#i like how the only times i have mildly coherent things t say about this game its when it involves these two and their relationship im noma

[the-acid-pear]

You know it's very damn curious how Jevil calls Seam "the old shopkeeper" when you first talk to him, because Jevil was imprisioned when Seam was still the court magician, not some shopkeeper, and while possible i find it weird for Seam to be able to run a shop while also fulfilling whatever royal duty. To add to this, it doesn't seem like he has knowledge outside of what he can assume and already knows. Like, sure, he warns you about Queen, but he definitely knew her, so it's only logical that she's the one coming after the king. Same thing with the knight, the roaring might be something he knows about.

Now, why am i saying all this? Well, because the fact that Jevil knows Seam is a shopkeeper means that Seam told him, which also means Seam at least once in the past visited him to chat. Which, makes me feel soft inside-

[shootingstars-or-airplanes]

Book Review: The Lost Story

Ok if I'm being honest I decided I wanted to start writing book reviews on tumblr specifically because I want to scream about this book. I literally read it in two days (which is impressive for me! I'm a really slow reader.) and I am dying for a sequel but it was just published this year so I guess I'll have to wait on that. In the meantime, enjoy my mildly coherent ramblings on The Lost Story by Meg Shaffer

Yeah ok same format as the last one. There are spoilers under the cut. But IDK if I can make a pros and cons list for this one so I'm just gonna ramble for a bit. TL;DR and star rating are right before the cut.

Oh my god where do I even start? This book was so fucking good. The characters were all incredible and I loved the way they interacted with one another. The dynamic between Jeremy and Rafe was perfect! And Emilie and Skya honestly just added to that in their own ways any time they were in the scene, completely elevating the interaction.

I loved the depictions of archery and sword fighting. I feel like a lot of times action scenes can bog down a narrative, but I feel like they were handled really well here. There was enough going on that I felt like I could actually see the action play out which isn't always the case with stuff like this.

I adored the storyteller and the adherence to fairy tale conventions while subverting them where necessary for the story. I felt like the interrupting voice of the narrator every so often was really unique and well done. It moved the story along and even broke up some tense scenes with a little levity which I can appreciate.

I feel like the magic system and story mechanics made a lot of sense and made later reveals not only believable, but natural. I feel like I started operating on those assumptions before they even came up, but not in a bad way. In a way that felt natural for the story. If that makes sense...

At first, I thought I might have issues with the simplicity of the plot and narrative, but taking the fairy tale inspiration into account, I honestly think it works really well. I came to find it endearing by the end.

TL;DR - This book is so good please go read it! The characters, action sequences, storytelling, magic system, and narrative are all incredible and create a beautiful modern fairy tale for adults. I am literally obsessed and I need a sequel immediately!

Rating: ⭐5/5*

*Note: A lot of things go into my rating, including my own personal enjoyment of the book. If it's a story I literally cannot put down, it's likely getting a 5/5 from me. I don't believe in the myth of perfection. A 5/5 does not mean the book was without flaws. It simply means that I felt that it was conventionally sound and brought me the most enjoyment possible. Similarly, getting below a 5 doesn't make a book bad. If it's mechanically bad from a craft standpoint, I will just say that.

SPOILER WARNING

Alright let me start by saying I LOVE GAY PEOPLE T-T

I think Jeremy and Rafe not only make a super cute couple but I felt like it made sense. From the beginning, I could tell that's how Jeremy felt towards him and the chemistry was there. At one point Emilie asked him "So when did you first fall for him?" with zero prompting and I was like bestie is so me my head was in the same place.

I felt like from really early on, I could tell that Skya/Shannon wrote this world into existence. It made sense. The naming conventions of the world itself and all the places in it, the mechanics of how the reality and magic worked, it all just made sense. I'd love to see if other worlds like this could be brought into existence in this world. I'm sure that isn't something that will be explored in a sequel, but I'd be ecstatic if it was!

And that wasn't the only thing. A lot of things in this story just made sense. And some might say that makes it too predictable, but I just think it means it fits form really well. There is a formula to fairy tales. Even if you've never heard one before, often times you can guess what's going to happen before it does because that's just the kind of thing that happens in fairy tales. Like Rafe's dad being the "king" of the bright boys. That made sense and was very fairy tale-esque. I saw it coming from a mile away but I feel like in the case of this particular story, that added to the experience rather than subtracting from it.

I was upset with the ending. Not narratively. Narratively, it was great! It's the ending I would have written. But I was so attached to these characters and I was pissed that they got separated.

But I love how they set up for a sequel and I need it immediately. I will cry every day without it. So like Meg Shaffer if you're reading this, no pressure but my life is in your hands (/j).

[welcometowcwmondaynitro]

WCW Monday Nitro 09/09/1996

Shit be exploding, so you know what time it is.

Yes sir.

Once again we are not given a location this week, which generally means the town is too small-time for the big shots at WCW to even consider giving a shout out to. My research tells me this broadcast comes from the Columbus Civic Centre in Columbus, Georgia.  

As always we are introduced to our first hour announce team, Schiavone and Zbyszko.

Tony is looking quite smart this evening. Larry as expected has a horrific multcoloured abomination on underneath his jacket. It’s basically his gimmick a this point so whatever. 

They talk about how the balance of power has shifted to the nWo and Larry says Giant is “the biggest traitor since Benedict Arnold”, nice ancient reference there, Larry. We get a recap of last week’s awesome show-ending brawl. 

Once they’re done wrapping this up, Goldberg’s music plays. What? I check my file - yes, definitely 9th September 1996. Has Goldberg time travelled back to 1996 and changed history by debuting early?

Well, either that is one hell of a disguise or no, actually Goldberg’s theme music was first used by this Japanese guy called Pat Tanaka. It’s really weird seeing this random fella walk out to Goldberg’s music. The crowd boo mildly - I guess just because he’s Japanese? I don’t remember there being any storyline reason to boo him, anyway. 

Pat’s opponent is... this.

Looks like a mascot from a early/mid-90s video game brought to life. If this is Super Calo then I am curious as to what regular Calo is like. I am unsure as to what makes this version ‘Super’, but maybe we’ll find out in the upcoming match. Mike Tenay joins the announce crew because it is Calo’s debut and Tenay is the only one likely to know anything about him.

Pat Tanaka vs Super Calo

I was kind of hoping Tanaka would start the match with a spear and then jackhammer Calo into oblivion, but no such luck. 

As one would anticipate from a man dressed like a stereotypical kung-fu master in an 80s movie, Tanaka starts the match off with some kicks.

Calo jumps around pointlessly and then gets kicked in the face. Bants.

Tenay tells us Calo’s name and look comes from the “top rap group” in Mexico. He does not name this group. Confusingly wikipedia claims Calo is named after a Mexican rock group with the same name, but his image is meant to convey a rapper. So, just... what? Also what rapper has ever looked like Super Calo? In Mexico is that how rappers dress? 

Well anyway this odd fellow somersaults over the ropes onto Tanaka outside of the ring. 

The screen then cuts to this.

 Then we’re back to the match. OK then. 

Tanaka hits Calo with a powerbomb, which leads to Tony talking about him being “so schooled in the martial arts”. Yes, because we all know that classic martial arts move the powerbomb. Often followed by a leg drop and a scorpion deathlock. 

The ending to this match is beyond ridiculous. 

First, Tanaka puts Calo onto the top turnbuckle.

Neither man seems to know what is meant to happen next, so they awkwardly wrap their arms around each other.

Tanaka then lifts Calo up like he’s going for an inverse piledriver and falls backwards.

Apparently he knocks himself out, gets pinned, and loses.

What an idiot.

Super Calo defeats Pat Tanaka via Pinfall.

Nothing too super about our friend Calo in this one I’m afraid. His victory came largely because Tanaka is a super dunce.

We got some lads in the front row who are big fans of the classic moustache.

They seem quite pleased that Calo emerged victorious.

Just under seven minutes in and we throw back to Mean Gene in the locker room with Rick Steiner. This should be good.

Shirts hanging out of the lockers behind them, as you do. 

Gene asks Rick Steiner about Nick Patrick’s questionable officiating - referring to the incident last week where Luger was disqualified in seconds for basically nothing. Rick says that he had Luger, and Gene saw it. Total bullshit as the match had barely started, and Gene does point that out. 

Luger walks into the frame as we see last week’s replay. Rick is continually going on about how he was going to win, sounding like a mentally challenged three year old. On the other hand this is a guy who also genuinely thinks he’s a dog, so... I should probably be impressed that he is able to form words and put them into a somewhat coherent structure.

Gene says that Steiner is “a little confused” in the understatement of the century, 

Luger tells Rick that he’s “a great tag team wrestler” but he feels like he has the edge in a singles environment. Rick continues to fail to understand basic english and keeps repeating “I can beat you, ask Sting” and then starts calling for Sting.

Gene then ushers Rick away like an unruly child as Luger walks off as well. Gene says that Luger was alluding that Rick “doesn’t have it upstairs”, pointing to his head. Wow, what a dick. Luger didn’t say anything like that. All he implied was that he was a better singles wrestler than Rick. Not sure where Gene has gotten his interpretation from, but my guess is he just wants to stir the pot as usual.

Next it’s nWo announcement time.

Just the usual t-shirt ad with Nash saying “all proceeds go towards the Ric Flair retirement fund”. Joke’s on him, that fund must have accrued some serious cash before it was finally paid out.

We’re back and...

Somebody buy these poor kids some real nWo t-shirts. 

Where did these people come from? Did they decide to stop by Nitro after a corporate dinner or something? 

Are these pilots in the audience as well? Wtf? Why are all these people coming to the show dressed in their work clothes? Is this a common thing in the States?

Oh, hey, guess what - Glacier debuted. I would say “remember all that hype” but if you’ve been reading this sad collection of nostalgic drivel then you will indeed remember the many Glacier adverts that have been on every Nitro broadcast since May or so. We’re now in September and Glacier finally had his first match... on WCW Pro.

Seriously.

WCW Pro is like... Sunday Night Heat or Velocity in WWE terms. It’s below WCW Saturday Night for fuck’s sake.  Tony calls it “one of the most eagerly anticipated debuts ever” - which is why he made his first appearance on WCW FUCKING PRO. Oh WCW, what are you like?

Larry says Glacier will be “a force to be reckoned with”, which, spoiler alert. turns out to be the opposite.

  Oh good, these two walking charisma vacuums.

And these two lumbering idiots. WCW, the best wrestling on the planet. How could WWF in 1996 find no way to entice people away from Pat Tanaka vs Super Calo and The AFC vs the Nasty Boys? Seriously. It isn’t that difficult. 

The AFC do their usual schtick of singing the Canadian national anthem badly and the crowd get angry because ‘Murica fuck yeah and whatever. The Nasty Boys say “fuck this” and attack the AFC after about 10 seconds of this bullshit, getting the match started.

The Amazing French Canadians Vs The Nasty Boys

You don’t care about this match. I don’t care about this match. Let’s just skip to the end.

Knobbs whacks the eyepatch guy with the flag the AFC brought out. Saggs pins for the win. 

The Nasty Boys defeat The Amazing French Canadians via Pinfall.

Mean Gene comes scurrying out to interview the Nastys, for some reason.

Saggs says everybody has been pointing the finger at the Nasty Boys, accusing them of being with the nWo (can’t imagine anybody really cares but OK, sure). Saggs says the Nasty’s are only worried about the tag titles which are in WCW, ergo they aren’t interested in joining the nWo. Does he not realise that faction affiliation is irrelevent as far as challenging for belts is concerned? I mean, Hogan is literally WCW Heavyweight champion at this point in time. 

Knobbs says that the Nasty’s don’t care about the nWo, they’re in WCW and they’re coming for Harlem Heat to take the tag team titles. Short and to the point, which is fine by me, even if the Nasty’s appear to be under the mistaken impression- that joining the nWo would invalidate them from challenging for the tag titles. 

We’re back from a commercial break to find Scott Norton and Sgt Craig Pittman in the ring.

Sgt Craig Pittman Vs Scott Norton

The commentators bill this as a “hold versus hold” match and I’m not sure what this means, as I was under the impression every match is hold versus hold. But whatever. 

After some back and forth Pittman decides that it’s time to ram his head into Norton’s sternum. 

It looks pretty painful and not especially effective, but Pittman enjoys it so much he does it again. 

They head to the outside of the ring. Norton gets whipped against the guardrail, the entirety of which moves upon impact, but then Norton regains control by slamming Pittman’s shoulder into the ring post. 

Norton locks in the armbar but the Sarge will not give up. Long gets onto the ring apron to beg Pittman to give in, but he won’t. WCW, for reasons beyond my understanding, is very careful about protecting Sgt. Craig Pittman. He never gets pushed, as far as I remember, but this man WILL NOT QUIT.

Then... 

Ice Train wanders out wearing this abomination. Seriously - what the fuck? It’s like a demin vest with a backpack built in. It’s something you would expect to see an eight-year old girl in the mid-90s wearing over the top of a t-shirt or something. What clothing brand figured that this design was suitable for huge, beefy dudes? I don’t know, but they clearly have a customer in Ice Train.

Train throws in the towel for Pittman.  

Scott Norton defeats Sgt. Craig Pittman via Forfeit. 

He enters the ring and stares down at Norton, who is looking at Train’s vest top and moobs like “dafuq?”

The two former amigos have a staredown which doesn’t lead anywhere. 

Pepboys Power Pin of the Week is a submission. Go figure.

We head to the locker room where Gene-o is with Ric Flair, Arn Anderson and Lex Luger.

Three of these men are dressed appropriately. The other is Lex Luger.

Apparently Sting is supposed to be a part of this interview as well but is nowhere to be found. Luger assures Flair & Arn that Sting is in the building, but the Horsemen are having none of it and are concerned that Sting doesn’t have his head in the game. Flair starts going crazy and practically flings himself into an alternate dimension with his erratic movements.

Like a jet propeller is being put directly in front of his face.

Anyway eventually these two sad sacks come lumbering in...

Mongo looks like he’s about to explode, whilst Benoit as usual appears barely awake. Mongo yells about not being able to count on Luger and Sting. Luger reiterates that Sting is in the building somewhere, he’s just not around for the interview. The Horsemen do seem overly paranoid here - how hard would it be to track Sting down and talk to him if they are this pissed off? 

Arn says he’s called ahead to Winston, Salem (where Fall Brawl/War Games is being held) to pre-book himself a hospital room as he assumes he’s going to need one. Seems like a somewhat pessimistic thing to do, but is it even possible to pre-book hospital room? Arn is talking like he’s booked a hotel room for the night. Strange lad. He also suggests Hogan uses battery acid to burn out his eyes which... I mean, don’t give the guy ideas, Arn.  

Interview ends with everybody talking over each other and Flair wooing a lot - so, the same as most Horsemen interviews.

People in the crowd are holding these signs which say “nWo - you haven’t seen bad... but it’s coming!” - indeed, Hogan Vs Piper is coming.

We get a recap of this thrilling DDP/Eddie/Chavo storyline which nobody cares about, but why this is recapped is beyond me as the next match has nothing to do with any of those three. 

Instead, out comes “the desparado” himself, Joe Gomez.

Somebody throws a wad of paper at him as he enters. Obviously not a fan.

His opponent is Juventud Guerrera,  who Tony repeatedly refers to as Juventud Guerrero. 

As Juvi enters he runs past these ladies, who appear both baffled and unimpressed with him.

Cold.

Joe Gomez Vs Juventud Guerrera

The match starts off okay, but descends into disaster fairly quickly as Juvi starts trying various lucha things which poor Joe is clearly not comfortable with. First Juvi stands on the apron, jumps onto the ropes as Gomez slowly walks towards him and does this...

It’s clear from this angle alone that there is no way in hell Juvi is going to reach Gomez. In fairness to WCW they switch camera angle just in time to make it look slightly less terrible, although I imagine it was more down to luck than skill. Nonetheless Gomez at least tries to sell the move, falling backwards theatrically.

Weeee! Points for effort if not execution. 

This happens next, and thanks to Uproxx “Best and Worst of WCW Monday Nitro” series (check it out, it’s great) I have a GIF to put into pictures what I would struggle to put into words.

Speaks for itself.

After this Juvi seems to want to go for a hurricanrana from the top turnbuckle but I‘m not sure if they botch this as well or it was the plan, but Juvi ends up backflipping away from the turnbuckle and then catching Gomez with a weak looking dropkick as he jumps towards Juvi.

Juvi just about manages to hit the finishing move...

But even that looks a little bit dodgy. At least Joe just had to lay there for this one. Ref counts to three and mercifully this one is over. Not sure if Gomez or Juvi are to blame for this shitshow, but either way I advise never putting them together again.

Juventud Guerrera defeats Joe Gomez via Pinfall.

For some reason Mean Gene is on the ramp to interview Nick Patrick. Oh good, more of this storyline.

Before they start the interview though, as Juventud walks past Gene and Patrick, Gene says “very good match there on the part of Juventud Guerrera”, then gives Juvi a disdainful look and mutters “guy just kind of... wanders around here”. LOL. Why is Gene throwing shade at poor Juvi? “Guy just wanders around here”, like he’s a lost child or something. I guess Gene is still salty about the interview with Juvi that went wrong a couple of weeks ago, but come on, that was hardly Juvi’s fault. Obvious Gene is still holding a grudge though. 

I don’t think anybody really wants to hear from these two ballbags but here we are anyway. 

Gene is accusing Patrick of making too many controversial calls for it to just be coincidence, whilst Patrick is accusing Gene of being a shit-stirring cock cheese who needs to get a life. Neither are lying but nobody really cares either. What is funny is that Okerlund is very haughty and dismissive of Patrick - until Patrick threatens to take Gene to court - at which point Gene stutters “well I-I hope that doesn’t happen” before saying “thank you very much Nick Patrick, sir, thank you” to Patrick as he walks off. Pathetic. 

Meanwhile Hogan, Hall, Nash and the Giant are outside in the pouring rain putting those nWo flyers with the “you haven’t seen bad... but it’s coming” slogan on random cars. This seems like a total waste of time as by the time the car owners get back to their vehicles the rain would probably have destroyed those flyers anyway.  Do these guys really have nothing better to do? Tony tells us the nWo are “literally” in the parking lot - as opposed to what, being there in spirit?

Ted DiBiase is the smartest of the lot as he 1) has an umbrella and 2) isn’t wasting his time putting up useless flyers in the pouring rain. He’s talking to somebody in the car, and the announcers are shitting themselves as to who it might be, as they tend to do. For all they know DiBiase might just be talking to the driver. 

“HERE’S A STORY OF TWO BROTHERS, RICK AND SCOTT!”

Just Rick tonight. He comes out doing that sad half-bark he does whenever something is troubling him. 

His opponent, of course, is Flexy Lexy.

Rick Steiner Vs Lex Luger

These two are not exactly known as ‘ring generals’ so I am not expecting a classic here. Let’s see, though. Perhaps we will all be pleasantly surprised. 

After various arm drags, headlocks, shoulder blocks, and so on, this happens.

Uh...

Yeah. Rick is basically molesting Luger in the ring and keeps this up for a disturbing amount of time. I guess it’s meant to show his amateur wrestling background but it basically just looks like sexual assault. Rick’s hands are going to places they really should not. 

Hour two begins with the usual fireworks. Bischoff, Heenan and Tenay come in on commentary for the rest of the show. 

Rick hits Luger with a nice powerslam, and Randy Anderson cannot bear to watch the impact. The crowd bark their approval which, personally, I don’t think is helpful. Rick’s clinical lycanthropy is only going to get worse if people bark at him when he does something good. Or bark at him in general, really.

More cuddling. Back away, Rick. Even Randy Anderson is telling him to cut it out at this point.

Luger takes control with a powerslam and signals for the rack. However, before he can attempt his finishing move...

This dicksplash comes running out waving his arms around. Looks like he’s doing the sieg heil there but fairly sure it’s just the timing of the screenshot.

Anyhow, Patrick tells Luger to follow him out the back, yelling something about the nWo beating up Sting.

Considering Patrick’s recent behaviour, Lex, it might not be wise to...

OK. Never mind. Of course Luger goes running after Patrick, abandoning the match entirely and getting himself counted out. 

Everyone looking towards the entrance way like “where’s he going?” 

Rick Steiner defeats Lex Luger via Countout.

We get a shot of DiBiase talking to the mystery man in the limo. Sting’s voice is heard but it is blatantly piped in from some other promo. He says he’s “tired of the DTA stuff, don’t trust anybody”, so I guess he’s not a fan of Stone Cold Steve Austin. DiBiase pretends to talk to the pre-taped Sting voice until Lex shows up.

A guy who is clearly not Sting gets out of the limo and starts beating up Luger whilst Bischoff screams “NO! NO!”

I have the advantage of hindsight and my monitor is probably bigger than most people’s TVs back in 1996... but still, it’s really obviously not Sting. Were people genuinely fooled by this? 

The nWo along with “Sting” beat Luger down and leave him laying in a broken heap in the rain...

It has not been a good night for Luger. First he got yelled at by the Horsemen, then he spent ten minutes getting inappropriately touched by Rick Steiner during their match, then he gets smacked around by the nWo and left on the ground in the pouring rain. Bad times for sure. Although if you’re stupid enough to follow Nick Patrick anywhere... 

Luger does manage to get back up but ends up just kind of wandering around in the rain looking confused whilst the nWo flee, leaving the limos parked outside the building.

These bois are not impressed by what they have just seen. Tenay looks like a dad who is about to grab his belt and put a whippin’ on somebody. Bischoff is indignant. Heenan wears the expression of a man who was just forced to sit through every Raw from 2015. Pure torture. 

Bischoff says he has an update which is literally “we don’t know where [the nWo] are. I’m sorry. I don’t know”. Well thanks for that. Very helpful. 

We get a long recap of last week’s angle including more footage of the amazing all-out brawl that ended the show. Then we get another nWo advert for their t-shirt. 

A bunch of random jobbers are outside with Luger and Rick Steiner milling around the limo yelling out “DIBIASE!” - as if he’ll just pop up and be like “sup bois?” - pointless endeavour. Rick Steiner is the only one smart enough to bring an umbrella outside. Let that one sink in. Luger chucks a bunch of stuff out of one of the limos onto the floor which seems unnecessary. 

Out comes pre-Flock Billy Kidman. The commentators could not care less, just droning on about Sting’s supposed “defection”. 

The other combatant in this contest is Cruiserweight champion Rey Mysterio Jr.

Rey Mysterio Jr Vs Billy Kidman

The announcers spend the entire match in ‘sad voice’, like their dogs have all collectively died. It’s really annoying.

The match spills to the outside very quickly. Rey gets the advantage and rolls Kidman back in. He attempts to jump off the ropes from the apron, but Kidman knows what’s coming and meets Rey with a dropkick to the chest.

Kidman slams Rey in the centre of the ring, runs over to the turnbuckle and leaps off.

Just a two count though. Rey wins the match soon after this by flipping off the ropes onto Kidman.

It looks weak but whatever. This wasn’t anything special.

Rey Mysterio defeats Billy Kidman via Pinfall.

We come back from a commercial and the Dungeon’s of Doom’s “music” is playing, and I put that in inverted commas because it isn’t really music, just a pseudo-creepy OTT villainous laugh accompanied by some kind of chant. Whatever. Normally any sign of the Dungeon is enough to make me want to hang my head in despair, however!

If Meng is involved, it might be somewhat entertaining. Just to note those aren’t two random arms sprouting out of Meng’s shoulders – the Barbarian is behind him.

The announcers are still going on about how tragic Sting’s supposed betrayal is – and Bischoff apologises for “not giving Rey Mysterio the attention he deserves in his match”. I mean, kind of tough to take that apology seriously considering how often this has happened and will continue to happen until Nitro goes out of existence. It is the only time I can recall any commentator in WCW actually apologising for the routine ignoring of the cruiserweights in favour of talking about/complaining about the nWo, though.

These two are the opponents. Yeah, Public Enemy, they definitely deserve that pyro. Sure. Look at them waving their hands in the air like they just don’t care.

By the way, the commentators are still going on about Sting. I wonder if we’ll get another apology for ignoring this match as well? Not that I’d necessarily blame them here.

Some diehard wrestling fans here. I think we saw them previously – seemingly someone in production has taken a liking to these ladies. They look like they got lost on their way to a PTA meeting, but fuck it, might as well enjoy themselves now. Watch out for the dude behind you though, ladies. That smile worries me a little.

The Faces of Fear Vs Public Enemy

We go to a commercial break, and as soon as we come back Bischoff says “I hate to keep repeating this, but apparently Sting has joined forces with the nWo”. Bullshit, if you hated it that much you’d have shut up about it by now. I mean, jeez, we get it.

This contest is just a brawl, as you’d expect. Not exactly a match for the ages, but all of a sudden, randomly…

This dude on the left appears and begins running/skipping around the ring.

The fuck? It’s like Rockstar Spud’s demented uncle or something. 

He briefly chases Jimmy Hart, then just… vanishes? Oh, and by the way, the commentators make no mention of this. They do not acknowledge this at all. Why? Because they’re talking about everything except the match itself. Literally, I’m not kidding, it’s like this match is not happening. It’s like listening to a radio show or a podcast spliced together with unrelated WCW footage.

Wait, what? What’s happening now? The match is ongoing and they just cut to the back. Judging from the faces of these lads you’d think someone died. It’s a sombre scene to say the least – but seriously, why even have the match in the ring? What’s the point? The commentators are acting like it isn’t happening and we cut to an interview as the match is happening. Bischoff doesn’t even note that we’ve cut away from a match in progress, he just says “take it away Gene”, like this is totally normal. Whatever, I guess. It’s not like I’m desperate to see the Faces of Fear versus Public Enemy, but what a bizarre way to structure… everything.

Gene asks Arn to explain what happened in the parking lot earlier. Seemed quite self-explanatory to me and the commentators have not stopped talking about it since it happened, so the viewers really don’t need any extra information.  

Arn says he doesn’t give a shit about Luger losing a friend, or that he’s lost a team mate, he’s just shocked. He brings up Sting’s loyalty to WCW.

They actually move to a split-screen here – I guess someone in the production truck remembered there is actually a match going on. It wouldn’t be fair to deprive the dozens of Faces of Fear/Public Enemy fans the chance to see their favourite grapplers go at it.

Anyway, Arn says he has a sick feeling in his stomach, he’s shocked, and he’s out of words. He’s said quite a few already, though, so not really.

Flair stands there with his arms folded, eyeing the audience like a disappointed father.

Luger says he doesn’t have any answers, and that his “best friend in the whole world” stabbed him in the back. He then says he knows where Sting lives and where he works out, and he’s going to go and find him “right now”. Sounds like Lex is planning to murk Sting. However, he should keep in mind this is a guy who only last week tried to murder somebody by chucking a rock through the window of a limo, then stole a police car. Come to think of it, I’m not sure why Sting isn’t in jail. Regardless, I wouldn’t be chasing after him without a good plan.

Flair screams that he’s “sick of it” and just generally yells about how they’re going to beat up the nWo at War Games (including Sting). Arn says “it’s a fight to the death – yours, not ours”. I suppose that was worth emphasising? Also Arn has a tendency to see these matches as ending in death, even though it never comes close to that.

We return to the Faces of Fear/Public Enemy match. By “we” I mean the audience – the commentators are still talking about War Games. I genuinely don’t think they have said anything about the match – oh, wait a minute, Bischoff does mention the match, finally. Although he says the teams are “literally fighting for their lives” which is not exactly accurate. What is up with these people thinking matches are going to end so tragically?

Anyway, the brawling continues for a while and eventually, somehow, Rocco Rock ends up lying on a table. Barbarian heads for the top turnbuckle.

Guys, I don’t foresee this ending well. Seriously, what is the absolute best result of this? Rocco (who can clearly see Barbarian on the turnbuckle) for some reason lays there and lets Barbarian jump on him. It’ll be brutal for both. Or, Rocco moves and Barbarian crashes through the table. Either way Barbarian doesn’t win in this scenario.

Uh oh. Jimmy Hart is absolutely useless at holding Rocco down, kicked away like an insect as Rocco sits up.

That is a fucking sick bump. It’s funny because Barbarian barely takes any serious bumps at all, on Nitro at least, then he decides to say fuck it and leaps to the concrete through a table because YOLO I guess?

Well anyway he dead. Rocco brings a second table into the ring.

Looks pretty old. Nick Patrick wags his finger in disapproval, but incredibly that isn’t enough to persuade Public Enemy to stop. They lay Meng on the table, then Rocco goes to the top turnbuckle for a moonsault…

He almost misses the table entirely, only catching Meng with his legs. The table is weak enough that it breaks despite the soft contact.

You’d think that would be the spot that ends the match, but no. Meng gets up like nothing happened and starts brawling with Rocco again. Barbarian is also somehow revived and back in the ring fighting with Grunge. This is weird because the outside table spot with Barbarian getting wiped out, and then Meng getting put through the table by Rocco’s moonsault, felt like the end sequence of the match. Now it’s like we’re back at the start again. Keep in mind the match has been going for about 10 minutes now. That’s at least 7 minutes longer than is ideal for these teams, really.

Whilst Rocco and Barbarian are hugging it out in the corner, Meng puts the Tongan Death Grip on Grunge and now this one is over.

No explanation as to what the fuck was going on with that random ginger guy running around the ring earlier by the way. Oh well. During the replay Heenan accidentally calls Meng “Haku” and then goes silent immediately. Oops.

The Faces of Fear defeat Public Enemy via Pinfall.

Suddenly Okerlund appears at ringside, accompanied by the Dungeon of Doom.

Maxx, Jimmy Hart, Big Bubba, Gene, Kevin Sullivan, Hugh Morrus and Konnan. To quote Rufus from Final Fantasy 7 – “what a crew”.

Sullivan is no longer painting his face with those stupid markings, but for some reason is now wearing a white headband. Does he think he’s the Karate Kid now?

He also starts making this derp face - and this isn’t just a screen grab catching an awkward expression momentarily, he’s making this face on purpose.

For some reason we go to Jimmy Hart first, who tells the Giant “it’s the beginning of the end for you, you just don’t know it yet”. I’m sure he’s quaking in his boots.  

Big Bubba then rants about Glacier, talking about him saying he’s coming for “6 or 7 months” and asking if he’s not debuting because he’s afraid. Slight exaggeration on the 6 or 7 months from Bubba, but to be fair it does feel like those vignettes have been running for at least that long. Bubba actually doesn’t seem to be aware that Glacier debuted on WCW Pro, but it’s WCW Pro, so... understandable. Bubba calls the Dungeon of Doom “the masters of intimidation”…

What he means is that Meng is the master of intimidation. The others aren’t exactly adding much to the equation. Maxx is standing off to the side looking distinctly unimpressed by the entire thing.

With that said, bored does seem to be his default expression regardless of what is happening. I imagine he’d have the same expression even if Bubba was in the process of sprouting three heads whilst doing a kossack dance.

After calling Gene “homes”, Konnan calls Sullivan a “hardened veterano”. He then says Sullivan has seen and led gang wars from coast to coast.

Yes, Kevin Sullivan wearing that silly white headband is exactly what I think of when I think of leaders of gang wars. Sullivan’s ‘wut?’ expression here says it all. I’m not sure you can call the Dungeon of Doom/Alliance to End Hulkamania Versus Hogan and Macho Man a “gang war”. I’m not sure two people can even constitute a gang. Also Sullivan may be worried Konnan is unintentionally (?) implicating him in genuine gang wars… which probably isn’t in the Taskmaster’s best interests.

Konnan challenges the nWo to come out and confront the Dungeon, who he calls “the toughest set”. Yeah, sure. The challenge is not accepted, because the nWo are for sure terrified of a “gang” featuring the likes of Maxx, Kevin Sullivan, Big Bubba and Hugh Morrus.

Sullivan says that Savage thinks he’ll owe the Dungeon “a debt” for carrying him out from the ring last week. I doubt it in all honesty – maybe if they’d actually done something to help him before he’d been beaten down and spraypainted. Carrying him out after the fact didn’t really help much.

Anyhow, Sullivan says Savage can repay this fictional debt by first beating John Tenta, because why not I guess, and then by getting rid of the Giant. That doesn’t really seem like a balanced deal. We carry you backstage after you’ve been beaten up, you make it even by beating John Tenta and the Giant. Hmmm.

Time for some nWo propaganda.

Hogan tells us that they “aren’t here for a stinkin’ reason” – directly contradicting Nash and Hall, who had previously made it clear they’d come in specifically to take over WCW. He then randomly says “we’ve got our boss with us” and points to Ted DiBiase, who’s sitting in a chair behind them.

Homely. DiBiase looks like he’s being held prisoner, but whatever. Hogan says DiBiase makes Ted Turner look like a “pauper”. Honestly I could try to recap this whole thing but it’s really just a bunch of random sound bytes ripping on WCW for the most part. They talk about wanting “their own tag team tournament” for some reason. They also want a segment (on Nitro, presumably) where they can “highlight” their talent. What they actually mean is a segment highlighting Hogan, as we’ll discover going forward. Scott Hall says “nWo 4 life” with the hand sign (might be the first instance of this?) and they all end the segment laughing like it was an amazing joke.

I was a satellite dish owner back then – or rather, my parents were - but no WCW PPVs in the UK, sadly. We only got a butchered hour-long version of Nitro on TNT UK during 1996 & 1997. I didn’t find out that I’d been watching an edited version of the show until many years later. At least now I can sit back and relive the glory of the Faces of Fear Vs Public…. eh, maybe TNT UK were doing us a favour after all.

Back with your bois at the announce desk. Tenay once again has that “stern dad” look, whilst Heenan seems to be whimsically remembering something from years gone by. Take a guess as to what Bischoff is talking about?

A)     The upcoming main event

B)     Meltzer being wrong about everything

C)     Blue Chew

D)     Sting’s betrayal

If you’ve been following along thus far, you’ll know the answer. The lad does genuinely hate big Dave though, and loves that Blue Chew. Come to think of it, what is the main event? I can’t even remember. Sting’s supposed betrayal has been hammered into my brain so many fucking times at this point I can barely conceive of any other event occurring at any wrestling show.

Chris Jericho’s music plays, but…

It’s John Tenta? Still got that stupid haircut by the way. Seriously, fish man, you’ve made your point. Get that shaved.

But yeah, I’m confused here. I thought Jericho was coming out. But hold on, that’s Jericho’s second theme, “One Crazed Anarchist”, aka the Pearl Jam ripoff, not the one he’s using at this point in WCW, which I believe is the Journey ripoff. So John Tenta is in fact the OG “One Crazed Anarchist”. For the record, the theme suits Jericho far more than it suits the former Shark.

As he comes out Tenta says “Savage, you’re not putting me down”. You think so, John?

What exactly has that guy in the hat been up to? That is not the look of an innocent person.

Ohhh yeahhh, it’s the Macho Man. The commentators are pretending that the result of the match is in any doubt, which I suppose they have to do.

John “anti-fish” Tenta Vs “Macho Man” Randy Savage

Savage storms to the ring, but that turns out to be a bad idea as Tenta stomps on the Macho Man’s back as he slides in and then clobbers him with a forearm to the back.

Bad strategy, Macho. Tenta’s moobs though… whoa.

That’s an interesting choice of attire for a wrestling event, madam.

Tenta works over Savage in the corner for a bit. Savage then begins to make a comeback, before for some reason attempting to slam Tenta…

Goes about as well as you’d expect. Macho really needs to work on his strategy.

Bischoff actually specifically says here that Heenan accidentally referred to Meng as “Haku” earlier and wants to make it clear Meng now works for WCW and not the WWF. I guess they were really taking this kind of thing seriously due to the lawsuits flying around at this point in history. Funny though, as you hear these kinds of slip-ups all the time. I mean, if TNA or AEW were sued for every time a commentator accidentally used a competitor’s ex-WWE name there would need to be a legal department created specifically just to deal with the fucking volume. At least Heenan didn’t call it “WWF Nitro”.

Tenta hits Macho with a decent looking drop kick – quite impressive considering his weight. Outside of the ring Savage hits Tenta with a steel chair…

He isn’t disqualified because…? He whacks Tenta twice more with a chair. This is not a no-DQ match, but it is WCW, so fuck the rules unless we need them for storyline purposes, right?

Flying elbow drop!

Macho goes up for a second, but then Teddy Long comes to ringside yelling “Macho!” – what could the so-called “godfather” want with Savage? Also where’s my man Ice Train at? Come to think of it, I just remembered what he was wearing earlier… best for him to stay backstage.

Savage still hits the second elbow drop. Long is gesticulating wildly at Savage and yelling something about the nWo. Savage leaps over the top rope with nice agility.

But before we go any further…

Son, I am disappoint. I can’t even say “A for effort��� because that is the lowest tier of effort.

Anyway, Savage follows Teddy to the outside of the arena where Teddy announces “YOU GONNA GO ONE-ON-ONE WITH THE UNDERTAKER PLAYA!”

Actually, they run towards a limo.              

The limo drives off as soon as Savage approaches it. What was the point of that?

Flair and Mongo randomly appear as the limo drives away.

There’s another limo there, but only a box of spraypaint inside it. There are a ton of WCW guys out there now – the Horsemen, the Dungeon, Public Enemy, Juvi, Super Calo, Savage… basically everyone who was on TV tonight. They start spraypainting “WCW” on the limo windows… or rather, they try to. Due to the fact it’s been raining and everywhere is wet it ends up just looking like a green smudge. As an aside, if that is in fact not an nWo limo, somebody is going to be in for a surprise.  

For some reason the commentators are all standing up. Tenay is looking more evil every time he’s on camera. It’s like he wants to reach through the camera and strangle each and every viewer.

Seriously though, he is repeatedly making a “pissed-off dad” face.

“Dad, I borrowed your car…”

“Um… and… I got a speeding ticket…”

“And there’s a dent on the front as I kinda sorta knocked over the mailbox…”

Grounded forever.

Anyway, once they all sit back down Heenan goes on a rant about the nWo which concludes with “if we don’t stop them now then they can’t be stopped”. If only you could glimpse into the future and nWo 2000, Bobby.

Oh, by the way, I guess John Tenta won the match against Savage by count out? It wasn’t announced or shown, but Savage jumped out of the ring and never returned, so…

John Tenta defeats “Macho Man” Randy Savage via Countout.

I guess Tenta was right, Savage didn’t put him down after all. Score one for the fish hating weirdo.

Double A suddenly appears on set. Heenan gives Arn his headset. Can’t help but think it’d be better for Anderson to be in the ring with a mic, as the fans in the arena can’t hear any of this… but whatever.

Arn says that the world is “in shock” and “outraged”. The world is probably a bit of a stretch, but OK. Flair turns up as Arn is talking, as do Benoit and Mongo. Arn says that this all began ten years ago with the original Horsemen, and that they paved the way and showed the nWo how to do it. Technically true. Arn says the nWo want to be the Horsemen “when they grow up”.

Tenay continuing to give that evil stare, even at Arn. Bischoff looks kind of sad.

As an aside, I may have mentioned it before, but I really like this shirt design:

Bischoff begins talking about making mistakes, but Flair interrupts him. Flair screams so loudly that the headset seems to take some damage as the volume decreases slightly. Flair explains War Games – although if you don’t know what it is by this point then what have you been doing with your life? – and says Hogan won’t leave War Games alive. Spoiler alert: he does.

Bischoff then talks about how maybe bringing Hogan in to WCW was “a mistake” and that the Horsemen “haven’t been given their just due”. The same exact sentence could have been said in 2000 and been even more relevant.

WCW then ends the show with a replay of Luger getting beaten up by “Sting” and the nWo. I’m sure he appreciates that. A good thing they reminded us, as I think a whole ten seconds passed at the end there without mention of Sting’s betrayal and my memory had started to go hazy.

[psychosistr]

Green-Eyed Monsters- Chapter 6

Summary: On their way home, Steelbeak gets a lecture about why you shouldn’t knowingly drink spiked beverages and Dominic gets an embarrassing answer to a question he didn’t even think to ask...as well as more questions that he still needs answered..

Notes: Just a little interlude before we get into the emotional reconciliation of the final chapter.

-First Chapter-

“-most stupid, idiotic ideas you’ve EVER had!” Dominic’s voice was loud enough to be heard clearly over the roar of the flashy car’s powerful engine and the barely-audible music coming from the radio, even from outside the vehicle. “Why in the world would you knowingly drink not just one, but SEVERAL cocktails laced with who-knows-what?! It could have been arsenic, for all you knew!”

While the lecture certainly sounded harsh, in Dominic’s defense, he’d been quietly seething and biting his tongue for hours before finally getting to unleash the full brunt of his accumulated frustration from the evening’s events. After that two-faced femme-fatale had left them to deal with escaping on their own, the deadly duo had found themselves quite busy escaping the mansion (with the assistance of Emelia’s mattress that they’d thrown out the window to cushion their fall so they could jump from the upper floor more safely), sneaking past security, and speeding off in their getaway-car before security could close off the property. Once they’d escaped, the loon’s top priority had been getting medical attention for his partner, so he’d pushed aside his lingering irritation until one of FOWL’s doctors had cleared Steelbeak and given them the green-light to go home together (the metal-mouthed fowl would be dizzy, nauseous, and possibly have some memory loss the next day, but seemed like he’d recover with some bed rest and medicine provided by the doctor).

Now that they were heading home, however, now he had a perfect opportunity to unleash the rant that had been building since they’d left the mansion.

“Didn’t taste like almonds..” Steelbeak, currently seated in the passenger’s seat of his Lincoln Continental and leaning against the door so he could get the full benefit of the air coming in through the open window, seemed either too out of it, too bored, or too much of both to really be bothered by the volume of his partner’s voice. “Sides, I’ve had worse than a little rope slipped in my drink……give the guy makin’ ‘em some credit for waitin’ ‘til I ordered thicker drinks t’ start goin’ heavier with the pills- couldn’t see ‘em in those..”

The loon’s eyebrow twitched in agitation and he was fairly certain that the scowl on his face would become permanent at this rate. “Here’s a thought: How about NOT showing admiration towards the people who try to drug and murder you? It’s a novel concept, I know, but I think you’d benefit from it!”

Steelbeak’s eyes did their best attempt to roll upon hearing the other man’s sarcastic tone, but they only made it about halfway before giving up and closing. “Never said I admired ‘im…just sayin’ the guy knew what he was doin’…” A quiet groan rumbled in his chest as he rubbed his head, the dizziness still a prevalent symptom he was combating. “You’re makin’ this way bigger than it needs t’ be..ain’t like nothin’ happened-”

Successfully rolling his own red eyes, the darker fowl tried to continue. “Because-”

“-‘cause you were watchin’ out for me.” It was hard to tell if the slightly less coherent man actually knew what the loon was about to say or if he’d been in the middle of saying it to begin with. Either way, his partner let him continue explaining himself; if nothing else, it gave his throat a break and allowed him to prepare for the next round of ranting. “You were watchin’ me like a hawk all night…didn’ really have a way t’ avoid drinkin’ it without lettin’……whatever ‘er name was-”

“Emelia.” Dominic felt a small swell of delight in hearing that the lighter bird couldn’t even remember that conniving carnivore’s name, but he didn’t allow it to show as he kept his eyes on the road and his scowl firmly in place.

“Yeah..her…” Steelbeak gave a slight nod, but couldn’t be bothered to repeat the word. “Couldn’t get outta drinkin’ it without her knowin’ I was ont’ her……but, figured you were watchin’ an’ you’d follow me…” Dark grey eyes finally opened half way, his previous wave of dizziness subsiding for the moment. “Nothin’ else, figured Mara’d follow me like in Rio an’ you’d go after her..”

Whatever slight bit of improvement Dominic’s mood had taken was stripped away at the mere mention of that aggravating double-agent. “Oh, so you were expecting HER to rescue you? Well then, maybe I should have just let you two have your fun since you clearly enjoyed her company so much.”

“Ha! I trust that broad ‘bout as far as she can throw me.” Dark grey eyes glanced at the tight grip the other man had on the steering wheel. “Don’t get why you’re so worked up ‘bout ‘er…she’s not THAT bad…”

Red eyes gave a brief, irritated roll before focusing on the road once more. “Oh, wow, I wonder how I could possibly have a problem with some woman dancing and flirting with my partner all night.” Before he could say anything else on the matter, Dominic was startled when said partner started to laugh hysterically. Caught somewhere between insulted and mildly concerned- he wasn’t sure if this may have been a side-effect of the drugs still affecting Steelbeak’s mood and mental stability- the loon pondered the idea of pulling over to either check on the other man’s health or possibly slap him, depending on what the situation called for.

“You think she was FLIRTIN’ with me?!” The rooster managed to gasp out between fits of laughter, holding his sides as if in pain from the hilarity of the situation. That annoyingly nasal laugh of his was all that could be heard for a solid minute, acting as if this was the funniest thing he’d heard in ages. Just as Dominic was ready to pull the car over and give the overly-gleeful fowl a piece of his mind, Steelbeak managed to get a full sentence out that took him a moment to decipher: “Deedee, she’s ‘bout as interested in me, as you’d be in her.”

When the weight of those words finally sunk in, Dominic felt like he would have smacked himself in the forehead if both hands weren’t still tightly gripping the steering wheel.

A lesbian.

He’d spent a good portion of the evening feeling one-upped and threatened by a lesbian.

Face burning with shame beneath his dark feathers, the aquatic avian decided to deflect his embarrassment with a mask of frustration (not that it was that hard to pull off given their earlier conversation). “Why didn’t you just tell me that from the beginning?”

Having finally gotten over his laughing fit but still sporting an amused grin, Steelbeak slumped back down against the passenger-side door with a shrug. “Ya didn’t ask.” He covered his mouth around a yawn, his previous bout of activity apparently tiring him out again.

“I shouldn’t have to ask.” Dominic shook his head, sparing a less harsh look at the lighter fowl once they’d reached a stop light. “You need to give me any intel that could be vital to our mission. I need to know these things- we’re partners.”

In the few seconds his red eyes glanced away to make sure the light hadn’t changed color, the sharpshooter missed the expression that accompanied Steelbeak’s quiet, slightly disappointed tone of voice. “Is that all we are…?” By the time he looked back to ask for clarification, Dominic saw the other’s dark eyes had closed and he was sound asleep.

Left confused and uncertain once again about Steelbeak’s apparent displeasure regarding their partnership, Dominic sighed and swallowed his words for the time being. They’d have to talk about this when the other man WASN’T recovering from an overdose of mind-altering substances.

<--Previous Chapter Next Chapter-->

End Notes: Short chapter is short, sorry ^.^” Despite its shortness, I hope you guys still enjoyed the little moments of Domino getting to lecture Steelbeak before feeling embarrassed of his own misplaced jealousy xD

[reyxa]

can’t we all just get oolong? ch. 2

AO3

title: can’t we just get oolong? author: Reyxa rating: T summary: au where zuko and iroh settle in ba sing se post-banishment. when a pretty water bender start frequenting the jasmine dragon, zuko’s world turns upside down.

note: slightly shorter chapter this time around but the next one will be Beefy so stay tuned!!

Chapter 2: White Tea

Katara has spent the whole morning distractedly tugging on her braid, a little anxious at the notion of returning to the Jasmine Dragon.

It’s less that she thinks it’s dangerous and far more that she’s nervous to see Zuko. She hates more than anything the way he stirs her chest, the way his name is etched across her mind right now.

“Katara!” Aang jolts her from her reverie, calling her name as he emerges from their bathroom. “You wanna go looking for your mom’s necklace today?”

She searches desperately for an excuse. She just can’t take Aang with her to the teashop. She wouldn’t risk it, especially since it seems like those two firebenders had ties to Azula herself. It would be too dangerous touting the Avatar around like that.

And maybe a part of her really just wants to scope out the teashop again by herself.

“We can’t, Aang.” Sokka pipes up before Katara can even begin to form coherent sentences. “I really want to go talk to some more aristocrats and government officials around here. Knock on some doors.” he combs his hair into his wolf tail as he speaks, squinting into the mirror. “Remember that one guy across the street who warned us about the Dai Li after Joo Di left that first day searching for Appa? I’m sure there’s more people around here willing to talk to us and having the Avatar around won’t hurt.”

Toph is toying with her headband, using it to poke between her toes. “I’m with Snoozles. We should really try to get our plans to the Earth King as fast as possible. Then we can get the hell out of this city.”

Katara hops off the couch to refill her waterskins at the basin, trying to hide her relieved expression. “They’re right, Aang. We should focus on finding Appa and figuring out the invasion first. I’m sure my necklace will turn up! It always does.”

Aang nods. “Yeah, I get it. But we’ll find it as soon as we can, okay?”

She smiles reassuringly.

~

Zuko peers into the teashop from behind the counter, counting the amount of customers who need serving. Sure that his uncle can handle it on his own for a while, Zuko slips out the backdoor into the alley.

The alley is empty save for a few abandoned carts collecting dust. The bustle of the main streets can be heard on either side but hardly anyone glances into the dark cove.

The mid-afternoon sun is high and heavy, but Zuko relishes its presence. He draws on its heat, feels it burn through his veins. Breathing deeply, eyes closed in concentration, he slides into a basic stance.

Drawing on his inner fire, he steps and throws a punch down the alley.

He opens one eye, praying for some sort of flame. His fist smolders, prickling with a fire that won’t burst.

He grunts and throws a regular punch at the wall, hardly feeling the skin on his knuckles split against the brick.

The one thing he was born to do and he can’t even do that.

Okay, okay, what would Uncle say right now? he contemplates, holding his mildly bleeding hand against his chest. ‘Zuko, it is not your ability that is wanting but your ability to look within yourself to seek your true abilities.’ he groans internally. That still makes no sense.

Shaking his head, he commits to working through a few more firebending forms, at most producing short erratic sparks. He isn’t sure how much time has passed but sweat is pouring down his temples and drenching his Jasmine Dragon uniform.

He throws in the towel, mounting frustration turning his mind to shreds. Wiping sweat with the corner of his apron, he slides back into the shop.

As much as he wants to rush upstairs and wash the afternoon off himself, his uncle is waiting by the door, tapping his foot expectantly. “What were you up to, nephew?

Zuko sighs. “I was trying to firebend.”

Iroh’s brow lifts in surprise. “Firebending? Any particular reason?”

Bracing himself for another lecture, Zuko stalks over to the teapots, pouring himself a chilled glass. “How many times do I have to explain, Uncle? Azula is on our tails! She’ll be expecting a fight, you know how she is.”

“This again.” Iroh shakes his head. “Prince Zuko, I understand I cannot remove this notion that the Fire Nation is chasing you. I know it is both what you fear and what you desire. But, please, at least do not let my teashop become collateral damage to your ways.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Zuko storms out into the teashop, piling dirty cups angrily.

He feels like he’s teetering on the edge, like his mind is a hurricane thrashing away at his grip on reality. The last time he had felt so tumultuous, he was angry at being stuck here in Ba Sing Se, instead of being allowed by his Uncle to chase the Avatar. All he had wanted was to return home, Avatar in tow. He had been neglectful of his burn wounds, barely caring for his health and lashing out at his uncle who did.

It had taken a long time for that anger to turn to dejection to turn to acceptance of his circumstance.

But the sight of that girl, with eyes bluer than Ember Island oceans and fierce unyielding words spilling past her lips, had made him regress. She’s a curse, he knows it.

But something tells him she’s his answer too.

~

Katara knows breaking into an unsuspecting teashop full of firebenders in the middle of the night may not be her brightest idea yet but it’s too late to turn back.

The streets are emptied save for a few Dai Li posts but she fancies herself a master of stealth as she hugs the shadows. Her shoes are soundless against the stone-paved streets and she keeps half of her water tucked in the palm of her hand.

The gang still hadn’t really figured out what the deal with the Dai Li is quite yet but Katara does know she’d rather not get caught breaking curfew. She had noticed their piercing gazes and Joo Di’s tight smile when any Dai Li were posted nearby. Though the city was a refugee haven, something told Katara they wouldn’t care very much that she was the Avatar’s companion if she were caught breaking the rules.

The sound of feet slipping against stone whispers in her ear, sending her ducking into an alley until her heart stopped pounding in her ears. The patrol of Dai Li, marching in stiff lines to match their stern faces, pass by her hiding spot without glancing her way.

She steals further down the dark alleyway, not particularly sure where in Ba Sing Se she was. Navigation is Sokka’s thing and she’s only been to the Jasmine Dragon once.

Sighing, she heads back down the main street, still lurking in the shadows. Time passes her by but the moon remains high in the sky, lighting her path.

“Hey! You’re breaking curfew!” a voice shouts behind her.

Katara’s spine stiffens, heart pounding wildly. She draws the rest of her water from her water skin, its presence assuring her she would not be the captured one tonight. She pivots on her toes to face the Dai Li voice.

His rocks are poised to handcuff, feet already in an earthbending stance.

But it isn’t her he’s shouting at.

Dirt flies as she throws herself behind a vacant food stall. She counts her heartbeat as the altercation develops to blows.

“I need back up!” The Dai Li soldier shouts. Katara can hear the sounds of struggle but she isn’t sure who was on the other side.

Against her better judgement, she peeks over the dusty wooden table. The Dai Li soldier slides into his bending forms solidly, pushing rock after rock. Clearly trained well, he springs off the wall as he narrowly escapes the deadly end of twin swords.

Twin swords Katara finds a little familiar.

No way.

Scrambling on hands on knees, she crawls closer to the fight. Her head pokes out from the left side. Across the stone-paved street is the Dai Li agent, sweating under his green robes as he ducks under the reach of a broadsword. Two other agents run in from the far side of the street, faces illuminated beneath the street lamps. Between them is the swordwielder, a flurry of motion as he fights off the agents. A mask conceals his features, a taunting blue smile with tusks on each end.

The man hesitates just for a second before throwing one of his swords to pin a soldier against the wall. Katara can’t help but imagine golden eyes staring at her.

She wants to run. Go back home or keep skirting the streets to find the Jasmine Dragon but she feels glued to her spot as the swordwielder takes hit after hit. He remains soundless, even as a boulder to the chest takes him down. His last sword skitters out of reach.

The Dai Li wear triumphant smiles as they wrestle him to his feet to cuff him. The flash of Water Tribe lapis lazuli tied around his wrist winks at her for a second before rock binds his hands together.

Her heart stops, she blinks as if imagining it. Sighing, she rises to her feet, watching a Dai Li agent reach for his mask. I’m gonna regret this, aren’t I?

Adrenaline is already filling her veins as her waterskins pop open.

Feet pounding against the pavement, she encases her arms with the water and reaches across the street to the agent. The water stretches, wrapping around his shoulders. Katara flicks her wrist, throwing the man against the wall.

Her water splashes over the masked man and the other agent who takes no time to summon a few boulders.

She skids out of their path, throwing ice shards at the agent. His distraction with her loosens the grip he has on the man in cuffs. She watches the rock encasing crumble away from his wrists as he slams them against the brick wall. Katara can’t help a silent smile as he rushes to grab his swords.

Dai Li agents seem to double in numbers every second that passes. They emerge from the shadows and Katara finds herself fearing arrest. For every single agent she knocks out, two others replace him.

She sweeps her leg, water follows its trail and knocks back several Dai Li agents. A presence at her back sets her spine straight but it’s only the masked stranger standing at her back, swords a swift blur.

Instinct takes over. Her body moves through bending forms on its own volition while overly aware of the potential firebender at her back.

A streetful of Dai Li agents either lying unconscious on the pavement or pinned to several buildings are left when they’re done.

Katara’s panting wildly, her heart pounding out of her chest. So much for a discreet heist.

“Come with me.” the masked man grabs her risk and drags her off before she can bother protesting.

~

Zuko tears off his mask as they duck into the alleyway behind the Jasmine Dragon. He waits for surprise to flicker over the waterbender’s face but it doesn’t come.

She simply looks at him, arms crossed. “I have questions.”

“It seems like you always have questions.” he rolls his eyes, sheathing his swords.

Indignation fills her voice. “Yeah, well you owe me answers! Why do you have my mother’s necklace? You took it from me on purpose, didn’t you? Of course you did, why wouldn’t you stoop so low, firebender? You know—”

He grabs her shoulders, hushing her quietly. “Please, stop. You talk more than my uncle.”

Her blue eyes blaze. “Fine. Say your piece.”

He shakes his head. She really is something. “Fine. I didn’t take your necklace, you left it here.”

“And you decided to comb the streets of Ba Sing Se looking for me?! Why?” she’s straining to keep her voice low.

“Let me talk!” Zuko didn’t exactly have an answer as to why he thought taking the necklace and sneaking out would be a good idea. There was a very slim chance he would run into her or find where she was staying but he had taken the chance anyway. He can’t help but feel a little smug that it worked out. “I needed answers. I needed to know what you know about Azula.”

“I’m still not convinced you’re not working with her. Your uncle is nice enough but you, I don’t know.” she steps away from him, eyeing the necklace dangling from his wrist.

“I’m not working with my sister and I never would!” he chews his lip, eyes flickering over her face. He sighs. “I just want to keep my uncle and his teashop safe from her. If she found out we were in the city…”

Her eyes soften a little and something in Zuko’s chest shifts. He throws the feeling to the back of his mind. There’s no time to analyze that. “I— fine. But I have questions too.”

He nods, feeling the pit in his stomach dissipate. He’ll finally get answers. He can finally find peace.

“Are you two going to keep shouting in the alleyway or will you at least come inside?”

Zuko jumps back at the sound of his uncle’s voice. The waterbender is holding fistfuls of his shirt, equally startled.

Iroh grins at them, still in his pajamas. He gestures for them to follow, humming as he leads them into the teashop.

Zuko and the waterbender girl glance at each other before she yanks back her hands and follows his uncle.

Zuko shakes his head and shuts the door behind them.

[theatresweetheart]

Desperate Measures [ Finale ]

Fandoms: Sanders Sides, G/t

Warnings: Swearing, over-exhaustion, depressive thoughts, traumatic flashbacks, brief injury mention, fainting. (If I missed something, please let me know!)

Pairings: Romantic/Parental Logicality, Platonic Logince, Platonic TLAMP

Word Count: 2960 words

Taglist: @isle-of-gold @anonymous-bean @sandersships  @kaytikitty @picklesandbeyond @minty4green

Chapter Navigation: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Epilogue.

                                  +~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+

It was an odd scenario, he could say that, but to know that this was possibly his chance to get home was what was giving him peace.

Logan cleared his throat after a moment, gaining both Roman and Thomas’s attention again. “I must ask, how long will I be in your company? Even if you do plan to assist me in getting home.”

The two others shared a look, almost unsure of how to proceed from here. Looks like the plan hadn’t really been thought all the way out and Logan’s safety may have been the main priority.

He was…mildly flattered, to say the least.

“We were sort of leaving that up to you,” Thomas said, clasping his hands together, almost wringing them. “We’d be more than willing to host you. Help you replenish your strength and offer some rest and time to recuperate.”

They were offering to give him a safe—so far—place to stay the night? It was almost unheard of. The fact that they were being so kind as to allow him to stay without really knowing anything about.

For all they knew, Logan could be lying about having a family waiting for him.

While that wouldn’t really do him any good except get him unwanted pity, he hadn’t exactly given them a reason to doubt him.

Nor a reason to trust him, either.

If he were truly being honest with himself, he was exhausted. So much had been happening in these past months and Logan had hardly had a moment of peace to himself. There was always something happening, something to think about, someone to snark back at. Something to push or throw. Logan had spent a lot of his downtime during the night planning. He slept, yes, but there was always something greater to be doing.

Always something more.

Always trying to find a way to escape without creating too much of a stir.

He was exhausted from the long nights staying up, sleepless while trying to find another way to annoy the shopkeeper into letting him go. Into finally getting so fed up with his childish shenanigans that they would have opened the cage and let him find his way back home.

Logan had never been so lucky.

Not until now.

To find now that he could have peace of mind and possibly get some sleep that would replenish what little strength he had left. It was necessary. The longer he went without sleep, the worse off he would be, Logan had learned this from many all-nighters. Which never stopped him from pulling them. Never once did he stop. Not when he needed to do something.

While the other borrowers that had been in the cage with him had always been so willing to go to sleep at decent times of the night, Logan stayed up.

The young woman that had been with him a couple weeks prior had tried to soothe him. To get him to go and lay down with her, if not for the coupling, then for her own comfort. She had been uncomfortably touchy, especially when she was trying to get something from him.

He would be sitting by himself late into the night and suddenly her hands would appear on his shoulders—which had successfully startled him a few times—and she would let her hands rub into them, trying to ease the tension that he had built up over the months.

Logan had come to learn that women preferred when a male was around, as that stronger presence would make them feel safer.

While he had understood initially that having another person near you could comfort you in times of need, there were only two people that were able to comfort him. The young woman, as kind and naive as she had been, was not one of them.

“A night here would be appreciated,” Logan finally spoke his mind, shaking the unwanted thoughts away, his eyes glanced between Roman and the other borrower again, his weariness finally showing through the colder facade. The action was trusting and such an action truly revealed what Logan was underneath the indifferent mask; a young man that was tired of the world’s constant demeaning. A man that wanted nothing more than to get back home. “If it really isn’t too much trouble.”

“Nonsense,” Roman’s voice was softer than it had been, “it would be no trouble at all. I can get some soft cloths together for you.” As the human moved to stand, he seemed to pause for a moment and reconsidered, offering a small—almost reassuring—grin over his shoulder. “I know this isn’t really ideal, for anyone really, but thank you for at least a little bit of your trust.”

And just like that, Roman left without giving Logan a chance to even register what he had said.

So, the bespectacled borrower stood there a moment looking like he wanted to formulate a coherent sentence. When that failed, he instead turned his attention to the other borrower, who had his hands tucked into his pockets comfortably.

“I know he can be a bit much but he means well,” Thomas spoke up, a soft look on his features. Understanding and trusting. “His heart really is in the right place.”

“How did you know I was in that pet shop?”

While the question may have seemed a bit brash and out of the blue, Logan couldn’t say that he wasn’t interested.

“I wasn’t there,” he said, offering a small shrug of his shoulders, taking the sudden question in stride. “I remember Roman coming back from classes one afternoon ranting about someone like me. He had been talking so fast that I hardly had time to really understand what he was talking about. For a bit there, I thought he had found someone.” He grinned, laughing a bit as if lost in a memory unseen to Logan. “Went on like that for a good ten minutes before I was able to manage to say anything to him. It didn’t take long before he said that there was another like me, except one that had been caught. Roman said he had overheard some other students talking about you in the hallways.”

The thought made Logan shudder, in all honesty.

Thomas continued after a brief pause. “So, he went to the pet shop after to see if the rumours were true and lo and behold, there you were with another.”

“Arthur,” Logan stated after a moment. “His name was Arthur.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, a genuine look crossed his features. “That you had to go through all of that at all.”

Logan shrugged his shoulders noncommittally. “It really wasn’t that bad.” 

Except it was. Sometimes worse than one could imagine. To be mocked daily for being caught or for how small he was. All those rude remarks came flooding back and he winced as if he had been physically hit.

He tried so hard not to let it impact him, but sometimes, in the dead of the night, the harsh words were all he could hear.

“Can’t believe they actually caught one. Look at it. Little pest.”

“They should just put the poor thing out of its misery. Not like it has a life to live anyways.”

“Borrowers don’t have families. It’s just an excuse to make people pity them.”

“Vermin like you should be exterminated.”

“I bet there’s a cat out there that’s already gotten to your family. You’re better off here anyways, normal people are probably much better company.”

Logan knew not to take any of those words seriously, but it was sickening to know that there were humans out in the world that would kill a borrower if they were to get the opportunity.

When he felt a hand on his shoulder suddenly, Logan gasped and jolted away from him. Blinded by the fear of his memories.

His gaze drifted downwards to his forearms and he could see bruises littering them. The pain in his left shoulder when he had been handled so carelessly by children and adults alike. The tight grasp of a child who didn’t understand how fragile his body was compared to the strength in just their hands. Or the knowledge of the power that the adults had over him, that had used that over him.

“I finally gotcha, ya little runt,” the janitor’s voice echoed loudly in his head like bells, a laugh that could have shattered his eardrums followed. “Took me long enough, huh? You were a tough catch. Shame I wasn’t able to get the other two, but I s’pose you’ll have to do.”

Logan could hear the voice, shaking him to his core. The way it rumbled through his bones.

“Though, I s’pose just one of you will still be a steep price for any buyer.”

When he looked up, Logan wasn’t in a new place anymore. He was back in that damned cage, green eyes staring back at him looking smug and gleeful. He felt his heart sink.

His hands were shaking, he realized belatedly.

No, he was shaking all over, it wasn’t just his hands.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re alright,” the gentle voice of the other borrower broke through into Logan’s conscious and he looked up to him, but he wasn’t really looking to see him. “You’re not there anymore. You’re with me. You’re safe.”

It took a moment of fighting with his consciousness to really register that he was safe. He was safe for the first time in a very long time.

It still didn’t feel real.

When Thomas reached out this time, Logan didn’t flinch away and was instead slightly more relaxed when he felt the warm touch of another person his size. After being around humans for so long, being with one of his own kind was refreshing.

When he looked back down to his arms, the bruises were non-existent. His skin was clean, save for the scars that lined his forearms from his first failed escape attempt.

His hand brushed down the length of his forearm, feeling the scarred skin. It was almost a reassurance. There was no pain when he touched it, so the bruises must have been some sort of hallucination. Maybe he was overtired. He was probably overtired.

Logan then shook himself, before clearing his throat. “I—I apologize for that, I seemed to have had a relapse.”

“That’s okay,” came the gentle response, “you’re allowed to feel, you know.”

No, he didn’t know.

He hadn’t known that freedom in the past six months. If Logan had shown any emotion whatsoever to a human captor, he would have been punished for it. He had only ever safe comfortable showing emotion around Patton and Virgil because no matter what, they were always there. Patton with a caring touch and Virgil, while so young, trying to assist in any way he could.

The other sighed quietly. “I think you staying the night is a good idea,” he said after a moment, taking a step back from Logan, not wanting to overwhelm him with too much attention at once. “It would probably help you really understand that you’re going home.”

Home.

Home.

Logan finally got to go home.

It was then that everything he refused to feel flooded forwards and water immediately brimmed his eyes. He laughed hoarsely—a helpless noise between joy and overwhelming emotion—after a moment, pulling his glasses off to rub at the wetness. He refused to let any tears fall, but the true relief was there. It was no longer a dream to see them again, Logan had that chance. The chance that he had been waiting six months for.

Almost as if Thomas could feel it, he stepped closer again but this time was a bit more startled to find Logan reaching out and grabbing onto him. Physical displays of gratitude were not something he was used to, but he needed it. He needed that sort of reassuring touch.

“You’re alright,” he soothed him, just as Logan’s hands tightened in the back of his shirt, his shaking began to increase as everything really did register with him. It was hard to believe, in all honesty.

Six months of suffering were over because of a human that actually seemed to genuinely care. A human that had his heart in the right place, even if his motives were a bit odd.

“Breathe with me, okay?” He started off, sinking to his knees as Logan slowly began to drag him down. “In for four seconds, hold for seven and out for eight. I can count with you, if you’d like.”

It took a moment, but Logan was nodding. His mind was in a frenzy and counting himself was not going to help.

“Stop throwing things, Logan, for God’s sake. You’re only going to drive more people away like that.”

“You tell me that as if I don’t know it,” he had snarled back, a sharp glare over his shoulder. “I want to go home.”

The shopkeeper sighed, shaking their head. “This is your home. At least, until someone comes along and actually wants you.”

“No. This hellhole is not my home.” He had paused at that, sharing a look with the shopkeeper standing above him, watching him between the bars of the metal cage, looking weary. “I want out of this cage. I want out of this pet shop. I want to be treated like a fucking person. Do you understand me?”

“You’re not a person, Logan,” they had said back. The sentence had winded him as if he hadn’t expected those words to come out. It had been a sharp and cold reminder of his future if he didn’t find a way out of this mess. “You’re a borrower and everyone knows that a borrower is not a person.”

“You’re safe,” Thomas’s voice shattered the memory that had demanded all of his attention.

He was far too tired for this.

Logan kept listening to the steady counting, the reassuring words. It almost made him feel better, hearing such a steady rhythm. Something he could predict and follow, without a surprise in the mix. The exhaustion began to settle in like a heavy blanket. It weighed over his shoulders, dragging him further down and he allowed himself to be held. At the moment, he could have cared less that he was with a stranger, he just needed to sleep.

After a few more rounds of slow and soft counting, Logan was drifting off—without meaning to, of course—and the young man slumped fully into the other borrower’s arms, who was then shifting his weight to hold Logan a bit more steadily, without the worry of him slipping and waking up again.

He didn’t deserve that. If this was the most sleep he had gotten in a while, there was no reason to wake him up. Certainly not by accident. It wouldn’t be fair to him.

It was a sight that hurt his heart, he admitted. Seeing the male so emotionally and physically exhausted. Roman had made the right call—of course he had—to get Logan out of that place, especially if this was the aftermath. How long had he been separated from his family? It probably would have been a question to ask before he had passed out, but stuff like that could wait until the morning.

As soon as he was sure Logan was out like a light, Thomas was able to stop his counting. But now he found himself in a bit more of a position.

This wasn’t the first time he had had someone fall asleep on him, but the other times he had been somewhat alright with disturbing them, even if for a little bit. Logan was a different case altogether. It didn’t exactly seem as though he slept. At least, not a lot.

Possibly not enough.

It was easy to believe that being stuck in a pet shop for God knows how long would leave someone sleep deprived and mentally scarred.

A couple minutes later and there were the telltale sounds of a human returning to the room. Though, before Thomas could even say a warning, Roman was already speaking.

“Alright, so I found some—”

“Shh!” The hush was certainly a bit sharper than he meant it to be, but it was enough to gain Roman’s attention. Without saying anything, he was then motioning to Logan, who was now fast asleep against him.

It took a moment before he realized what was wrong before it hit him. ‘Oh,’ he quietly mouthed back to the borrower who had apparently been dubbed a safe enough person to fall asleep on, stranger or not.

It wasn’t hard to get to the table without making a noise, but there was the worry of accidentally nudging it and causing the table to shake.

��Tired?’

Thomas nodded. This was probably the most exhausted he had seen someone his own size before. The way Logan had just seemed so ready to slump over and let his exhaustion take control. It was discouraging.

Whatever he had been through had taken more of a toll on him than they had been led to believe at first. Especially with how distant Logan seemed to be—for the most part, at least.

It also proved to him how much better a person Roman was compared to a lot of other people.

The others he had managed to help since the two of them had started working in tandem had been weary all the same, but not to the point where they gave up on consciousness. Like this, there was only so much they could do to help him, but there was still hope.

There always was.

[thesummerstorms]

Rev Recaps Hard Contact (Chapter 19)

CW: Violence & blood. 

TL;DR Recap: Niner and Fi kill the scientists as they flee Uthan’s facility and Darman blows it up from underneath. Hokan realizes he now has no scientists and no virus. Etain briefly distracts Atin and he gets shot. Uthan is injured by shrapnel from his armor. Niner and Fi try to take down Hokan, but struggle against his beskar’gam. Niner decides on a trap.

Beginning Kal Count: 37 Ending Kal Count: 39

Last chapter, with the exception of the date rape joke, was actually fairly satisfying, so by the Traviss Law of Plotting, this one has to make me sigh. Here we go.

Darman and Atin are approaching the safety point where they can blow up the science facility from underneath, but Niner is observing it topside and tells them to hold off when he notices something happening.

Somewhere in the middle of that, we get this line”

Which, spoiler for Triple Zero, it absolutely is his new tic.

 Hokan has killed the lights, and when Niner’s night-vision kicks in, he hesitates to shoot at the people coming out of the building because he sees Hokan’s t-shaped visor and Niner associates with clones (and probably Kal, though mercifully that isn’t brought up for once) and his brain jumps to Atin and Dar, despite them being a ways away. After a moment, he opens fire when he realizes it’s Hokan, but it’s too late. After another second, a second group makes a break for it (Hurati and the scientists) and he and Fi successfully gun down 3/4 people. See? Foreshadowing. 

They decide to put more explosives into the facility, just to be on the safe side, so Fi and Niner throw in six anti-armor grenades to take out any remaining droids close to the surface, and also set the E-Web to overload. Then they book it, because Dar’s about to blow up the labs from underneath, and absolutely no one wants to be in that blast radius.

The things that make Fi happy.

Sadly, this is not endex. We switch to Hokan’s pov for the updated casualty report. He’s survived and so has Hurati, but all of the scientists are dead.

Niner apparently hit someone, just not Hokan. Or Hokan’s armor protected him. Or the scientist functionally turned into a shield. Hurati confirms that  he survived because he hit the ground, but that when he yelled drop, none of the scientists dropped. Hokan confirms that civilians tend to do that. Hurati adds more bad news by explaining that, given the color/temperature/position of the explosion, there’s no chance that any samples of the virus left in the facility survived. Which means Hokan has lost Uthan, the science team, and the virus work all in very short order. His only shot is to recapture Uthan, but his staff is down to him and Hurati, so chances aren’t great. He decides to try it anyway, sends Hurati hunting, and settles in to listen for the commandos.

We then switch to Etain’s POV. This is the scene that makes me sigh. But I’m just gonna ignore authorial intent and power through.

I can’t think of a great explanation for Etain being able to sense the larty and not droids/weapons/ *ahem* minefields. I really just don’t know. Best guess is what she’s feeling is less the gunship itself and more the Force rippling with the currents caused with what will happen because of the gunship/ how her life will be changed...

... but again. Triple Zero. The minefield. I don’t know.

a) “its drive chang[ed] pitch, and Darman reacted as if someone were talking to him” 

b)  everyone seems, at best, mildly perturbed the first time they see Atin be even remotely cheerful, and it’s pretty damn funny. If only it wasn’t a set up for disaster.

a) I pity that specific soldier too.

b) okay, so the “clones are appreciative of the little things & look how grateful they are compared to your average civvie” has been a MASSIVE throughline in this book (and series) but “His dreams were modest. She thought that was a fine example to set.” Actually, you know what, no, not when you look at the systemic reasons for the “modesty”. This line is just creepy.

c) (the highlighed line) Etain wants Darman’s respect. That should be your immediate red flag signal that something terrible is about to happen immediately so the narrative can show her why she doesn’t deserve it yet again.

d) (still though... she wants his respect, specifically, she wants to know what he wants to do when they finally escape this miserable place. notably, she isn’t even thinking what she’ll do, though of course having already read the book we know she doesn’t get to escape. but it’s not subtle is all I’m saying.)

Okay, so the set up the narrative is going for is clearly:

Etain wants to be liked/appreciated/respected so she decides to show off with her Force abilities ---> Professional and Competent Soldier is Distracted by Etain at the wrong moment ---> Atin gets shot and it’s Etain’s fault because she distracted herself and him with Force powers but those Force powers weren’t even good enough to see the REAL threat so what use are they actually, she’s worthless.

ahem.

As an Etain RP player... I tend to keep this as exactly how she perceives/remembers this incident. Her fault. A confirmation yet again that she isn’t worth anything to anyone, that she’s useless. The guilt stays with her, unless someone finally manages to corner her to talk about it, which no one has yet.

As someone critiquing the narrative... look, we’ve seen Omega get taken by surprise and be shot at before in this book. What it horrible, terrible timing that Atin is shot while Etain is, admittedly, showing off a bit because all three characters have relaxed after hearing the gunship? Yes. It’s terrible. But I really don’t feel like Etain deserves a much larger percentage of blame for what’s ultimately a matter of bad timing.

As for her not sensing Hurati... listen, Traviss you literally had her sense a gunship, aka machinery, not five minutes ago. Yet she can’t sense one clearly malicious/dangerous shooter nearby? Not only is that inconsistent with every pattern you have written so far, it’s an obvious authorial choice to force this exact situation despite internal coherency. Not unlike the minefield in True Colors.

I wish she’d just make a consistent thread for Etain’s abilities, but they’re always magically heightened when its necessary to resolve a plot, and otherwise diminished at any possible given moment so that we can rag on her some more.

Anyway, Darman downs Hurati and gets a look at him through the scope:

“He is now.” pffff.

Darman field medics Atin, who isn’t doing great, and prepares to carry him to the larty. Atin, per his history, tries to convince Darman to leave him behind, because, again. He’s been in this position before. Even if he weren’t critically injured, this would be pressing all his trauma buttons.

With Dar caring for/carrying Uthan, that leaves Etain to carry the partially sedated Uthan, except Etain realizes that Uthan has also been injured. She has a shard of shrapnel from Atin’s armor embedded in her ribs. This means that, if you view this incident as Etain’s fault, Etain has accidentally just endangered/ruined the entire mission. With Uthan dead, they might as well have blown up the planet from orbit and spared everyone the bleeding and the heartache. Great.

She’s got a point about trauma, but to be entirely fair to Kast, he didn’t teach her lessons that were “learned quicker by almost dying” because that’s an insane way to teach. Additionally, she’s also falling in love for the record, and just doesn’t know it yet, but I’m tired of KT’s pogoing back and forth between “jedi/not jedi” so we’re moving on.

So this is Kal Count 38, but it actually is a fair point about Fi versus Skirata, so I’m okay with this one. Fi and Niner start to talk about where they’d rather be deployed next, urban versus jungle, but it quickly devolves into an admission that Fi is not entirely detached or coping well; he just wants to be.

Fi gets the least amount of development of all of Omega Squad in this book, but it’s moments like these when you step back and remember, he also just watched all three of his original brothers die. Niner trying to reassure him is heartbreaking, as is realizing Fi is “shutting down” and trying to distance himself because it’s all happening again, and so close to the last mission, too.

Hokan cuts off this emotional moment by firing on Niner & Fi. They have difficulty because Hokan is wearing beskar’gam, which is as tough or tougher than their own armor, and he also is armed with a Verpine shattergun, which just made very quick work of Atin’s armor.

Fi and Niner realize that if they don’t hurry it up, Majestic will leave without them because now that Uthan has been captured, they’re unimportant to the mission. (They aren’t even wrong, actually; they just don’t know that Zey will end up staying on planet.) They comm Darman, who offers to leave Atin at the gunship and come back for them, but he’s got 10 minutes until he even gets to the larty, and Niner orders him to stay back. Then Hokan throws an EMP at them, and Niner & Fi lose all systems because apparently when the katarn helmets got upgraded after Geonosis they weren’t stress tested properly.

They try to throw some IEDs after Hokan, complaining about “civvies” who tested the armor the entire time, but that fails so they have to come up with another plan. Niner decides to try and trap him.

Kal Count jumps to 39, with one more chapter to go. But those last two lines never fail to break my heart.

[a-strange-inkling]

SASUSAKU MONTH DAY 2: Patterns

Rated T (for suggestive content and language)

Summary: Only in another life would Sakura ever hate Sasuke, and even then it’s debatable. Though in a different sky, the stars always follow the same pattern (RTN AU, First Chapter of Story that I’ve been working on) 

 Annoying

"You aren't mad at me, are you Sakura?" 

Ah. There they were. 

Uchiha Sasuke's infamous Puppy-Dog Eyes. 

Haruno Sakura held back a sneer as she turned her attention back to the romance novel she was currently indulging, not in the mood for any of her overly hormonal team mate's antics.  The sweet, childlike innocence in those round, onyx orbs of his was as sincere as a tray of fucking cheese. Sasuke knew better than anyone that she was mad at him. 

She was always mad at him. 

"Sa-ku-ra..." he cooed, trying again for her attention, speaking her name at a low and chilling octave, knowing she hated when he did that.

The Fourth Hokage's daughter only snorted at the sound of her name rolling seductively off his lips, before pivoting her entire body away from him, crossing her legs with a steely grace.  

Sasuke rolled his eyes, unable to repress the smirk that had been playing at the corner of his mouth. "Well, I must have really hit close to the mark this time, you're even pulling out your age-old Ice Queen persona." 

Sakura simply glared at the written text in front of her, refusing to get in yet another spat with the arrogant boy. However, the young Uchiha had not quite given up yet, he knew one particular trick that would get to the cold young woman.

"You know, no one has mastered the silent treatment quite like you, Sakura-chan."

"Don't call me that." Sakura hissed quickly, shooting him one of her nastiest looks. She never let him call her that.

Sasuke's smirk deepened. "Seems there is still some room for improvement though." 

"Look, there is a pair of breasts right over there, Sasuke!" she exclaimed with feigned excitement, pointing to a fairly pretty brunette who was making her way down the street. "Why don't you go bother them for a while?"  

Sasuke eyed the passing young woman thoughtfully, mildly interested, before shaking his head and turning his attention back to the spunky rosette. "Shouldn't do that, you might get jealous, then you'd be even madder at me." 

Sakura stood then, abruptly, closing her book with a resounding snap, as she put distance between herself and the young Uchiha. 

"Come on, Sakura!" he called after her, growing annoyed as the kunochi went to find another place to wait for the rest of their squad. She was secretly pleased that his voice had an agitated edge to it instead of the usual carefree ring that usually resounded from his mouth. "Are you going to be like this the whole mission?" 

Silently, with her unparalleled grace, the kunochi leapt up several branches of a nearby oaktree, before settling back down with her book.  It was all of nine seconds before Sasuke was perched behind her, peering over her shoulder. 

"...how's your latest 'Kiss Handsome Boy' book?" he asked coyly. 

"The hero is not handsome, he's deformed," Sakura replied with a roll of her eyes.  "What's compelling about him is how deeply he loves and how loyal he is... Something you wouldn't know anything about." 

"Deformed as in one side of his otherwise attractive face," Sasuke rolled his eyes. "Oh, is there a scar over one of his eyes? Or is he missing a limb?" 

Sakura looked skyward in agitation. 

"Heh." Sasuke smirked. "He's just missing a limb isn't he?" 

"Would you just leave me alone, please?" Sakura asked him with a sigh, shifting down the branch. 

"Oh, come on, aren't you going to tell me more about your hero?" the Uchiha asked smugly. "I bet he's all brooding and tortured with a tragic past, and I'm sure only you can save him." 

Sakura growled in agitation before closing the book once more and placing it in her back pouch before turning her jade orbs on the Uchiha playboy.

"Okay, Sasuke, you win," she said, crossing her arms. "You have my attention, now what the hell do you want?" 

"Hey," Sasuke put his hands up in surrender. "I'm just trying to find out why you're mad at me, Sakura-chan, it's not good for a team to go on a mission with unresolved issues." 

"I'm not mad at you, Sasuke." she said evenly. "I just genuinely can't stand you." 

"Aw." Sasuke chided, swinging his legs over the branch to let them swing. "We both know that's not true, we used to be friends once, you even used to call me Sasuke-kun, remember?" 

"I was just a stupid kid back then," she replied. "Now, would you leave me alone, it's bad enough I have to spend a whole week with you." 

The infamous playboy placed a hand over his heart. "Ah, you wound me, Sakura-chan... Don't you care at all about the importance of teamwork?" 

"Oh, are you going to lecture me about teamwork?" she asked him. "You, the one who abandoned the team to flirt with that busty nimrod last time?" 

"You're so high and mighty, you know that?" He scoffed. "Sorry that I like to enjoy myself once in a while and talk to people, unlike Menma who can barely form coherent words around women, and you, because you're too busy trying to keep up you're frigid bitch facade." 

"Wow, Sasuke." Sakura gave him a mocking grin. "And you wonder why I don't like you." 

"That's your problem, you don't like anyone," Sasuke explained matter-o-factly. "That's why you're so lonely all the time." 

She felt her breathing hitch and her whole body stiffen at the word. 

What did he just say?

Lonely...

"How would you know?" she asked lowly. "You don't know a damn thing about being alone."

"Sakura..." he began, realizing he had gone a little overboard.  She was just so harsh sometimes, he couldn't help it. "I didn't mean it like that, I just..." 

"You're so damn annoying! Acting like you actually know me!" she exclaimed, so angry she didn't know what to do with herself. "Why don't you just keep your mouth shut about things you don't understand!?"  She stood up and leapt down from the tree, unwilling to wait around with him a moment more. 

Luckily, Menma appeared, walking up the cobbled path, giving her a shy smile. "M-morning, Sakura-chan."

"Hello, Menma." she replied with a sigh of relief. "It's so good to see you." 

"It really is," Sasuke replied, jumping down from his perch. "I'll have a witness in case Sakura-chan tries to do me in." 

Menma sighed to himself. It seemed this would be another mission of tension between his two teammates.  "Hey, Sasuke... M-my mom made cookies for the journey if you guys want some," he told them, holding out a brown paper bag where his mother had drawn a lopsided smiley face.  It was an immature tactic to make peace, but it was effective more times than not. 

"Ah!" Sasuke exclaimed, helping himself. "Let me at 'em! Kushina-san's cookies are always the best!" 

"Sakura-chan?" Menma encouraged her to take one, trying not to blush. 

"No thanks, Menma." Sakura replied, putting up a hand.  "I'm on a cleanse, but they smell delicious." 

"A cleanse?" Menma asked. 

"Probably for the best." Sasuke nodded. "They’re too sweet to share with someone so bitter. Not to mention you've been growing a little thicker around the middle." 

Menma cringed in fear. Did Sasuke just call her fat? Did he dare? So much for his peace cookies. Maybe he should try dumplings next time.

A sort of dark shadow fell over Sakura's eyes as she shot a deadly glare up at her raven-haired teammate. 

Sasuke smirked in response. "Sorry, koishii, that doesn't work on me." 

Sakura had a talent for scaring off her many admirers with that dark look alone, however, that frightening attitude of hers had an opposite effect on Sasuke.

 He wasn't afraid, only amused. 

"Heh," she replied, startling him a bit and switching gears as an easy smile spread across her face, mirroring his own. That may not work on him, but she knew something that would. "On second thought, I would love a cookie."

She strode past him then, with a little extra swing of her hips, purposefully knocking her shoulder with his own as she did so, and took a large round cookie from the offered bag."Thanks, Menma-kun, you're so sweet!"

Surprising both her male teammates, the kunoichi leaned up and brushed her lips against Menma's cheek as a token of her appreciation, making the blonde turn seven different shades of red and Sasuke's smirk diminish a little. 

"Da...uh... N-no problem, Sakura-chan." the poor boy stuttered, his hands clenching around the cookie bag, lost somewhere between pure joy and mortification.  His mom was right.  Sweets were the way to a girl's heart! 

Sakura turned and smirked triumphantly at Sasuke, glad to see his own had melted into a displeased frown, as she took a slow enticing bite of the cookie.  "Mmm... you're right, Sasuke, these really are the best." 

"Hn." he hummed. "Careful you don't choke, Sakura."

"Good morning, students!" Kakashi greeted, interrupting the spat. 

"Ah, right on time as always, Sensei." Sasuke waved before shoving his hands in his pockets. "Where are we off to today?" 

...

"Tell me." 

"No, go away." 

"C'mon, just tell me what's bothering you." 

"No! Stop that! Get the hell away from me!" 

"Sakuraaaaa."

"Sasuke." 

"Look, I'll stop bugging you for the rest of the journey if you just tell me." 

"No!" 

"Please, Sakura," Kakashi begged from where he was leading the three teenagers. "For all our sakes, take him up on that offer." 

Menma nodded in agreement.  It was hard to focus on reading the map with those two bickering behind him. 

"I'm not giving in to his whining." the rosette replied angrily.  "...I'm going on ahead to scout." 

With that, she leapt away into the trees and disappeared from sight.  Sasuke moved to jump after her. 

"Sasuke, give her some space,"  Kakashi commanded.  

"Heh, she's not getting away that easily." was the ninja's careless and insubordinate reply.  

Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Sasuke knew Sakura. He had known her his whole life and she really wasn't the icy, badass bitch she made herself out to be.  She had been putting up with his normal bullshit for years with the usual scoff or roll of the eyes, whatever he had done most recently must have really upset her.  

And, truth be told, he wasn't all too happy with her either. 

"I can't really be sorry for something if I didn't even know what I did, you know?" he told her once he caught up with the angry kunoichi.  "Come on, I genuinely want to know what's wrong." 

"You, genuine?" she scoffed. 

"Okay, I don't deserve that," he told her. "We're not thirteen anymore, your lousy attitude is not going to send me into the corner feeling bad about what I did. I'm human, I make mistakes.  Not all of us can be perfect like you..." 

"You see, that's exactly what gets on my nerves." she turned on him then, her finger pointed right into his face. "You think everything is about you." 

"Well, isn't this about me?" he asked. "Isn't that why you haven't spoken to me for days, this morning, and that stunt with Menma you did to try and get me jealous." 

"Ha! Don't flatter yourself." 

"Well, you were." he laughed. "Unfortunately, I'm not the jealous type like you." 

That earned him a glare. "Whatever makes you feel better, Sasuke." 

"Look," he sighed. "Is this really going to be the whole mission? Can we just..." 

"Ino is not one of those girls!" she exclaimed. 

"What?" Sasuke asked, dumbfounded. 

"Ino," she remarked. "You know, my best friend? She's not like those girls you hang out with, the ones who enjoy flirting with you as much as you enjoy flirting with them.  She's shy, even more so than Menma, anytime a guy gives her any attention she takes it to heart. She took you flirting with her seriously." 

"Who are we even talking about?" he asked, confused. 

"INO!" Sakura exclaimed.  "She's been in every class with both of us since the Academy. Blonde haired, blue-green eyes, wears five layers of clothing." 

"Ohhhhh." Sasuke realized. "The stuttering girl... she's your friend still, huh?" 

"Kami." Sakura hissed, turning and jumping to another branch.  

"Look, Sakura, wait," Sasuke called after her. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean anything by it, it was Shikamaru's idea, it was all just a joke." 

"Just a joke?" Sakura asked him. "Hurting a girl's feelings and making her feel foolish for believing you were actually genuine is not a joke... do you know how hard it was for me to tell her what you're really like, that you didn't actually like her, you were just messing with her?" 

"Look, it was stupid," he sighed, jumping and landing beside her once more. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well, you tell her that next time you see her," she quipped. "Maybe she'll forgive you." 

"Fine, mama bear, I will."  he sighed, placing a heavy hand on her shoulder. "As usual, you're blowing this way out of proportion." 

She shoved his hand away and crossed her arms. "I told you what was bothering me, wasn't that the deal? Now stop bugging me for the rest of the trip." 

With that she jumped away again, not slowing down, leaving Sasuke to stare after her. 

Kami, that girl. She drove him absolutely crazy. 

... 

They set up camp and Team 7 had fallen into a not so easy silence.  Sasuke had been true to his word and let Sakura alone, but the tension from before was still sizzling in the air as they went about their tasks. It was all standard teenage shit for Kakashi, but Menma was always uncomfortable with any sort of discourse, especially between his only two friends, and found himself actually missing their bickering. This competitive silence was somehow worse. 

Once they all settled around the fire, Menma had calculated that no one had spoken for an hour and twenty-three minutes. While he was a quiet fellow, himself, this was just ridiculous. He turned to Kakashi with a pleading look. 

Do something, Sensei! 

But the silver-haired jonin was looking over their map, planning for the next morning, quite content with the silence, no matter how awkward it was. Menma turned to his right to see Sakura at the farthest end of the fire, her nose in her book, legs crossed and body pivoted away from them all.  To his left sat Sasuke, sharpening his kunai, a full pout on his face as he watched Sakura's back. Menma had never seen him so grumpy. Though bothering Sakura was his lifeblood, being cut off for even an hour seemed to have negative effects. 

Menma, knowing it was up to him to break the ice, squeezed his cookie bag in dread. He hated bringing attention to himself, but if it was for the good of his team, he would do it.  He glanced around before choosing the member of his squad he currently liked best to try to engage with.  While it was a wide known fact that Sasuke was his best friend, Sakura-chan was very pretty. 

Plus she had kissed him that morning, he still felt it burning beneath his skin.  

"How is your book, Sakura-chan?" he chirped, feeling blood rush to his cheeks. The sound of his soft, raspy voice was like a piano crashing from the sky on top of them all. He felt Sasuke's glare burning a hole in the back of his head and realized that he may have betrayed a rule of comradery between them that he had been unaware of. Apparently, if the Uchiha wasn't talking to Sakura, he wasn't allowed to talk to her either.

Forgive me, brother!

Sakura lowered her book and gave him a rare sweet smile over her shoulder. "It's a work of genius." she sighed dreamily. "The hero just proposed to his dying lover." 

"Oh, that's um... nice," Menma replied, though he wasn't sure if it was. He wasn't one for reading, and certainly couldn't manage a thick romance novel without dying from secondhand embarrassment, but Sakura never went on a mission without one. It was the funny riddle of her being for her teacher and teammates, that someone as cold and crass as the village Ice Queen read sappy paperbacks. 

Sasuke scoffed from behind, but Menma didn't even dare to face him. "There's one more cookie, if you want it, Sakura-chan." he offered, holding out the crumpled bag once more. If he was going to have to speak, he might as well try and get another kiss for his efforts. Sakura beamed and not only accepted his offer, but set aside her book before rising and coming to sit beside him. "Thanks, Menma." she beamed, making him turn a full shade of scarlet. "You are so thoughtful." 

That set the Uchiha off, he tossed his kunai aside and rose to his full height. "Why does she get the last cookie?" 

"I-I uh..."

"You don't have to explain yourself to him, Menma." Sakura told him firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder, making his soul leave his body a little. "Despite what he thinks, he's not the boss of you." 

"Oh, wow," Sasuke started to laugh, thoroughly pissed off now, but refusing to acknowledge her before she acknowledged him. "Real nice, Uzumaki, leaving me high and dry for a pretty face." 

"Sorry..." the blond began, feeling awful. 

"Don't apologize to him!" Sakura exclaimed. “Like he’s one to talk.” 

“Look, here’s a little free advice, Menma.” Sasuke went on regardless. “Cute as she is, she’s just going to chew you up and spit you out, there are a lot of way nicer girls around.” 

Menma felt Sakura’s hand squeeze his shoulder unintentionally and knew that comment had more than stung the kunoichi. He felt something foreign in his chest flare up all of sudden. 

“Sakura-chan is nice!” he told him, taking a tone with his friend he never had before. “She’s always nice to me!” 

“Only cause it serves a purpose.” Sasuke rolled his eyes, unsure how the kid could be so clueless. 

“Kami, you really are the most arrogant, hypocritical, egotistical, delusional fuck boy to ever grace the planet!” Sakura all but screamed at such an accusation. It was all she could do to not send a fist into his nose. 

“Ah, there she is!” Sasuke grinned triumphantly.  

Kakashi sighed, looking toward the heavens. It had been such a glorious hour and a half.  Perhaps he had summoned some sort of karma for foolishly hoping to finish his work before they both started back up again. 

“You’re such a horrid friend to him, do you know that?” she stood up and strode right up to the boy that loomed over her about a good seven inches. “You’re always telling him what to do and making him feel like he’s second best to you.”

“Yeah, well it’s better than you not even letting him speak up for himself.” he pointed out. “Stop trying to be everyone’s mother.” 

“Excuse me?” she asked, placing her hands on her hips. 

“Look, if you’re so concerned about Menma and his feelings, then why don’t stop using him as fuel to get to me?” 

“Oh, get over yourself, Sasuke!” 

“That’s enough!” Kakashi intervened. He considered himself an even-tempered man, but he could only take so much of the ongoing saga of Sasuke and Sakura. Honestly, he’d come to wish they’d get it over with and just fuck or do each other in. The older they got the more their bickering and sexual tension was getting out of hand. “Both of you, go blow off some steam, Sakura go North, Sasuke go South, I don’t want to see either of you back here until you can both be amiable comrades to one another and stop pulling Menma into the middle of your immature spats.” 

“But, Sensei…” 

“Now, Sakura!” He commanded, pointing his finger, making her huff as she grabbed her bag and leaped off. 

“Whatever.” Sasuke shrugged, turning and taking her leave as well, leaving the silver hair ninja with his remaining student. He ruffled his blond hair tiredly. “What are we going to do with them, huh, Menma?” 

“Don’t know, Sensei.” he shrugged. “They really hate each other, don’t they?” 

Kakashi’s mouth formed a line. “If only it were that simple.” 

…

Sakura knew it was stupid to think that Sasuke would, for once, listen to Kakashi and actually put some distance between them, but she would have liked at least a second to herself. 

“You’re really something else, you know that?” he asked coming up behind her. 

“Didn’t you hear Sensei? You’re supposed to go South.” she shot back heatedly, storming off faster, knowing it was pointless. If there was one thing she’d admit that Sasuke had on her it was speed. He was soon walking alongside her. 

“Who cares what he says?” he huffed. “I’m not done with you yet.” 

“Yeah, well I’m done with you.” she retorted. 

“No, you don’t get to call me out on leading your friend on, when you’re doing the same thing to Menma, and then call me a hypocrite,” he told her. “That’s not how it works.” 

She stopped abruptly and turned to face him. “I’m not leading him on.” 

His face went deadpan at that, before taking on a persona that she assumed was herself. 

“Oh, Menma-kun, I’d love a cookie!” he gushed as high as his deep voice would let him go. “You’re so sweet! You’re so thoughtful! I’m not just using you to get under Sasuke’s skin at all!”

She turned and kept walking at that, enraged that he would make such an accusation, and even more so because he was not completely wrong either. 

“Ever thought about how that will make Menma feel?” he asked. “You know how he feels about you.” 

“What are you talking about?” she stopped and turned around. 

“He’s in love with you!” Sasuke exclaimed as if she were an idiot. 

Sakura felt something snap like a twig somewhere inside her. “No, he’s not.” 

“Yes, he is.” Sasuke nodded reassuringly. 

“No, he’s not.” 

“Yes he is!” he nearly yelled in exasperation “Most men are! Have you seen yourself?” 

“...Kami” she whispered slowly, wishing the earth would just swallow her up right then and there. She hadn’t realized that Menma had a crush on her, let alone loved her. How could someone who spent so much time with her be in love with her? That was insane. 

She thought of all the times she had sent him attention just to spur Sasuke and never felt so low. While it was not often and never harmless, it was flirty and could have easily made him feel that she was interested in something more than friendship. She was no better than the Uchiha, 

“Yeah, it’s true, so stop playing with his feelings.” 

As guilty as she felt, she couldn’t bring herself to admit defeat to him, not three times in one day. She’d make things right with Menma, but Sasuke didn’t have to know that. “Maybe I’m not playing.” she shrugged coyly, turning and continuing on her way. 

“...what?” Sasuke muttered in confusion. 

“Maybe I’m in love with him too,” she suggested with raised palms. “I mean…” 

Sasuke was suddenly in front of her, making her almost walk head first into his broad chest. “You’re not in love with Menma,” he stated as if it were the most basic fact of life, like the rising and the setting of the sun. 

“Why not?” she asked with a raised brow, genuinely asking herself as much as she was asking him. Why hadn’t she ever thought of Menma as something more? “He’s handsome, considerate, sensitive and always good to me, why wouldn’t I be in love with him?” 

“Because you’re in love with me,” Sasuke told her just as simply. “That’s why.” 

She stared up at him, lips parting wordlessly at such a claim. Where there was a snap before now felt like she had been struck by a bolt of lightning. To her surprise, as well as his, she began to laugh. She laughed so hard she bent over, hugging herself around her middle. Sasuke remained stoic, emitting only a small smile when anyone else would have been more than wounded. 

“I’m not in love with you, Sasuke.” she told him when she straightened up and caught her breath. Where had the clueless bastard got that idea? He was just watching her with a knowing, adoring look in his eye, his hands tucked snuggly in his pockets. She tilted her head up so that she was looking directly into his eyes. “I hate you.” 

Honestly, what planet had he been living on? 

Suddenly he took her face gently into his hands and made her still, all mirth and smugness abandoning her. She stared up at him in shock, eyes wide and sparkling in the darkness as he kept her there, not two inches from his face. Blood rushed to her face so fast that it felt as if she were burning alive from the inside. Why was everything so quiet all of a sudden?

“What was that, Sakura?” he asked with an easy smile, seeing everything he needed to see, rolling her name around the way he knew drove her crazy. “I didn’t quite hear you.” 

“I-I said,” she breathed out shakily, wondering what the hell was wrong with her voice. It sounded so soft and unsure. Like it was someone else’s entirely. 

He had caught her off guard with this play. Nothing in her body was working like it was supposed to. Damn it! Why did he have to be so fucking beautiful? And tall? And sexy? 

It wasn’t fair. 

But, it didn’t prove anything, she assured herself. He was Sasuke. Everyone was attracted to him one way or another. That’s the only effect he had. Attraction wasn’t love. She wasn’t in love with him. In fact, this only made her more angry at him. If she could feel her hands she would have sent a fist straight into his perfect jawline. 

She swallowed thickly. “I said, I hate…”

Kami, was he going to kiss her?

She stiffened as she felt his thumb brush along her cheekbones as he loomed over her all the closer, his hot breath spilling over her face. 

“What?” he hummed softly. “Go on, say it.”

She stared at his lips, contemplative for a moment of what it would be like to kiss someone, but quickly remembered just who she was dealing with and snapped her gaze back to his dark eyes, so close now she could count his lashes. 

“I hate you.” she whispered, her eyes darkening, it was hard to breathe at this angle he held her. But, she did it. She got it out. 

She won. 

He smiled then, looking so pleased that for a moment she wondered if she had said the wrong thing. The opposite thing. 

He leaned forward ever so slightly, hands slipping down to her neck, and she nearly jumped out of her skin, but his lips took an alternate route gently and brushed over the hollow of her cheek, the same place she had bestowed a kiss to Menma for his sweets. 

He pulled back and she watched him, flushed and frustrated by his brash action and by the burning in her face centering around the focal point where he had touched her.

“You too, Sakura-chan.” he told her with a wink before turning and going on his way, leaving her alone like she wanted.

[searchingforstarss]

irondad prompt: accidental poisoning, peter whump? pleeease? love your writing! hope you enjoy your time away!

hi lovely anon!! this took me a little longer to do because it kind of got away from me and turned out a lot longer than i was thinking! i hope you like it because it’s not as whumpy as i originally intended but as soon as i saw accidental poisoning i couldn’t get this idea out of my head so here you go. i hope you enjoy :)) x

---

Morgan’s gleeful yells are the first thing Peter’s greeted to when he arrives at the lake house on a Friday afternoon.

“Peter’s here! Peter’s here! I can hear him!”

The six-year-old barrels through the living room and out onto the front porch, excitement practically radiating off her in waves.

No matter how many times they try to explain to her that it simply isn’t feasible for Peter to stay with them any more than two nights a week because he has school in the city, she whines about how long he’s been away whenever he arrives, without fail. Today is no different.

“You’re not allowed to stay away for that long anymore, I miss you too much,” she declares. “Daddy can’t do the right voices when he reads Harry Potter to me either. You’re wayy better.”

Petter grins broadly down at her, about to open his mouth to greet her properly, ask about her week at school and whether she learnt how to do fraction multiplication like she had excitedly told him that she was going to during their Wednesday night phone call. He can’t even get a word in edgeways though because before he can, Morgan is babbling on again in her same gleeful tone that Peter adores.

“I have a surprise for you!” she announces proudly, tugging him up the creaky porch steps with her smaller hand tucked inside his.

“Whoa, that’s cool. What is it?” Peter asks. He tries to hide the apprehension from his tone, because Morgan’s surprises always swing one of two ways.

He’ll either end up trying to pretend he isn’t choking up when she presents him with a hand drawn-picture and note or craft project that she made at school during their art hour. Or, he’ll end up as a victim to one of her latest ideas, experiments and schemes. Last week it was her determination to teach Peter how to roller-skate on the cul-de-sac a few blocks over, which ended in Morgan clumsily pressing an excess number of band-aids onto his scraped knees. The month before he ended up as a human canvas to entertain her desire to learn how to face paint (that was all-around just as much of a disaster as it sounds like it would be).

“You can’t know what it is, silly!” Morgan sing-songs, “you’ll ruin the surprise.”

“Silly me, of course,” Peter deadpans, but he’s ignored as she tugs him through to the kitchen as soon as he’s dumped his backpack on the couch.

“Surprise!” she exclaims as soon as they’re both in the room. She guestures excitedly towards a few slightly sad looking lumps of something drenched in icing and severed onto sticks. There are sprinkles as well, which look like they might have been a nice touch to cheer the entire thing up, had the majority of them not ended up scattered around the surrounding bench space.

“Daddy and I made cookie pops! Well, I made them, he just helped me use the big scary whisk-y thingy. They’re for Katie’s birthday party tomorrow because we all have to bring something yummy to eat, and Daddy wanted to do regular cookies but I told him that was boring. So we made these instead!”

“They look great, well done you guys,” Peter praises. Secretly, he’s almost certain that Tony was onto something with his suggestion. Cookies would have definitely been the safer option.

“I want you to try one! I saved the first one for you because I’m the best sister in the whole wide world.”

Peter eyes the pink ball of cookie dough being waved in his face dubiously, but Morgan’s creations often look worse than they actually are so he bites the bullet and accepts the treat that she’s thrusting towards him.

He takes a bite, partly because he’s being watched expectantly by large brown eyes and partly because he’s absolutely starving. He’s had a long day. Decathlon practice in the morning, AP classes back to back all afternoon and then the drive up here. Plus, he really wasn’t planning on Spider-Manning today, but there was a gas station robbery on the side of Interstate 87 that he pulled over to break up on his way because the man was threatening the poor guy behind the counter with a gun for a raspberry slushie, a hot dog and two packets of cigarettes and Peter had to intervene because that was just stupid on so, so many levels.

The shopkeeper gave him a free hot dog in return which he gladly scarfed down before he disappeared back out to his car, but that’s all he’s eaten since lunch. So as he chews Morgan’s baked concoction, he figures that the cookie dough is crumbly, sure, and maybe they went a little heavy with the icing sugar in the icing but Peter is so hungry that he thinks anything would probably taste good to him at this point.

Footsteps thud down the stairs, and Peter hears Tony’s voice before he sees him.

“Morgan, I swear if you’re force-feeding Peter. Your dear old brother doesn’t want any of our atrocious attempt at baking-“

Tony rounds the corner, eyes falling on Peter, mouth full of icing and cookie dough.

“Oh, I’m too late. Great.”

“Hey, Tony.”

“Hiya, Pete. Enjoying your snack?”

Peter carries on chewing on the food his mouth. “Mhmm. Definitely. Good job you guys.”

Tony shakes his head. “Nuh-uh, not a good job, not at all. I just got off the phone with Pepper, turns out you actually have to partially bake the cookie dough first. It honestly just seems like a lot of extra work if you ask me, but she’s the boss.”

“You’re starting again?” Peter asks.

“Yep, and since you’re here you can actually make yourself useful,” Tony snarks but there’s a fond smile on his face. Peter nods willingly. “Don’t just stand there then, kid. Grab the flour from the cupboard would you?”

Peter grins and turns to grab the flour like Tony requested. He doesn’t even have to think about it anymore, he knows exactly which shelf to reach for with the same sort of instinct that he has in his and May’s apartment.

(Even with all three of their hands on deck, the second round of cookie pops only end up looking mildly more appetizing than the first, but at least all of Morgan’s tiny friends won’t have uncooked, crumbly cookie dough forced on them so Tony claims it as a win - he’s never had the patience to deal with other kids’ whining parents anyway.)

---

Peter sleeps in the next morning, and the house is silent when he wakes. The first thing he notices is the way he’s shivering, even in the balmy morning sun streaming through his windows. There’s nausea as well, constantly threatening to make its way up his throat as it sits at the bottom of his stomach, churning and rolling uncomfortably,

The second thing he notices is a note sitting on his bedside table as he fumbles out one arm to grab his phone and check the time. Peter recognises Tony’s scrawl immediately.

Morning, sleepyhead. Gone to drop Morgan off to her party. Be home soon. T

He’s content to lie there for a while and wallow in his own misery and how dreadful he feels while he’s all alone in the house until his stomach lurches violently and he’s hauling himself out of bed, sweaty covers pooling around his feet. The room around him is spinning, but the singular thought occupying his hazy mind is get to the bathroom, Parker. Just make it to the damn bathroom.

He does, even though his legs are shaky underneath him, and he just manages to stumble through the open doorway of the bathroom and drop to his knees in front of the toilet. He doesn’t even register the pain that shoots through his knees and up his legs as he slams into the tile.

A charming mix of gas station hot dog, Morgan and Tony’s tragic attempt at a cookie pop and the lasagna Tony made for dinner last night ends up swimming at the bottom of the toilet bowl.

Gross.

“Peter?”

That’s his name. It sounds like it’s coming from somewhere down near his bedroom. He tries to call back, but acid coats his raw throat and he can’t seem to get the words out. He retches again, before dipping forward to lean up against the ceramic of the toilet.

“Peter, oh, there you are-” Tony begins, but he drops off as Peter sees him appear around the corner of the bathroom door and take in the scene in front of him. “What’s going on?”

He blinks up at Tony through cloudy eyes.

“Think ‘m sick.”

“I thought you couldn’t even get sick?”

Peter tries to give a coherent answer, he thinks, but all that comes out is a whine. He looks up at Tony, eyes pleading. He’s not sure what he’s asking for, really. He just wants someone to make it better.

“Okay, okay, got it. That’s not really the point right now.”

Peter isn’t quite sure what he’s expecting as Tony hovers around the doorway. He wants comfort, he wants Tony, but he doesn’t dare to move far from the toilet.

“Oh, shit. Kid, you actually ate that garbage attempt of baking that Morgan gave you yesterday, didn’t you? There was raw egg in that.”

Peter just nods feebly, not entirely listening. His head is head still resting on the toilet seat. He doesn’t have the energy to lift it.

“I hate to break it to you, kid, but maybe Spidey is just as susceptible to food poisoning as the rest of us.”

Peter’s certainly listening now, his glazed eyes shooting open. Weak displeasure simmers within them.

“You poisoned me?”

Morgan’s surprise has now definitely landed on the bad side this week, leaning towards absolutely-fucking-awful.

“Technically, Morgan poisoned you. I just operated all the heavy machinery,” Tony says. Peter glares at him, but it’s so pathetic that Tony’s own stomach clenches in sympathy.

“You’re the adult-” Peter points out, feeble indignation in his voice before he cuts himself off with another round of heaving.

“Oh, Pete,” Tony sighs, stepping further into the bathroom at the sight. He lowers himself to the floor right next to Peter. A warm hand finds his back, rubbing in slow circles right at the base. A fraction of the tension leaves Peter’s body.

“You’re alright, bud” Tony soothes. His voice is gentle and calming, and Peter lets it wash over him. He’s always loved just listening to Tony talk. “You’ll feel so much better once it’s all back up.”

Peter finds that hard to believe because caught right in the throes of pain, shivering and feeling like a total and utter mess, he struggles to remember a time when he wasn’t wholly consumed by Morgan’s attempt to poison him.

There’s nothing left for Peter to bring up eventually, and he’s left gasping for air.

“Think you’re done?”

Peter nods, stomach still clenching painfully. He shoves himself away from the toilet, legs giving way underneath him as he slumps into a pile of shaky, sweaty limbs against the bathroom counter. This doesn’t seem to faze Tony though, and Peter watches through bleary eyes as he goes into Dad Mode. It all fades in and out in front of him, but he registers the corners of his mouth being wipes gently with a warm washcloth, the hair being brushes back from his sweaty forehead, a cool glass of water being tipped down his throat.

It was because of moments like this that after the snap, it took Peter a while to correlate his Tony with Morgan’s Tony.

His Tony had only ever cared from afar and he usually shied away from physical affection and comfort unless either of them were on their deathbeds. They always loved each other, but it was sort of a given. An undeniable fact with little physical expression. Now though? Morgan’s Tony tucks her into bed at night and smoothes kisses into her hair and lets her curl into his lap during lazy evenings on the couch with absolutely no reservations or qualms. He tells her he loves her at least five times a day.

It then took Peter even longer to realise that Morgan’s Tony wasn’t exclusively hers. He’s just Tony, softened around the edges a little with parenthood and settling down, but he’s Peter’s as well, still.

That’s evident in the way that instead of leaving Peter to his own devices once he’s taken care of him and cleaned up his mess, Tony just leads him gently downstairs instead, a warm solid hand wrapped around his forearm to make sure he doesn’t stumble forward and end up on his face.

Tony lies him down on the couch, before taking a seat himself. He lets Peter pillow himself against him, head buried into the soft cotton of his t-shirt. Tony’s hands trail along their time-worn path in Peter’s hair, the action almost second nature.

“I’m never eating anything you make me ever again, I swear,” Peter mumbles into Tony’s chest. His words are quiet, scraping against the rawness of his throat but Tony hears him loud and clear. He chuckles.

“Fair enough, buddy.”

---

Peter’s nap is only interrupted when Morgan bursts into the room sometime in the afternoon. He blinks slowly from where he’s resting against Tony’s chest, head tucked up against his collarbone.

Morgan has a goody bag clutched in her grip and a few flyaway pink streamers caught in her hair. She beelines for the couch.

“Petey, Mommy said that I need to apologise for poisoning you!”

Peter feels a deep rumble in Tony’s chest as he attempts to stifle a laugh. He can’t quite muster up the energy (and he’s far too comfortable anyway) to get up from his position resting against Tony to hug Morgan, so he just gives her the warmest smile he can manage.

“It’s okay, bug, I know you didn’t mean to. I forgive you.”

She beams up at him. “There was one cookie pop left so I saved it for you, see?” she says, rattling her goody bag around, which Peter presumes contains the cursed treat. “They’re really good, I promise!”

Peter’s stomach churns again at the thought.

“That’s really nice of you, Mo, but I think I might give cookies a miss for a while.”

[chyrstis]

Together

Another fic was inevitable for these three, but this time around it’s very much on the soft side of things. Now to figure out a formal series tag...

Follows the other two fics linked here that set the stage for this: [X] [X]

Pairing: Sharky Boshaw/F!Dep/John Seed Rating: T Word Count: 2.2K (much shorter this time!)

Link to AO3!

___

She doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to this. Of these nights, and the company she’s able to keep.

______________

“Hey.”

Hana ran her fingers through John’s hair, making him hum against her.

“John.”

“…Yes?” he replied, his voice heavy with sleep.

“Why am I the only one actually watching this right now?”

It wasn’t meant to sound like a protest, but after an hour – and she’d been paying close attention once restarting it from the beginning, dammit – she was the only person left tuning in. Awake and invested, and wondering why the hell the lead hadn’t bothered to say yes yet.

The irony of her thinking that hadn’t been lost on her at all, not with John’s recommendation to boot.

But that didn’t mean she had to admit it to him.

“I’ve seen this plenty of times before.” John’s eyes remained closed as he shifted, rubbing his cheek against her. “You haven’t, and Charlemagne is being Charlemagne.”

She looked to her left, taking in the sight of Sharky face-down in his pillow. Snoring softly, he was out like a light, and had been for who knows how long now. Every now and then he’d try and use the arm slung across her to tug her closer, his hand sliding across her stomach as he flexed his fingers, only for it to return back to where it started.

Hana placed her hand over his, and grinned when Sharky mumbled something under his breath. Nothing she could actually make out, but the low rumble of his voice was always a welcome sound.

“We did wear him out.”

John chuckled. “Fair.”

“Though he’s not the one borrowing me as a pillow right now.”

“Also, fair.”

Earlier John had leaned on his arm while watching the movie with her, answering her questions – even if the more absurd ones only received an unamused look – and eventually took to fielding them all while keeping his head tucked into the crook of her neck. With her arm wrapped around him, he’d relaxed against her, his voice growing raspier with each word all while somehow still answering her coherently.

John moved in her arms, and pressed a kiss to her neck. “But you only have two, and seeing as they’re both spoken for, I decided this was the next best thing.”

“Me, huh?”

“Yes, you.” His mouth went to her collarbone, kissing her before resting his cheek against her chest again. “Is that a problem?”

Touching her softly, the contentment he gave off left her without words for a solid minute. Curled up with them, half-asleep as she felt every deep breath run through him, she didn’t think she’d ever get used to the sight.

And yet, here she was. Laying here, knowing full well that this wasn’t some impossible thing.

Not anymore.

“Shit,” Hana muttered, coming back to herself. “Guess I need to figure out how to requisition a pillow now.”

John glanced up at her, confusion crossing his face, and she tilted her head towards him.

“They’ll let me do that, right? So, we’ll have three on hand no matter what? I mean, this can count as a ‘three-person unit’ to give me some wiggle-room. Even if you don’t stay the night, you’re here enough.”

Saying nothing, he kept his eyes set on her as she started idly twirling her hair around her finger. That helped her nerves a bit, but not enough to keep her from chewing on her lip as she thought it over.

“Or should I go the extra distance and just spit it out? Say it’s for someone near and dear to my heart, but a little rich in their tastes? Someone used to the finer ways of living that would prefer anything to a half-covered slab of a bed and some scratchy sheets-“

He cut her off, cupping her face as he leaned in to kiss her. It was a hard press, one that made her eyes slip shut as she tried to drag him closer, wanting to feel his full weight on top of her.

But John remained by her side, not pushing this to go its usual route as he gently held her there, his hand sliding to her chin as he withdrew.

“See?” he said, his voice rough. “I clearly made the right choice.”

“Seriously? I did say anything.” 

“…True.” A small kiss followed, lingering as she tried to chase him. “But I believe you’re selling yourself short. Thinking you’re only a few steps above a ratty sheet.”

“I said scratchy, not ratty.” The comment slipped out before she could stop it. Even in the face of how he was looking at her, she couldn’t resist.

“Which still implies the very same thing.”

Coming in close for another kiss, she tilted her head away just when he reached her. “Neither of which are very nice, darlin’.”

Sharky yawned next to her. “Yeah, what she said.”

Doing a double-take, she fell back against the bed, glad that that little jolt didn’t result in her smacking John in the face. She liked his nose, and accidentally breaking it was not the right way to show her appreciation.

“Jesus, Shark. You doing okay over there? I was hoping we wouldn’t wake you.”

Sharky rubbed his eyes before turning a bleary look onto them. “Eh, it’s alright. Just had to get in some quick shut-eye first, but now I’m missing shit and I don’t like that one bit. …What’s this about rats?”

Hana’s grin fell. “Nothing.”

“Nothing at all,” John replied, his voice tight.

That left Sharky frowning as he looked between them. “Yeah, sounds like nothing. You’re poking at each other over something there.”

She didn’t know which was worse, the rueful look she caught in John’s eyes, or that he was set on staring straight at the wall instead of her. Swallowing against the dryness in her mouth, she ignored the itch of the letters etched across her chest and let it slide.

“It’s just pillow talk, hon. Silly, literal pillow talk, as in we’re short one, so apparently that means I’ll have to do as a substitute.”

Taking in a good long look at them, Sharky idly rubbed at his face for a few seconds until what she said finally clicked. “Shit, why didn’t you say so?” He pulled his pillow out from under him and tossed it at John. “Here.”

It flew over him, plopping onto the bed, and John glanced over his shoulder at it. “And?”

“I don’t need it. This one’s always been a better pick, anyway.”

Hana barely lifted her other arm up in time before Sharky settled in, taking up a spot on her as well. While John was warm, he was a furnace, heating her all over as he wound an arm around her midsection. On a cold night this would’ve been a dream, but ten minutes of this here and she’d need to lose the sheet completely.

“God,” she said, wishing she could tug at the fabric, “you’re way too hot for your own good.”

That got a grin. “Real sweet of you to say that, babe.”

“But there’s also not a lot of space to spare, so…”

Mildly annoyed at the loss as well, John didn’t give a single inch. “Agreed.”

“So scoot over, or don’t. If you think I won’t hug the hell out of you, you’re gonna be disappointed. Cause I’m big on that.”  His hand drifted up her side, tickling her as he moved it to slide his palm down John’s arm. “Real good at it too.”

Hana ran her hand down Sharky’s back, lightly tracing her nails over his skin. “I can vouch for that, and then some."

“See? You heard the lady. Top notch shit right here.” Giving him a light squeeze, Sharky followed it up with a wink. “Or I don’t know, your money back. ‘Less you want that in writing or something. Since you’re a lawyer and all that.”

The dirty look John had thrown at him grew sly. “Oh? I believe spoken agreements carry their own weight.”

“But I can’t light that shit on fire, so…you wanna tie me up? In red tape, yellow, whatever, fucking go for it, man. Might even end up liking it.”

“And here you wouldn’t even have to beg him to talk dirty to you. Legal jargon done right’s hot enough on its own, and we both know he's had plenty of practice.” Her grin was wicked now, and John’s glare only fueled it further. “Say, you want to team up on this?”

Ruffling Sharky’s hair, he leaned into every bit of her touch as a sleepy grin slid onto his face. “And hug it out?”

This time she didn’t bother being coy. Not in her tone, or in her gaze. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

"Two to one’s hardly fair, and you both know it," John scoffed, but didn’t make a move to get up or leave. No, there was a challenge to him now, teasing and tempting her in one, much like his deepening voice. “In fact, I’d say you’re counting on it.”

“Guess you’d better prep for it then. Cause you’re getting some of this soon as I can drag my ass over there,” Sharky said, only to have his words end in a yawn. “Yeah, you’re getting a full dose of this shit.”

Hana canted her head towards John. “From both of us, I hope you understand.”

“And would that be a threat, or a promise?”

“Hey,” Hana said, feigning hurt, “you know who you’re talking to, right? An officer of the law for one, and…”

“Former,” John said, interjecting. “With as sterling a reputation as one would expect a person befitting the role to have.”

For a flash, she nearly gave him the finger. Then dropped it, and her faint pout, in favor of holding her head high and proud. Not easy at all from her place on the bed, and the angle, but she tried. 

“Damn straight. But I still get in plenty of ‘Deputy-ing’ down here, which I think qualifies.” She punctuated the statement with a small poke to the tip of John’s nose instead, and couldn’t help but giggle at the reaction that earned. “Mr. former lawyer.”

“Very well, officer. And what would we call dear Charlemagne here?”

Dear, huh? That was new, and might've made her smile more at the sound of it. 

“Well, he refused to let me deputize him. One, I don’t think I could’ve officially done it, but two, he claimed it’d ruin the whole outlaw thing he had going on. The whole roguish danger aspect.”

“Chicks get real hot over it. You say you’re on the run from the fuzz, looking to hide out anywhere and everywhere, and the clothes fly right off.”

Sharky’s hand moved over her, whisking the imaginary items off towards the back of the room. John’s eyes followed the motion as well, only to settle right back on her with his eyebrow raised.

Hana shrugged.  “What? It’s hard to beat that kind of sex appeal. Lord knows I was struggling.”

“And seeing as I was doing the community a service, that netted me some serious local hero points. ...The whole helping bit, not the uh, clothes coming off quick part.”

“Which for some reason 'helping' was fine, while the whole lawman schtick wasn’t-“

“'Cause that kinda shit’s the thing that gets movies made about you. Books too, I guess, but they don’t put together fancy light shows for that, and that still ain’t as good a time as rigging and setting off flashbangs on a movie set. But say they would've called, wanting to get some of this on camera back before,” he said, gesturing between them. “They would've had to hire H and I on to make sure facts were straight, sharing some firsthand accounts of kicking ass and taking names, 'cause that's just how we roll. And it's so badass they'd throw a parade for us too, feeling so grateful they'd have to name three roads after us, or maybe a-

 “…And with that,” John began, his tone flat, “I think the conversation’s successfully been derailed.”

Blinking for a few seconds, Hana shut her mouth and thought back through the last five minutes. Swearing under her breath, she winced. He would have a point here, wouldn’t he?

“Damn tangent. Anyway-”

“Was that a threat, or a promise?” John asked, set directly on her.

There it was. The thread she’d lost, or better put, danced around. The corner of her mouth curved up as she met his stare.   “Well, by now isn’t it obvious?”

Walking her fingers up his shoulder, she draped her arm around his neck. When she didn’t pull him in closer, John slowly shook his head, even as his eyes told her otherwise.

“No? Still, not convinced?” Hana asked, batting her eyes at him.

“Not at all.”

Sharky slung an arm around John opposite her own, and leaned in close. “Lucky for you amigo, we’ve got that sorted for you.”

Almost nose to cheek with him, all John would’ve had to do to kiss him was turn his head, and Sharky didn’t hold back any of his growing grin. Especially not when John did turn, brushing his lips against his.

"And now?"

It was subtle at first, but the slow smile that curved across his face she wouldn't have missed for the world. “…A promise it is, then.”

[onepunchmiss]

OPM s2e6 Live Blog

“The Monster Uprising”

Sorry this is later than usual. I’ve been having some personal issues lately that have been rather time consuming. But anyway yall ain’t here for that! So let’s get on with the episode. As always, I’m watching from the perspective of someone who has read both the manga and web comic

Once again, picking up right where we left off! Suiryu finally makes his fighting debut. He’s been introduced like what, 3 episodes ago? But honestly idgaf about him nearly as much as

MAX MY BOI I KNOW HOW THIS ENDS FOR YOU BUT I’M ROUTING FOR YOU ANYWAY. Oh god I gotta say, I forgot Suirya has a couple nightmare faces yikes. Also, I love how the Sea King keeps having an impact on heroes so long after his defeat. First Prisoner during the alien invasion, then Max and I know in just a bit Snek too. What a villain. Jeez, the mildly ominous music really isn’t subtle about making Suiryu out to be antagonistic, yeah? Also, this is the most we’ve heard him talk so far- Suiryu’s voice is exactly what I imagined I love it. MAX NO ITS OK I LOVE YOU ANYWAY AND SUIRYU IS A DICK ITS FINE YOU DID GREAT

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh this is the sixth episode this season and i STILL pause every time Zombieman is in the intro. Even his tiny silhouette at the end. just

NGAH BEST ONE YET MY BBY GIRL

Ok ok back to the action. Genos makes a good point and I wonder that, too. Saitama broke his limiter through sheer willpower right, like thats crazy but also not THAT crazy. Is he REALLY the only person EVER to have done that thus far (aside from probably blast)? Thankfully no monster ever has otherwise we’d surely know about it. Is Saitama really just THAT insane? Its not even like he had an extreme desire his whole life, he just beat some crab guy and snapped one day? OH OH GENO’S PHONE OS RINGING MONSTERS! MONSTER! MO N S T ER S ! aw wait no go to the monsters hey

OH WAIT NEVERMIND THIS IS OK SNEK SNEK S N E K OK I actually really like him?? He’s like they show’s resident butt-monkey but also just a good guy.

OH HEY THAATS DIFFERENT!?!? Wow ok so in the manga, it just happened by chance that the cheering in the stadium was so loud that no one heard the monster evacuation alarms, but here they’re setting up Bakuzan preemptively as an asshole who actively disregarded the alarm and everyone’s safety (although he kinda has a point?). Because the way he acts later on is clearly not evil enough already? I feel like that’s unnecessary but it doesn’t add or detract from anything really so whatever I guess?

FUCKIN KEK DAVE. Top tier humor ffs the random mundane name joke will never get old fite me ooh Oh good god OK Choze’s face is also terrifying oh no. Dude you don’t need a monster cell you ALREADY LOOK LIKE ONE but OK

YASSS GENOS SLAY YAAASSSSS He finally wins a few rounds WITHOUT losing any limbs! IM JUST! SO EXCITED TO SEE HIM FIGHTING YASSS WAIT NO GO BACK HEKK so much jumping around is making this more difficult to maintain any semblance of coherency asdfghjk

HAH you know what? When I was rereading the manga and came across face ripper, I thought to myself he looks like he would be some tan/ olive/ pale purple color or something so I bet the anime will be like HAHA RED BITCH. and looky here. I’m catching on finally. hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Genos my boy my son you are such a bad ass and I love you hhhhhhhhhhhhhh HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH AAAAAAAAAAA AWAKENED COCKROACH AWAKENED COCKROACH ALREADY FUCK THIS EPISODE IS HAPPENING FASTER THAN I ANTICIPATED HECK HECK THERE GOES MY HEART RATE I THOUGHT I WAS PREPARED ALAS I AM BUT A FO O L

HAH I think this is anime-only too?? I dont remember it Why is this so funny what the fuck?? “Dark Hell Killing” Juijitsu omg calm down you absolute edgelord literally half of that name would have been sufficient.

FFFFFFFFFF The slowly building intense music just cut off like- I was so distracted by Bakuzam’s freaky murder face i forgot this happened DAMNIT SAITAMA i NEED my LUNGS to BREATH but no i LAFF and then the silence in the stadium turns to TRIUMPHANT MUSIC as if that was some valiant victory and THAT SOUR FACE FACE FUCK IM DEAD ITS TOO GOOD IM DEAD

Aw Tareo Sweetheart its ok noooooo also side note don’t they also mention Metal Bat is hospitalized? Hey! HEY! TALK ABOUT MY OTHER SON WE DONT EVEN SEE HIM FOREVER HEY oh oh I spoke too soon my b my b

Well shit it’s Shiny vs Shiny jeezus. I don’t have a particular issue with the coloring of Genos’ arms and such but this is just very noticable- Roach could’ve done without the SHINE. Eyyyy a complimentary Sonic for all yall SOS fans out there HAH “No matter it’s still fatal” r u sure about that child r u sure

AAHHH THE WIFE AGAINNNN yo I have A Lot Of Thoughts ™ about the females in OPM that I think I’ll make a separate post about because of the inevitable backlash of Super-S’ design.

OH FUCK COOL SHOT COOL COOL OH FUCK THAT WAS COOL TOO OUT OF NO WHERE hey wait was that supposed to be the Hell Storm attack? WHAT REALLY. AW MAN I was getting hyped about how that would look cmon

Super-S with messed up hair is perfection just saying

Also, Tatsumaki is the definition of Yandere and its terrifying jeez.

Terrifying, but also this. HEK

Aw snekm nooooo I BELIEVE IN YOU OK HES A DICK DONT LISTEN TO HIM YOU JUST WAIT A FEW EPISODES SWEETHEART THEN YOULL SEE

Oh weird dude seeing the Madhouse animation in the middle of season 2 is weird  not jarring which is good because at least to me that means JC staff is keeping up well enough but still weirdddd

“Everything about you disgusts me” me too snek DONT LISTEN TO HIM HES A DICK

((((((((((((((((((((ew amai mask go away)))))))))))))))))))))

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I SCREAM FOR THE FIRST TIME OUT LOUD I WAS HONESTLY DOUBTING HED BE SHOWN CAUSE THEY SKIPPED SOME OTHER MONSTERS BEFORE BUT THERE HE IS NYAN NYANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

OOF OUCH I FELT THAT KICK THE IMPACT IN MY BONES

ok post credits scene i have an idea of what it might be and I’m shaking in my seat but hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

HECK HECK HECK HECK HECK HECK HECK HECK HECK HECK HECK HECK HECK HECK HECK HECK HECK HECK HECK

yoooooooooooooooooooooo I WAS NOT IMAGINING GYOROS VOICE LIKE THAT HONESTLY I WAS READING IN ALL IN URSULA’S VOICE LIKE FROM THE LITTLE MERMAID BUT OK THIS IS GOOD OH FUCK GOUKETSU OH HECK OK HEY AT LEAST HES NOT RAINBOW COLORED BUT HECK OH GENOS NO

OH HEY BITCH YOU DIDNT DO SHIT AGAINST METAL BAT YOU GOT LUCKY HE DOESNT COUNT

THERE IS LITERALLY NO AVOIDING IT NOW NEXT WEEK CHILD EMPEROR MY DEAR AND DRIVE KNIGHT AT THE VERY LEAST LIKE THIS IS LITERALLY CONFIRMED AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Good Episode GOOD EPISODE OK so my least favorite thing easily was the cop-out on Fubuki’s Hell Storm attack but otherwise my favorite thing was??? I dont know?? Like this episode was a lot of build up for next week’s episode but also so much happened anyway?? I loved seeing Genos in action and also BDSM Wife AND OROCHI AND GYORO and also also I know a lot of people have an issue with the existence of the tournament thing in general but I don’t mind it because its hilarious honestly and all of the happenings otherwise feel well balanced enough sooooooooo yeah I’m SO PUMPED for next week like bring me THE S CLASS BRING ME BRING 

[gcrifin]

     It had been some time since someone gazed upon her with such fascination. Such bestial details were often feared or frowned upon in times past. No matter the glory of the mythical creature, a mix of the ever-fabled kings of birds and beasts, there was hardly a time in which it was revered. People looked upon any of those forms with a flighty urge. Those that did not wish to flee stood with malice in their eyes and blades at the ready. Be it at times Lulubelle feared they would thrust them unto her body without hesitation. To be greeted with such open arms in such a cold world was something ever so heartfelt. For a moment it is as though, perhaps, she is truly beautiful .

     Along with such realizations is the joyous exclamation of the younger woman, paying her compliment after compliment in both actions and words. A warm, relaxed smile as though to steady her touched heart, ❝ How kind of you to say so. I ── ❞

     Thought ceased with the sound of flipping pages and the rush of the other’s figure up to her side, the rattling of questions beginning and seeming never to end. Though a pleasant expression she keeps, it melts into something sheepish and humbling as that sudden rush of energy catches up. A fold of wings to her form, almost encapsulating the underlying timorous feeling brought about by the countless inquiries. Keen senses define each and every one into coherency and echo it about in memory. Many others would find it difficult if not impossible to decipher that long run-on string of curiosities but somehow, with a bit of luck and enhanced hearing, Lulu begins to process it all .

      ❝ My, such excitement... ❞ a soft chuckle. It is lighthearted and mildly impressed by the length at which she had continued. ❝ Let me see if I can answer all of your questions . ❞ 

     A quick clear of the throat as she mentally begins to skim the list, ❝ My wingspan varies depending on my form, as does my flight speed. I fly much faster in this human form. My current record is eighty-four miles per hour. There is a balance between gliding and flying, it is a matter of if you wish to ascend, descend, or keep a steadied pace. The wind plays a big role in that as well. My wings are properly structured and I have no problem flying with them in any form. I’ve been told my eyesight is very reminiscent to the detail of an eagle’s. I have grown used to my shifting, though at one point the change was quite disorienting and returning to my human form often left me with shoulder and back pain. It was rather uncomfortable. I am hot-natured and my feathers only define that, so heat can be rather draining. The gusts from my wings are rather relieving in that case. I much prefer the cold as it’s easier for me to tolerate and remedy, but mild weather is my favorite. I’ve adopted the habit of straightening myself often, patting down my clothes and the like. Sometimes I am a bit too personable and like to comb through hair. I believe it stems from an avian’s instinct to preen. My physical strength in my beast form is quite formidable. I can whip up whirlwinds with my wings and carry many people with ease. My senses improve drastically as well, among other things. Lastly, of course, I do enjoy meat. However I have a much bigger craving for fish. I must admit I do rather like shrimp . ❞

    Slowly Lulubelle breathes, attempting to give herself a moment to do so while the other supposedly takes notes on all her answers. It was a very strange thing, being the center of one’s attention. Yet somehow the griffin hadn’t minded it. A slight tilt of the head follow, smile still ever present through the entirety of her personal spiel. ❝ Is there anything else you wish to know ? ❞ // : @icycoldavatarstate continued { ♕ }

[rainesclan]

[Part Four]: Over My Head

Link to: [Series Masterpost], [Part One], [Part Two], [Part Three]

A/N: I  know I’ve said this at least seventy-two times but I really can’t thank y’all who are reading this enough! I’ve never been super confident in my writing so seeing y’all say you’re enjoying this cracked little fic melts my icy heart :’)  * as always, there should be a ‘read more’, but this will be tagged as ‘long post’ incase it isn’t working!

Series Tag List (feel free to ask to be added!): @nathansterling @j-ashtons @nathan-sterling @nevrakissed @sterlingbitch @nathansblazer @ash-beaumont @guilty-giggler

Description: Cariedee hears an interesting bit of conversation when she wakes up at the Alpha Theta Mu clubhouse and talks to Nathan about where they stand.

Words: 2,012

____

Even behind closed eyelids, the sunlight on her face felt blinding, and Cariedee rolled over with an exasperated groan once she was fully aware that she was awake. Her tight jeans from the night before somehow felt even less comfortable after having been slept in for hours, and her fingers caught on a matted tangle in her short blonde curls when she attempted to push her hair away from her eyes. It didn’t take long for a dull throb to start a steady rhythm in her temples, and she slowly peeled her eyes open to find herself tucked into an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room.

If it wasn’t for the Greek letters hanging on the wall above her, she was sure she would have had no real idea as to where she was, but after seeing them, it didn’t take her long to figure out that she must have been back at the Alpha’s clubhouse.

And that somewhere between kissing Nathan and ending up asleep at the house, there were at least a few hours that were completely blank.

Oh God...yeah, she thought to herself. I definitely kissed Nathan last night.

She was suddenly glad she was alone so that no one was there to witness the look of mortification that she was sure was showing on her face. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Nathan – if anything, she liked him a lot – but she barely knew him. The last thing she wanted to do was make the same mistake that she had with Chris only a couple weeks prior.

After taking a few minutes to collect herself she willed herself to stand up and shamble over to the closed bedroom door. She cracked it open in an attempt to stay as quiet as possible in case there were still people sleeping, stopping and letting her hand linger on the doorhinge when she caught the sound of two slightly muffled voices from the next room over.

“-and he just leaves it when he goes home for the weekend. Talk about being a little too trusting,” the voice that she recognized as Beau’s paused briefly after the statement. “This thing is like a goldmine of potential.”

“And what exactly are you planning on doing with this goldmine?” Kassidy’s voice inquired.

“Not sure yet. But it’ll be hilarious,” he clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth, and Cariedee could hear the unmistakable clacking of fingers tapping on laptop keys. “I’m talking America’s Most Eligible Season Three levels of entertainment.”

“Oh God, don’t tell me you actually watch that garbage. You know it’s all staged right?”

“What? Kassidy. Kassidy. America’s Most Eligible is not staged.”

The conversation that had initially caught Cariedee’s attention seemed to fall to the wayside as Beau and Kassidy pivoted into a debate over the authenticity of reality television, and she took another few seconds to linger by the door and collect her thoughts. She admittedly had no idea what they had been talking about, but it didn’t stop a slight feeling of unease from settling in the pit of her stomach. Whatever it was didn’t exactly sound friendly, and with Becca’s warning still lingering in the back of her mind, she had to wonder if they were up to no good.

Without putting any more merit into the mildly intrusive thoughts, she left the room and closed the door behind her before heading downstairs and finding Nathan in the kitchen. The table was littered with used plates, half empty water bottles, and an open bottle of Tylenol, and he was wiping the counter down with a sponge when he seemed to hear her behind him.

“There you are. I was starting to worry,” he said, turning to look at her with a chuckle. “I’ll be honest, not many people can go shot for shot with Beau and live to tell the tale.”

“So that’s what happened?” She inquired, rubbing her temples as she took a seat at the table. “Judging by how I’m feeling, I was gonna guess ‘hit by a car’.”

“No. Almost though. You did stumble into the street on our way back here.”

“And let me guess,” she started with a small, teasing smile, “you were there to pull me out of the way of an oncoming car like a true knight in shining armor?”

“Naturally,” he confirmed with a cheeky smile of his own.

“My hero.”

Once her lightheadedness had faded to the wayside a bit, Cariedee began to pile the plates on the table into a neat pile to offer her help in cleaning up the kitchen. It was the least she could do, she figured, considering Nathan had let her stay the night in his bed when she drank too much to get herself back to the suite.

Nathan turned the sink back on, and as he wrung the sponge out under the running water, Cariedee sidled up next to him and grabbed an extra to begin washing one of the plates. The two exchanged small smiles, and he took the second from the pile to begin doing the same.

They scrubbed in tandem at the crusted chocolate on the stark white glass of the plates in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before Nathan finally cleared his throat and spoke.

“So...” he started, taking a long pause before continuing. “How much do you actually remember? About last night, I mean.”

Cariedee could feel herself blush, and when a spurt of water splashed up from the plate and touched her hot cheek it was a welcome relief.

“I remember kissing you if that’s what you’re asking,” she managed.

While she consciously wanted to keep her eyes averted to avoid any awkwardness, there was a morbid curiosity that made her want to study his reaction. Did he feel as awkward about it as she did? Did he think it was just casual and therefore think nothing of it?

She wasn’t entirely sure, but when she snuck a peek at him from the corner of her eye as she continued to scrub at a spot that was already clean, she could swear she saw him blush as well.

“Well...yes,” he admitted with an awkward laugh.

This time when a silence hung between them it was much heavier and more uncomfortable than it had been before they had breached the subject at hand. Cariedee finally rinsed off the spotless plate and set it onto the drying rack next to the sink.

“Do you...I mean...is that...okay?” She sputtered.

“Of course,” he answered a little too quickly. “It’s beyond okay. You might be thinking the alcohol was playing a leading role in all of that, but if I’m being completely honest...I probably still would have kissed you had I been stone cold sober.”

“Oh.”

The blush that had previously just been tinting her cheeks spread down to her neck.

“That’s all?” He inquired. “Just ‘oh’?”

“I mean,” she paused long enough to formulate a coherent thought. “Honestly? I probably would have too. And maybe that’s stupid. Like really stupid.”

“Oh?”

“It’s just that I’ve made the mistake of getting in over my head with someone too fast before and it ended up kind of straining our friendship,” she explained. “And I don’t want that to happen with us because I really like you, Nathan. I like hanging out with you.”

He smiled warmly.

“I can assure you the feeling’s mutual.”

“So then you understand?”

“Of course. I’m definitely not opposed to the idea of taking a step back and getting to know you better,” he assured her. “I haven’t exactly been lucky in the romance department either, so taking things slow would probably benefit both of us.”

Cariedee couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m not sure how easy it is to believe that you have a hard time getting dates.”

“It’s not the ‘getting’ of the date as much as it’s the authenticity behind it.” He set the last dish on the drying rack before cutting the water off and looking over to her. “A lot of people – especially back home – had ulterior motives for wanting to date a Sterling.”

“They were more interested in the Sterling family money than they were in Nathan Sterling the person?” She asked.

“That among other things.” She realized she must have been wearing her emotions on her face when he paused and laughed a genuine laugh. “Don’t look so apologetic. I didn’t necessarily help myself either.”

As much as she wanted to ask, she bit the question back. He hadn’t pried about her jumping in too soon with who only she knew was Chris, so she knew it was only courteous to return the favor and not pry into his personal life either.

“Well then maybe this is a chance for both of us to do things the right way for a change,” she concluded with a small smile.

When he smiled back she recognized the look in his eyes. It was the same look he had been wearing the night before right before they’d kissed. Only this time he didn’t make a move.

“I think,” he started with the same smile, “I like the sound of that.”

____

The next few weeks of the semester came in went in a near blur. Cariedee spent the majority of her time balancing “researching” and writing for Professor Vasquez and taking care of her classwork. The little bit of free time that she did have was often split between spending time with her suitemates and with the Alphas.

She and Nathan had been honoring what they said about taking things slow as well. While they hadn’t been seeing too much of one another due to their differences in schedules, but the time they did spend together had been staying platonic and within the realms of getting to know one another. In fact, she had learned that the little quirks that he hid behind his “perfect” facade only made him that much more endearing.

It was the first day of October when Cariedee stood in Professor Vasquez’s office with her latest assignment, her eyes studying him as he read over the pages with his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He scribbled something in the margin of the last page before capping his pen and looking up at her with hands folded in front of him.

“I want you to go deeper,” he concluded. “What you’re writing...it’s superficial. Nothing that I couldn’t find out through watching Music Television. If I wanted to hear about the possibility of someone helping with an Alpha Theta Mu bake sale I’d watch Martha Stuart. I want to hear about the fratority from the inside. I want to see what’s beneath the surface. The darker side, so to speak.”

“There is no darker side, Professor.”

“Nonsense! You expect me to believe that an organization full of spoiled rich elites gets their kicks by simply baking cookies for Alzheimer’s research?”

“Believe it or not, real life isn’t always as dramatic or exciting as the movies,” she reminded him.

“Your naivety will be your downfall, Cariedee.” He sighed and shook his head, as if she was a lost cause not worth arguing with. “Just know that next week I’ll be expecting more than a happy-go-lucky story of baking cookies and whispers of sweet nothings.”

Her mouth opened to argue with him. She could practically feel the words creeping up in her throat. But before she could make a sound, she decided against it. If she had learned anything throughout the course of the semester, she had learned that trying to argue with Vasquez was the equivalent of trying to reason with a brick wall. He was entirely too stubborn to listen, and in a way, so was she.

So instead of dragging out their meeting any longer, she simply offered him the “yes, Professor” that she knew he had been looking for and went on her way, hoping to whatever powers may have been listening that a “story” would fall into her lap before next Tuesday.

[wennjunwho]

✨Neighbor! Jun text au Epilogue✨

“It’s been five years and you still can’t remember your keys Junhui?” It had taken you a few minutes to put the words together, to get your thoughts to arrange. Plenty of people had the same bad habit, and yet you still were so sure it was him, so sure you could tell his fingers were the ones typing the text, so sure…

It took you a minute to let it sink in. A minute for you to register Jun’s silhouette; a second to realize what was happening. You could feel it bubbling up. Missing Jun was the thought you kept pushing at the back of every day, it was the thought you hadn’t allowed to see the light of day ever since you let him go.

You could see Jun’s eyes widening as he heard your voice, a slight drop of the jaw. “You…” he stopped for a second, debating if it was okay to hug you or not, debating if he should even approach you at this point. “Brat… what? You live here?”

You opened and closed your mouth at least three times, trying for something even mildly coherent to come out. “I’m 44C” You kept nodding like an idiot, your head bobbing up and down as if moving would help make any more sense of the situation.

“I’m 45C.” You could feel Jun’s breath sharpening, his hands flying to meet his forehead. “How…?”

“I don’t…” you looked up at Jun, your gaze saying everything you needed to communicate. “Wonwoo.” The both of you spat the word in unison, a smile popping up as you noticed.

Jun threw his head back, a laugh escaping his lips. “I told him to stop messing with people’s lives.”

“He’s taking this matchmaker thing to far… I wondered why he sounded so happy this morning.” You were about to start ranting about Wonwoo when it dawned on you, Jun was right there. Wen Junhui was standing right in front of you with brown hair and the same goddamn cologne he wore five years ago, and you had no idea what was going on in his life. A thousand questions lingered at the tip of your tongue, only three making it out coherently.  “How are you? How have you been? Is your girlfriend…?”

Jun interrupted you before you could finish the sentence. “It’s over.” Jun smiled slightly.  “It’s been for the last three years.” You could see Jun struggle with the words, his brain and his mouth wanting to go on completely opposite directions.  “You?”

“You said it; I’m good at starting relationships not keeping them.”

Jun tilted his head to the right, an eyebrow shooting up. “I did?”

“Long ago.” The words tasted wrong in your mouth, it seemed to dawn on Jun the same way it did you, it was too long ago.

“God, I was awful.” He smiled kindly. You wondered if he was thinking the same as you, if he was even slightly fiddling with the thought.  

“Does that mean you’re kinder now?” You could feel tears itching behind your eyes, your hands kept fiddling at your sides trying to reach something.

“Do you know nothing about me, brat?” It’s easy. You thought. With Jun it was always easy.

“It has been five years since I last saw you.” You couldn’t quite get those words out of your head. It had been five years; you hadn’t even spoken a word to Jun in five years. “I might get a few facts wrong. I don’t even know what you’re working on anymore.”

You could see how that comment threw him aback. “I’m in a production of Alice in Wonderland, have been for a few months.” He shot up an eyebrow in your direction. “School?”

“I graduated last year.” Your cheeks hurt from smiling, you were not even sure why anymore.

“Time flies huh?”  You could almost see Jun’s brain doing summersaults, you were wondering if he was thinking what you were aching to say.

“Yeah, well last time was…” You tried to go on, tried to put a ‘but’ into the argument you knew he was about to throw at you.

“Eventful.” He completed the sentence with ease. “Did you mean it? The last text you sent me?” He left the words linger for a bit before opening his mouth again.  “Do you still remember it? It’s been too long I…”

“I remember all of them.” Embarrassingly well. You remembered each and every one of them, the noteworthy ones, the stupid ones, the ugly ones, all of them; you couldn’t quite let them go.  

“So did you?”

“God, Jun, it was so obvious, I did.”

“We really were idiots.” Those were the words you had been telling yourself nonstop for so long, the words that kept lingering every time Jun’s name was mentioned in a conversation, the words you kept trying to drown only for them to float back up.

“Yeah, well, timing just wasn’t on our side…”

There was a shine in Jun’s eyes, you had only seen it once before, you knew too well how the story goes. “What if it is now, brat?”

“Jun…”

“No, listen… I know… I know we don’t really know what we’ve become, but old habits die hard brat… you’re my oldest one.” The air was cold against your arms, a thought you couldn’t quite comprehend popping up right in front of you. “I do get we’ve changed brat, I do get five years is a hell of a long time to spend apart. But we’re here now, and the timing’s right. We’re getting a do over brat, so what do you say? Would you be my neighbor?”

“Do I have a choice?”

Neighbor Jun Playlist

AN: I have such a hard time writing anything remotely happy, so this isn´t quite my best work but neighbor Jun is so close to my heart, I think you guys deserved this. It´s not the “kiss, kiss, kiss” ending you wanted but it’s the right one (I think).Right person wrong time turned into right person right time, that’s the most important thing here.

Ok so especial thanks to: @sillylittlesuicide lily listened to me whine about this series more than anyone, without her I would’ve never been able to finish. @squishyuji I’m pretty sure she was the first person to ever comment about neighbor Jun, thank you so much for that, it kept me going. @ilaneyk soy pesima para contestarte, pero vos sos una gran parte de esta serie y estoy demasiado agradecida. @earprinting @milkandhannie @queerjunhui @messedupfangirl @yuudru @bottles-of-lightning @luminescent-breeze @zombie-todd @sayurifushigi @junspurplehair @nanablast @crying-axolotl @elenorekarat @yourprettywonu @liz-writes-stuff @boomboombitchesthank you so much for reading it all the way through, I recognize you guys’ usernames so much and Im so so happy every time you pop up, so thank you, from the bottom of my heart

[werevulvi]

So i watched your youtube video on your identity and i just wanted to say that i don’t think it’s strange to be proud of being trans or to identify as a TRANS man. Personally, i just identify as a man, not a trans man, because I don’t see me being biofemale or trans as a part of my identity i care to share with anyone. But for some people, being just a man without identifying as trans feels like erasing who they used to be. So i don’t blame you at all for emphasizing being trans. (1/2)

“(2/2) However, i am a little confused by what you mean in your bio about being dysphoric due to misogyny and trauma. I can see how trauma/sexism can make you not want to be female, but i don’t see how it would make you truly gender dysphoric, to the point where it would be helped with physical transition. How do you figure that helped you out if your dysphoria isn’t innate? Couldn’t you argue therapy would work better?” I think that makes sense, I can understand and empathise with not wanting one's bio sex to be part of one's identity. I mean I get that most trans men just wanna get away from that. I used to feel like that too before, so I can relate, and I'd say even understand, and I respect that. But yeah, I think I've just been met with a lot of disdain in general, and people misinterpreting what I mean. I often get met with confusion, people haphazardly throwing the nonbinary label at me (didn't think it was possible to pass as nonbinary, but I think I'll reconsider that) or asking why I don't detransition if I like being female and... I don't think I like being female in a cis woman kinda way, whatever that means, but I like it in a way that's only compatible with being trans. So, not mutually exclusive. But I get if it makes other trans men dysphoric how I gush about my pussy all the damn time... I'm sorry, I know I'm cringe. Sometimes I wonder if I'm just too autistic to make words happen coherently, lol. In regards to how often I get misinterpreted, I mean. In regards to my dysphoria: Well, if you can see how trauma/sexism can make me not wanna be female, can you also see how me not wanting to be female would make me wanna be male instead? If so, there's your answer. And the solution to not being male is... testosterone. I mean, not a miracle obviously, but close enough to fool an untrained eye, so to say. I don't think there's such a thing as "true" gender dysphoria. Which might be bold of me to say, since I admittedly wasn't born with mine... I mean, I managed to figure out when I first felt dysphoric ever, at roughly age 3 or 4, and what exactly triggered that feeling, which was a mildly traumatic event. I also know that every single traumatic event in my life from that point on exacerbated my dysphoria. I also have noticed that facing more misogyny now in my adulthood, actually is one of the biggest things that makes continuously put off by the idea of living as a woman again. Like... not worth the street harrassment, if you know what I'm saying. So who am I to argue the legitimacy of non-innate dysphoria? I just wanted to point that out to let you know that I'm aware of the irony in that. But like, hear me out: I've been transitioned for 12 years by now, I even attempted to detransition, and in total spent 6 years (4 pre-transition, 2 in detransition) digging deep at my issues, and trying to fix my dysphoria in non-transition ways, including therapy. I grasped for medical transition to treat my dysphoria as my last resort... twice. I didn't hop on testo two minutes after discovering I might be trans, no siree, I was diagnosed with the old GID back in harsh times, (im)properly gatekept, sought second opinion and the fucking finally got blessed with the lifesaving drug about 5 years after my initial coming out, and 9 years after I had discovered I unfortunately seem to be an ftm transsexual. Taking testosterone, getting top surgery, presenting as male, etc, has evidently been effective treatment for me, I dare say. I'm happier than ever the more male-like I look (aside from the genital department, but atypical dysphoria is still dysphoria, and I love my T-growth, btw) and more miserable the more clearly female I look. That's about as solid proof as anyone could get, that transition is right for them, don't you think? So I think I have some credibility and quite a leg to stand on. I mean some of ya'll just went to Planned Parenthood two months ago and that can make a guy really cocky. Not judging, though, just saying. That being judged by a baby tran as an elder tran can feel a little... well, somewhere between insulting a laughable depending on the situation. No, I can't argue that therapy would be a better way for me to treat my dysphoria, because that would be a heck of a lot more hassle than just continuing taking T, which works just wonderfully. I wouldn't make a pretty lady anymore, and nor would I want to. So, thanks for the suggestion, but I'll... pass. (Ba dum dum tisch!) Had it been 10+ years ago though... sure, I'd consider it. That said, I appreciate your message, and I think it’s an interesting thing to discuss, no matter what complicated feelings your questions rouse in me.

[antomec]

A Sweet Escape

This is a very late birthday present for @gsut ! I wanted to finish and upload it on her actual birthday, but school intervened in the worst possible way. I am so sorry T_T.

I hope you like this – it started as a very random jumble of words and then morphed into a somewhat coherent fic. I’d really wanted to write a medieval (tho not very medieval) AU, and I also wanted to write Mineel, so I thought, why not both? And then I promptly understood that I love writing these two adorkable weirdos.

Title: A Sweet Escape

Words: 3919

Rating: T

Summary:  “As you may know, a week from now is the ball commemorating my” – Lucy spits the word out – “engagement. So I need your help to escape.” In which Minerva is paired up with the unfamiliar man she’s seen over the week in the castle to orchestrate the princess’s jailbreak.

The first time Minerva sets eyes on him, it's in the corridor leading to the princess's chambers. No doubt he was replacing one of the guards placed outside the room.

Which is idiocy in the first place, since Minerva and nearly everyone on the staff knew that the princess was the kind of person who'd make a rope out of towels and sheets and escape through the window. If you asked her, Minerva would suggest guarding the windows as well.

She couldn't see his face, but she was sure by just a glance that this was a man not to be trifled with. He was dressed in dull green robes, as though he hoped that he would blend in inconspicuously.

Unfortunately for him, Minerva notices everything.

In the kitchens, she feels more at home. The heat is stifling, but it is nothing that she hasn’t experienced before. She is good friends with the other cooks, even if she can be stand-offish at times. 

As she walks in and takes up her usual position at the counter, she sees Lisanna and Laki chattering away at the stove. Minerva smiles and nods at them, and returns to her work.

As she kneads and rolls the dough in front of her, she takes a look around the kitchens. It is a huge room, with stoves and ovens and a neat little corner for all the dishes to be washed in. Seeing as dinner was just over, Minerva pities the boy doomed to wash them all.

Out of the corner of her eye, she notices a flash of movement. When she turns around, she sees that it’s him again.

He is still dressed in his green clothes, but Minerva can now take a better look at him. He has long unruly black hair , and if she squints, she can make out a little mark on his shoulder. He’s talking to Max Alors, the sweeper who occasionally graces the kitchens with his broom.

He finally nods goodbye to Max, and walks stiffly out. Max quickly follows him, his hand outstretched, like he’s calling him back. But before he leaves, he catches Minerva’s eye, as though he noticed her assessing him.

Which couldn’t possibly be true, right?

Minerva sighs loudly and returns to her work.

“Be careful on your way home, Minerva!”

“I will! Thanks, Lisanna!” Minerva yells back.

The sun is slowly setting, and Minerva needs to hurry. Because Yukino needs to go home to take care of her sister, and that would result in the bakery being closed early.

Minerva picks up her pace a bit.

Luck is on her side, and she reaches her bakery in time. A bell signals her arrival as she enters the little shop.

Yukino looks up from the counter and grins at her. “Oh thank goodness, I thought I’d have to close up early. Do you mind if I go ahead now?”

“Thanks for not leaving sooner. But yes, go ahead. I’m sure Sorano needs you.” Minerva says as she nudges Yukino out from behind the counter.

Yukino smiles gratefully at her, and pulls her scarf from the hook behind her on the wall, and hurries out the door.

Minerva glances around, and is relieved when she sees that there’s only a single customer perusing her confectionery stand.

As soon as the customer pays and leaves, a peaceful silence settles in her quaint bakery. Minerva basks in the quiet, and decides it’s time to close up shop.

As she puts out the torches in their brackets and clears up the counter, her thoughts race back to the unfamiliar man she saw today. She’d asked Lisanna and Laki about him, but they had merely shrugged their shoulders.

She doesn’t know a thing about him, but Minerva can feel in her gut that she’s about to.

The next day, Minerva shows up bright and early to her bakery. Around noon, Yukino arrives to take the shop off her hands, and Minerva makes her way to the castle grounds 

When Minerva pushes the door to the kitchens, she nearly runs over Max, who’s loitering just inside. A rush of apologies takes place, and Minerva suddenly remembers the unfamiliar man.

“Max, do you know that man who came in yesterday?” she asks immediately.

Max, for his part, looks confused. “Who?”

"Long black hair, scary-looking man?"

"Oh!" Max cries. "You must mean Gajeel."

Gajeel. As far as names went, it wasn't bad.

"He works for the princess," Max continues. "He came in about a week ago. I'm not completely sure what his actual job is, but I do know he runs a couple errands for her."

So he was just an errand boy?

"Thank you, Max." Minerva smiles, sincerity transparent in her voice.

And Max seems to have heard it too, because he immediately ducks his head and says, "I have to go. Goodbye, Minerva."

Minerva watches him walk away with his broom over his shoulder and sighs audibly.

"Minerva, hurry up! We need your help here!" Laki calls.

Minerva doesn’t waste a second.

Yukino's sister – Sorano – had broken her foot in a nasty fall, and it had claimed Minerva's friend into a five-month servitude. 

"The healer says that it should've been better in four months, but it's been five, Minerva, five!" Yukino rants. "I'm very sure that she's just faking it at this point."

Minerva suspects that Yukino is very near to banging her head against the wall, but she doesn't comment, and simply lets her friend ramble on.

"Also, she had the nerve to ask me-" Interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell, the pair whip their heads towards the entrance. Like clockwork, Yukino bows – her previous annoyance disappearing – to their customer and says cheerfully, "Welcome to our bakery!"

Minerva, meanwhile, is speechless. Because their newest customer is none other than the elusive errand boy – Gajeel.

Yukino elbows her – very discreetly – and Minerva realises that she has been staring.

"Welcome to our bakery,"she says politely to him. Gajeel stares at her curiously in return.

Then he turns around and walks out of the bakery.

Yukino can't believe his audaciousness, and she proceeds to let Minerva know.

Minerva merely shakes her head and tells Yukino to go home early.

Gajeel probably came by to find out who she was. He must have caught wind that she was asking around about him. Somewhere deep inside her, Minerva realizes that even if he is a simple errand boy, he is someone not to be trifled with.

The next time she sees him is a week later. And once again, he is her customer.

After she bites out a welcome to him, Gajeel steps near the counter and goes straight to business. 

"I hear you've been asking about me," he says.

"And I hear you're an errand boy to the princess,” Minerva snarks back.

Gajeel smiles wryly at her response. ”I’m Gajeel,” he says, leaning his elbows on the counter. Minerva isn’t intimidated, and she neatly pushes his face away from hers with a finger. “I know.”

They glare at each other for a good while, before Minerva decides to be civil. “Minerva,” she says simply.

Gajeel replies, “I know.”

Minerva has a sneaking suspicion that they’re going to be very good friends.

“Minerva Orlando of the Magnolia Bakery has been requested to appear before the princess tomorrow morning,” the messenger reads out loud from his letter 

Minerva is confused, and so is Yukino. But Yukino is the only one who is vocal about it.

“What do you mean ‘before the princess’?” She asks. “Like a summons to the castle?”

“Rightly so, Miss Aguria.” The messenger has short hair, a scar over his cheek, and wears an earring. Minerva’s seen him around the castle often – if memory serves right, his name should be Mest.

And it seems that Mest also has guards with him. Gajeel smirks annoyingly from behind Mest, and looks up at the other guard at Mest’s side. Minerva only has two words to describe him – blond and big.

“I’ll be taking my leave now. Please don’t be late, Miss Orlando.”

And with that, Mest turns on his heels and exits, his guards right behind him. But before they leave, Gajeel looks behind one last time and catches Minerva’s eye.

He fails to see her smile, however.

The princess is the kind of person who held no grudges and is friendly with everyone. As a result, this isn’t the first time Minerva’s met with her. She’s met her several times before when the princess had decided to break out of her rooms. 

She rarely ever succeeds, but Minerva has hope that one day she’ll be triumphant.

“Princess Lucy, how may I help you?” The sound of sincerity in Minerva’s voice is not false. What is false, however, is the humour in Gajeel’s grin as he stands behind the princess.

Minerva finds nothing funny in this situation.

“Minerva! I need to hire your hands.” Lucy is smiling at her, but Minerva’s long since learned how to tell the difference. Lucy is worried. Minerva is sure of it.

“As you may know, a week from now is the ball commemorating my” – Lucy spits the word out – “engagement. So I need your help to escape.”

The princess’s words aren’t shocking in the least. The ball was the talk of the town. It would be a surprise if their princess actually agreed to the wedding. Minerva reckons her hope in Lucy may not be futile.

So Minerva is totally and utterly sure of her answer when she says, “Of course, Your Highness.”

By the princess's order, Minerva and Gajeel are to work together. The plan is already in the works, but Minerva needs to work harder than ever in order to pull it off. Gajeel tries his best, but they both understand that Minerva knows better. 

So instead, Gajeel stands by, being mildly irritating. 

"If you hadn't become a baker, what else would you have become?" He asks, sitting on the stool she's provided him, casually leaning against the table behind.

Minerva takes a minute or two to reply, and when she finds the answer, she makes a big show of it. "Well, I suppose...I would have...still become a baker somehow," she finishes with a grin.

Gajeel groans and she laughs at him.

And as Minerva scoops something out of her bowl and tastes it, she suddenly realises that she knows nearly nothing about what Gajeel does for a living. Sure, he was known in the castle as the princess's errand boy, but exactly what kind of errands would a princess need done?

Minerva wastes no time in asking this. In reply, Gajeel laughs at her, and Minerva decides that she doesn't like him anymore.

"I'm surprised that you haven't figured it out yet. I was hired specifically for this plan." Gajeel's eyes are full of mirth as he looks at her.

"This plan? As in, helping the princess escape from her engagement plan?" Her voice betrays her incredulity.

"Of course. I thought that must have been obvious, especially after you were told about it."

Minerva wants to smack herself for not realising it sooner. She chances a look at him, and smiles sheepishly. Gajeel returns the grin.

Perhaps they were better friends than she realised.

The stage is set. Tonight would change a few lives.

 Minerva just wants to go home.

What was she thinking? She can't pull off something as dastardly as this. This is treason. She could lose her head for this!

It was all Gajeel's fault. He was a bad influence. After all, he was the one who recommended her to Princess Lucy.

The very same princess who was depending on her to play her part so that she could escape.

Minerva sighs loudly.

"Whatcha sighing for, Minerva?"

The voice startles her. Badly enough to nearly let the tray in her hands topple over.

"Woah, careful!" Strong hands help her to her feet and she recognises who the voice is – Sting Eucliffe, one of the celebrated soldiers of the country. And also unfortunate childhood friend of hers.

She raps her knuckles on his head. "I thought I told you to stop sneaking up on people."

"Hey!" He cries. "It's not my fault you didn't notice me sooner," he adds. This earns him another rap.

"What are you standing around in the servants' corridor for? Soldiers like you should be out in the hall. Can't you go dance with someone and annoy him?" Minerva's tone is sharp.

"You know I've never liked those kind of things, Min."

She nods her head at his comment. It was true – give Sting a sword and he'd be happy to hack off someone's head. But dress him up and ask him to dance, and he'd sooner dismember himself.

"I need to go now, Sting." Minerva says lightly. "If you want, you can sit in the kitchens. Just sit in one of the corners and don't bother anyone." She pats his head, shifts the tray steadier in her hands, and walks down the corridor.

When she enters the main ballroom, she is floored by the amount of work that went into decorating the place.

Glass chandeliers hang from the ceiling; girls in uniform offer drinks in crystal flutes; men and women are heavily made up and dancing on the floor – Minerva would be lying if she said she wasn't intimidated. She scans the room and promptly finds the princess, beautiful in her blue gown, but her eyes land on the man behind her.

For some insane reason, Minerva actually thinks that Gajeel sees her among this crowd of people. Even better, she thinks he actually winks at her and points to something.

It's the stress, she decides. Her anxiety is acting up.

But just in case, she glances at the place where she hallucinated Gajeel pointing and sees the princess's family. The king has a cruel smile on his face and though Minerva hasn't seen him up close, she already knows that he is untrustworthy. She longs for the day that Lucy might take the throne.

But of course, if she runs away tonight, that would mean it'd be a long time before she actually became queen.

Minerva shakes the thought from her head.

It's her time to shine.

She's dressed in server clothes, so no one will take a second look at her. Mustering up all her courage, she exhales and pushes out into the crowd. The tray in her arms wobble slightly on her arms in nervousness, and she somehow makes it up to the dais in one piece.

The royal family sits in front of her.

Smoothly, effortlessly, just like she practised, she gently says, "The Magnolia Bakery offers you this as a token of our appreciation." Minerva sets the tray down on their table and whips the covering off, revealing pure white icing on what seemed to be a simple layered cake. But when Minerva picks up the knife and gently removes a slice, the insides of the cake are stained blood-red.

From the corner of her eye, she can see Lucy nearly jumping with excitement.

"The royal family of Magnolia thanks you for your thoughtfulness. You may leave now." The queen smiles at her, and Minerva cannot tell if it is genuine. The queen has spent so long perfecting it that she doubts whether the queen herself knows if it is false.

Minerva bows once again, and she does not dare to look at Gajeel as she walks away.

One she is a safe distance away, she watches them eat the confectionery; Lucy politely refuses the slice offered to her.

"It's something I picked up on one of my travels. A healer by the name of Wendy."

"Is it dangerous? Because I refuse to add anything lethal in this batter!"

"Calm down. It just a sedative. Even if the entire army comes banging on the king’s door, he won’t wake up.”

Just because Minerva had agreed to the plan didn't mean that she had to like it. And she hadn't. Not in the least.

When Minerva wakes up, she feels worried. As though something’s about to happen and she has no way to prevent it.

The town is still buzzing about the gala two days later. This is mainly because the princess has been declared kidnapped. The royal family is, understandably, in tears. The king has announced that he’ll be sending search parties to look for her. He apparently has certain suspects in mind.

Minerva snickers, because everyone knows that if Lucy disappeared, it is only because she wanted to. Their rulers are the only ones left to realize this little fact. 

Minerva sends Yukino to the castle kitchens in her stead as soon as noon approaches. And almost as soon as Yukino leaves, Gajeel steps in.

“Were you waiting for her to leave?” Minerva asks incredulously.

Gajeel brushes off the comment, and gets down straight to business. “I need to leave.”

“By all means, the door is right behind you.” Minerva’s tone is fatal.

“I mean Magnolia. The king is sending a search party for Lucy.”

Minerva makes sure to keep her face impassive. “Why do you have to go? You know exactly where she is.”             

“I do. She’s safe. She’s staying with my...brother.”

A brother? She didn’t know Gajeel had a brother.

“We don’t share blood. We just know each other from a very young age.”

Oh. She’d said that out loud.

“Then are you going to go visit him?” Minerva’s mind is running amok with thoughts of him leaving for good. She doesn’t like any of the possibilities she comes up with.

“I might. I’m not quite sure. I need to make sure that my troop stays far away from them as possible.” Gajeel blinks a couple of times. ”The king wants me to report my findings after three months, if not before. I might visit Erik to update him and Lucy on our progress.” Gajeel exhales through his nose loudly.

Meanwhile, Minerva has stopped functioning. “Th-three months?”

“You’ll be the first person to see me when I come back. I promise.”

Minerva doesn’t answer. Instead, she nods numbly.

“I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

It has been four months since the stupid idiot left her.

Minerva stopped expecting him at her doorstep a week after three months. She has accepted the grim reality that he could be dead in a ditch somewhere.

Her bakery is at the peak of its glory. People flock to it like pigeons to breadcrumbs. She and Yukino have become well-off.

Yukino still lives with her sister – her foot’s all better, thank the good lord, Yukino says to her during work. They take turns working in the castle kitchens each day. Minerva does not particularly like the arrangement, mostly because it gives her too much time to think.

And Minerva hopes that Gajeel thinks about her as much as she thinks about him.

Minerva imagines what her reaction would be if he steps in out of the blue into her not-so-little shop. She’s through the second hypothetical situation when Yukino bursts in through the front door.

“H-he-” she wheezes.

“He? He who?” Minerva tries so hard to extinguish it, but a small flare of hope lights inside her chest.

“Gajeel – he’s in the castle.” Yukino is bent over, hands on her knees, exhaustion clearly written in the way she’s gasping for breath.

“Did you run all the way here?“ Minerva asks worriedly.

Yukino mumbles a reply, but Minerva doesn’t hear it as she suddenly realizes something. Gajeel came back, and she had to hear it from another person?

Minerva angrily kicks a chair near her, and then promptly pulls her knee up, wincing in pain. She’s so incredibly angry at Gajeel, and she knows it’s unwarranted, but it’s just been so long, and he promised!

So, after Minerva hands her friend a glass of water, and shoos her out the door, she sits in a chair in front of the counter, waiting for his inevitable arrival.

And sure enough, he does arrive.

And by the heavens above, Minerva has missed him.

His hair has grown out and has now become a wild mess. He’s dressed in – Minerva notes his with surprise – the dull green robes she first saw him in. She nearly smiles at that, but then pulls herself together. She doesn’t say anything, just stares him down.

Gajeel takes one look at her and sighs, like he already knows that this is going to be a long conversation.

He pulls up a chair and sits opposite Minerva. She still hasn’t stopped glaring.

“Hi.” He says it tentatively.

“You said you’d come visit me first. You promised.” Minerva can hear the hurt in her voice as she replies.

“I know. I just had to pick up a few things.” At his words, Minerva’s eyes flick to the bag he’s set on the floor. But she doesn’t let the issue go yet.

“At the castle?” She can feel her old self in those words again – her old snarky self. She’s been too depressed to snark lately.

“I needed to tell the king that I was leaving the castle. I won’t work for him anymore.”

Minerva had suspected that that might have been the case, but she doesn’t let on to that fact.

Gajeel stirs, and picks up the bag by his feet. He scoots his chair nearer and sticks his hand inside. He pulls out a few things in rapid succession and drops them into Minerva’s lap.

MInerva looks at them in surprise. He’d given her a bag of flour and sugar.

“They’re from Hargeon, the port town. I got them from a woman who claimed she was from Alvarez.”

Alvarez? Provisions from Alvarez were practically unheard of!

“This couldn’t have been cheap.” Minerva declares.

“Quite possibly. But I wanted to make it up to you. I’ve been away too long.” He admits, head drooping. “I’ve missed you.”

Minerva smiles for the first time. “Me too. Thank you for these,” she adds.

Gajeel lifts his head up and smirks. “Aren’t you going to ask about Lucy?”

Minerva groans out loud, and Gajeel chuckles. She had clean forgot about Lucy. Even though it was because of her that Minerva hadn’t seen Gajeel for more than four months.

"She's happy. Euphoric, even." Gajeel says anyway.

"That's nice." She comments. After a while, she adds, "I hope you aren't too hurt."

Gajeel straightens. "Just a couple of scratches. I came close to losing my arm-" Minerva's eyes go wide "-but that's a story for later."

Minerva scoffs loudly, and gets up from her chair and heads to the kitchen. Gajeel follows her, his presents to her in his hands.

He sets them down on the tabletop, and turns around only to crash into Minerva, who'd been standing right behind him. And then suddenly, he's kissing her. Something Minerva thinks is long overdue.

When they break for air, Gajeel's first words are, "I hope you wanted to do that. If you didn't, then this going to be very awkward."

Minerva giggles – unbelievable – and weakly thumps his chest. "Of course I did, idiot," she reprimands.

Minerva has never been good with words, but then neither has Gajeel. And Minerva thinks that, maybe – quite possibly – she'd rather have her crass errand boy than someone articulate.