the plot. Although, I do like how Olive can stretch, as well as how they are overprotective over BMO. Other than that, there's not much to work off of.

Inconsistency with Character Designs: This was the problem I had with the animation. At times, characters are pretty inconsistent with how they're drawn. Some scenes, Y-5's eyes are large and cute, and other times they're normal-sized. There also times when BMO's height and width can be pretty inconsistent with what scene he's in. Now to be fair, this is nothing new to Adventure Time. It's a problem that the show has had for quite some time, and fans have come to accept it. However, just because you accept a problem doesn't make it any less of a problem. If anything, it makes it worse because the showrunners still refuse to fix it.

KS-2: Is it weird that the best character in "BMO" is the daughter of the worst character? Because to me, I don't understand how someone as amazing as Y-5 came from someone so rotten as KS-2. To be fair, I get what the writers were going for. They wanted to make a mother who was just another adult that "just doesn't understand." I can see that, but the problem is that the writers went too far with the idea. The way that KS-2 just constantly berates Y-5, as well as refusing to listen, comes off as too cruel. And the fact that the father pointed out how KS-2 never said the words "Y-5 was right," does nothing more than add fuel to the fire. But what's tricky is for all I know, this could have been the intention. And if it's true that the writers wanted to make KS-2 so unlikeable, then they more than succeeded. Although, I will give the crew credit for subverting gender norms by making KS-2 buff and the dad scrawny. I just wish that good intention was put into a good character.

The first chase scene in the Jungle Pod: This is mostly a nitpick, but it's still something that bothers me. Because having BMO getting chased away from his radio, to then have him end back where he originally was, felt like padding to me. Because why else would you have BMO go through all of that danger, only to have him end up at square one. Maybe the writers included the scene to build tension, but even if that's true, there could have been a better way to do it. Like while BMO's being chased, he somehow gets closer to his goal, rather than end up in a loop. And if the scene really was just for padding, then pad that time with literally anything else. Like maybe use the time to show KS-2's gentle side, or doing more to tease Hugo's true self. I know it would only be a few minutes, but actually make those minutes count for something. 

It’s a Prequel?: After my initial viewing, my reaction to the ending was, "Oh, BMO found Finn and Jake's descendants." Then when actual smart people pointed out that "BMO" was a prequel, my reaction became "Oh, that makes way more sense." But then I started thinking about the fact that the special was a prequel, and the more I thought about it, the more holes I found. Or, at least, two holes that I found. First off, why does BMO have a heroic nature in this special? At first, I thought that maybe the years living with Finn and Jake taught BMO how to be a hero, but BMO hasn't met Finn yet. So I guess BMO felt like a heroic personality the entire time? Even though he never acted like this before in the series, unless he thought he was playing a game? Another thing I noticed is Martin's line about kids calling out their deadbeat parents. Why would he say that? Martin hasn't met Finn yet, either. Therefore Martin doesn't have the experience of being called a deadbeat parent. So does this mean that Martin has other children in the universe who calls him out on his crap? Or is it most likely that the writers wanted to give another clue that Mr. M was Martin, but briefly forgot the series timeline? I think it's most likely the latter, even though the former sounds way more interesting. And before people want to kill me because they actually love the story being a prequel, I want to point out, this is another nitpick. The fact that "BMO" is a prequel doesn't bother me too much, but I still can't help but feel confused when thinking about it.

As a whole, I give “BMO” an A-. BMO is as adorable as ever, Y-5 is an astounding character, I love the moral that the special is trying to teach, and the entire thing just screams effort. Is it perfect? No. Does it have problems? Yes, but not anything that makes me think the special was unwatchable. I enjoyed it, and something tells me that if you're an Adventure Time fan, you enjoy it too. "BMO" was a great introduction to Distant Lands, and here's hoping the other specials will be even better.

(And here’s also hoping that “Obsidian” will deliver that sweet, sweet Bubbline goodness that fans have been demanding for years.)