#i mean at this point it's gonna happen anyway rite who are we kidding

[zingaplanet]

Ok but does this mean we finally get coach Federer trying to teach but ending up having a giggling fit with his young students, getting tanned under the Mallorcan sun with frankly ridiculous sunglasses, regularly disturbing rafa's practice sessions by constantly laughing at him from the sidelines, and being the ultimate cheerleader for twin little federers practicing with uncle rafa when he finally moved to the rafa nadal academy or what.

[dakarimainink]

Story Time

WARNING: fluff, cute, angst, awkward, alcohol, stranger meets stranger

Character: Pedro Pascal

Wordcount: 1.8K

Note: Not betad, all mistakes are my own.

Divider by me! 😊

Oh god, please let me know what you think of this. The way of telling it is new to me, but I kind of liked the flow of it. Keep in mind this is told in a vocal language as if I actually tell it to you. Let me know if you liked it or not, any feedback on this is very much welcome.

Okay, let me tell you about the first time I met Pedro Pascal. This was (I believe) right before shooting of GOT season 4. I was, at the time, not a huge TV or movie person, except I actually did watch GOT because it was so huge and my friends kinda got me in to it. And I also watched Breaking Bad, because let’s face it, it’s a brilliant series. Anyways, here is the story of my embarrassing first meeting with Pedro Pascal.

It was a late night in New York. I had been to a comedy club with some friends of mine; laughing our asses off and drinking. Not gonna lie, I don’t remember the comedian (sorry), but I do remember he wore the cleanest pair of white Converse shoes I’ve ever seen on a person. I don't know why I remember that, but yeah.

Now, I had told my friends I would walk home, as I only lived a few blocks down the road. They had insisted on me taking a taxi with them, but I refused. Honestly, I didn't want to waste money on it and I had walked home alone before. Being the stubborn woman I was, they gave up and let me walk. Besides, I sober faster up and avoid a hangover with some fresh air before bed (or at least as fresh air one can get in NYC).

Walking home, I stumbled a little on the slightly uneven sidewalk.

Now let me point out that I am not drunk. I am however tipsy, but not so gone that I am not aware of my surroundings. If someone was to walk up to me, I could easily punch them and run off, if necessary. But I would run with a slight tilt, if you know what I mean. Not that I actually want to punch someone, because I am honestly scared of hurting anyone (raise your hand if you have childhood trauma), but I will for survival.

Anyways. Walking home, the nightlife was booming. I think it was about nine in the evening, so the streets were littered with people either already drunk or going to the club getting drunk. Basically a normal Saturday evening. I did not envy the people bending over a bush, begging for nothing to splash back onto them as they puked their guts out, just to go back into the club and start the process all over again.

Being a woman walking alone that late, in NYC anywhere, you can already imagine the disgusting men catcalling me, throwing comments thinking I would rush to them and beg them to take me then and there.

It honestly baffles me how men actually think those kinds of things work, because newsflash, it doesn't. It's literally disgusting and I have to force myself to not gag and throw up.

So walking home, ignoring the nauseating comments, I passed by the same buildings, stores, clubs and restaurants I had done probably a million times before. I did consider stopping by my favourite burger shop Greasy Joe’s (classic name, am I rite?), but knew my body rather wanted to crash down in bed.

As I was just about two blocks away from my home, I managed to trip on my own feet. 

Now I am not a person who often trip over or stumble at all, but for some godforsaken reason, my feet decided that, right outside - what I would call an exclusive restaurant - (mostly because it was too expensive for mere mortals to eat there) I fell to my knees, luckily embracing myself on my hands.

For a moment I froze, my body trying to assess what happened and what the damage was. I remember it felt like needles prickling into the palms of my hands and on my knees. I was just begging I didn’t ruin my jeans as I had recently purchased them. (Jeans are seriously expensive, especially when you are gifted with thighs of a goddess, ready to crush anything coming in-between)

I also remember it felt like the whole world went silent for a moment, as if my hearing was not important as my brain was trying hard to get an overview of my own state.

I heard a male mumble and then a hand appearing in front of my face. Then a little more mumbling until I finally caught some words. “... Help you up.” I instinctively grabbed the hand, supporting myself as it pulled me up.

And again, my legs wanted to be difficult tonight for some reason, so of course my knees gave in - not sure if it was because of the fall or if I just truly had bad fortune that night, or perhaps that I was in fact, more than just tipsy - and I tumbled forward and smacked my head onto what I didn’t realise at first, was a human chest.

I placed my hands onto the torso and carefully pushed back awkwardly. I stared at my hands as I realised what I was pushing against and winced and snapped my hands away from the person in front of me.

I felt my ears and cheeks burn, I mean like, seriously burn so badly it felt like a second degree burn. I looked up to - what I quickly realised was - a man’s face and he seemed to be a bit embarrassed as well, as he was also coloured in his cheeks (definitely not as bad as mine though)

I didn’t recognise him at all, but you can already guess who the person was (Yup, Pedro himself).

What really caught me off guard was his eyes. They were so dark I could actually see my reflection in them. There was also a spark in them due to the yellow lights emitting from the restaurant he had apparently just exited.

We were both kind of frozen and embarrassed and my brain was not going to help me even form a single “thank you” and or “sorry”. Luckily, his brain was working better than mine, so he was the one to speak up first.

“That was quite the fall, are you alright?” He actually seemed worry for my little tumble. I hadn’t even hit my head and he looked down upon me as if I was a hurt child.

I said of course I was fine, I wasn’t really hurt and that I was just on my way home. He asked if I needed a taxi, but of course I didn’t need that, I was just two blocks away from my home, so I politely refused.

He asked if he could escort me the rest of the way, but I told him no, because he was a stranger, but not only a stranger, but a male stranger. He really didn’t want me to walk home alone, but he understood my point of view. He insisted on calling for a taxi, but I told him it would be a waste, as it would probably take longer for the taxi to arrive than me just walking straight home.

As I explained this, I was already kind of backing away from him and towards home. He didn’t push it any further, but I swear I could feel him watch me as I continued to walk away.

However, two doors down, was one of the hottest nightclubs in NYC. Mostly higher middle-class and lower high-class would go there. Especially “kids” with their parents credit cards would go there frequently. (Now I use the word kid, even though they are probably in their early twenties and I am in my mid twenties, but to me, kids because of their behaviour)

As I passed, a self entitled kid with too much alcohol and self esteem approached me - I could smell the alcohol before he reached me - and stopped me in my tracks. I fisted my hands as he tried to push himself onto me, which was quite disgusting by the way. His perfume were oozing off him, and that mixed with the alcohol was making me gag.

He kept asking for my name, if I was down for a good time, if he could buy me a drink, if I wanted to come into the club with him, if he could have my number, if I wanted to go home with him and so on and so forth. I gently pushed him away, which seemed to set something off in him and he began spitting rude comments. Mostly stuff I had heard before come out of a rejected man’s mouth; so nothing new.

He began walking quite widely and wobbly towards me, as if he wanted to pick a fight me. However, half way towards me, he suddenly stopped and I noticed a presence next to me.

You guessed it, it was Pedro again.

He asked the man to stop and waved over the security guard who somehow missed the loud kid.

As soon as the kid was forced away by the guard, I thanked him once more. He turned to walk away, but I called for him (I didn’t know his name, so I casually just said “Hey!”) He turned around and I told him he could walk me home if the offer still stood.

I remember a smile crossed his lips as I told him and he jogged over to me before we strolled towards my block.

As we began our walk, he held out his hand to me and introduced himself and I shook it and told him my first name as well. Now, instead of talking about our jobs or family or whatever, we actually started talking about African animals, more specifically Elephants as we both considered them our favourite animal. We also had a friendly feud about coffee or tea, as I was (and still am) a tea drinker and he was a coffee drinker.

We were in the middle of talking books when I suddenly realised we were standing outside the entrance to my apartment building.

I'm not gonna lie, I was actually feeling a bit disappointed by this, as I had enjoyed our brief walk and conversation. A small part of me wanted to invite him in, just so we could continue our chat. I felt such a friendly vibe from him and knew if I didn’t get to know him now, I would probably never get to.

I had to, unfortunately, decide to end the journey here and smiled while thanking him. What I didn’t realise was my body slowly tilting forward and before I knew it, we were hugging each other. I had no idea why, but I sure as hell didn’t regret it.

Let me tell you, I have never, ever ever since, had a better or warmer hug ever. I seriously mean it, if you ever get the chance to hug this man, do it, because not only will it make you warm and fuzzy, but it seriously made me happy. Like I could feel the weight of the world seep out of my body and a light just burn within me. I am not kidding.

So we said our goodbyes. I unlocked the entrance door, stepped inside and we gave each other one last glance before I walked up the stairs to my floor.

What I didn’t know then, was that I would meet Pedro Pascal again.

(Wanna be added to my tag list for Pedro Pascal and his characters? Let me know and I will happily add you)

@cynic-spirit, @lililolli, @notabotiswear, @sara-alonso, @blankmooon, @xoxo-callie, @mamacitapascal, @thewaythisis, @greeneyedblondie44​, @stevie75, @mswarriorbabe80​

[gayenerd]

An interview with Mike when Warning came out that I don’t even have a source for - sorry!

Laughing Off a "Warning" With Green Day 

Bassist Mike Dirnt's green thumb, punk perspective and personal dominatrix 

If Mike Dirnt wasn't in one of the most enduring and influential punk bands making the scene, the Green Day bassist could easily be a hilarious stand-up comic. Instead, he's devoting his insightful social commentary laced with witty repartee to the business (and funny business) at hand -- the band's sixth studio album, Warning. While Green Day's Nimrod and (especially) Dookie humor doesn't seep through in this seemingly ominous album title, it may be because these Bay Area hooligans -- Billie Joe Armstrong (vocals, guitar), Tre Cool (drums, percussion) and Dirnt -- have accepted and submitted to certain rites of passage other than platinum-selling discs. But it's definitely not as ominous as all that. We bantered with Dirnt to gauge the barometer of Warning, life as a prankster punk and his bid for world domination as Armstrong's presidential running mate. What would you like to talk about? Probably not myself (laughs). … It gets you so self-involved and self-absorbed, [that] it makes it difficult to change your perspective for an hour or two after you're done doing interviews. It's not so much narcissistic as it is dwelling. It's like being on tour and coming back and decompressing and acclimating to your home life again, because your surroundings are all about you, you, you for so long, that you need to stop and go home and realize, 'Hey, wait a minute. Other people aren't asking for a lot. I'm probably just self-absorbed still, and being an assh*le for a while and don't realize it.' And you need to take a breath and go, 'OK, how can I focus on the smaller things in my life, like getting up in the morning and making my girlfriend coffee? Or making my daughter breakfast.' And taking the focus off yourself for awhile. I think that's important. 

What's fun to talk about? I'm growing a huge pot plant in my back yard right now. My friend gave me this pot plant and I just left it in the window and left the light on it forever, and it grew and grew and grew, and got pretty big. So then I put it in my backyard just to see what would happen, and I came home and it's f*cking enormous! (Laughs) It's of the superskunk variety. It is nasty. Pretty cool. [My friend] is very proud of me. He said, 'Wow, Mike, that's beyond a plant -- that's a crime.' I smoke pot once a month. I take one hit. So I'm gonna give it all to friends.

No "jurassic monkeys" [joints] for you? Not this year.

Any special reason? Three months before my daughter was even conceived, I stopped smokin' pot and I stopped for about a year and a half, just to clean up my act. After that, it's never been the same. I haven't smoked as much pot ever since. I would hate to think that if she needed me, I was impaired by weed.

Warning seems to have been shrouded in a huge amount of secrecy and I have my theories as to why, but I'm hoping you could provide some perspective. We took a break so as not to hate what we do. We really toured the heck out of the last record [Nimrod] for about 238 shows, and we were like, 'OK, it's time to take a real break -- for once.' And instead of writing in the fashion of, 'OK, let's go in and write the next record and pound it out and pound it out' … [for] the last record we wrote about 40-some songs and then let the songs pop out and figure out what the record was from that … [this time] songs stood out on their own and we said, 'OK, this is the album' … Billie waited for inspired moments. And as a band, we practiced when it was working, and we only worked on the songs that already inspired us … instead of forcing it. We had about 14 or 15 songs, and we were like, 'We're totally ready.' And it was pretty obvious at the time which 12 songs were gonna be on the record. There's the dealio. (Laughs) … As far as the secrecy thing, we will sell no wine until its time. [But] go on Napster and check out a couple songs. (Laughs) I know they're there.

What is your point of view on Napster? I think it's gonna work itself out. Everyone keeps sayin', 'What's the deal?' I don't believe their schtick about 'Hey, we started doing this for poor college students and blah-blah-blah.' Well, first of all, if you can afford to go to college, [and if] you can afford a computer that can actually burn a f*ckin' CD and you can afford to pay the online bill, then you're probably not starvin', OK? When I was goin' to junior college, I was worryin' about where my next packet of Top Ramen was comin' from, OK? So, I don't wanna hear that. But do I think [Napster] is all evil? No. There's definitely two sides to it. I make comp tapes at home (granted, they're albums I've purchased). But when I was a kid, I would buy tapes at the flea market. When you're a kid, the only thing you can afford at the flea market is a tape or a pair of sunglasses. I don't think bands should be made to look evil just because they don't wanna be a grasshopper (hence, The Ant and the Grasshopper [fable]). The other side of that is people don't wanna purchase the record (laughs). I'm not gonna dwell on it. It might hurt you if you've only got one hit [on an album]. [But] we definitely have a full package.

How does Warning differ from your past efforts? I think this record definitely has an overtone of independence throughout the whole thing. I think that we've overcome a lot of adversity. We produced this record ourselves and it has a sense of honesty…. There's an overtone of hope to the whole record that says, 'It's up to you to choose to have hope.' And whether or not most people in the world want to admit that they want hope for their world … they do. If you really don't want any hope, well I have friends who didn't want any hope and they killed themselves.

What are some of the adversities that Green Day has managed to overcome? Everybody thinking, 'Here we are today, gone tomorrow.' Friends [thinking], 'They're becoming huge as a band,' and all of the family turmoil, friend turmoil. … I think the adversity is also that this is a Green Day-quality record. Every song on this record is good. And people giving up on rock-and-roll and punk rock ... [We're] being honest with ourselves and remaining who we are and what we are.

And with regards to remaining who you are and what you are, the band caught a lot of sh*t for "Time of Your Life" because.... … it was such a good song. (Laughs) It's funny, because the people who gave us sh*t about that … obviously hadn't heard our first two records [1039/Smoothed Out Slappy Hour and Kerplunk]. Songs like 'Words I Might Have Ate' from Kerplunk and 'Rest' on 39/Smooth [have] touched on -- what can I say? -- our sensitive side. If you reach into your vulnerable side and you bleed on the plate for people, I think that takes a lot more balls than to just go out there a scream your head off and call it punk rock. Punk rock means no limits, no rules and breaking rules -- to us -- and there's a lot of punk rock on this new record. And if you think punk rock is just distorted guitars and hair-dos, you got another thing comin'. You need to listen to "Minority" and "Warning" [both from Warning].

Then can we look forward to songs like "Time of Your Life" and "Words I Might Have Ate" on Warning? No. (Laughs) There's definitely a sense of hope in some of these songs, but it's from a different perspective of where we're at this point in our lives. I'll give you an example: 'Minority.' That's a song about how … my next door neighbor's mom has a nose ring and my other next door neighbor is a jock with green hair. Everybody wants to look different and be different and act different, but ultimately, nowadays, you need to look inside yourself and find your individuality. With 'Minority,' everything has its suit -- its uniform. It's up to you inside to break the mold. With 'Warning,' that's a song about questioning everything. There's this false sense of freedom we have in the United States. There's all these signs tellin' you, 'Don't do this' and 'Don't do that,' and you just gotta read between the lines and figure out, 'What are those things really sayin'? Is it for someone else's convenience that I'm told to not go here, or that I can't do this or that? Or is it because it's really dangerous?'

Green Day traditionally has been trailed by a lot of controversy. What are some of your favorite controversies? It's weird. There are a lot of controversies, but it's a matter of how close to home you take 'em. Obviously, [there's the] whole sell-out thing, and I'm so over that. If selling out is compromising your musical intentions, I don't even know what that means. I guess that's a big one. (Laughs) At one point in my life it was -- now I'm over it. And I think most people are, too. Every time you spend a dollar, you're making that sell-out statement and casting a vote. Like, 'You're gonna slam me for being on a major label, and yet you smoke cigarettes? OK. (Laughs) Your shoe's on backwards, buddy.' Maybe you dug that controversy when Tre [Cool, drummer] climbed the Universal Studios globe after the MTV Video Music Awards. That was my idea. I'm so accident-prone, that I would have fallen off and broke my neck, so Tre did it. (Laughs) I said, 'Why don't you climb that?' and Tre's running up and down and I'm like, 'Good man.' Tre's got balls bigger than that globe, anyway. You gotta let the [music] industry know who's runnin' it -- and that's the artists. What our album is to a lot of people is a product. What our album is to us is our child. And often, when we turn a record over to the record company, when we finish it, it's like handing your child to a nurse after she was born -- all bloody, a purple tail, ready to go. (Laughs)

Have you settled the score on your past "disagreement" with Third Eye Blind? I really don't think anybody can mistake a kiwi for a banana. Third Eye Blind -- that whole thing. I was probably off the hook; I shouldn't have been fighting in the first place [backstage at a festival concert] and whoever hit me [over the head] with a bottle from behind was a f*ckin' coward. I shouldn't have been fightin' and they shouldn't have been fightin', and that's what boys do. To quote Eminem, 'Tomorrow we'll be boys again.' (Laughs)

Since Billie Joe is campaigning for president and you're his vice presidential running mate [and Tre is the ugly wife], what are you gonna do to keep him in line? Oh, he's a lame duck from the get-go. I'll be runnin' sh*t. (Laughs) I'll start out by lowering the price of alcohol and cigarettes, and shortly thereafter, we should take the 'explicit language' stickers off of albums, so f*ck Tipper Gore. I just think kids should be able to buy [the Clash's] London Calling. What kind of crap is that? That was a controversial record that got the explicit lyrics [campaign rolling]. It's the line, 'He who f*cks the nuns/Will later join the church.'

It was extremely magnanimous of Green Day to bring in dominatrix Mistress Simone for Warning's engineer Tone. Are we, then, to believe that the band didn't get spankings all around? Oh, no. I receive my floggings in the privacy of my own home. Under the watchful eye [and sure hand] of my gal. My girlfriend wouldn't have it. [My girlfriend's called] Mistress Sarah.

Where are you guys with the horror film you were planning, and have you signed Gwen Stefani yet? I think we got so involved in the new record that it became more important than anything else. I think we've decided to follow through on our own script that we've been working on, which is a much better script. Except that if I told you any more, I'd have to kill you.

[thebraingremlinsaremad]

Daily Blog #15: August 22, 2021

Dollar Tree is honestly pretty fucking awesome 👌👌👌

I set my alarm for like 6:25 this morning, but it took 6 minutes for the "Horsin' Around" theme song instrumental to wake me up. I was pretty tired lol. I just dismissed it and went back to sleep.

I only went back to sleep because I knew I had another alarm set for 7:00. That got me up.

I should mention that this was still in the RV over an hour away from the house.

After I got up, I went to go get a shower, and did so successfully.

Unfortunately, I had forgotten my brush this time and had to do it afterwards after my hair had a bit of time to dry, which did make it a little more difficult lol.

I got dressed and grabbed my stuff, putting it into my car.

I made it a point to see and say "see you later" to my grandparents before I left for the flea market.

My dad insisted that I stayed to say goodbye to my mom, so I left.

I did NOT have cell service up there, as was mentioned in my previous 2 blogs of which I could only post today, so finding my way was a tiny bit difficult until I got some service to ask Google to take me to "...".

It worked and I got there.

On my drive, I listened to 1 by Simple Kid, a CD I had previously purchased at a Dollar Tree location.

I got a call from the guy at the flea market saying that I had some people there waiting for me. He asked how far away I was, to which I said "about 10 minutes." Ironically, that call made me miss my exit, as Google couldn't talk during the call, and added about 3 minutes to my arrival time lmao.

I did sell the Xbox that he said someone was interested in. I got $40 for it. I spent 27¢ on it. Pretty good return if you ask me.

I couldn't sell it with anything other than a power cord because the controller and AV cables I had been using to play it there were for my personal console. I'm just glad I can actually hook my Xbox up and stop having to drag them to the flea market along with a small library of games.

Not too long after I sold the Xbox, someone came in and asked if I wanted to see some electronics he had in his car. I went out with him. It was a pair of 3ft speakers and a Pioneer audio system with dual cassette decks (although neither of them works) and a 25 Disc CD-changer, as well as the standard AM/FM tuner. Additionally, there was a Fisher amplifier and AM/FM tuner as well as a Fisher Direct Drive turntable. He said he wanted $60 for em, but before that he casually, and probably accidentally, dropped that he was just gonna take em to the thrift store.

Big mistake.

I got em for $35 lmao. THERE GOES MOST OF MY PROFIT.

Oh well.

I tested everything. As I mentioned, the cassette decks don't work, but everything else does apart from the turntable needing a new stylus.

I posted some new photos of the shop to Facebook, and someone soon DMed me about a stereo system.

I priced everything, and it turns out I have about $300 worth of equipment from that deal, the Fisher amp and tuner being worth about $150.

The buyer will hopefully show up next weekend, for he wants to buy the Fisher stuff ($185 with the turntable), the 3ft speakers, an 8-track deck, and a Kenwood deck we've had for a week or two.

The speakers are listed for $50 (and are worth around $100-150), the Kenwood Deck for $50 as well, and the 8-track for $35. That makes it about $320 in equipment. Since he's buying so much, I'll knock it down to $270 and essentially give him the speakers or cassette deck for free lol.

Apart from that stuff, not much happened at the flea market. I sold some records, cassettes, CDs and I think 2 DVDs. One person bought a VHS tape? That money was the other guy's though. Oh well xD.

I can't say that I didn't miss my wonderful partner while on the trip. I actually brought along the stuffed animal they gave me (who's name is Greg) and snuggled with him both nights.

I was very happy to hear from them UwU.

They let me rant and I let them rant.

I honestly give them too much responsibility over me xD. I'm like, "Okay, I'm gonna do this. HOLD ME TO IT."

I know I can't hold myself to anything I personally say (this blog being the only exception apparently), but I listen to them pretty well I think 🤔. If they tell me, "No, you don't need that VCR," so long as it's not some weird specialty thing, like a worldwide VCR 🥵, I'll be like "Yeah, you rite bro."

I love you man xD. You control my craziness pretty well. I'm so thankful for you UwU.

#relationshipgoals

So part way through the flea market day, I went over to Dollar Tree to buy some snack, but ended up looking through the CDs to see if there was anything good. I took photos of about 18 CDs and flipped through them online for the remainder of the flea market day.

I deleted the photos of the ones I didn't want and kept those that I liked. Surprisingly, I ended up buying 13 CDs there, but not before dropping them on the floor like the dumbass I am.

Also, sorry for all the nerd shit I spilled on your lap earlier. No one cares about amps and tuners xD.

I'M LISTENING TO ONE OF THE DOLLAR TREE CDS RIGHT NOW THO.

I already transferred over to my online library on iBroadcast and put the disc into my CD changer, which is now holding 164 CDs.

Its max capacity is 300 discs 🥵

WHY AM I NERD

Oh well

I like being a nerd gurl

Also maybe a technosexual 👀

I get really excited over some electronics. Like. REALLY excited.

Some editing VCRs are like "Holy shit that is SEXY. Look at those goddamn VU meters 🥵. And hhhh there are like 7 inputs on this thing and individual controls for left and right audio gain, not to mention Hi-Fi S-VHS recording. Hhhhhhhhhhh please gimme 😭. Why are you so expensive?"

I uh, mean, uh, *cough* look, pretty lights.

Oh yeah, I was gonna say the album I was listening to xD. MAN I GOT SIDETRACKED.

It's 37 Everywhere by Punchline. Def give it a listen; it's pretty heccin good.

Another notable album I picked up was Page One by Steven Page. I very much like the first track, "A New Shore." It's quite catchy and he has a great voice imo.

Also at dollar tree, I bought a regular bag of Fieras and 2 bags of Fieras Sticks, which were marked down to 75¢/bag because they're expiring soon.

I honestly like the generic Dollar Tree version of Takis more than actual Takis. They're a lot more flavorful when it comes to the lime, but also hotter at the same time.

Don't get the hot nacho ones tho. Hot nacho? More like hot pile of shit.

HAH

Goteem.

They're not that good xD.

THE REGULAR ONES ARE FIRE THO

"How do you do fellow kids?"

I got home and started working on putting the CDs onto my computer, and then onto iBroadcast, but not without first adding The Music Man to my digital library, something I had neglected for a month or two. The CD had just been sitting there lol.

I also switched my digital file for "The Black Parade" to that of the uncensored CD, which I had purchased before I event started working over 2 months ago.

MAN I'M LAZY

I eventually get around to shit tho lol. I guess it's just a matter of priority.

What usually takes priority is digging through everything to find something that I forgot about but then remembered, making a mess in the process that I would then have to clean up, at least partially.

I think the album just ended. I've been writing for a while xD. I'ma start "I Made You Something" by The Island of the Misfit Toys.

I'll tell you where that album came from in a minute.

In the meantime, where was I?

I kinda lost my train of thought despite reading up to see where I was. Oh well. On I go.

I ate dinner and kept working on those CDs, eventually putting my clothes from the week into the washer.

I FORGOT TO PUT MY SHAPING UNDERWEAR IN. FUCKING HELL MAN.

I wanted to wash em for this week 😭

No tight pants for Leonna I guess qwq.

Meanwhile, the box of my CD album cases is overflowing. I need another box.

I keep all of the album artworks in a big CD folder. That's almost full.

I wanna fill my entire CD changer. That's one of my big goals in life. Idk why, but I just wanna legitimately fill the entire thing.

My clothes are in the dryer now. I don't think I have the time (or energy) to fold them tonight. I'll leave that for tomorrow morning before work.

And God. Fucking. Damnit. I start school again on Wednesday. NOT looking forward to that, and neither are my 2 coworkers. We already have low enough staff, but only the two of them working is gonna be a pain in the ass.

I'll still work Saturdays.

I need to contact my guidance counselor to get out of the gym class I signed up for. I scheduled this shit before I found out I was trans, and I don't wanna deal with the fucking locker room situation 🙄 I have far more important matters.

Okay so anyway, the album I'm listening to came from a cassette. I bought this cassette a few months ago at the flea market along with a few others. The reason I bought them? They were all newer cassette releases from the 2010's, and they're all actually pretty good music from very indie bands.

Currently getting mad at iBroadcast's compression algorithm. It's unnaturally fucking anything over -10db up. Oh well, there's not really anything I can do about it.

I have like 13GB of music on my phone btw. That's about 3.5k songs on 268 albums.

I'm kind of an audiophile, but I'm too cheap to pay for a lossless service. Oh well.

They do actually have a lossless service on iBroadcast, but once again, too cheap.

Someone just sent me a friend request who legitimately posted that BLM and the democratic party are hate groups.

BLOCK.

Goodbye ho.

I don't get that. They call the democratic party a hate group when they hate people like me, and I, being more of a democrat although not fully because the 2-party system is fucked, think nothing more of them than they're very wrong about certain things, especially, as shown, that black people, as well as asian, Indian, native, and people of all ethnicities and backgrounds, are not equal to white people.

Yeh.

Totally.

You go buddy.

Anyway, yeah, I can, and do, convert music and video from analog formats to digital files in order for me to archive and listen to whenever and wherever I please. I've actually made a bit of a business out of it, but I don't get too much work from it. At least I'm not overloading myself xD.

I honestly have so much more to say, but I should probably go to sleep soon.

A few final shoutouts to the following people and companies:

-Dollar Tree

-Steven Page

-Broken World Media

-The Island of Misfit Toys

-Simple Kid

-Punchline

-My incredible partner QwQ I love you so much. Thanks for being the best all the time. I hope I can give you the best life ever.

Anyway I suppose this is goodnight. Lmk if you want a full list of the CDs I bought today! I'll link that song by Steven Page here.

And here's a good song from Simple Kid

I really like music lol. Enjoy these pieces.

Anyway, goodnight lol.

Lots of love,

-Leonna.

[andyet-here-we-are]

I Would Get Into Millions of Accidents Just to See You, Chapter 2 (aka Nurse Geralt AU)

(ao3: x

Chapter 1 Tumblr Link: x )

Geralt is not someone who is an active social media user. He has never been.

Hell, he wouldn’t even use WhatsApp if he didn’t have to.

He thinks that apps like this make people so accessible, and leaves little privacy, and ironically, despite it’s called “social media” it makes people less social. He has lost count of how many times he has seen a group of friends sitting somewhere and scrolling through some apps on their phone or something instead of talking to each other.

Of course, it depends on one’s use, but from what he can tell, whenever you’re online, people tend to think that you have all the time in the world.

So no, thank you very much. He likes his privacy.

Whenever he says that “Social media is for people who don’t have nothing better and important to do,” Ciri just gives him The Look ™ and says: “Okay, boomer.”

He has no idea what the hell it’s supposed to mean, but he is sure it’s not something good.

Once Ciri had downloaded some dating app on his phone without his permission while he was sleeping his ass off after a very tiring night shift. That little match-maker of a girl.

And not only that, but also she had said: “I texted some of the users for you! The ones I thought you might like. One of them seemed nice, I like her energy. So, anyway, long story short, you have a date this weekend. You can thank me later.”

“Excuse me, you did what?!”

Needless to say, Ciri wasn’t allowed to use the internet for three days after that.

“I just want you to be happy,”  on the third day, Ciri had said out of the blue while they were reading I, Robot together —they were both into sci-fi, and reading was a great escape from thinking about all the things going on in life.

“You deserve love. Everyone does. Your whole life is nothing but me and your job, and… You deserve happiness, dad. You deserve love.”

“Come here,” Geralt had said, opening his arms wide for her to embrace him, which Ciri had applied.

“I am happy, pumpkin.”

“You could be happier… If there was someone you loved and dated—”

“Ciri, look. Love is… A beautiful thing.” he started ‘Even though it can be hurtful,’ was left unsaid.

“But love doesn’t necessarily mean the affection between a couple. It doesn’t just mean romantic love. Love can be in many forms, shapes, and different ways. Love of self, of animals, of nature, friends, family… We experience love every day when you think about it. You can find it in everything.  Even in a slice of homemade pie that Mrs. April brought us today.”

“I love pie! But dad, I doubt that if a slice of pie can tell you that you look lovely today. A cutie-pie on the other hand—”

“Ciri, have you been even listening to me?”

“…and a pie can’t run their fingers through your hair-”

Geralt sighs, “Why am I even trying?”

“Deep down you know I’m right. Dad… How about you just… give her a chance? For me? Just see how it goes?”

"Is it gonna make you happy if I do that?”

“So happy!”

“And you’re not gonna do something like that ever again.”

“Promise!”

“Not downloading stupid apps on my phone, and not trying to set me up.”

“You got it, Cap!”

Geralt had met with that woman, and they just didn’t click.

True to her word, Ciri never has done something like that again.

***

Geralt is not someone who likes social media.

But there he is, looking at the musician’s posts instead of sleeping—even though he has to get up early as always tomorrow—scrolling through the app, and feeling like a high school girl with a stupid crush.

He reads every little caption the musician had written.

Surprisingly- well, maybe not so surprisingly- his songs aren’t the only thing he posts about.

He posts about random things; sometimes it’s a pretty flower he came across this morning, sometimes it’s a kitten, a book he is currently reading, food recipes, his drawings, things like that.

His account seems like just his personality.

Filled with all the beautiful colors in the word. Filled with joy, and every little thing he shares feels so sincere. Personal.

[I tried that recipe @Brianricci has sent me and it still feels like there are fireworks in my stomach, so here’s a little drawing for you my life-saver pasta-mate.]

That one makes Geralt smile. Reminds him of that day.

***

“I have something for you, Mr. Should Have Been A Model But Became A Nurse For Some Reason. Not that I’m complaining, for the record. The only thing I have complaints about is your hospital’s awful food. So awful that it should be illegal. A sin, even. You’re sinning whenever you guys force people to eat that food. I can only imagine your staff’s weekly confessing: ‘Forgive me father for I’ve sinned.’

‘What’s wrong, immortal one? What did you do?’

‘Oh, father, even bathing myself in holy water can’t cleanse me from my sins! I made my patient eat that awful food, I had to, father! I had to! I had no choice! But I have faith that I can change that one day!’

‘Faith becomes you. Stay with it. Keep fighting the good fight with all thy might.’

God help him this man is so ridiculous.

“Why are you suddenly Anthony Hopkins from The Rite?”

“Eh, just felt like it,” Jaskier shrugs “Your jello is pretty good though, so, good deed point. And your nurses aren’t half bad either, so I heard.”

Jaskier winks at him.

The audacity of that man.

“Anyway! As I was saying, I have something for you—”

“I have something for you, too, Mr. Pankratz,” Geralt says. He has a good guess about what Jaskier has for him.

A drawing of a flower.

He had heard the staff talking about how the pretty patient in room 242 has been giving flower drawings to pretty much everyone while he was walking around.

“Why thank you, you shouldn’t have! You brought some wine for me or something? For the celebration for my third week here? You’re so kind, my good sir.”

“It’s your medicines.”

“…ever the heartbreaker. I take back everything I said. You’re the devil in disguise.”

After Geralt gives him his medicines, Jaskier pulls a scratch book under his pillow and carefully tears a page from it. He gives it to Geralt.

“I thought I was the devil in disguise?” The nurse says as he takes the drawing from him “Are you sure that you should give demons a flower draw—”

Geralt can’t finish his sentence.

Because what he is looking at certainly is not a flower drawing.

It’s a man who holds a syringe in his hand with a kind smile on his face, and the syringe is filled with cute little hearts.

It’s him.

There’s a giant cactus standing behind him for some reason Geralt finds it hard to understand why.

He has seen the other drawings, and they are nothing like this one. This one looks like Jaskier has tried his hardest to make it perfect. Put everything in it. It’s perfect and detailed as if he had drawn it while looking at Geralt. It also seems familiar for some reason.

“—in conclusion, devils are fallen angels, so…” Geralt hears Jaskier talking.

Yet he is too busy to say something as he keeps looking at the drawing in his hands.

“Ooops, did I go too far with the hearts?”

“Hm.”

“Geralt? Say something, please? Oh God, I broke my nurse. They’re sooo gonna sue me. And I don’t think I can afford a good lawyer, I’ll rot in jails, I’m too young to rot in jails, I can’t be someone’s bitch, I’m not even—”

“May I ask why is there a cactus standing behind me?”

“A comment! Phew! Finally! Well, that would be because you’re just like a cactus.”

Geralt raises an eyebrow.

“Better than being a weed, Dandelion.”

Jaskier holds his hand to his chest and gasps, feigning offense.

“Words hurt, Geralt. Words hurt.

I meant it as, like, let’s face it, you’re kinda prickly on the outside sometimes, but soft on the inside? A cactus in the desert.”

Geralt sighs.

“And now you imply that my hospital is a desert. How nice. What’s next?”

“You don’t like it?”

“It’s okay.”

It’s obviously more than okay, but teasing with the young man is fun, and everyone needs some fun in their lives once in a while.

“If you don’t appreciate my drawing just give it back,” Jaskier makes grabby hands as he pouts like a little kid that just dropped his ice cream,  “I’m pretty sure it’ll look good on my fridge anyway. No trouble for me.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

“I’m not giving this back. Too late, you should’ve thought that before you gave it to me. Can’t take it back now.”

“If you don’t say something nice about my spectacular drawing you can be sure that I’m gonna take it back from your hands even if that means putting up a fight.”

“How bold of you to think that you’re in a condition to put up a fight.”

“You’d be surprised. And if I can’t, your other nurse friends and your fellow patients can do it for me. I haven’t been handing out flower drawings for nothing all day.”

“And you say I am the devil in disguise.”

“I never said I was an angel, have I? Seriously though, you have ten seconds to pay a compliment to my drawing. Ten—”

“ ‘Okay’ was a compliment.”

“I beg to differ, since when ‘okay’ is a compliment? Say that to the Italian chef in Mamma Mia when he asks how is the pasta and see if he takes ‘okay’ as a compliment and doesn’t pour half-full pasta plate over your head, and ruin your favorite bee shirt. Also, nine.”

“That was oddly specific. Did that happen to you?”

“Eight, I have no idea what you’re talking about, I was just being hypothetical. Seven, six—”

“I bet he wouldn’t threaten me with taking my meal back if I did at least.”

“Sev— wait a second I was counting backwards, weren’t I? Where were we? Five!”

“Man, you’re really no good at math.”

“Wanna know what I’m good at? Many things, and fighting happens to be one of them. Four, ” Jaskier attempts to get up from the bed, somehow forgetting about his broken leg for a split second and swears: “Ah, cock!”

Geralt barely holds back a laugh at that one.

“Careful.”

“I can still verbally fight you.”

“You’ve been already doing that for the last five minutes.”

“…three.”

“You never give up, do you?” Geralt rolls his eyes with a smile, “It’s a good drawing. I really like it.”

Another lie.

He doesn’t just like it, he loves it.

But even saying that he likes it is enough to make Jaskier beam at him.

“You gave everyone a flower drawing,” he points out  “but I get a cactus and a drawing of myself, why is that? It must have taken some time to draw this.”

“A special drawing for a special nurse.” Not making eye contact, Jaskier says so softly that Geralt nearly misses it. “Yeah, it sure took some time to draw it, and my schedule was so full because of all the crazy hospital parties you guys keep throwing that I could hardly find the time, but eh, I managed somehow.”

“Sucks that they never invite me to that parties,” the nurse jokes back. “Seriously though, thank you. I appreciate it.”            

“I’d like to draw something for Ciri, too. But I’m saving it for later when I can meet her. You didn’t tell her that I’m here, right?”

“She doesn’t know.”

“Good! Keep it that way.”

***

Smiling at the memory, Geralt rises from his bed to take the drawing from his bedside drawer. No, of course he doesn’t look at it every day, what are you talking about?

If he hadn’t promised Jaskier that he wouldn’t let Ciri know until these two can meet in person, this drawing would be on his wall already.

Maybe next to Ciri’s painting of a white wolf.

He had considered doing so but then decided that it would be wise if he didn’t. No doubt Ciri would figure out it was Jaskier’s drawing as soon as she would see it. It was signed by him, after all. Not that Ciri couldn’t figure it out without the signature.

“What the hell, Geralt” The nurse snorts to himself and runs a hand over his face as he imagines his room filled with the drawings of his daughter, and Jaskier’s. “What are you gonna dream about next? Ciri being a flower girl at your wedding?”

Fuck.

He is totally dreaming about it now.

God, it’s crazy how much he misses him, even though he doesn’t really know him.

Ciri already is crazy about Jaskier, and Geralt looks forward to them to meet, to see how Ciri is going to react when she sees him. He feels like the two would talk non-stop, and he would just listen to them talking about God knows what.

He would have no problem with that; in fact.

“I’ll give him a call tomorrow,” he thinks.

He wants to see Jaskier again.

(Thanks for reading! Sorry for the lack of Jaskier in this chapter, but it was like:

-So, it’s time for you to meet Ciri! 

-Hah, well, I love her, but I don’t think so. Not yet. 

-But Ciri- 

-You can have me as a Flashback Guest in this chapter, nothing more. 

-But my plan wasn’t like this. 

-Too bad, I’m my own character.

Let me know what you think please. Have a good day everyone ~ 💛)

[bottleofspilledink]

God's Watching, Put on a Show || Chapter VI

"Hold on, I'll open the garage for you."

Lilith watched as Eve gingerly got off the bike and undid the latch on their fence, scurrying inside.

The two minutes she was gone felt like an eternity of waiting and unbearable silence, but then again, she always felt that way when left alone with her thoughts.

At least this time she had better thoughts to think.

In the quiet, Lilith could still feel the girl's soft, breathy laughter ringing in her ear.

Her shoulder was warm where Eve had pressed her cheek, the white fabric clinging to her skin. While she couldn't see it, she knew the previously pristine fabric that lay straight on her back had been wrinkled by their constant shifting, warm bodies rubbing together with ever gentle sway and cautious turn of the bike.

Each and every one of these thoughts fought to be at the forefront of her mind, til finally, one won.

"Eve has freckles."

The image of Eve's rosy cheek and the side of her small, straight nose, captured only in quick, sidelong glances when her eyes would occasionally flicker over, emerged, clear and vivid like a newly development photograph.

Later, on her ride home, she would sigh and lament her lack of company, thoughts returning to, and longing for Eve.

Her warmth.

Her laugh.

Her hands.

But that was for later.

"Come on in!" Eve said, raising the garage door with a playful flair.

"You can put your bike in here while we're inside."

"Thanks." She didn't know what to say. Lilith honestly hadn't planned this far. Really, all she had hoped for was a few extra minutes with the girl by the bike rack.

"Sorry I took so long," Eve began, "I had to tell mom that I was having a friend over, then she saw my knees, then she saw my hands, and I got myself an earful."

"Crap, really?"

"She doesn't want me using my bike anymore, says I'm too old to be getting my knees scrapped like a kid."

"Doesn't she know that accidents happen?" Lilith kneeled down to disconnect their bikes, fingers tracing mindlessly over the heated metal chains. "Not that it's any of my business, but your mom's acting like she's never been a kid before."

Eve shrugged, "I mean, even if I didn't get into an accident, she'll always find something to say about my bike."

"Why's that?"

"She doesn't like when I ride my bike. Says my legs will get muscles and my veins might show. Says that if I fall I could end up with scars."

"Would that be the end of the world?"

Lilith began to slowly unwind the chain, more careful than she would have otherwise been.

She just wanted a few more moments alone with Eve.

Just a few more.

"That's what I'm telling her!" Eve sighed, slumping down against the garage wall. "But I get where she's coming from; no man wants some buff girl with scars all over her body for a wife."

"So what?" She stood up, whipping her head around to face Eve.

"A few scars here and there won't turn you into some fucking spinster. And even if it did, you're better off alone than with some asshole who'll divorce you as soon as you get wrinkles."

Lilith spoke with a passion she knew she shouldn't be revealing, not to Eve, not until she was certain of her safety.

But she couldn't stop herself.

Just the thought of Eve, kind, compassionate, caring, timid yet witty Eve getting kicked to the curb the moment she was deemed undesirable filled her with this visceral rage she knew she had no right to feel.

Before she realized, before she could stop herself, despite wanting nothing more than to continue, Lilith was next to Eve, clutching her hands as if they were gold.

(And maybe they were worth just that to her. Perhaps even more.)

"You deserve better than that."

The words were out of her mouth in an instant. And while she couldn't take back the tender tone with which she spoke, she could at least be grateful she hadn't said more.

To Lilith's surprise, instead of recoiling with shock and disgust, the girl her squeezed back gently, a smile slowly making it's way onto her features.

"Thanks for the concern, Lilith, really." Eve let go of her hands and took a small step back, an indescribable look appearing in her usually cheerful, brown eyes.

"But I'll be fine."

It was then that Lilith recognized what she saw in Eve's eyes. For it was a look she had seen on herself not too long ago.

Denial.

Desperation.

Anguish.

And... yearning?

What Eve yearned so desperately for, however, she had no clue. Maybe freedom? From her mother, from the life that her mother wanted for her?

"Or maybe..."

No. She refused to finish the thought, unwilling to face another heartbreak so soon after the last.

"I know that God has a plan for me and I know in my mind that if I accept him as my divine ruler, he'll lead me to the right man."

If she weren't utterly crushed, Lilith would have laughed, either out of pity or the burden of knowing the three possibilities that awaited the poor girl before her.

Death by her own hand due to fear, due to sorrow, due to desperation or death by some sick "therapy" that was meant to cure this "ailment" that plagued her.

Misery in a loveless marriage, wasting away with some man she would never be able to love more than a friend, that is, if she was granted the small mercy that was a husbands she didn't completely loathe.

Or she could break away. She could accept who she was and run, never to look back.

Lilith could only hope Eve wouldn't perish too much.

"Anyways, let's go inside. My schedule's in there already."

"Okay."

...

The softness of Lilith's hands were mesmerizing, and Eve longed to run her fingers over her palm, tracing and feeling every indent, crevice, and vein til she could close her eyes and picture them exactly as they were, the warmth that came from her hands nearly making her own melt into it's touch.

But Eve looked temptation in the eyes and denied it, gently prying her hands from it's clutches and making her way back to the path the Lord intended her to take...

No matter how reluctant she was to do so.

She and Lilith were quiet til they reacher her room, their eyes glued to the floor the whole way over.

The silence was suffocating and stifling the both of them as they waited for the other to break it.

She had to say something.

Immediately.

"Here's the schedule. You can sit at my desk while you copy it, I just need to sort my laundry."

"No! That sounded so rude..."

"At least now that my hands are all messed up, mom said she'll just take my clothes to the laundromat along with hers, so I actually have the afternoon off!"

Eve could only hope that her awkward attempt at lightening the mood would be enough to coax the dejection expression off Lilith's face.

"Yeah?" The girl said, her usual teasing making a comeback.

"So I guess you'll want me over every Friday so you can get out of doing work, huh?"

"Hmm, I'll think about it!" Eve teased back and grabbed her clothes bin out of the corner, dumping everything inside it on the floor for her to sort.

"That's good enough for me!"

Lilith plopped herself on Eve's desk chair in the same manner she did with all other chairs: exuding confidence and melting into it as if it were her own.

"Hey wait!"

"Yeah?" Eve separated her white button up uniform from her skirts, two neat piles of cloth by her feet.

"If you guys have the money for the laundromat, why do you even have to laundry your own clothes?"

The girl brought out her notebook, scribbling down the schedule haphazardly.

"I mean, it's important to to learn how to do it by hand incase it's really delicate or something, but you have to laundry your uniforms by hand every week?"

"Uhm..."

"Don't tell me you've never even asked y-"

"I did ask! It's just," Eve quickly buried her white bra in one of the piles as Lilith turned around, "I don't think you'll like the answer."

The redhead let out an exaggerated sigh that echoed through the room.

"Lemme guess, husband?"

"And children."

"Just tell your husband to buy you a washing machine or you'll divorce him."

Eve giggled her usual, reserved laugh, shaking her head while she searched her skirt pockets for loose change or any handkerchiefs she may have forgotten to take out.

"We covered this two weeks ago."

"What? We didn't even know each other two weeks ago!"

"No!" She said, laughter slightly louder. "The divorce and demand thing, dummy!"

"Huh?"

"Sister Jane said in CLE just a while ago: "The wife is not to make demands towards her husband, for it is by God's will that the men lead the women in their relationship." Or something similar to that anyway."

She found two pennies and a gum wrapper, putting them on her bedside table to dispose of later.

"And the divorce thing is pretty self-explanatory. If you were a true Christian, you'd find a way to make your marriage work instead of trying to break the sacred rite that God bestowed unto man."

"I wasn't really paying attention to that lesson."

"You need to!" Eve began folding the clothes with quick, practiced movements. "How are you gonna pass the test if you don't even know what's in it?"

"Just pick the least enjoyable option there, it's usually the right one."

"Okay, and what if the test isn't multiple choice?"

"Then I write down the least enjoyable I can think of." Lilith said, a smug look on her face.

At this point, she had abandoned even the pretense of writing, turning the chair around to talk to Eve as the papers she was copying were simply forgotten on the desk.

"Well sometimes, you have to do things that don't benefit you or aren't fun for the sake of going to heaven and saving your soul."

Now, even Eve had become too absorbed in the conversation to do her chores, her mind was racing to find ways to prove Lilith wrong, all the while trying to ignored how the sun that came in from her window made the girl looked immaculate, hair glinting in the light as she lounged on the wooden chair.

"Well sometimes," Lilith said, getting up and casually strolling over to where Eve sat on her bed before kneeling down in front of her, "you have to do things that benefit you and make you feel happy to make life worth living."

Eve was so caught up in making a retort that she hadn't even noticed how close they were til she opened her mouth, carefully planned response dying on her lips the moment she felt Lilith's breath fanning her cheek.

There was barely five inches between them, but she couldn't be bothered to think about it, instead admiring what was in front of her.

She had such sharp, almost angry features. A tall, bridged nose, defined jawline, fierce brows and a slight widow's peak. But, if she searched for it, there was softness there too. Big, blue eyes, plump lips...

While Eve was lost in thought, it seemed that Lilith realized their closeness too, her usually half lidded eyes widening a fraction, a delicate blush appearing on her cheeks, reaching all the way to her ears and her collarbone.

Lilith had to stop herself from moving away, no longer feeling the need to as Eve seemed fine with it all, pleased even.

The girl kept herself still as a rock as Eve's pretty, brown eyes slowly moved over her, observing, memorizing.

Lilith was able to relax with time, however, shoulders becoming lax as, she too, allowed herself to look at Eve as she was doing to her.

There was so much she had yet to see with Eve. She had never seen Eve angry or indignant, and while she never wished too, she had never seen Eve sad.

So she focused on what she could see now. She was so pretty, Eve. Bright brown eyes that looked like honey when the light hit it just right, soft cheeks dotted with freckles.

Lilith vaguely wondered if there was a pattern to them, eyes shifting while her mind tried to form one.

Eve had such soft, cupid's bow lips, dainty and delicate and kissable...

Despite the both of them being aware of what was happening, they didn't move away from each other, simply content to look at each other in a tranquil silence, their bodies devoid of movement besides the shifting of their eyes, the soft rise and fall of their chests, and the erratic beating of their hearts.

The two girls stayed like that for who knows long, blue eyes staring into brohowawn, brown eyes staring right back.

Was it her imagination, or were they getting closer, and closer, and-

"Eve!" Her mother knocked on the door.

The girls backed away from each other, frantic, the sheets beneath Eve rustling with the sudden motion, Lilith falling onto her back in shock, knees giving out completely.

"I'm leaving in five minutes, so hurry it up, please. Have you finished separating the whites from the colored clothes?"

"A-Almost!"

"I'll be waiting down stairs, I have a bag to put them in so don't worry about that."

Eve listened to her mother's footsteps disappear, shame rising in her like bile.

"We almost..."

...

Lilith scurried back to the desk as Eve swiftly folded what was left of her clothing and left the room, leaving her to wallow in her misery.

What was she thinking?

They were right. Eve wasn't like her, or Joan, or Paula. She knew that she might have been wrong in hoping she was like them, but she risked it anyway.

But more importantly, what was going to happen.

Would Eve report her? Would she get sent to some conversion camp in the middle of nowhere to get "fixed" up?

Lilith could feel her throat shut and her eyes well up.

This was it.

She was going to die.

They were gonna strap her to some chair and electrocute her and pump her full of weird pills and she was going to die.

Lilith scrawled down what she needed to and started to pack up.

Would she be able to lie her way out of this? What was she even going to say when they asked her about what happened? She needed an alibi, she needed-

"Joan."

Joan would know what to do, right?

She always did when it came to this kind of stuff. She'd help her come up with something or, if worst came to worst, she had some friends two towns over where she could crash at while she thoughtful of where to run away to.

Lilith had to hurry though, Joan's parent's would be back by seven and they didn't like having people over for dinner, not unprepared anyway.

But before she could think about the quickest way to get to Joan's house, Eve came back.

"Have you finished writing down the schedule?" Her expression was unreadable, eyes downcast and voice monotone.

"We're having P.E. on Monday in case you didn't read."

"Thanks for the reminder..."

The short walk downstairs was reminisce of the walk up, silent and awkward, but instead of beating herself up for not keeping her mouth shut, Lilith's mind was filled with nothing but dread.

She got on her bike, ready to take off to Joan's house before Eve's voice cut through the deafening silence.

"Lilith?" The girl spoke from behind her, voice wavering.

She couldn't see Eve's face, though she briefly thought that it was better this way. Even if this girl would be the one to bring her death, there was a part of her that still didn't want to see her upset.

"Please... don't tell anything about today, yeah?"

Eve came up behind her, wrapping her arms around her waist, head burrowing into Lilith's shoulder.

"I didn't want it to come to this," Lilith could feel tears dripping down onto her shoulder, Eve's breath now shaky and uneven, "but if you tell the nuns I almost... if you tell them about what happened then..."

The girl's trembling fingers clutched at the sides of her uniform as she tried to recollect herself.

"I'll tell them that you started the fire."

"It's okay." Lilith gently pried Eve's arms off her, turning around to face her, grasping her hands just as she did earlier.

"I won't tell anyone."

She smiled as softly as she could, cupping the girl's face and wiping her tears away with her thumb.

Lilith realized something while Eve sobbed and shook in her arms.

Eve was scared.

Eve was scared, just like she was long ago, if not more so.

"Stop smiling!" The girl swatted her hands away, confused and crying even harder.

"You're supposed to be angry! I just tried to blackmail you!"

"Didn't you say that there's no point in being rude to someone, even if they were rude to you first?"

"Yes, but that's different! If I tell, you could be expelled, or sued, or-"

Lilith cut her off. "And what would happen to you if I told them about what went on today?"

"I won't tell anyone anything, but not because I'm scared of what you'll tell them, understand?"

Eve looked up at her, hiccuping still, though her tears had stopped, calmed by the promise of secrecy.

"I won't tell on you, 'cause I've been where you are right now and, say what you will, but I didn't not like earlier."

The girl had settled now, no more sobs or shaking, a shocked silence taking it's place.

"And technically, I didn't move away either so it's not just your fault."

"Wait, "I've been where you are." What do you mean by that?"

"I'm not- I can't-" She took a deep breath, composing herself as best as she could.

"I'm not That."

Eve let go of her hands, stepping back.

"Thank you for trying to comfort me, but we aren't the same. I'm not like you. I'm not going to live the kind of sinful lifestyle you're living."

Lilith's smile fell, heart shattering with the other's words.

"Okay." She muttered.

What else was there to say?

"Okay." Eve gave a half-hearted smile. "Thank you for not telling, though. I appreciate it."

The girl moved to open the garage doors, stiff, shoulders tense as she fiddled with her hair, a few strands coming off with how hard she tugged.

"Today was a mistake, and it won't happen again."

Every word she said felt like a stab to the chest. Lilith could feel the tears from earlier making a comeback and she gripped her handlebars for dear life, trying to will away the tears.

"Okay."

She could only hope Eve didn't hear the crack in her voice.

"Thanks again." Eve's voice was so perky, smile widening with every moment that passed.

"Is she really this happy to have me leave?"

"I'll see you on Monday!"

And with that, Lilith fled, peddling as fast as she could away from Eve.

...

Eve watched her disappear down the road, her hushed, hurt "okay" playing again and again in her mind.

The second she was gone, she slammed the garage door closed, sinking down and sobbing even strong than she had earlier.

"I'm sorry." She whispered to no one, to everyone, to herself, to Lilith.

"I'm so sorry."

______________________________

Taglist: @anon-nom-nom95 @littlemisscalamity @melpomenismask @phillyinthebathroom

[jarofrebuke-transcripts]

Jar of Rebuke Episode 2 Unofficial Transcript

Season 1 Episode 2: Snipe Hunt

INTRO

The following audio recording is classified documentation for Case [audio distortion] with the Enclosure. Unauthorized access to this information will lead to immediate intervention. Progress further if proper clearance has been given.

JARED

Been a bit since I've done this, but man, what a week! First, I've been working with Dr. Castillo for a couple of weeks now. She's not bad by any means, but she's... well the kind of “always chipper” that comes off with a seething rage just below the surface. She always smiles with gritted teeth and is pretty passive aggressive. I mean passive aggressive for it to be notable around these parts. But I do really like her sarcastic wit. Most of our conversations are more like bickers, but we were able to finish up that research really quickly when she came on. Very intelligent, zero complaints about her skills. But I guess neither of us wanted this work partnership thrusted upon us, but that's how Todd runs things. We're making it work but I think we're both a little less than thrilled with the sudden change. When there's no work to do, she goes off and does her own thing in the lab of her computer. She keeps looking at me but doesn't say anything. It's always brief glances, but never pleasant. I don't think she hates me, but more like she really doesn't like the situation that we're in. I mean I can't blame her- she seems far more pleased with the job that she had before the sudden transfer. She wasn't working as directly with the dangerous creatures previously. I don't even think they gave her a pay raise for compensation. I don't even think anyone in the Enclosure really gets hazard pay.

Anyways, things got really nerve-wracking a few days ago when I had no projects, no anything to work on while on shift, which never happens. I was desperate for something to do so I actually went into town after work and just walked, kinda aimless mostly, but seeing and hearing everything in town was nice. More stimulating than the buzzing lab lights. I did maybe four or five laps around the downtown roundabout in total. Not in a row, I stepped into different shops as I meandered so I didn't look too weird looking for something to do. It was late afternoon so the heat was a bit much to just stand around outside anyways. Wouldn't have been so bad if it wasn't so humid. First shop I went into was Mrs. Weddington's little bakery. Dr. Rahal loves that place. They've even swapped recipes, apparently. I haven't heard anyone use his first name so often till I started to frequent that bakery. Amir. It's weird to call him that but he said it's all right. As long as I'm not in his medical office for a checkup or whatever he said he's fine with a first name basis relationship.

Anyways, I went to Mrs. Wedington's bakery to pick up some snacks. She told me that the local charity snipe hunt tournament to support the local school was coming up in the next day or so, and she planned to bake a bunch of different things for it. Dr. Rahal... uh, Amir, planned on helping out with it. Not a lot of people in the enclosure go out and actively participate in town events, but he loves to do so. I've heard of the local charity snipe hunt tournaments the last few years but had never really asked about them. So I finally did. She explained that every year the town comes together for the big snipe hunt where everyone meets up in the late evening with, with bags and little noise makers for the hunt. But there's food first since no one should snipe hunt on an empty stomach. Tournament group leaders will lead groups out and explain what the snipe looks like. Eventually one person is left alone in the woods or fields that they're searching and has to use the bag and sound maker that they're given to defend themselves and make their way back. Only group leaders know who is to be left behind and they have to inform everyone else in the group for them to abandon the chosen person and return to the main event. The first duped person back wins a prize and the last duped person back suffers a punishment that varies from year to year. A rite of passage, she said. I asked what these “snipes” looked like and she told me it changes every year. “Depends on whatever the tournament group leaders are feeling that year,” she told me with a warm, almost excited smile. When she'd realized I'd never been to one she said that “I simply must!” Sure, I'm not really one for community events like this but Dr. Rahal always seems happier when he's more involved. Even for an employee of the Enclosure he's still pretty engaged with and welcomed by the townsfolk in Wichton. So, I signed up, like an idiot. Okay, not an idiot, but my luck proved itself.

So I went to the event, made my donation to the school, and I even tried to cook something to bring, but I'm not... I'm not a bad cook, I can cook, I just don't really like cooking. I prefer going out and supporting the restaurants and places in town and bringing the food home. But I did try, and I made some cookies, and they didn't end up being too bad, they were well received. Though I was told they could have done with a bit more, um, “huh, I don't know what's missing, they're still good though!” is what they said. Probably love or a bit of this, a bit of that. You know, the usual missing ingredients. I was put into a team with Holly Darling as the leader, and while Holly is a great person, they have an amount of energy that I have no clue how to keep up with. So it was me, Holly, and a bunch of high schoolers. I'm not terrible with kids but I'm not experienced with kids. At least not kids with normal eyes that don't just wander the sides of the road or knock on my door on and off for hours in the middle of the night. So I just fully let Holly take the lead. Followed with my burlap sack I was given and my flashlight in hand since it was starting to get dark. I walked behind the kids into the woods by the creek on the edge of the fields as Holly described the “snipe” that we were looking for- a sort of rodent-esque creature with the markings of a skunk, but a build more like a small dog. I couldn't tell if they were just pulling this out of their ass or not, but the teens were all on high alert for it. One had a slide whistle, another had a sort of clicker that they used to click out various things to try and stir up any sign of this mysterious snipe. In my time at the Enclosure, I've never heard or read of a snipe, so if it's a real thing then it isn't even on our radar. That doesn't mean it's not real, and that doesn't mean it's not dangerous. It just means I went into this thing totally unprepared.

As the search continued, I actually got pretty into it. Sure, I was going against a bunch of literal teenagers to catch something that I never did get an answer if it even exists, but I actually got pretty competitive. Whether it was to make up for my subpar cookies or because it was something to do, I don't know. But I got so sucked into the search and trying to best these heckling jerks of kids that I didn't even think twice when Holly whispered a bit louder than needed- “over there, the bushes, I see its tail!” (nervous laugh) I threw myself into that bush with the bag, I didn't even think i just grabbed and tried to catch whatever I could grab. What I caught was a bunch of leaves and twig that snuck behind my glasses and poked me in the eye. No living creature, no snipe. I didn't even hear laughter, which is what I'd expected to hear. When I looked up they were all gone. I never even heard or saw them take off, absolutely zero sign of them. There one second, gone the next. And I realized I was duped. I was the dupee, a dupee with a sore eye.

As soon as I realized my situation I brushed myself off and with the utmost composure, started the trek back to the main event. Survived my rite of passage, right? I’d be more part of things, right? Jumping into that damn bush would have to be worth something. But as I made my way towards the edge of the woods I realized I was suddenly much farther from the tree line than I originally was. At that point I couldn't even see the tree line anymore, but I knew what direction I had to go so I started back from where I came. I started to fidget with the burlap sack to keep my hands occupied as I walked, the sound of the cicadas in my own footsteps were all I could hear. I was more frustrated than anything. Of course I was the one ditched. I thought they would pick one of the kids, let them have their laughs and go from there, but I guess they'd get better laughs if it was someone else they could focus on together. Huh, nothing brings a community together better than casting collective judgment. As I walked back towards the tree line I eventually heard the sound of something walking behind me. I could tell there was a good distance between me and the sound but I don't like surprises. I turned around as quickly as I could and saw one of those three-eyed deer with perfectly symmetrical yet overgrown horns, and slightly humanoid hind legs. Not too uncommon in these parts, not usually much of a threat, but still unsettling to see up close. They took me a while to get used to, but this line of work desensitizes you pretty quick.

Those in town know to avoid these deer, other creatures in the woods know to avoid them too, so I should have backed off sooner. We locked eyes for what felt like hours, however long it actually was I don't know. I didn't feel threatened at first, more like I was being analyzed. But then I heard a voice in my head.

[echo-y voice] “Run.”

So I did. Not immediately, as I normally would have and definitely should have, but after one or two awkward steps away the deer bucked up and made like it was gonna charge. So then I took off. I don't know if the deer got territorial or startled or what but I didn't have time to try and figure that out at the moment. I ended up dropping the bag and flashlight and just sprinted as fast as my legs would take me towards the tree line that had only just then started to come back into view. It was definitely dark but my eyes had adjusted pretty quickly to take in what light they could from the moonlight.

[echo-y voice] “Faster.”

No matter how fast I forced my legs, the sound of hooves against the dirt and leaves were never too far behind. In fact in mere moments it was right behind me. And then I felt something slam into my back, hard. I was sent flying forward and skidded across the ground. I had never had a violent encounter with one of these deer before, but when the snipe hunt tournament leaders spoke about returning and surviving. Well... what was it about that day that made it special for them to host it on? I mean the same time every year in the same part of the woods? In the same parts of the fields. What was making the deer more volatile instead of fleeing or just staring like they tended to? I'd seen them buck but they'd never charged me. I wasn't wondering that then, of course. No, then I was scrambling back onto my feet. I'd even lost my glasses for a bit but I found them again pretty quickly, when my hand slammed down on top of them in my rush up and definitely broke part of them. Speaking of breaking, it definitely felt like the damn knot deer broke something when it bucked me or at least cracked a few ribs. They do pack a good hit when angered. Looking back I'm surprised it had stopped after hitting me just once. As if it had made its point.

[echo-y voice] “Get out.”

So with my busted glasses in hand, I booked it past the tree line and took off into the fields. In the distance I could see the lights and the bonfire and the rest of the attendees, mostly the remaining chaperones and the parents of those kids who were out on the hunt at that point. Some kids, including those that had duped me in the woods, were near the fire. No one seemed to notice me at first. And they're hurting... it hurt so much to run. And I did what you're never supposed to do and looked back over my shoulder as I ran to see if the deer was still there. It was but it just stood by the tree line. It stood still as stone, and many other of those multi-eyed not-deer were standing next to it. It could have been a whole herd of them, all watching as I rushed back to the group. All standing on their more humanoid hind legs, watching, watching as I ran back. I heard some sort of banshee screech from the woods echoing over the field which caused me to hoof it faster. But no one else at the party seemed to even react. Had they not heard it too? Sore eye, sore back, and sore lungs from the exertion. I hate this flesh prison sometimes. Eventually Holly called out my name. Their voice was obviously loud but it was hard to hear over the sound of blood rushing behind my eardrums. The fear is never dying, considering I know I'll always come back, but that doesn't mean that the pain of death doesn't suck! When the whisper in my head tells me to run, I run. Who would be stupid enough to ignore that instinct?

Once back to the gathering I was mostly relieved that the deer had stayed in the forest. But it didn't pass my attention though while I wasn't the first dupee back, I wasn't the last one either. That caused a sense of relief but to a much lesser extent. I put back on my glasses which don't fit too well anymore. One of the arms is hardly attached now. I'm gonna have to file for a better replacement pair than the spares that I'm wearing right now. But the Enclosure takes its sweet time actually getting people their replacement glasses and things like that. It wasn't until I started to get the various congratulations and two firm pats on my very tender back and handshakes from people, that I really came back into the moment. I saw Dr. Rahal, Amir, over by the food tables with Mrs. Weddington, both smiling and laughing. When Holly came and congratulated me saying they wish they'd recorded me leaping into the bush, I saw over their shoulder that Darius was there with his dads, talking to some of the other farmers in town about something or other. All smiling, all having a good time. I saw other people just enjoying the night, waiting for their kids to come home. But with the way the deer had reacted to me, I could not help but wonder why. I didn't find myself too worried about the other kids, but I was worried about why the deer were acting rather... uncharacteristically. They normally weren't so hostile, especially not when it's just a lone deer like it had been at first. I mean usually the worst you get with an encounter is a harsh stare down and a twisting in your stomach, but they don't normally attack like that. At least I'd never been attacked before and I've definitely seen them before. I even asked one of the other group leaders why they picked this time of year for the hunt. Was it the weather? Tradition? The answer was indeed tradition. It had always been done this day of the year, sometimes would even cancel school for it the next day. So why change it? Why change what has worked for so long? We don't often change traditions. Point taken, I guess.

I ended up gravitating towards Darius and his circle. I didn't necessarily join in on the conversation, I just stood nearby with my cup of hot apple cider from his family's farm and listened. They really hadn't heard the scream, or if they did they just weren't acknowledging it. Either option was equally likely and I didn't like that. Darius eventually noticed me and came over to talk which helped my nerves a bit. He asked about my glasses, mentioned that my eye looked swollen, and I just told him that I fell on my way back. He asked if I was alright and I was actually honest with him! A little shaken, a little sore but all right. He offered to drive me home but it wasn't a long drive home and I didn't have much energy to socialize anymore. And I really just wanted to melt in my bed and sleep, the pain in my back really wasn't helping my frayed nerves. I also really didn't want to have to come back here to retrieve my run-down car later. Darius said he understood but if I changed my mind to just let him know. I smiled and thanked him and then finished my cider.

I ended up heading home before the last dupee returned. When I got home I was met with another one of those black eyed children at my door. It was seated at my doorstep and stared at me the entire time I made my way from my car to the front door. It made its unintelligible whispers that eventually turned into some monotone requests for shelter. But I just avoided eye contact and went inside. The taps on my door were louder than usual. That with the pain in my back and my ribs made it hard to sleep. And it was like that for days- taps and pain, tossing and turning in bed to get comfortable, covering my head with my pillow to block out the sounds. Apparently the loser of the snipe hunt just suffered some heckling from his peers, nothing too severe, at least in my book. Damn kid didn't get bucked by a damn deer, should be grateful.

And that leads to today. On my way home from some errands in town after work I saw a singular deer in my yard. It was a normal deer, two eyes, asymmetrical antlers, much smaller than the ones in the woods that I saw a few nights back. But when I made eye contact with the deer in my yard, I heard that whisper again

[echo-y voice] “Don't look back next time.”

And then it took off, like some messenger just trying to leave after following orders. It pranced out into the fields and kept going until I couldn't see it anymore. The headaches still linger, I think any worsening was just from the run-in with the deer, or being run into by the deer, I guess. Whatever had angered the deer that night, I couldn't help but feel like there was almost a sense of warning to it. Not a territorial warning, but a warning of something else. That deer easily could have stomped me into the dirt and left me for dead if it had wanted, but it had just wanted me out. Why?

Work has kicked back up again, and there's some energy signature that keeps moving about the cornfields then they keep picking it up and saying that it's much stronger than the usual bursts they see in those fields. And they want Dr. Castillo and I to look into it. Tomorrow is going to be a much longer day at the office, but I much prefer being busy than bored. I might have to see Amir again about the pain in my back, but it's gotten better over time so I might not even worry too much about it. I almost wish the deer had killed me, at least I could have come back close to fully healed. What's a few more scars anyway, it's not like anyone ever sees them.

I'm gonna go take a hot bath to see if that helps my back any. I might see if I can find anything on what might be causing the heightened aggression from the not-dear, just ignore the tapping on my door while I can, try and get some reading done. I'll talk to you later. This is Dr. Jared Hel, signing off, again. [tapping sounds]

OUTRO

Jar of Rebuke is written and produced by Casper Oliver, who is also the voice of Dr. Jared Hel. Disembodied voice provided by Cecil Fox. The intro is read by Vanessa Rosengrant, and credits are read by Ashley Craft, who has also created the podcast official graphics. Music was created by Luke Menniss, spelled m-e-n-n-i-s-s, who you can find and support on Bandcamp, Spotify and Twitch. Find us on Twitter, Instagram and anywhere else you get your podcast fix for more Jar of Rebuke and also to get updates on upcoming official merch for our show. Support projects by this crew on Patreon to further other queer-lead projects and get neat perks. All donations are appreciated and will grant further clearance to special Jar of Rebuke content. You can also make one-time donations on Ko-fi. And special thanks to our patreon supporters Becky Thompson, Perry Bruns, and Tristan Fraud.

[thecursedhellblazer]

At the Edge of Nowhere

(( So, guess who went ahead and scratched that crazy itch I got yesterday? Yep, Scotty did. It turned in a small fic instead of a drabble, since apparently I had more to play out than I initially thought, but...here it is. I took the chance to experiment a bit with the writing style too, while I was at it, ‘cause...why not? ))

(( I’m not really sure of where the idea came from, I just really wanted them to have interact, somehow, without inventing something too complicated. And this was the result. Also, it doesn’t mean that I won’t try to shove Five into John’s universe or vice versa at some point, but for now I’m good with this xD ))

(( Sharing just in case anyone is in the mood for some random oddity! ))

(( I even posted in on Ao3 if anyone wants to have a look at it there! ^^” ))

They sit side by side, watching the eternal sunset of Eternity stretching before them, swinging their feet past the edge of the Abyss, unfazed by the danger of its depths. The darkness seems to be threatening to suck them down, condemning them to an endless fall, and yet they pay it no mind, each of them far too interested in sipping and enjoying his drink.

The silence floods past them, over them, through them, carrying the whispers of their lives. However, for this ephemeral moment, they are given the almost unique chance to ignore them. It’s a rare gift, one that deserved to be savoured, like a fine well-aged vintage. Like the ambrosia that the ancient gods, legit and false, so much have lauded.

And so they sit, the Boy and the Fool, side by side, on the edge of the Abyss.

The atmosphere is almost companionable, as much as it can be when shared by two strangers who carry with them too much baggage. A past and a present that are too dark, too painful. There’s as much kinship and understanding between them as there’s mistrust.

They let the quietness linger for a while, listening only to the taste of the alcohol that coats their tongues, knowing that the stasis won’t last. Neither of them is good at keeping his mouth shut when something is making their skin itch.

“Th’ ‘ell ‘s a lad like yeh doin’ in such a place?” The Fool finally asks, turning his eyes away from the magnetic horizon and landing them on his unlikely companion.

The Boy scoffs. Why is it always the same old story with everyone he meets? “I’d watch my fucking tongue if I were you, young man,” he shoots back, with a withering look. “I’m far older than I look. And I’m older than you for sure.”

A half laugh rises with a small cloud of smoke, but it dies in the matter of seconds as the seriousness of those declarations settles in.

“Blimey. Yeh ain’t pullin’ me leg, are yeh? ‘Ow old are yeh s’posed to be den, mate?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding? Trust me, mate, I’m not. I’m fifty-eight. And I’m stuck in the body of a thirteen-years-old. There’s nothing funny about it.”

“Bloody ‘Ell. Fifty-eight n’ still a lad? Tha’s...insane. I dun envy yeh. Nay.”

The Fool shakes his head, but, despite the lingering astonishment, there is a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Tell us, tho. Woh’s yeh secret? I gots me diabolical trick to slow down agin’ n’ all, but it obviously ain’t workin’ as well as yehs.”

“I got stuck in the future for forty-five years and, when I finally figured out the equation to go back to my time, I missed a typo and...this is the result.”

“Soddin’ math. ‘S one o’ th’ bloody reasons why I ne’er managed to get alchemy rite. T’in’s keep blowin’ up in me face.”

“Sodding math indeed. Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

They clink their glasses together and go back staring at the frozen skyline. Two sets of blue eyes. Different shades of the iris, similar heaviness burdening them.

The Boy steers his drink with his straw, lips pursing pensively. “Speaking of things that suck, what is this place exactly? Am I dreaming? Or did I accidentally take some of my brother’s drugs and this is like the most boring trip in history?”

The Fool scoffs. “Gonna pretend tha’ yeh didn’t jus’ insult me too, together wit’ dis soddin’ place.”

His gaze wanders for a split moment, touching their motionless surroundings. “Ah, I dunno, mate. Could be yeh dream, aye. Could be mine. Or maybe we bot’ stepped inside another real wit’out noticin’ n’ ‘ere we are. Wouldn’t be th’ first time for me. Won’t be th’ last either.”

“I’ve never been in another world. I’ve travelled through time, maybe a bit too much, and I’ve rushed through the fabric of space but this…” The Boy waves his free hand. “This is new. It’s easier to think of it as a dream, so I’d go with that, if you don’t mind. The last thing I need is another headache.”

“Wohe’er works wit’ yeh, mate. I get it. At times, ‘s be’er pretendin’ life ain’t real. ‘S good for yeh mental sanity. Even if yeh got none left.”

The Fool takes yet another drag from his cigarette. Curiously enough, it doesn’t seem to be shortening, even if the ash falls down on his trench coat.

“One t’in’ I can tell yeh ‘bout dis place, tho. It ain’t somewhere e’eryone can visit. Yeh gotta carry some serious shite wit’ yeh to ‘ave stumbled in ‘ere. Do yeh?”

The Boy shrugs. “Maybe? I kept pushing and pushing, even after my father had told me not to and I ended up after the End of the world. I heard the bastard’s voice echoing in my head for the past forty-five years.” He makes his voice thicker for a moment. “I told you so, boy. I told you so. Asshole.”

A long sip from his drink, as if he is trying to wash away that intrusive voice from his ears, before he continues.

“I worked for this organisation that monitors the timeline for a while as a trained assassin. They made me into the perfect killer, a tool for their plans. I had my goals, though, since the start. I took their deal just so that I could go back to try to stop the Apocalypse and save my family. We ended up breakin the world anyway, so I dragged them all back in time to try again. Of course, all that shit followed us. Because it’s never that easy, is it?”

The Fool nods and the Boy can tell that his companion knows that sort of feeling far too well. It’s nice to be fully understood, for once. Even if the understanding comes from a nameless stranger he’ll probably never see again. Assuming that their meeting is truly happening in the first place.

“So...We saved the world this time but broke the timeline. And now my childhood home is gone and me and my siblings are stuck in a timeline that holds no place for us anymore. I’m still trying to figure out how that’s supposed to work. Oh, and that bastard of my adoptive father is hunting us down using the kids he adopted in our place. It’s a real mess.”

There’s bitterness colouring his voice, the embers of a fight that’s too stubborn to die just yet, but the exhaustion is stronger.

“Though, between you and me...All I really want is a decent nap and a dozen more drinks. Maybe get a dog too. Not necessarily in that order.”

The straw produces a light slurping sound as he takes the next sip. “What’s your story? You must have one too, since you’re here...wherever here is.”

The Fool tips his head, in a sign of acknowledgement. No comments follow the tale, and there’s no real need for them there, out of time and space.

“Grew up in me own particular version o’ ‘Ell. Me oul man was th’ fuckin’ opposite o’ ‘father o’ th’ year’...So, I ran in my teen years, still thinkin’ I coulda owned th’ world. Stuck me nose in e’ery bloody t’in’ tha’ was magic n’ occult. One nite I got too cocky and damned an innocent girl to Hell. Earned a bloody place wit’ me name down there too in the process.”

The voice that spells out the words is casual, but there’s something haunted in his expression, darkening his eyes.

“Spent all me life tryin' to make up for tha’ bloody mistake. Ended up messin up meself and most o’ me mates n’ th’ people who ‘ad th’ ‘orrible o’ puttin’ their faith in me as a result. Girl’s still in ‘Ell, th’ bloody Devil ‘imself gots an eternal grudge against me, I gots demon blood in me veins n’ me soz arse ‘s still damned. I might not be a professional like yeh, but I bet I gots jus’ as much blood on me ‘ands. N’ even more souls on me conscience.”

The ice clinks against the transparent walls as the glass is lifted. More sourness to wipe away the one that the words have left on his tongue.

“Nowadays, ‘s mostly me, meself n’ I. Me best mate, too, from time to time. No clue o’ ‘ow he survived bein’ by me side for so long. ‘M still tryin’ to make t’in’s rite, but...for th’ most I jus’ try to be there to do th’ bloody dirty job no self-appointed ‘ero gots th’ time to do. I might be lost, past th’ point o’ no return, but there are lots o’ people out there who aren’t yet. Th’ fuckin’ least I can do ‘s tryin’ to ‘elp ‘em, aye? Make dis soz existence o’ mine wort’ more than misery n’ destruction.”

A drag from his cigarette and there’s a small hand landing on his shoulder, in a brief pat, before he has finished sucking the smoke in. The light pressure says more than a thousand words could.

“Between you and me, tho...I could use a dozen drinks too. Maybe more. N’ a bloody vacation. To sod off somewhere, even for jus’ a day. Maybe take me best mate n’ dis other lad I know. Oh, he could use a break too, th’ poor sod.”

The Boy makes a sound of agreement and he is back stirring his drink. “What a pair we make, you and I. And I don’t even know you.”

“I ‘ear tha’ loud n’ clear, mate. Bloody loud n’ bloody clear. Woh’s tha’ yeh drinkin’ anyway?”

“What? You ne’er seen a margarita? Where the hell are you from? England or Mars? Come on, try it.”

“Oi, I know woh a fuckin’ margarita is, oul man. Yehs jus’ a bit...flashier than woh ‘m used to.”

“Special recipe. I perfected it myself.”

“Now, tha’s more like it. I like a bloke who can make ‘is own drinks. There. Yeh like g n’ t?”

The glasses pass from one hand to another and then they both turn to look back at the unchanged horizon, holding each other’s drink.

A moment to sniff the liquors, in unison, and then the Boy dips his lips in the clear spirit while the Fool wraps his mouth around the straw. The tastes mix in the silence and it’s a symphony of citrus and sourness, with just the right amount of sweetness coming at the end.

“So, what happens now?” The Boy asks, after a moment.

The Fool shrugs. “Ah, I guess we wait till all dis fades. Or till we do. ‘S always ‘ard to tell when it comes to dis sort o’ shite.”

A huffs, with the faintest hint of irritation. “For someone who’s supposed to know a lot about this stuff, you give the worst cryptic answers. I can’t tell if you’re that ignorant or if you’re just fucking with me.”

A nudge in a smaller, slender side and a sharp smirk. “Who knows, mate. Yeh guess ‘s as good as mine. Keep th’ drink. I gots more back where I come from. Consider it a safe trip back home present. I’ll keep yehs as a reminder.”

“A present from a guy I never truly met? And a reminder of something we didn’t even speak about?”

“Nay. Jus’ th’ memory o’ some peace n’ quiet in decent company.”

“Fair enough. I can drink to that.”

[saint-of-los-angeles]

Key to Your Heart

Summery: Keying your ex’s car is somewhat of a ‘rite of passage’ when you find out that your boyfriend is cheating on you. Just remember to make sure that the car is, in fact, your ex’s

Pairing: Nikki Sixx x Tommy Lee

Warnings: THERES SMUT IN THIS ONE YALL. WHO AM I?

Listen I wrote this with @merryy-go-round and can I just say I fucking love her? She’s so talented and inspires me to write so GOD BLESS HER CAN I GET AN AMEN?

Tommy wasn’t an insecure guy, honestly. But there’s something about walking into the bathroom to take a piss, and seeing your boyfriend of almost a year, the one that brought you to the fucking party in the first place, with some chick bent over a toilet that makes you want to die.

In his hazy state of mind, he didn’t know if he was more hurt, or more livid.

But as he shoved his way through the drunken, sloppy party guests, and listened to Michael desperately calling his name behind him, he decided that yeah. He was pissed.

Tommy had always tried to be a good boyfriend, he cooked Michael dinner after a long day at work, never complained when Mike was ‘too busy’ to make it to one of his band’s shows, and he always fucking put out for him, even when he got nothing out of their sex life anymore.

But his loyalty and efforts had clearly gotten him fucking nowhere, and as he pushed his way out the front door, he tried to take a deep breath of the warm California night air to convince himself that this was fine.

Tommy took his time walking down the darkened LA roads, he had no real destination in mind- where the fuck was he gonna go anyway? He sure as hell didn’t want to go back to the apartment he shared with Mike- that was out of the question, too many memories of happy times before shit started going south.

Instead, Tommy just turned down roads he had never heard of, just walking and walking with the hope that the farther away he got from Michael, the smaller the hole in his heart would get.

Tommy isn’t that fucking lucky though, and as he turned the corner to yet another nameless street and his eyes met the bumper of a car he would know fucking anywhere.

A quick glance around his surroundings had him hit with the realization that he was standing outside of a liquor store, and isn’t that just fucking typical.  Parked right in front of him in the small alley next to the shady store was the black Volkswagen that had driven him to the party to in the first place.

Not only did Mike humiliate him in front of a party full of random strangers, fuck some drunk chicks brains out over a toilet, and completely shatter both his pride and his heart in the same fucking day, but after that he decides to go get some more alcohol to keep the party going?

Fucking asshole.

Tommy didn’t know if it was the heartbreak and rage boiling inside his guts, or the alcohol that was making his head swim, but either way he wasn't even consciously controlling his actions as he pulled out the key to the apartment he shared with his ex and dropping to his knees to carve his sorrow and anguish into the dented metal.

For him to give up on chasing Tommy to go get more booze? Was he really so easy to give up on? A year of his life he wasted on that guy, who clearly couldn’t be bothered with Tommy’s heartbreak. Pure anger and loathing was coursing through his veins, and maybe it was childish, but fuck it. If Michael wants to act childish and immature, then he would act childish and immature right back.

———-

Nikki wanted nothing more than to just go home and relax after the grueling shift that he had just endured. Getting underpaid to argue with drunks, junkies and stupid fucking teenagers all day? Not exactly what Nikki had planned for himself, but a job is a job. Besides it beats working corner jobs, and he prefers to be able to afford to buy actual food.

He walked out of the rear exit, door slamming behind him as he walked towards the parking lot. He had been in the middle of stuffing his lighter in his pocket, freshly lit cigarette resting between his lips, when he stopped in his tracks.

Who the fuck was messing with his car?

It wasn’t like he had a fancy car. He had bought it after his Chevy Bel Air had died on the interstate, and half the time the engine wouldn’t even turn over, but who was this fucking stranger to think he could just get away with fucking with Nikki’s shit like that?

His first instinct was to alert the scumbag to his presence, and maybe kick his ass, but his curiosity won out. So instead he stood back to look at the man who was now carving a very shaky ‘t’ on his driver side door. Upon further inspection of the scribe he could make out the words ‘Fuck you for breaking my heart’.

Wait, what? Nikki’s anger melted into confusion as he looked at the man again. Who was this guy? Sure he wasn’t a ‘settle down’ kind of guy but he couldn’t recall any recent conquests that would be the cause for someone to claim heartbreak?  Nikki’s mind was reeling, but before he could dwell on this for too long the younger man shakily stood up.

As he stared at the lanky form, who was now standing back to admire his  artwork, Nikki couldn’t stop himself from commenting, “Babe, I don’t remember breaking your heart, and trust me I think would remember that ass.”  

At Nikki’s gruff voice, Tommy jolted as if he had been hit by a bolt of electricity. Turning around Tommy began to look back and forth between the, now damaged, car and Nikki. Dropping the key that was in his fist, he threw his hands up to cover his face, but not before Nikki could catch a glance at his mortified expression paired with the swollen features that clearly came from crying.

He was young, probably younger than Nikki, but only by a few years. Face framed in brown, curly hair, Nikki took note of the red rimmed eyes and felt his chest tighten. This fucker just keyed his car. Why the fuck did he care? Nikki didn’t know, but the kid just looked so distraught, and Nikki found himself wanting to change that.

“This cannot be fucking happening. Oh my god, dude, please tell me that this isn’t your car, I am so fucking sorry. You’re totally gonna beat my ass, fuck fuck fuck-” As the curly headed strangled continued to ramble, Nikki slowly started to step closer and decided to put an end to the younger man’s tangent.

Nikki was no stranger to getting caught doing stupid shit, and he wasn’t going to make this guy feel worse when he was clearly acting out of heartbreak.

“Chill out man, I’m definitely not going to beat you up. Just stop freaking out.” Tommy’s panic fueled words were cut short immediately, and he slowly lowered his hands from his face. Still holding his breath out of instinct, ready for the first hit that he was still expecting.

Instead his eyes were met with the sight of Nikki barely containing a smile as if the situation was hilarious. “What is wrong with you? Some stranger fucks up your car and you don’t even yell at them?” Tommy half-shouted in exasperation. His arms were flailing as he talked and he stumbled back a bit, and Nikki’s smile grew a little when he realized the man in front of him was probably drunk. This poor kid was fucking adorable.

“Well, would you like for me to yell at you?” Nikki replied in a teasing, light hearted tone at the sight of the other’s inner turmoil. He was too fucking cute. “I mean, no, but, like-” Tommy started again, before he could get too worked up again, Nikki was quick to redirect.

“I promise I’m not mad, it was a mistake. Besides, I'm not one to pick fights with pretty boys like you.” He stated with a wink. Not giving the other man time to react to his words, Nikki continued.

“Besides this car is a piece of shit anyways, and so is anyone who would be stupid enough to hurt you.” As he spoke he held Tommy’s gaze and hey when did we get so close?

They were close enough to where Tommy could smell the cigarette smoke on the raven haired man’s breath, surprised to notice that his heart was absolutely pounding out of his chest, and not for the fear of being beat up anymore.

This guy’s eyes were green, deep, and so confident as he looked at Tommy like he was looking at the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen. Tommy found himself edging closer, despite the fact that he didn’t know this guy’s fucking name. Something was pulling Tommy toward him, like he had his own gravitational pull, something that exists inside Tommy needed to be closer to this mysterious stranger.

Tommy took a shuddering breath and looked down at the others lips, maybe he was reading the situation completely wrong or he wanted to get back at Mike, or maybe he just needed a fucking ego boost after having his confidence completely shot, but at this point he didn’t care. He had to go for it at this point, because he would never forgive himself if he ignored this magnetic feeling, it was too special to walk away from. With one more deep breath Tommy lunged forward, and kissed this beautiful stranger full on the mouth, feeling the other inhale sharply in surprise.

But none of that mattered, because after a couple beats of shocked stiffness, Tommy felt the other man pressing closer, and his lips were moving against his and his hands were pulling at Tommy’s hair like they knew exactly what to do, like they did this all the time, and Tommy was in absolute fucking heaven.

He didn’t know what this even was, he had never felt this exhilarating feeling from someone he had just fucking met, but the sparks he felt in his chest chased away every doubt the younger man had. He could think about the consequences later.

The raven haired man was pulling away then, backing Tommy up to press his back against the car, nipping at his lip in an almost shy manner, perhaps the only apprehension Tommy had sensed up until this point.

Tommy’s hands seemed to move on their own as the slipped slightly under the raven haired man's shirt to pet at the warm skin of his hip in reassurance, an encouragement that served its purpose, because then the stranger was shuddering at the sensation, brushing Tommy’s hair off of his shoulder, and trailing his lips down to press kisses to Tommy’s exposed neck.

Tommy couldn’t help but to let out an absolutely sinful moan then, because this was fucking hot, this guy was fucking hot, he was unattached now anyway and honestly, he was always a horny drunk.

Tommy felt a chuckle brand itself into his neck then, and he couldn’t help it as his lips let out “I feel like I should at least know your name, dude.”

Those green eyes were pulling back to look at him again, the same confident glint in them that he had admired in them before, but they were almost softer now.

“It’s Nikki.”

Fuck, even his name was hot. If Tommy wasn’t a goner before, he definitely was now.

“Tommy.” He managed to choke out without sounding too breathless. Nikki smiled at the airy tone and returned his lips to Tommy’s throat. “Well Tommy, I think I can make you feel good enough that you won't even remember your ex’s name… that is, if you want..”

There was that insecure tone, it was back, hidden under a mask of fake confidence, but it was there, and even though Tommy didn’t know this guy, had no reason to feel any sort of emotional attachment to him other than gratitude for not beating his ass over this situation, Tommy decided he really didn’t like that tone to Nikki’s voice. Nobody that fucking beautiful should feel insecure about anything, ever.

Tommy didn’t think he could choke out a reply anyway, so he bucked his hips against Nikki’s, feeling a shot of pride go through his chest when Nikki’s eyes rolled back slightly and the grip on his hips tightened enough to bruise.

“Are you sure?”

The slight disbelief in Nikki’s voice made Tommy’s heart skip a beat and his cock pulse harder, somehow. It was like he couldn’t believe that Tommy was willing to do this, with him, in this alley, but in reality this is all that Tommy ever could have wanted for this night.

This man was beautiful, and Tommy could see the kind soul under the rough exterior, and right now all he wanted to do was feel the passion that he had always been missing with his ex, and something in him told him that Nikki could provide that for him.

In a burst of sudden confidence, Tommy was rolling his hips, pressing his hard cock against Nikki’s thigh and somehow managing to choke out: “Pretty damn sure.”

From there, it was all hands, all over his body. Tommy felt lightheaded at the feelings this man was bringing out of him, the anticipation of the pleasure he knew was to come was suffocating him as Nikki’s gentle hands pushed him down to lay in the backseat of the old beat up vehicle.

Tommy was somewhat surprised at the gentle caress of Nikki’s hands so far, he would have expected Nikki to be much rougher, but something told him in the way Nikki’s hands shook that he was holding back for him, and that the best was yet to come.

But for now, Tommy was being driven crazy. Nikki was taking his sweet time, pushing his hands under Tommy’s shirt so deliberately, and the kisses being pressed into his neck were so soft, Tommy thought he was going to lose his mind before they got to the actual sex.

Tommy could feel the warm moist heat of Nikki’s breath as his shirt was pushed up and off of him completely as Nikki turned his attention to kissing down his chest, stopping for a minute to gently lick at each nipple. Each flick of Nikki’s tongue, each nip of Nikki’s teeth sent electricity into Tommy’s nerves, lighting them up and sending Tommy to heaven.

Nikki was palming his cock over his jeans now, and Jesus fucking Christ, Tommy could hear himself moaning and grunting with this voice that was dripping with pure sex, Tommy didn’t know if he had even made any of these sounds before.

His body was demanding more friction to sooth the pulse that was pounding between his thighs, to the point he was almost considering begging because he needed this.

Nikki’s mouth had worked its way down to Tommy’s stomach by the time his vocal cords gathered the control to choke out a strangled “please”, and Nikki’s face warped with a mixture of pure pride and lust, all thoughts of going slow abandoned as Nikki went to work on the button on Tommy’s jeans.

While Nikki rid Tommy of the confines of his jeans, Tommy decided Nikki was wearing entirely too many clothes, and pulled the shirt over the older boy’s head, sighing happily as he ran his fingertips over the warm, pale skin of Nikki’s chest.

The entire world had narrowed down to the inside of this car. Nothing else mattered, not the chatter of pedestrians a dozen yards away, not Michael, nothing else existed except for him and this raven haired stranger that was looking at him with the most worshiping eyes that Tommy had ever seen.

Tommy hissed as the cold air hit him when Nikki managed to slide his pants the rest of the way off. Nikki flat out groaned as he took in the sight before him. Tommy seemed to have thrown any hesitation that he might have felt out the door. He was locked in a pleading gaze, eyes begging for more, for anything.

It must have worked because Nikki seemed to take pity on him and didn’t leave him waiting for long. Their positions were awkward and cramped, okay yeah, Nikki definitely lost feeling in his right leg, but neither of them seemed to mind. The younger boy let out a shout when Nikki suddenly lowered himself to take the younger man’s length in his mouth.

Okay, fuck, Nikki is good at this. Tommy was in pure ecstasy as Nikki drug his tongue along the swollen vein of Tommy's cock, fighting the urge to thrust his hips forward and choke the other man.

Tommy whimpered in surprise when he felt a lubed finger circling his entrance.

Where the fuck did that lube even come from?

Tommy couldn't help it, he was pushing himself down onto Nikki's finger, begging him to keep going, give him more more more.

One finger turned into two, then three and Tommy was a writhing mess under Nikki.

Nikki let out a groan as he took in the sight of Tommy fucking himself down onto his fingers. “Come on baby, take it, that’s right.” He huffed out before pulling his fingers away completely, heat rushing to his lower stomach at the whining that ensued.

“Nggg, Nikki- more- please-”

And yeah, okay, Nikki wasn’t going to be able to deny this kid anything, not when he’s begging like that with that voice. Not wasting any time, Nikki pushed down his own boxers and thrust his leaking erection into the younger boy’s aching hole. Leaning down Nikki crashed his lips into the Tommy’s, capturing the noises that were slipping from his lips, and swallowing them down.

Nikki couldn’t contain his moans for long though. Moans turned to half-shouts as the older man began thrusting, deep and fast. Tommy felt dizzy with pleasure and the adrenaline that came with fucking a complete stranger on the Sunset Strip, where anyone could catch you.

Tommy may have been longer but Nikki was so thick. He relished in the burning stretch causing him to clench around the other’s pulsing member. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so turned on. He had grown used to the boring, lights off, half asleep, sex that he had grown to accept with Mike.

No this, this was uncensored, raw pleasure. This all felt so new, and he couldnt help but fucking relish in the look in Nikki’s eyes, like he was barely holding it together, like the sight of Tommy alone was enough to make him come. It was hot, but it was also sweet, in it’s own way. He couldn’t help but bury his hands hands in the raven locks as the other man moved to bite at his exposed throat.

Tommy’s moans gradually turned into various versions of Nikki’s name. What started out as “Nikki”, had shortened to “Nik”, and eventually morphed into just sultry moans that vaguely sounded like the older boy’s name.

“You like that, baby?” Nikki whispered as he ground into Tommy’s prostate, causing the younger man to see stars. Tommy couldn’t respond with words, he was choking on his reply of yes, yes he fucking likes it, yes he fucking loves it, he could die right here, being fucked to death in the back of this shitty car in this shitty alley and it would be just fine with him, what a fucking way to go.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, babe, goddamn-” Nikki’s praises were spurring Tommy on, in a way that he had never experienced before. He had never felt so worshiped during sex, and it made him want to give Nikki a show. It made him want to make Nikki feel just as fucking adored as he was making Tommy feel.

With that thought, Tommy was pushing Nikki off of him, Nikki’s eyes growing wide and confused at the turn of events. Tommy watched Nikki’s mouth open, no doubt to apologize, ask what was wrong, something along those lines, but before Nikki  could get a word out, Tommy was straddling his thighs, teasing Nikki’s cock with his entrance before pushing down and  sitting himself flat on Nikki’s lap.

Nikki’s eyes were wide in awe, his mouth forming a perfect o shape, his head thrown back against the seat, as he hissed out a ‘fuck, baby’, and Tommy was fucking proud of himself.

Tommy grabbed a handful of dyed black locks to steady himself as he started bouncing himself on Nikki’s lap. As his movements increased in speed, and his prostate was hit dead on with every thrust, he could feel honest to god tears in his eyes at the pleasure, he was so close, so fucking close, he needed Nikki to touch him.

He opened his mouth to say something- anything- to convey what he needed, but as it turns out, Nikki knew, somehow he just fucking knew, and he was bringing his shaking hand up to fist Tommy’s leaking erection, pulling in time with Tommy’s movements.

“I- I’m close- do you want me to-”

Tommy knew what Nikki meant, “do you want me to pull out”, and no, no he fucking didn’t, and he just sped up his movements impossibly faster in response. As close as Nikki was, Tommy was closer. He threw his head back and let out a cry as his muscles spasmed, and he came on Nikki’s hand and chest. He fucked himself through his orgasm, and the sight of Tommy’s release was enough to drag Nikki over the edge as well.

Releasing Tommy’s cock, Nikki’s arms coiled themselves around Tommy’s back, pulling him closer and burying his head in Tommy’s shoulder as his body spasmed and his mouth opened to scream a silent cry into his lover’s shoulder.

After a few minutes of labored breathing, Tommy lifted himself off of Nikki’s lap, allowing Nikki to slip out of him, and collapsed down on the bench seat, pulling Nikki on top of him. Nikki let out a startled laugh, a smile permanently etched on his face as he continued to try to catch his breath. Not wanting to crush the younger man he forced himself to sit up a bit, but Tommy was quick to pull him back against him. “Just- just for a minute.” Tommy grumbled out sleepily, eyes still closed. At the softly spoken words Nikki couldn’t help but to oblige. His chest tightened at the implications of the other man asking him to stay. Maybe the other man felt the same magnetic pull that seemed to overtake him the moment he laid his eyes on him. Not wanting to overthink things and be that person Nikki resorted back to the cocky mask that he wore so well, “Still can’t get enough of me, babe?”

But Tommy was looking at him, dark brown eyes scrutinizing and analyzing him, as if to see past the mask that Nikki has been accustomed to wearing all this time. It made Nikki squirm, he wasn't used to people looking at him like that, wasn't used to people caring that much, but he could get used to looking at those brown eyes, that was for sure.

"I mean, that was some pretty great sex, Nik."

Nikki choked out a laugh against Tommy's shoulder as he buried himself into it, pausing for a second to grab the blanket he had stashed under the passenger seat and covered them up. He tried not to let his mind dwell on how fucking good the nickname sounded spilling from Tommy's lips, but the thought had a smile playing on his lips anyway.

——-

Several years later, Michael was just a distant memory, and Tommy was living his best fucking life every day with his lover and best friend on stage, every night, in front of thousands of people. Tommy’s hair was darker, Nikki had bulked up a little bit, both were littered with more tattoos, and neither one had ever been more happy.

Neither had expected that night so many years ago to lead to this. Keying someone’s car, and then fucking them in the back seat of that same car isn’t exactly a fairytail way of meeting, but to both Nikki and Tommy, they lived their own fairy tail every day they were together.

Countless interviewers asked them how they had met and become a couple, and it was always the same bullshit response they gave everyone, they ‘met on the streets of LA and they just clicked instantly’, which wasn't exactly a lie, but not the full truth. With their entire lives being put in the spotlight now, they both agreed they wanted to keep this one memory for themselves only.

Though Tommy was used to the tattoos that riddled the bassist’s skin, his eyes always ended up focusing on the, honestly not very well done, tattoo that rested over his heart. When Nikki had drunkenly told Tommy that he wanted to get a key tattoo one night, Tommy decided then and there that this was his forever. There was no one else in the world that he would rather spend his life with.

Maybe it wasn’t love at first sight, or maybe it was, but it was Nikki and Tommy, and that’s what mattered.

[rsbry-beret]

Wasting Away Again

Find it on Ao3 here!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24159175

Tobin was drunk again. On a Tuesday. He hadn’t meant to, really...

(that was a lie. At work that day, he had watched Joan call Leif into her office with a look on her face that told Tobin everything he needed to know. Tobin tried so hard to keep working, he really did, but his eyes kept finding Leif through the glass walls. At one point Tobin had glanced over and the two of them were gone. Leif showed up half an hour later with his hair neatly re-done and a red, angry scratch mark poking up his neck. Tobin tried not to notice.)

(He noticed, though. He really noticed.)

… but there he was, most of the way through a six pack of Corona, slumped limply on his living room carpet. Tobin slid down from where he was propped up against the couch, falling in slow motion until he was curled up in a ball on his side, beer can still clutched tightly in his grip.

Thank goodness Leif was out with Joan tonight. Tobin didn’t want him to see him like this.

(Leif had seen him at worse. Leif had seen Tobin at rock bottom, and Leif was there to take him home and sit with him in the bathtub because Tobin had wanted to take a shower but gave up before he even turned the water on. Leif hadn’t left when Tobin broke down and started sobbing into Leif’s stupid 100% cotton cardigan, even though the snot would probably ruin it. Leif had stayed there with him all night, and then called them both in sick the next day, and hadn’t even made Tobin talk about his feelings, about why he had felt the need to go get wasted instead of just talking to Leif, instead of telling him what had happened with- Leif had seen him at worse. Maybe Tobin just didn’t want to Leif, right then.)

Tobin stayed on the floor. He tilted his face down into the carpet, slightly grey in that gross way that all things once white end up being. He considered laughing for a moment, because it seemed like the sort of thing that a drunk person should do, but he decided against it, just pressed his face harder into the floor, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

Maybe Leif would get home and find him and make him alphabet soup. Or something. Maybe Leif would see that Tobin was upset and instantly understand, the way Tobin always kind of hoped Leif would learn how to do, because they were best friends and he was pretty sure best friends were supposed to be able to read each other’s minds. Maybe Leif would get home and just hold him, tight and warm and solid.

Maybe Leif would stay the night at Joan’s. Probably that would be what happened.

The lock clicked, echoing through the apartment. Tobin didn’t bother getting up. If it was a burglar, they wouldn’t have a key, so it had to be-

Shit.

Tobin turned his face to the side, opening his eyes to blurrily watch brown loafers stop in front of his head.

“Tobes, dude, what the hell?” Leif sounded pissed. Which was weird, actually, because he had just got home from a date and usually he was in a good mood after he got some.

And if he wasn’t happy, then Tobin would have expected him to sound disappointed at seeing Tobin laying on the ground, surrounded by empty cans.

And if he wasn’t disappointed, then Tobin thought Leif would sound sad. Sad because he couldn’t… fix him, or whatever.

But Leif sounded angry. Like, really fucking angry. Kylo Ren, kicking puppies, dealing with window salesmen level angry.

At Tobin. Angry at Tobin.

Tobin considered the idea in his head for a second. Leif was mad at Tobin. Okay, why? It could be because he had drank, like, all the beer in the apartment. It could be because he had maybe, sort of, accidentally spilled some on the once-white carpet and not cleaned it up. It could be because Tobin had left his jacket on the floor, even though he knew Leif hated that. It could be because Tobin was a total wreck and ruining this awesome night that Leif had just had without him, and maybe Leif would decide that Tobin was too high-maintenance and kick him out of the apartment and decide to never talk to him again, and Tobin would have to quit his job out of shame and go work at Rite-Aid or 7-11 or Apple, or somewhere equally humiliating and beneath his pay grade.

“Sit up.” Tobin swayed upright, overshooting a little before leaning back against the couch for support. He looked blankly up at Leif, who had his arms crossed. He looked like Tobin’s mom the first time she had to pick him up from the police department. “Dude. What the fuck happened?”

Tobin shrugged. He hoped that Leif would get to the part where he kicked him out soon. He wasn’t sure if he could handle a whole speech beforehand.

Leif huffed out a breath. He was still wearing his coat, weirdly enough, which meant that he had seen the living room light on and the tv off and his jacket on the floor and had known that Tobin was going to be here, and had decided to come and yell at him before he even took his coat off. Or his shoes.

“Tobin. I’m gonna need a little more from you, buddy. What the actual fuck are you doing right now?”

Tobin glared at his knees, which were poking up awkwardly between his torso and the coffee table. Tobin had stupid knees. “Drinking.”

“No shit.” Leif sat down on the couch, like a civilized person or something. Tobin tried not to notice that he didn’t reach out to pet Tobins hair like he usually did when they sat like this.

Tobin resolutely didn’t say anything else. His feet were stupid, too, trapped underneath the table. He could feel his socks, slipping off his feet just a little bit. Stupid socks. Stupid coffee table. Stupid Tobin, for drinking all the beer.

“Tobin,” Leif said, still sounding mad.

Tobin twisted around at his hips painfully, feet still stuck beneath the table, and stared at Leif for half a second before looking away, at the modern art that Leif chose for the apartment because he said it gave the room ‘personality’.

“Sorry I drank all the beer,” Tobin said, and Leif deflated. Tobin watched, half in awe, as Leif melted completely into the pillows.

“Tobin,” Leif repeated, then again, “Tobin. I’m not mad that you drank the beer. Well, I am, but… I’m mad because you got crazy drunk instead of just talking to me about whatever ridiculous thing you let get under your skin this time. I’m mad because I don’t know what the ridiculous thing is.”

Which, actually, was a pretty insensitive way of phrasing that, and Tobin opened his mouth to tell Leif that but what he ended up saying was “I’m in love with you.”

Leif froze. Tobin felt like maybe he should, too, but then he realized that he’d already said the words, and regretting saying them wasn’t going to make them un-say themselves.

Hahah. ‘Un-say’. National spelling bee champ, right here.

“You what?” Leif asked, sitting upright, coat left hanging half-on and half-off of his arms. Tobin stayed facing him, even though it hurt his neck and his side and his thighs, a little bit.

Tobin considered the empty beer cans on the carpet. Tobin considered how often he drank, and how high his tolerance was, and the fact that when he felt miserable he tended to get dramatic when he had an excuse, and Tobin came to the unpleasant conclusion that he probably wasn’t as drunk as he was pretending to be. That he probably just wanted a good reason to lay on the floor.

“I love you, bro. Full homo. In love with you.” Now that he’d said the words, he couldn’t get them to stop. “Since, like, junior year of Highschool probably, because I remember you walked into advanced statistics and your stupid tie matched your socks and I heard fucking… Mary Lawrence started giggling from the third row and I was so ready to just punch her, you have no idea, dude.” Tobin inhaled, taking in a deep breath.

“Because first year of college, you passed out during your computer science midterms and the professor knew to call my cell phone, because apparently you had sharpied my number on your arm in case that happened.

“Because when I brought that fucking ferret to work on Take Your Kid To Work day, you insisted on going into Joans office with me, even though you didn’t even know I was gonna do it, because you knew that it’d look less bad if you were in on it.

“And because when my mom… yeah, you let me ruin your stupid January cardigan, and-“

Leif bent over and kissed Tobin on the forehead. It looked like an insanely uncomfortable way to bend, and Tobin’s suspicions were confirmed when Leif pulled back immediately and winced. Tobin stopped talking anyway, before pushing himself out from under the coffee table and onto the couch beside him.

Tobin looked at Leif. Leif looked at Tobin and grinned wide. “You know which cardigan I wear each month?”

That was… a weird thing to focus on, considering everything Tobin had just said.

“Yeah?”

Leif swayed forward and kissed Tobin again, this time on the corner of his mouth.

“Woah woa- wait, okay.” Tobin set his hand against Leif’s chest to push him lightly away, not bothering to remove his hand afterwards. “Not that I’m not totally on board with whatever’s happening here but first of all- what is happening and second of all, aren’t you dating Joan? Didn’t you literally just get back from a date with Joan?”

Leif squinted. “Me and Joan aren’t dating. When I said I had a business meeting with her, I actually meant, like… a business meeting.”

Tobin made a noise deep in the back of his throat, like he was thinking about something. He wasn’t really thinking about much of anything. He was more than a little confused. “You do have sex, though?”

Leif flushed and looked away for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “I mean- yeah, we have sex. But it’s notexclusive. She’s got her thing with Ava and I…” He trailed off.

Which, okay, that’s a lot of information at once, but more importantly- “and you…?”

Leif gulped, and Tobin could almost feel it from where he was touching his chest. “And I’m in love with you.” He glanced down at Tobin’s lips, then up again. “Full homo.”

“Oh. Cool.” Tobin jolted forward at full speed, slamming into Leif and basically attacking him with his mouth, sloppy and gross and honestly, not really that attractively. Tobin's hand was still trapped between them, and Leif was too off-guard to do much in the way of response, but it wasn’t about kissing, really. It was about saying I’m here, I’m here, I love you too and I’m here.

Tobin pulled away as quickly as he had pushed forward. “Holy shit, I’m kissing Leif Donnelly.”

“Is that what that was?” Leif quipped wryly, or in a tone of voice that would have been wry if his glasses weren’t crooked and his cheeks weren’t bright red.

“I know that was an insult but I’m too happy to care. Holy fucking shit, I just kissed Leif Donnelly.” Tobin beamed at Leif, with his crooked glasses and all. “Seventh-grade-Tobin is crying tears of joy right now. Honestly, current-Tobin might start, too.”

“I thought you said eleventh grade?” Leif reached back to flatten down his hair. It poofed back up again as soon as he moved his hand away.

“No, dude, I fell in love with you in eleventh grade. I’ve wanted to jump your bones since I knew what it meant.” Leif blushed again. “I don’t really want to share you, though.”

Leif smiles awkwardly. God, Tobin had kissed him. “That’s okay. I don’t really want to either.”

Tobin leaned forward, resting his head in the crook of Leif’s neck and smiling. “It’s because I’m way hotter than Joan. I’m warning you now, man, once you get a taste of Tobin everyone else will be ruined for you.”

Tobin heard Leif let out a soft laugh. “Honestly, Tobes, I think they already are. Wait, that didn’t make much sense, I meant- yeah, I agree with you, you’re hotter than Joan.”

Tobin started laughing, quietly at first and then louder, into Leif’s February cardigan. After some grumbling Leif started laughing too, before leaning back on the couch and letting Tobin rest on top of him.

“You totally still owe me more beer, though.”

Tobin shut him up.

Title from Margaritaville by Jimmy Buffet. All hail the angel @opheli-bob who gave me the prompt :)

[oblame]

i think my heart just exploded bc of my delight & enthusiasm. but hey !! hello you lot !! i’m c ( they/them ), your chaotic starchild who is the admin of this pleasant lil rp. i’m gonna burst out bc of my excitement, so without further ado, i’ll present you the intangible anti-hero of crystalline city, JUDITH ‘ JUDE ’ LIDELL !!

imogen poots + agender + she/they.┊ ❛ ━  hey, is it just me or do you hear  particles by nothing but thieves playing in the distance ? oh, thats just  spirit , a  lawful evil  member of the syndicate of villains. i suspect they might be  judith ‘jude’ lidell , a  thirty-three  year old  street singer  with the ability to  phase . according to my sources,  she  can be  audacious , but also  revengeful  which is probably why they remind everyone of  a smile laced with venom and stray animals  so much. anyway, a  supervillain  or not, crystalline city is keeping a close eye on them!

tw: death, child trafficking

here i go fam, my main goal is keeping this as lax as possible because when i keep it serious, it gets too long and we don't want that, right ??

crystalline born & bred, and she literally belongs to this city. and when i say she belongs to the city, i mean it. she grew up in streets because her parents were two innocent people, but they messed with the wrong jerks -- mafia members. so when those bad guys wanted to hurt them, they took jude away from her family and it was watching her die or giving their child away for an unknown future -- yet alive --, they preferred latter.

apparently, jude wasn't the only kid caught in their web, they were using those kids to make them beg, steal and all the shit a kid shouldn't do. that was their way of training the mafia’s future servants. being a soldier to the mafia, an unavoidable fate for the poor kids caged by them. 

just like the others, jude couldn't do anything about it. and then something happened. her powers finally manifested. her natural self defense mechanism. when someone tried to hit her, their hand just went through her like she suddenly turned into nothing. her power is phasing, she is able to move through objects and ignore most physical effects in their way, exact means how this is done vary between slipping partially into other dimensions, being able to make their own particles move between other particles, being non-physical being of energy, vibrating their molecules into a new quantum frequency, being able to air-walk etc.

she felt invincible for the first time ever. no more slavery, time to get free. she could run from them forever with this power, at least that's what she thought. ran from the ugly place where they kept all the other children, she also dreamt of returning to save those kids one day.  

she started to live in the streets on her own, it was rough, but it has always been. stray animals became her new family. you can tell why she has like five cats and two dogs living with her rn. of course, those people couldn’t let her live with it. they were following her around, trying to capture her. thanks to her powers, avoiding them was not as stressful as living. her powers clearly made everything easier for her, things like stealing too. she kept doing what she learned from them, but this time it was not for them. this time it was for her survival.

uhm now, let's go back and talk about her parents. she actually decided to find them at some point because now she is powerful and she can protect her fam and get herself a better life, rite ?? well, that didn't turn out like that. she found her parents... six feet under the ground, killed by those people. this is where tables turn, y'all. now our girl is not interested in saving the kids or running for herself anymore. she wanted to do what they did to her parents. so she did. at a very young age, she got the blood on her hands. this time she didn't run from them when they came for her, she took their lives.

when she found out her parents’ death, she also learned how she had a... sibling, and we’ll get to that later.

after that, she had some awful foster parenting and almost adoption experiences, basically it looked like she had a family and she went to school ( she hated school btw ) but in the end, she kept on living in the streets, none of those so-called parents were 'parent' enough to save them from living this way.

her thing with music started when she found that one partially broken guitar in a dumpster. as a musically inclined person, meeting with that shitty guitar changed her life. she started street performing when she was in hs. street performing is what she does since then.

seeing the supers and stuff through media, she also decided to put her powers on a good use... and by good use i mean creating some chaos. she was more interested in being the anti-hero and giving a message. she was the bad guy who was after worse guys. of course, heroes don't like that bc in the end, damage she caused didn’t make her purpose any reasonable. yes, she wanted to give other villains a lesson but in the most brutal way possible. so she got herself some feuds and stuff.

let’s go back to the sibling thing. judith found her sibling after acknowledging their existence, she knows who thet are, where they live. everything. but she never slipped into their life. to protect them, she became a ghost in their life. besides,  she couldn’t expect her little sibling to open their arms for her. she was the one with a body count after all.

jude is not even half of a team player, but she joined the syndicate when the list of her enemies became chunkier than it should be. joining a league of villains can give you that protection, y’know?

now she is still a street singer and a member of the syndicate. she lives with her cats and dogs, she didn't go to uni after hs.

considering how she grew up, it's not a shocker that she is pretty rough around the edges. she is definitely an anti-hero type. like i mentioned before, not really a team player, there has been lots of ups and downs since she joined the team of villains.

A FEW CONNECTION IDEAS !!

judith always helped the kids who lost their ways & family, those who lived in the streets just like her. maybe there was one of them that became a sibling to her, but jude never let them know about her second identity. when they learned, it left them terrified. so they pushed jude away. now there is this odd bond between them. in other words, hurt my baby.

either give her a villain bf, so they can both struggle, trying to accept they have feelings for each other or give her a hero bf who is her arch-enemy, so we can go down with angst.

a younger villain that admires her, she sees that person as the only person that won’t give up on her bc they accept her as who she is. she helps them & they save her from living a darker life.

someone she makes music with !! enough said !! music is her everything, let her bond over music with someone.

STAB THE HEART IF YOU’D LIKE TO PLOT W/ ME !!

[xxxdragonfucker69xxx]

PROM IN BLACK

"This is ridiculous," Des said.

Shadow stared at her thoughtfully for a minute before agreeing. "You're right. The train is far too long, you'll be tripping over yourself all night. Sutsam!"

Sutsam came forth from where he had been lurking in the corner, bobbing and scraping. Shadow pointed to the foot of Des' dress, and the ghostly tailor set to it with needle and thread, performing some sartorial sleight of hand that managed to vanish half a foot of cloth. Des sighed.

"Not that," she said. "Though that is better. I mean... this whole thing."

Shadow frowned. "What, the dress? We've spent a good amount of time designing it, but I supposed Sutsam could probably whip something up --"

"No," Des interrupted, to Sutsam's visible relief. "I mean, holding this... prom, just for the three of us. I know it's all the rage in the Realm, but... we're hardly Dynasts." She laughed sadly. "If we're counting by blood, I suppose I am technically royalty, but still."

Shadow's softened, then hardened. "Don't think of that," he admonished. "This isn't about showing off or performing social maneuvers. This is just... fun."

"Fun," Des repeated. "With all due respect, Shadow, you're hardly an expert. I don't think you've ever had fun in your life."

Shadow raised an eyebrow. "For your information," he said drily, "I once had a riveting conversation with the former Magnus about the nature of Essence. I was positively lightheaded." He kept a straight face, but Des laughed until Sutsam pleaded for her to stay still. "But seriously," Shadow said, and she subsided. "I know it doesn't feel like it, but... you three are young. Even Star. You all deserve the joys of young adulthood, its attendant rites and ceremonies. Not... not to have to hide your face and wrestle with darkness." Shadow's face was averted as he spoke, watching Sutsam's work, but Des detected a quiver in his voice.

"Like you did?" she asked softly. "What was your prom like?"

Shadow had Awareness 3, so there was no excuse for him not to have heard, but he acted as if Des hadn't spoken. He stepped back and surveyed Sutsam's handiwork. "Perfect," he said. "The boys will never know what hit them."

+++

"This is ridiculous," Seal growled. He rotated his arm as if feeling his shoulder. "I can barely fucking move in this. First punch and I'm gonna dislocate my fucking shoulder, or maybe just rip the damn thing in half."

"You're not gonna get in a fucking fight," Leo said through gritted teeth. He was helping the boy struggle into his tuxedo, a black-and-white getup that made Seal look like a clown. As far as Seal could see himself in the tiny bathroom's mirror, anyways. And it was too fucking tight.

"You're one to fucking talk," Seal retorted. "Didn't you fuck a guy up at the last party you went to?"

"Hey," Leo snapped, rising to his feet and staring Seal in the eyes. "That's out of fucking line."

A heated glare passed between them for a few seconds before Seal broke it off and rubbed his neck awkwardly. "Sorry," he muttered.

Leo closed his eyes and breathed deeply, visibly composing himself. "It's alright," he said as he moved back around Seal to adjust the collar. "I deserved that one."

"Any advice?" Seal asked. "Besides 'do what I say, not what I do'?"

"Well, for starters," Leo said, "don't get smashed and punch the worst guy in the world." He met Seal's eyes in the mirror and they chuckled. "For real though, you don't have to worry about any of that tonight. No paparazzi, no drama, no mess. Just some kids having fun."

"I'm not a fucking kid," Seal growled, quieter this time.

"Yeah, you are," Leo said. "Oughta be hanging out at the schoolyard, menacing all the sorcery nerds or whatever."

"I'm eighteen," Seal countered. "What were you fucking doing at eighteen?" Leo was silent, so Seal pressed his advantage. "You weren't going to fancy fucking parties in full dress," he accused. "Why the fuck should I?"

Only after he said it, at usual, did Seal feel bad. He saw Leo's lips pressed together in a thin line, his eyes in some distant place. After a while, Leo looked back down at Seal's collar. "We're not talking about my life," he said roughly. "We're not even talking about yours. We're talking about what life is supposed to be like. Kids are supposed to have fun, not -- wrestle hellboars or be soldiers or what the fuck ever. It's fucked up that I didn't get to, and it's fucked up that you don't get to."

Seal felt his eyes heat up. Motherfucker. He pressed the back of his hand to his eyes angrily.

A hand pressed itself to his shoulder. "Hey," Leo said quietly. "Listen. I know your whole deal is shitty, and everything feels like it's gonna be fucked up forever, but... you should at least know what a normal life feels like. So, someday, you can start working your way back towards that."

Seal blinked rapidly, wiping a little blood away from his eyes. "I still look like a fucking idiot," he muttered, but without heat.

Leo chuckled. "A little, maybe," he admitted. "But it can't be worse than Star."

+++

"Thisch isch fucking ridiculousch," Star said.

Pho frowned around the bobby pin in his teeth. "Hold ftill," he said. "Allllmoft got it."

Star looked up at the ceiling of the kitchen. Various stains overlapped across the tiles, some more threatening than others. He considered using his new Investigation Charms on them, but decided against it -- he didn't really want to know what Harv got up to in here. At his neck level, Pho was fiddling with a bowtie, the most ridiculous garment in the universe.

"Thish kinda schit never happened in Shkullschtone," Star complained. "Not that there'sh that much fanschy partiesh there. But I got to juscht wear my polische uniform whenever that happened. It wasch cool," he preened for a second.

"Not my ecfpertife eifer," Pho agreed. "There. Got it." He stood back and took the bobby pin out of his mouth. "Now let's get that hair."

"My hair isch fine," Star said defensively, backing away. "It'sch purple and fluffy. No problemsch here." Pho considered him for a moment, then shrugged and put the bobby pin away somewhere in his armor. "What did you wear to your fanschy partiesh?" Star asked.

Pho shrugged again. "Never really had any," he said. "Lived on the road, mostly. Bounty hunter work with my ma. Circus stuff before that. I guess a circus is kinda like a party," he allowed.

"Whatever happened to your ma?" Star asked.

Pho frowned. "She died, and then the Mask turned her into chains for me. He was kind of a bastard," he said. Star stared awkwardly at the top of Pho's head. "Then I got out and turned her into an axe, and we kicked Mask's ass. Then the Sun set her free. It's a long story."

Star coughed. "Yeah," he said. "That'sch, uh.... that'sh rough, buddy."

Pho gestured vaguely. "Old news," he said. "Tonight is for all you kids, not old fogeys like me."

Star couldn't help bristling a little. "I'm not exshactly a kid," he said. "I'm twenty-one. I can drink in Shkullshtone."

Pho raised an eyebrow, a perfect imitation of Shadow's expression. "Well, you won't tonight," he said. "No alcohol at prom. It's the rules. Besides, you can't exactly say you had a great childhood either."

Star leapt to Skullstone's defense. "It'sh pretty good, actually," he said. "Free schchooling and shtuff, a plasche to live, food to eat. Lotsch of plashesh have lessh. And a job I'm pretty good at, if I do shay sho myshelf."

"And how much of that childhood did you spend playing?" Phoenix countered. "Getting drunk and doing dumb shit with your friends? From what I hear of Onyx, that shit doesn't exactly fly." Star was silent. "Listen," Phoenix sighed, "I'm not criticizing the Prince or whatever. I'm just saying, live a little. Uh. Pun not intended."

Star sighed and ran a hand through his hair, which was indeed purple and fluffy. "Schure," he said. "Guessh I'm not exshactly gonna turn down free food."

+++

There was food. There was mood lighting. And there was music.

The Sanctuary had been transformed into a dance hall worthy of the shittiest teen dances. It was dark, and colored lights strafed across the walls (cast from will-o-wisps Shadow had captured himself). The table that usually held coffee and donuts was now laden with various cookies, cupcakes, and at one end was an enormous punch bowl filled with blood punch (Hours' secret recipe, which amounted to "punch someone until you can take their blood"). All the couches and chairs were cleared away to make an open space for dancing.

Where the TV cabinet usually stood, there was instead a podium where Harv was directing a spectral quartet; the ghostly organist bent over a keyboard while the singer moaned about a burning mercy seat. Harv himself was wearing what appeared to be suspenders cut from tuxedo-grade silk, in black and white, with a bowtie at his neck. And on the dance floor, several zombies were shuffling around aimlessly, hands held out in a vague attempt at dancing.

Simultaneously, the doors to the bathroom and kitchen opened, and two of the Shitheads shuffled out.

Pho was wearing his full armor, since it counted as fancy dress; and he was escorting Star, who was in a ruffly silk tuxedo. The spikes of his arm had been artfully incorporated into the tuxedo, each one poking out from a different design; it looked almost as if it had been intentional, an artistic choice. And on his neck, a perfectly tied bowtie. Seal almost choked when he saw how good Star looked.

Seal himself was in a suit, tightly cut in black and red. A little golden pin shone on his lapel, a concession to Glorious First Light. Behind him was Leo, wearing much the same thing, though at least he got to wear sunglasses. "Go talk to him," Leo suggested, pushing Seal forward a little. Seal stammered, but Leo was already off to the food table, so there was nothing to do but push forwards through the zombies.

"Hey!" Star greeted him cheerily. "Check all thish schit out, huh? Guesh Harv thought we needed more danschersh at thish dansche."

"Fucking weird," Seal agreed. "Look at them. I think that one's trying to do a jig." They watched the zombie jerk up and down for a while, its foot dangling from its leg where the tendons had been cut or rotted away. "Anyways," he said, breaking the reverie, "where the fuck is Des?"

As if on cue, the zombies parted. Sensing the mood, Harv quickly switched the musicians over to some kind of military march. The door to Shadow's room stood open, and there they were. Shadow himself was dressed in his finest regalia, good enough to peacock around at a Dynast ball (minus all the arrow holes, maybe), but he didn't hold a candle to Des, and he stood like he knew it and was proud of it.

Des smirked, soaking in all the attention, and advanced slowly. She was wearing a glittering black dress with thorns embroidered all down its length. They grew more numerous as they neared her shoulder, where an enormous rose bloomed, red so dark it was nearly black. Her gloves were of the same color, mimicking her anima and complimenting the dress, and Bloodthorn hung at her side, held by a loop rather than a sheath: present, beautiful, and ready to kill.

Seal's jaw just about hit the floor; he didn't know shit about fashion, but he was pretty sure Des was wearing all of it tonight. Beside him, Star was similarly gaping. Des' smirk turned into a grin as she came near them, dress trailing on the floor behind her like a pool of night. "Hello, boys," she said, extending an arm to each one. "Ready for prom?"

Star, at least, knew what to do; he knelt and kissed her hand, fully mock-chivalrous. "Milady," he said, struggling not to giggle. Seal was too busy staring. "Holy fuck," he said. "If I wasn't gay my dick would be through the fucking roof right now."

"Don't be gross," Des said, swatting him, though she was visibly pleased with the compliment. "Come on, let's dance already."

Seal frowned. "Yeah, but this music sucks. Hey, Harv, this music fucking sucks!" he shouted over the music, which had returned to something rustic and melancholy at best. Harv was conducting like his life depended on it, though, and didn't hear -- until Hours loomed over him.

"Make vay, leetle man," the Dusk growled, and Harv obliged meekly. The musicians leaned closer to see what Hours was going to ask for, but instead the man pulled out a balalaika and started tuning it. Then he let loose a lively tune, and the musicians shrugged and took it up on their various instruments.

"That'sh more like it," Star said, grinning. "C'mon, Scheal, let'sch fucking dansche."

Well, when he put it like that, Seal had no choice but to dance.

+++

They danced for hours.

Des knew some kind of complicated three-person waltz that let her spin Seal and Star around herself in dizzying counterpoint, so fast that Star accidentally gored a zombie on his way through. But it was, somehow, incredibly fun, as long as Seal didn't try to think about where his feet were going and just kept dancing. He'd never thought dance could be fun, not without any swords or anything.

After a while, though, they were starting to slow down; Seal was dipping into his Essence to keep going, and all their castemarks were starting to show. Des' was burning brightest, so he expected her to step out soon, but what he didn't expect was the sudden maneuver that brought Seal and Star face-to-face while Des stepped back. "I'm going to get a drink," she said, flashing a treacherous smile at Seal. "You two have fun."

Bastard bitch son of a snake, Seal thought venomously at her, but Star shrugged and stepped up, holding out his hands. "Might ash well," he said. "Care to dansche, mishter Scheal?"

Seal sighed and stepped into his arms, taking Star's hand in one and nearly impaling the other before landing safely on Star's shoulder. Right on cue, the music slowed to something meandering; Seal looked over to see Harv ushering Hours from the podium, balalaika torn to shreds. Star hummed for a moment then started moving, forcing Seal to follow his footsteps. "I learned thish one at the academy," he confided. "In cashe we had to infiltshrate a fanschy party or shomefing."

They stepped back and forth for a while. In the distance, Seal spotted Shadow and Harv slow dancing, so he tried to copy them. Anything to avoid the sheer awkwardness, to not have to look Star in the eyes. Shadow and Harv weren't look at each other either, though as they rotated Seal caught the same look of contentment on both their faces. Ugh. Disgusting.

"Scho how do you like your firscht dansche?" Star asked, drawing Seal back to himself. "I'm guesching you didn't exshactly do a lot of dansching in Fortitude or whatever."

Seal shrugged, hoping that Star could see or at least feel it. "It's fucking weird," he said. "It's... fun, I guess. I thought I'd hate it."

"Way better than the danschesh at the academy," Star agreed. "That wash all formal and shtuff. Thish ish nische, though. Jusht ush and our friendsh. And a doshen schombiesh, I guesh, but thoshe don't count."

"Yeah," Seal said. "Just us kids."

+++

A few hours later, the Sanctuary was empty. Forlorn decorations littered the floor, and the refreshment table looked like it had been stampeded. Shadow sat on a folding chair as the zombies slowly picked up the remaining detritus of the dance. Suddenly a shadow loomed -- well, not over him, since Shadow was taller than Phoenix even sitting down, but in front of him.

"Hey," said Phoenix, removing his spiky helmet and setting it on the table. "I think that was a success."

Shadow smiled wearily. "Yes," he said, "I think so too." He raised an eyebrow at Phoenix. "I didn't see you on the floor, much. What's the matter, shy?"

Phoenix chuckled a little. "Dancing's not really my thing. I can shuffle, kinda."

Shadow rose to his feet. "Well, we can't have the kids outshining their teachers, or we'll all lose face. Would you give me the honor of this dance, sir Phoenix?"

Phoenix looked around skeptically at the zombies sweeping up and the lack of music, but he followed Shadow out onto the floor. With a sweeping gesture Shadow banished the zombies to the edges of the room, took Phoenix's hand and set it on his waist, hummed for a moment, then imperiously stepped forward.

Shadow had learned the dance a long time ago, and it was buried deep in his muscle memory: designed to be an easy one for the follower and a difficult one for the leader, though he knew both parts. A memory flashed into his mind, of dancing it with a different partner, and he sighed. "So young," he murmured.

Phoenix grunted in agreement. "Seal was thirteen when he exalted. Just a kid."

They revolved slowly on the spot for a moment, Shadow's feet dancing lightly around Phoenix's. It was a while before either of them spoke again.

"When I was young," Shadow said, "I watched the other children. They were pampered, I thought. They slept on soft beds and ate delicious food and played for hours at a time without any worry in the world. It was an unimaginable luxury."

Phoenix sighed. "That's what kids need," he said. "Safety, comfort, they need to know that things are okay. They deserve happiness. It's not their fault they never get it."

Shadow nodded sadly. "Sometimes," he said, "I think about dropping it all -- the quest, the burdens, everything -- and just... living with them. Taking care of them. Making sure they never have to go through what we went through, or even what they've been through already."

"I tried that," Phoenix said. "Rescued a whole damn buncha kids from Dowager. You heard about Sachi, right?" He shook his head. "That kid's gonna be an adventurer no matter what I do. Gonna get into all sorts of trouble." Resignation mixed with pride in his voice.

"Perhaps that's true," Shadow agreed. "Perhaps all we can do is... make them secure in themselves, to weather the storms that must come."

Phoenix sighed. "That's all you ever can do," he said. "Can't fight everything for them, even if you want to. I mean, big things, sure. But they gotta learn for themselves, too."

Shadow nodded. "Nevertheless," he said, "I wish they didn't have to." He looked down and saw Phoenix grimacing.

"Me too," Phoenix said. "Me too."

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

Like Sun On The Rise

Domestic fluff requested by a sweet friend, @literal-ray-of-sunshine. I hope this makes you smile.

Penelope learns Schneider never experienced the joys and terrors of sleepovers as a child, and decides to fix that. Secret talents, Truth or Dare... and feelings that can only be avoided for so long.

Penelope x Schneider, One Day At A Time. Also on AO3.

He hesitated. “Just to clarify...what are the rules? Off-limits stuff?”

With her feet practically resting on his, Penelope shrugged. “I can’t think of anything. We know each other. And we’re both sober--with my kids down the hall. Basically, we’re playing Truth or Dare: Grown Ups Edition.”

“You know, if we were really going to play the grown ups edition...” Schneider grinned at her, more than a little bit flirtatious, and she swatted him on the arm.

“Ugh.”

“Just saying.”

“Not funny.”

He kept smiling, until she started to feel a little self-conscious with him staring at her so freely. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he wasn’t kidding.

The knock came while Elena was playing video games on the couch.

“Elena, could you get the door?” Penelope called from the kitchen. “I’ve got my hands full in here.”

She heard the squeal with her back to the living room and smiled. Apparently the reunion was starting early, and the scene in the living room when she turned around was a heartwarming one.

“I thought your flight wasn’t until seven,” Elena said, hugging her best friend while shock turned to elation. “I was supposed to meet you at the airport. Schneider was going to take me,” she added, shooting him an accusing look over Carmen’s shoulder.

“My flight changed. Figured I’d surprise you,” Carmen replied with her familiar deadpan tone. “Surprise.”

“She swore me to secrecy,” Schneider added.

Elena emerged from their hug to beam at Carmen. “I’m so glad you’re back. Tomorrow you and I and Syd are all going to hang out and I cannot wait for you to finally officially meet them. I know you’ve seen them, like, a lot, but video chat is not the same. Oh my god, I’ve missed you so much!”

Elena’s excitement rushed her words together and made Penelope smile. When she realized Schneider remained near the couch, grinning fondly at the girls too, she headed over to him.

“Elena told me this was your idea,” Penelope said as her daughter pulled Carmen toward her bedroom, still talking non-stop.

“Well, I wouldn’t say it was my idea,” he hedged, looking like he might bolt for the door after all. “She was talking about how much she wished Carmen could visit over the summer but how Carmen’s family didn’t have the money for a flight. I just mentioned that I’d be willing to buy Carmen a ticket, if that was all it took. And if you were on board, obviously!”

“Calm down, Schneider. I’m not accusing you of anything. You knew I agreed to this weekend. I’m trying to thank you for helping make it happen.”

“Oh. You’re welcome.” His grin mellowed into something softer when peals of laughter floated their way and his eyes met Penelope’s. “Listen to those two.”

There was a hint of parental guilt in her nod of agreement. “Elena never exactly had an easy time making friends. I know how hard it was for her after Carmen moved. Tonight’s sleepover is just what the landlord ordered.”

“I didn’t order it,” Schneider insisted. “I couldn’t recommend it based on experience--I’ve never even been to a sleepover.”

She sat on the couch, frowning at him.“What do you mean you’ve never been to a sleepover? At some point, before you were the pampered man-child you are today, you were an actual child.”

“Your point being?”

“It’s a thing. A thing kids do. You’re telling me you never went to a single sleepover in your whole life.”

“I’ve had the adult kind,” Schneider argued.

“Doesn’t count. I’m talking pajamas and ghost stories and junk food, that stuff. Rite of passage, essential childhood experiences.”

“My childhood wasn’t like that,” he said with a shrug. “The thing about sleepovers is you need a place where your friends can come over, to sleep at. I went to boarding school.”

“So really, your whole childhood was one long sleepover.”

Schneider shrugged again, but this time it was more like a wince. “The other thing about sleepovers is you kind of need friends."

When he didn’t elaborate further, she decided not to push. “I'll see you later,” he ventured into the silence that followed.

Penelope listened to the faint sounds of Elena and Carmen catching up and watched as Schneider turned to leave. She took a leap.

“Hey, Schneider?”

He faced her expectantly. “Yeah.”

“What have you got planned for tonight?”

“Netflix, woodworking. Maybe some yoga. Why? You need something?”

“No. I was thinking that if you didn’t have big plans, you could come over. We could hang out.”

“You and me?”

“Yeah.” She smiled. “Mami’s out of town visiting my cousin, the girls are having a sleepover, you’ve never had one. We could watch movies, eat too much popcorn, stay up late playing games and gossiping and painting each others’ nails...”

Penelope raised her eyebrows at him to make him laugh. “Anyway, it could be fun.”

“You’re serious.”

“Absolutely,” she declared with more conviction this time. “I used to love a good sleepover. And I didn’t have anything planned other than hanging around listening to those two. Why should they have all the fun?”

"Okay!” Schneider’s face lit up like a kid getting offered a gift--which wasn’t too far off, in a way, Penelope thought.

“I’d love to," he added. "I’ll bring snacks.”

****

When Schneider came back after dinner, her laughter was so loud it carried to Elena’s room.

“You said you would bring snacks, Schneider...not all the snacks.”

“I wanted us to have options!” He had toted up four recyclable grocery bags full of them and had been proud of himself for the effort--until now.

“We definitely will,” Penelope agreed. “For the next month. Even if the kids help, there’s no way can we eat all this stuff tonight.”

“Then I’ll leave the rest and you guys can have it later.” Shaking his head, Schneider moved the bags to the kitchen counter, waiting until she joined him to start unpacking.

Along with name brand chips and microwave popcorn and fancy soda, he had gotten her favorite snacks, which made her feel bad for making fun of him. How did he even remember the Ben and Jerrys flavor she liked when they only sold it at Target?

Did he shop at Target just so he could include it?

“You really went all out,” Penelope said once the drinks were in the fridge and the ice cream was in the freezer.

“I wanted to.”

“Yeah.” She paused as the thought occurred to her. “I know you got the Ben and Jerry's for me, and I recognize that frozen yogurt thing you like...but what’s the other ice cream for? You definitely got more than we need. It barely fits in the freezer.”

“It won’t need the space for long,” he predicted with a wink, lifting a can of whipped cream out of the last bag along with jars of chocolate and caramel sauce and fresh cherries.

“Schneider.”

She’d already let the girls order pizza for dinner. Carmen being there at all was a treat. Sundaes, on top of that?

“C’mon, Pen.” Ever so casually, he pulled the last item out of the bag he was holding and slid it her way.

Damn it.

“Cookie dough. Seriously?”

He knew her too well.

“Elena, Alex!” She rolled her eyes toward Schneider when the kids emerged from their rooms. “Guess who decided to splurge on do-it-yourself sundaes tonight?”

“Yes!” Alex was excited enough that Penelope couldn’t help thinking he didn’t need the sugar, but she watched Schneider pass the girls the ingredients to form an assembly line and was reminded of her own childhood.

This was exactly the sort of thing that Elena would hopefully remember one day, those bright, happy memories that were wonderful because they were small and random. Honestly, it was lucky her daughter was still interested in things like ice cream all-nighters with her best friend at this age.

“You guys get started,” Schneider said, resting a hand on Penelope’s arm and pulling her aside. “I’ll make mine next.”

In the relative privacy of the hall, with the kids’ conversations providing cover, he let his concern show. “Hey, you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Schneider shook his head. “Talk to me. I saw something on your face, and it was not fine.”

“No, it’s--I’m okay. I’m good. I just had a mom moment. You know, Elena’s got her first girlfriend, Alex is practically dating too. How much longer do I have with them before they’re too old for sundaes and sleepovers and...well, me?”

“Psh!” Letting go of her hand, Schneider squeezed her around the waist while Alex teased Elena a few feet away. “They’ll never be too old for you.”

He stayed hugging her as they watched Carmen bury her chocolate ice cream in chocolate sauce with severe focus. “And nobody is too old for sundaes,” he argued. “I’m forty and I’m about to fix a triple-layer one for myself.”

“That’s true.”

“Plus you and I are having a sleepover!” He grinned at her. “Age is just a number.”

“Mom, we’re gonna eat in my room,” Elena said, sliding past them with her bowl and spoon. Carmen and Alex followed, leaving the sundae supplies strewn across the counter.

“Besides,” Schneider said in the sudden quiet. “This is my first sleepover, Penelope. Now is not the time for melancholy. It’s party time!”

“Okay, okay.” She shook off the mood and pointed at the open cartons. “Make your sundae before the ice cream melts.”

“You’re not having one?”

“No way.” Penelope shot him a grin, plucking the yellow package off the counter. “I’m making cookies.”

****

Trying to be a good example for the kids and not get sick, she only had a couple of cookies at a time. And maybe she stole a few spoonfuls of his sundae, but they were just tastes--they didn’t count. Especially when Schneider ate four cookies out of her first batch.

“Honestly,” Penelope told him from where she was curled up on the couch. “I have no idea how you can have that much sugar at once and not die, when your usual diet is obsessively healthy.”

Sprawled out next to her, he filled more than his fair share of the available space. They were both too content with the sugar high to feel weird about it.

“Obsessively is the key word.” Schneider smiled at her a little. “I told you I have an addictive personality--sugar is addictive. Having a reasonable amount is the hard part for me."

Penelope frowned and reached for his hand. “Should we not have...I didn’t mean to encourage--”

He turned his palm over, cutting her off with the surprise move of lacing his fingers through hers. “It’s fine. Tonight won’t kill me. I came to have the classic sleepover experience, and so far it has been a blast.”

“All right. If you’re sure.”

“Yeah. But, tomorrow morning, if you catch me trying to get Lydia to add extra sugar to my coffee...cut me off.” He offered her a sheepish look that was also somehow charming. The softer side of Schneider--quieter, open about his flaws--never failed to tug at her.

She did her best to cover that with jokes, though. The last thing she needed was for him to realize that his vulnerability was even more attractive than seeing him suited up for a quinces.

“Anyway,” Schneider continued, oblivious to her thoughts as he released her hand. “What’s next on the classic sleepover agenda? Movies, games?”

“Movies are a must,” Penelope agreed. “But I think I’m too close to a sugar coma for one now--unless it’s a horror movie, and we can’t watch any of those until later.”

“Because of the kids?”

She raised an eyebrow. “That’s cute. I’m sure they’ve already seen all the ones I’ve banned in secret screenings with their friends. No, I meant we should definitely watch a horror film, but after dark--for maximum terror.”

“Oh. Great,” Schneider offered up after a slight hesitation. The wobble in his voice made her smile. She knew he was kind of a scaredy cat just like her, but fear was a time-honored part of sleepover tradition.

"So we should play a game,” she decided. “Unless you really do want to go for makeovers.”

“I...I don’t know how that would even work.” His brow furrowed. “Plus I kind of like my look the way it is.”

Penelope held up her hands reassuringly. “Kidding. Like I said then, game time.”

“Which means what? I used to play a great round of Monopoly.”

Laughing, she shifted closer. “Not board games--we can play those any day. Sleepovers have their own games, though I have to admit all the games I remember are for teenagers. Truth or dare, seven minutes in heaven, spin the bottle.”

“I may not be a sleepover whiz, but I know spin the bottle,” Schneider said. “We would need more than two people for that one. What’s seven minutes in heaven?”

“Also made for more than two people,” Penelope replied. “It’s the worst. You go into a closet with somebody else and then everybody assumes you kissed. Just hormones raging, and gossip.”

“So I guess truth or dare it is, then.”

She nodded. “We’ve got at least an hour to kill--pun intended--until we can pick a thriller to watch. But god, the idea of truth or dare flashes me back to junior high. Have you played before?”

“I have not. Surprisingly, my nannies wouldn’t take me up on the invitation when I was a preteen. Seen it in movies, though.”

“Okay...I should probably go first.” She waited, then nudged his foot with hers. “Ask me!”

Schneider blinked at her. “Oh. Right. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

He hesitated. “Just to clarify...what are the rules? Off-limits stuff?”

With her feet practically resting on his, Penelope shrugged. “I can’t think of anything. We know each other. And we’re both sober--with my kids down the hall. Basically, we’re playing Truth or Dare: Grown Ups Edition.”

“You know, if we were really going to play the grown ups edition...” Schneider grinned at her, more than a little bit flirtatious, and she swatted him on the arm.

“Ugh.”

“Just saying.”

“Not funny.”

He kept smiling, until she started to feel a little self-conscious with him staring at her so freely. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he wasn’t kidding.

But he had to be kidding--Penelope had made it clear years ago that she didn’t think of him like that. It was her own fault that she went and became interested after all.

“Okay,” Schneider said, ending the charged moment between them. “Truth. What’s one thing you desperately want right now, but don’t have?”

Penelope thought it over for almost a full minute before she nodded. “A spa.”

“A spa.” He blinked. “Out of everything you could wish for in the entire universe, you just want to go to a spa?”

“What can I say, I like the simple pleasures.” She gave him a look. “And I didn’t say I wanted a spa day. I said a spa. As in, my own spa. That I can escape to whenever I want.”

“Oh, right, right, right. That makes much more sense.”

“Your turn, Schneider. Truth or dare?” Penelope relaxed back into the couch cushions a little further. She was enjoying their impromptu night more than she had expected to.

“My first turn! Exciting. Wow.” His eyes widened. “Which do you think I should pick?”

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“But this is important!”

“This is a game, Schneider.” She gentled her tone. “This is a party game for twelve-year-olds. It’s not the end of the world, no matter what you pick.”

“But--”

“Whichever one you pick now, just pick the other on your next turn. Okay?”

“Alright.” He shook the tension out of his shoulders, jiggling the spot where she sat. “Truth.”

“Okay. My question for you is...who’s your favorite family member?”

“Lydia.”

She frowned. “I didn’t mean my family. I was talking about yours.”

“Lydia is my family. She saw me through a lot of rough patches over the last fifteen years, Pen. I love her like the mother I never had.”

“But what about the mothers you did have?” She felt like shaking him a little, though she knew she didn’t have any right to be frustrated. Now it was her turn to breathe out the stress.

“I was trying to find out more about the family you come from, Schneider. You talk about them only in really vague terms, and they never visit. You’ve met practically everybody related to me at this point, so...I’m curious.”

Schneider sighed and moved back so he wasn’t encroaching on her side of the couch anymore. “You’re right. That’s fair. What exactly do you want to know?”

Watching him carefully, Penelope wondered if stretching her own limbs out toward him would be weird. She missed the friendly warmth they’d been sharing.

“Anything. What’s your happiest memory from growing up? Did you have a favorite holiday? What did you do for fun?”

“Wow, okay. That’s more than one question,” he pointed out. “I feel like we’re breaking the rules of the game.”

“If you don’t want to do it,” she replied with raised eyebrows, “you can always choose Dare instead.”

He frowned. “That feels like a cop-out.”

“Totally valid loophole,” Penelope assured him. “Though if you’re going to do it on every Truth you’re better off just starting with Dare in the first place.”

“Dare,” he decided without further hesitation. She was left wondering what about his family and his childhood he was so desperate to keep secret as she moved on.

“Sure. I dare you to...sing your favorite song backwards.”

Schneider’s brow furrowed in the center but he complied. Though she gave him points for effort, his attempt was as loud as it was nonsensical, bringing the girls into the living room to stare.

They were harsh critics.

“Go back to your party,” Penelope said, raising her voice over the boos, “and leave us to ours. You’re not invited.”

Elena led the way out, laughing with Carmen until bedroom doors shut them in.

“They should be crashing soon from all the sugar,” she told Schneider reassuringly. “If you want, we can wait until they’re asleep.”

“No, I’m good. Your turn,” he reminded her. “Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

This time, he thought about his question for a long time. She reached out and tapped his leg before he finally asked it.

“Earth to Schneider.”

“Yeah. Okay.” He nodded to himself. “If you could go back in time and change one decision you made, what would it be?”

Penelope had a painfully clear flashback to a bed behind a curtain, and the liar she married seducing her into trusting him again.

If she were being completely honest, she wasn’t sure if she would go back to stop herself from giving Victor another chance...or to stop herself from finding out the truth in such a vulnerable moment. That weakness in her, the not-knowing, was something she was too ashamed to admit, especially to Schneider.

“Dare,” she said instead.

Though he was visibly surprised, he didn’t press. “I dare you to...show me a hidden talent you have.”

“Hmm.” That was a pretty good dare, she had to admit. Creative. She pressed her lips together, trying to think of something Schneider wouldn’t already know about.

“Got it.” Penelope stood, leaving him on the couch while she disappeared into her room. When she returned, she was carrying--of all things--a hula hoop.

Schneider couldn’t stop grinning at her, but he did hold back the laugh that wanted to escape at the very idea of Penelope hula hooping.

“Was this some kind of trendy exercise thing?” He asked as she stood near the front door, planting her feet clear of the furniture.

“No, this was an ‘I have kids’ thing,” she countered. “I wasn’t big into it when I was little, but as a mom, it turns out I rock a hula hoop.”

“Okay then.”

Squashing his amusement as best he could, Schneider watched Penelope start to move...and instantly realized nothing about her secret talent was funny.

She didn’t just sway the hoop--she moved with it in a rhythmic circle, like she was dancing. He’d never thought about the mechanics of hula hooping before, but after watching Penelope, he was pretty sure it was all in the hips, because he couldn’t take his eyes off hers.

Hula hooping should not be sexy, he told himself firmly. Clearly he had a problem.

“Very nice.” Schneider clapped politely when she stopped.

“Hey, you asked for it.”

“Yeah. No. I did, you are correct.” She misunderstood his discomfort, but he was glad--he definitely preferred Penelope thinking he was experiencing anything other than a vivid fantasy right now.

“Okay, now it’s your turn,” she said, setting the hula hoop by the door and rejoining him on the couch.

“Dare.”

“I dare you to...” Her smile was wicked. “Show me your hula hooping skills.”

“I--I don’t have any.” Schneider shook his head. “I’ve never hula hooped in my life, Pen. I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Want me to teach you?”

Somehow, he had a feeling that lessons with the hoop would involve closeness. Or touching. Or both. Hard and fast, he shoved back against his feelings until they were locked down where they belonged. Then he nodded.

“I mean, you can try. I can’t say I’ve ever thought of myself as a future hula hooping pro.”

“Yeah, but it could be fun.” Penelope stood and reached a hand out to him. “Come on, Schneider. Live a little.”

“Remember who you’re talking to,” he warned her cheerfully. “I live a lot!” As she passed him the hoop, he took her spot near the door. “Does this count as my turn, for the dare?”

“Not a chance,” she answered just as cheerfully.

“But I will be showing you my hulaing skills. They just happen to be a work in progress.”

“This isn’t part of the game. When we’re ready to go back to Truth or Dare, I’ll give you a new dare.”

Schneider sighed dramatically, but his good-natured shrug was the reaction she’d expected.

“And I’m going to tell you the secret to hula hooping,” Penelope told him, “so you can get the hang of it way quicker than I did. What you want is to focus on moving individual parts of your body.”

“Like this?”

Schneider attempted to take her advice, but the hoop only swung around his stomach twice before it clattered down.

“Well, no.” She laughed as he gave it back, then nudged him aside. “Watch me.”

Penelope made it look easy, aiming a grin at him when she tossed her hair back. “See how my hips are moving and keeping the hoop going,” she asked, “but my legs and knees are barely moving at all?”

“Yep.”

That was a serious understatement of what he noticed, of course. The way her hair bounced and caught the light of the living room; her eyes warm with amusement at the silliness of their night so far, even while she was also watching him intently to see if he was getting the hang of it.

Her fingers, flexing a little where she had them raised above the hoop like she was itching to dance and couldn’t fully hold back. The curve of her lips and how soft they always looked; the way her breathing barely changed as she casually kept the hoop in motion.

And above all else, the way her hips were moving, as she had so helpfully pointed out. He hated feeling like such a stereotypical guy around his best friend, but his reaction was less thoughtful than it was primal. He wanted to remove the hula hoop from the equation entirely and close the distance between them.

Swallowing audibly against that thought, Schneider nodded at her. “All right, time to see if I can do that.”

His second attempt was better, though compared to Penelope it still looked nothing like hula hooping. But after a few tries, he managed to keep it circling his waist for more than a full minute.

His proud grin was definitely a highlight of the evening, she decided. She snapped a couple of pictures of him holding the hoop when he wasn’t looking, just so she could hold on to it.

Schneider was grateful that he was done actually using the hoop before Alex came out of his room and spotted them, grabbing a cookie with one hand and a handful of chips with the other.

“Whoa,” Alex said, smirking a little as he put the pieces together. “What’s happening out here?”

“We’re having a sleepover and you’re still not invited,” his mom told him firmly. “And don’t get crumbs in your bed.”

He lifted his snack-filled hands. “I’m just saying, finding Schneider out here with a hula hoop is pretty weird.”

Alex left, and Schneider stared after him more solemnly than she thought was called for.

“Hey, come back to the party.”

“I’m here. Do you think I’m weird?”

Penelope blinked. “Yes.”

“Oh.”

The furrow in his brow was back, and the downturn of his mouth made her sad along with him, so Penelope skipped past teasing him like she normally would. She cast aside her careful distance to try and fix whatever had just gone wrong so quickly.

“Do you think that’s a bad thing? Schneider, weird people become scientists and artists and change the way the rest of us see the world. My kids are weird, and I hope they find a way to hang on to that for as long as possible.”

She tilted her head, trying to figure out if he understood her. “You’re genuinely yourself, and that’s something to be proud of. If you weren’t weird, you wouldn’t be the guy who makes my Mami feel young, looks out for my kids when they need it, or who thinks a sleepover with me sounds like more fun than your normal plans on a Friday night.”

Taking the hoop from him, she smiled at Schneider and was relieved when he smiled back. “I for one am grateful you’re this weird, because I’ve been having a really great time.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. So let me put this away before one of us breaks something--hula hooping indoors eventually becomes an invitation to injury--and we’ll go back to the game.”

“I wasn’t going to hurt myself,” he protested as she left, raising his voice to follow her through the hall. “I know your apartment better than I know my own.”

“And that’s supposed to convince me?” Her words floated back to him. “Last week you nearly broke your toe in your own kitchen.”

“Well, there was a bee, and I was in a hurry.” He was still waiting by the door when she returned.

“Okay,” he asked. “What’s my dare?”

“Right.” She had almost forgotten about that after watching him try to imitate her at hula hooping. How was tonight more fun than she’d had in weeks?

Penelope looked at him thoughtfully, then around the apartment. “Since you brought it up, Schneider, I dare you to walk from that spot to the kitchen with your eyes shut, and make yourself a snack.”

Though she expected an argument, she didn’t get one.

“Alright.” He squared his shoulders and shut his eyes, lashes fluttering behind his glasses, before she stopped him.

“Wait. With your glasses on I won’t be able to see if you peek.”

“I’m not going to cheat!” The insult in his tone was, frankly, adorable, but she acted as though she didn’t hear it.

“Yeah, because I’m not going to give you the option.” Ducking her head into a closet, Penelope lifted out a handkerchief and quickly folded it in half, then again. “Bend down a little.”

“What?”

“Lean towards me. Come on already.” Penelope reached up and tugged on his shirt until he was more at her level.

Schneider huffed out a breath, blinking hard when she carefully removed his glasses and set them on the couch behind her.

“I did not agree to this,” Schneider protested as she laid the cloth against his face, smoothing her thumbs over his skin. Both of them ignored the fact that he was twice her size and could stop her at any time if he really wanted to.

Once she was satisfied that the handkerchief was flat enough, she tied it behind his head and regarded the result.

He looked so shocked behind the blindfold, Penelope couldn’t help the pang of sympathy. She lifted her hands again and cupped his face. “Trust me, Schneider. You’ll be okay.”

Unable to see her, or expression as she watched him, Schneider leaned into her palm, everything about him softening.

Under different circumstances, Penelope might call the look on his face longing. She ran her thumb over his cheekbone for an indulgent moment of her own before stepping back and clearing her throat. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” He straightened and nodded. “You’re not gonna put anything in my path, or get in the way, right?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she reassured him with a quirk of her lips that was lost on him. “Not after you let me blindfold you to make sure there was no cheating.”

“Good point. Okay. Then it’s just a straight shot to the kitchen,” Schneider declared, and she watched from behind the couch as he walked in the right direction.

If Penelope were the one in the dark, she would feel her way there slowly, even though she had her own home memorized. It was just practical, to keep from bumping into furniture and collecting unnecessary bruises. But Schneider didn’t.

He also didn’t slow down, walking at the same pace he would if he had stopped by for coffee in the morning. Once he neared the kitchen, then he reached out to feel for the doorway, but up until that moment, she had expected more fumbling.

“Wow, Schneider, I’m impressed,” she admitted as he stepped into the kitchen.

“By that?” He asked, still unable to see anything, but carefully feeling his way along the counter until he found the snacks he had brought with him earlier. “That was nothing.”

“Not from where I’m standing.”

“Well, you’re forgetting that I’m pretty blind,” Schneider said as he ran his fingers over the surface of a box of microwave popcorn.

Penelope was pretty sure that a blindfolded Schneider plus microwave anything was a recipe for disaster, but she couldn’t find her voice to protest--she was too fascinated. He opened the box, took out one bag, and set the rest aside with the box flap neatly closed again.

The protective plastic seemed trickier for him, but she held her tongue while he finally gripped it the right way and opened it with a satisfying pop. By the time he unfolded the bag and turned toward the microwave, she was starting to think maybe he just had secret x-ray vision.

“What does your terrible eyesight have to do with it?” she asked as he set the bag down, flaps up, measuring with his splayed fingers to find the center of the glass turntable.

He shut her microwave door and hit a button that had to be at random–he didn’t even feel for it–then turned toward the sound of her voice and smiled.

“I don’t sleep in my glasses. I don’t wear them every second of the day, and I hate contacts. So I’ve gotten pretty used to life in the dark.”

“Huh.” The dull popping coming from inside the microwave filled the silence between them, and she watched Schneider run his finger down the buttons while he waited for the cue to stop the process.

Settling on the correct button--seriously, how did he do that?--he listened to the slowing pops, and then tapped the button and turned around. “Penelope?”

“Yeah.”

He turned back toward her, leaving the popcorn in the microwave behind him. “Can I take off the blindfold now, or do you want to risk me dumping it in a bowl sight unseen? Because I’m happy to try, but if my aim is off, it won’t be a small mess.”

“Good point.” She crossed the kitchen and stepped behind him, reaching up to carefully untie the handkerchief instead of letting him do it himself. She had to stand on her toes, but it was worth it to enjoy the way he visibly tensed up once he knew she was there.

What used to be normal for them made her needy now, and though he wasn’t uncomfortable for the same reason, his reaction made her feel a little better anyway.

“Hey,” Schneider stage-whispered after Penelope had brought him his glasses and he could see again. She enjoyed the moment before that when she got to look at him without them, his wide, unfocused eyes as blue as the sky.

“What?” She whispered back.

“Listen.”

“I don’t hear anything,” she told him with a frown.

“Exactly,” he said, letting his voice return to its usual volume. “Me neither. I think the kids hit their sugar wall earlier than I expected.”

“Maybe it was all the excitement.” Penelope smiled at him. “So, what do you want to do now?”

Schneider had the briefest thought that he acknowledged was stupid, where he wondered if maybe that was an invitation. Something about tonight made it hard to hold back the impulse to flirt, to push things a little too far, to test their dynamic.

She was just so relaxed with him like this, so open and beautiful and happy. He wanted to answer honestly, and tell her that the only real answer to that question was Kiss you, but luckily the logical part of his brain was still in charge of him and he could hold back those words.

“Movie time,” he offered instead, and Penelope looked down where he had shoved his hands into his pockets before she nodded.

“Okay. I got a new one that’s supposed to be really scary,” she told him, “and really good. Let me get my own snack ready? And I’ll join you on the couch.”

Schneider dumped his popcorn into a plastic bowl and went to wait, his nose crinkling as Penelope worked in the kitchen. “What are you doing in there?”

“Making my own movie snack, like I said.”

“It smells...interesting.”

“You can try it if you want.” She shut the cabinet behind her and hit a button on the microwave, taking the next three minutes to clean up her kitchen from sundaes and snacks.

“Hey, Penelope?”

“Yes?”

“How scary is the movie exactly?”

“A lot. Or so I’ve been told.”

She shot him a grin through the cutout, enjoying the way he almost looked like he might be blushing in response. “Don’t worry, Schneider. If you get too scared, you can hold my hand.”

****

She let him get away it with while the trailers and FBI warnings played, but eventually enough was enough.

“Stop,” Penelope hissed as the opening music began to sound.

Schneider didn’t reply, focusing on the movie as though he never heard her. His silence quickly turned into an “Ouch!” when she kicked his foot.

“Stop stealing my popcorn!! You have your own.” Penelope yanked her bowl out of reach.

“Mine was made blindfolded,” he argued. “Yours is delicious.”

“Well, I offered to share, and it’s not my fault you didn’t believe me and try it then.”

“You have to admit, Penelope, lime-sugar popcorn is a pretty hard sell.”

“I don’t have to admit anything.” Setting the food back in her lap, she lightly slapped his hand away when it snuck toward her again. “I’m the one with the bowl.”

“Oh God,” Schneider whispered a few minutes into the film. “Oh God!”

“Shh.” She ate another handful of popcorn and tried to drown him out.

“But the--”

“She’s just a kid, Schneider. Calm down.”

A half hour later it was Penelope reaching for his forearm without thinking about it. “Oh my god!”

“I know!” He whispered back, squeezing his eyes shut before opening them again.

“This is not what I expected the movie to be,” she admitted, letting go of the death grip she had on his arm and patting it in apology.

“Well, me neither!” Schneider opened his eyes a little and then shut them again with a shudder. “This is really scary.”

“That has to be the worst of it,” Penelope offered up hopefully. “It can’t get creepier than that, right?”

They grabbed each other at the same time when the movie hit its climax. “Their heads!!” Schneider said, squirming in his seat next to her. “I--”

“I know, me too,” Penelope admitted, shifting closer to him on the couch. “I am going to have that burned into my brain for a long time.”

“Oh god,” Schneider murmured, his eyes glued to the screen now. “Oh god oh god oh god...:”

Penelope moved over the rest of the way to shut him up, tucking herself under his arm so her hands could hold his. “It’s only a movie, calm down.”

“It’s my first sleepover!” he reminded her with a squeak in his voice. “And that was a lot of blood.”

“I think it’s almost over,” she reassured him.

By the time the closing credits rolled, Schneider’s arm was wrapped around her like he never wanted to let go, and she was still keeping a bracing hand on his knee.

“Well.” He blinked in the dark living room, and she suddenly realized how close they were...and how it would look if any of the kids had come out and seen them like this during the movie.

“Right.” She reached for the remote control to stop the movie, but didn’t get up.

“That was certainly an experience.”

“It was,” she agreed. “A…”

“Gruesome one?” He finished her thought.

“Yeah. I mean, it was a good horror movie,” Penelope admitted, “but for tonight, it was maybe a little much.”

Schneider chuckled and ran a hand over the back of his neck, where actual goosebumps refused to go away. “Maybe.”

She was about to reach for his hand again when he stood, and left the couch to turn the light on. They both heard the click of a door after that.

Elena went quietly into the bathroom, stopping by to see them on her way back to bed. “Goodnight, Mom,” she said through a yawn. “G’night, Schneider.”

“Night, baby.”

“See you in the morning, Elena,” Schneider added with a smile, and Elena nodded.

Then she came back, looking slightly more awake, and whispered in Penelope’s ear before leaving again.

The grin that spread slowly across Penelope’s face in response was almost as terrifying as the movie they’d just finished watching.

“Pen?” He ventured. “What was that?”

“Oh, my daughter was just reminding me that there’s one more sleepover game we have to play. The night won’t be complete without it--and after that movie, it’s the perfect time.”

Schneider shifted on his feet. “What is it?”

“Bloody Mary.”

“Uh.” He took a step back automatically, and Penelope smiled even wider. “Uh, that sounds kind of…”

“Scary? It’s supposed to be. But Elena was right, it’s a truly classic sleepover game. We should play it.”

Figuring nothing could be worse then what they’d already watched, Schneider offered her a small smile. “Okay. What do we do?”

“It’s pretty simple. I’ll grab what we need. Go wait for me in the bathroom, it’s got the biggest mirror,” Penelope declared.

Schneider was bewildered by that detail, but he followed her to the hall and then stood in the bathroom. When she followed him, she turned the light off and closed the door, plunging them into darkness. He froze, surrounded by black. “What’s happening?”

She was silent for a while, letting the tension build, just like the moment called for. She could sense Schneider growing more nervous as the darkness stretched between them with no sound.

“Penelope?” She felt his fingers brush her arm, seeking her out.

Penelope laid her hand on top of his so he would know she was close, before she began telling the story in a quiet voice that echoed against the tile in the bathroom.

“According to the legend, there was once a woman named Mary…”

She couldn’t remember at this point who had first told her the version of Bloody Mary that she knew, but like old commercial jingles, it was a remnant of childhood she had no reason to appreciate until now, with her hand resting on his in the small, dark space.

Listening to Schneider’s breathing hitch and speed up as she did her best to make the tragic tale of a murdered young woman as terrifying as possible, Penelope was glad it had lodged itself in the recesses of her brain.

If she played her cards right, she might even get a scream out of him, she thought with wicked satisfaction as her storytelling came to an end.

“So...is that it?” He asked hopefully when her silence filled the room again.

“Now,” she told him, moving close so that he would be able to hear her whisper, “we call for Mary to come to us.”

“What?” Slipping his fingers out from under hers, Schneider closed the distance between them, finding her with his hands.

“That’s the game.” She steadied her own breathing, hoping to avoid embarrassing herself once his hands were lightly holding onto her shoulders. Under different circumstances, this would be a perfect romantic moment. They were so close that all it would take was him leaning down, or her raising herself up on her toes...get it together, Penelope.

“We stand in front of the mirror using only this flashlight, and we say her name three times. According to the legend, saying Bloody Mary three times in front of a mirror in the dark will summon her spirit.”

“Cool, cool, cool,” Schneider said, trying to seem not at all concerned. “Sounds fun.”

Penelope flicked the switch on the flashlight, both of them blinking as it illuminated them standing face to face next to the shower. Schneider let go of her, they both turned toward the mirror and she tilted the flashlight up between them.

“A candle would’ve been better,” she told him as the steady beam of light moved in her hand. “The flickering creates atmosphere.”

“I think this is fine,” he replied, staring at her in the mirror.

He refused to look anywhere else. Not at the shadows surrounding them or the things in the bathroom that were now foreign and vaguely menacing--even his own face looked more villainous in this light. But Penelope was safe.

She was always a light in the darkness.

“Okay, so we just say her name three times?”

“Yes. We’ll take turns,” she decided, her eyes on his in the dimly lit mirror. After a slow, measured breath, she looked away to an empty part of the wall behind them, inside the mirror.

“Bloody Mary.”

Nothing happened.

Of course nothing happened, Schneider corrected himself immediately after the thought hit his brain. What could happen? It wasn’t like he actually believed in vengeful ghosts.

But still, when it was his turn, he hesitated. Penelope nodded encouragingly, and he responded with a quiet “Bloody Mary” directed at the mirror between their heads.

“You’ve played this game before, right?” He asked before she could take her final turn. “When you used to have sleepovers, that’s how you know it?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Nothing--nothing ever happened, right? You never saw her.”

“Well, it was a long time ago, now.” Penelope grinned when her evasive reply resulted in an audible gulp from him. “No, I never saw her. That doesn’t mean some of us didn’t pretend we did. It’s a sleepover game, remember? Made for impressionable preteens--and apparently, sensitive 40-year olds,” she added.

“Okay. Okay. Sorry. It was just a really scary movie,” he said in a rush. “Let’s go.”

“You’re ready?”

He stood a little taller beside her, pinning his gaze just above her head in the mirror. “Ready.”

“Good.” Penelope straightened up too, looking to the right of their reflections and letting a hush descend over them again.

Once things were so still she could hear Schneider’s breathing rise and fall like a distant ocean, she watched the mirror, unblinking, and said firmly, “Bloody Mary.”

As if on cue, the flashlight in her hand flickered and went out, dropping them back into darkness.

Schneider didn’t scream, but he did start to nearly hyperventilate next to her. “Penelope?” He sounded like a kid again, which was the exact point of this sleepover idea of hers. It felt like a success now.

“I’m here,” she replied, matching his whisper with her own.

“Oh, good.” He reached out, this time brushing her bare arm with his fingertips and letting them slide down until his hand found hers.

His fingers along her skin left warmth in their wake and she tried not to read too much into the fact that Schneider was holding her hand now. He must just have a fear of the dark she didn’t know about, to match his fear of spiders.

“Did you do that with the flashlight?”

“No! God, Schneider,” she replied, more harshly than she meant to. She could feel his pulse next to hers and her skin was tingling in the most ridiculous way.

“So it just...died.” Like Bloody Mary, she could imagine him mentally adding, and she held back a chuckle.

“I’m sure it was just a fluke,” she told him.

Schneider was frozen beside her, his hand hot in hers, and breathing a little shakily in the dark. She faced him without letting go. “Anyway, we played the game. No Bloody Mary. Just a flashlight malfunction.”

“Right.” He shifted toward her too, their bare feet nearly touching on the chilly bathroom floor. He made no move to leave.

Just for a second, she let herself pretend. Her kids weren’t asleep down the hall, and Schneider wasn’t somebody she had known for so long that she could never be more than a friend to him. Instead, he was a guy standing so close to her in the dark that she could practically feel him breathing, the rhythm of his heart matching hers where their palms met.

She couldn’t see him, not even in shadows. She could only feel him there, too close for her to pretend she didn’t have feelings that went way beyond being best friends.

In that moment, the one weak moment she allowed herself to have before she cleared her throat and let go, Penelope just wanted to jump him and see what happened next.

Schneider wasn’t sure exactly how they came to be holding hands in the dark bathroom, even though he was the one who had reached for her. It was a reflex, something he regretted as soon as he calmed down enough to realize he was crossing a line.

She didn’t get mad at him, though, and that was when his panic got even worse, because he and Penelope were holding hands. They were just standing there, holding hands. She wasn’t saying anything, and he couldn’t think of an explanation or an apology that wouldn’t sound super lame, and he somehow couldn’t manage to let go either...and she just kept standing there holding his hand.

He was too busy mentally freaking out to wonder why she didn’t say anything. When she let go, he breathed out his relief and was grateful that she moved away from him to turn the light back on.

Not that he was still terrified of the darkness surrounding them.

He was scared that if she hadn’t moved, he would have--and it would not have meant putting distance between them.

If not for Penelope snapping him out of the moment, he might have done something really stupid.

“I’m going to turn in,” Penelope said as they returned to the living room, her voice overly casual. “We managed to fit a lot of sleepover fun into one night.”

Tired was the last thing Schneider could claim to be, but he nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll see you in the morning?”

Penelope frowned at him, wondering why he said it like it was a question. The plan had always been for him to sleep on the couch; it’s not like it would be the first time. “Yeah,” she said after a long pause. “See you in the morning. We’ll make the kids breakfast.”

He settled on the couch and she went to her room, wondering how the night shifted so quickly from fun to awkward.

Schneider had been too close for too long, she decided as she drifted into sleep. Once he went home in the morning, everything would go back to normal.

****

Penelope woke up just after 2am, warm and thirsty. The last thing she wanted to do was disturb Schneider where he slept, but her dry throat was trying to turn into a coughing fit and she had no choice.

She made her way to the kitchen using the dim light from the window, and soundlessly retrieved a glass. There was nothing she could do about the noise of the water when she turned on the sink, though, and she almost dropped the glass when she heard Schneider’s quiet words float her way.

“Penelope, is that you?”

Sipping her water, she went to where he was sitting without his glasses on, looking flushed and sweaty. “Schneider? What are you doing up?”

“Had a nightmare. Well, several nightmares. Lots of headless children,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut like he could will the images away. “It wouldn’t stop, and I just…”

“You couldn’t get back to sleep?”

“No. I didn’t want to. Not after that.”

“Understandable,” she said, setting her glass down. “You want some water? Or a cookie?”

The corners of his mouth tipped up, but it wasn’t a real smile. His eyes remained haunted.

“You know,” he told her softly, “the hard part isn’t even the creepy nightmares. Everybody has nightmares, and once I’m awake I should be fine. Right?”

“I guess,” she said slowly, wondering where his train of thought was heading.

“Well, I’m not fine. I am so very far from fine.”

There was a bitter edge to his voice, one that worried her because it sounded nothing like Schneider. Not her Schneider, who was so easygoing and optimistic. Somehow she doubted this was really about a movie.

“Schneider, what’s wrong?”

“Waking up from a nightmare is like getting a phone call from Father, or finding out my ‘80s Aerobics instructor quit to move to Portland. Big or small, anything bad that happens, the first thing I think is always, ‘Wow, I really need a drink right now.’”

“Oh, Schneider.” She moved in to hug him, and he let her, but he was rigid and didn’t hug back.

“No matter what I do, Pen, for the rest of life, I will never not be an addict. And being reminded of that is worse than whatever made me remember. So no, I’m probably not going back to sleep. Not for a while, anyway.”

He ran a hand over his shadowed face and she shifted so that she was half-cuddling him, trying to offer whatever comfort she could. Schneider rested his forehead against hers and took a deep breath. Slowly in, count to seven, slowly out.

“Should you call your sponsor?” She pulled back to search his face. “Not that I’m not here for you, you know I am, but I want you to be okay.”

“I texted him. I’m okay,” he replied. “I’m just gonna...hang. Here, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind! You’re not going anywhere,” she declared, taking his hand and gripping it as though she could anchor him with it. “What do you want to do until you’re ready to go back to sleep?”

“Huh?” He blinked at her.

“Should we find a board game after all?” She smiled at his baffled expression. “Or maybe watch a movie, one with a happy ending?”

“Not that I don’t appreciate the gesture,” he said seriously, “but you should go back to bed. Both of us don’t need to be exhausted in the morning.”

“It is the morning,” she pointed out. “And I’m not going anywhere either, until you can look me in the eye and not be seeing your nightmares.” Or your personal demons, she added silently.

He looked like he wanted to argue, but it only took a few seconds of her staring him down for Schneider to relax back against the couch and nod. “Yeah, okay. A movie sounds good. Something funny.”

They kept the volume low so they wouldn’t wake the kids, and tried to do the same with their voices, but they talked their way through most of the first comedy that Penelope put on. Schneider picked the next movie, and she raised an eyebrow at him when his selection was Dirty Dancing.

“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve just always liked it. It’s fun.”

“Yeah, it is.” She grinned at him and settled in, wishing that she had the right to move over and tuck herself under his arm. If the moment they'd had in the bathroom was charged with an intense energy she didn’t want to think about too much, this one was somehow more intimate than that.

Watching a classic romance while the world slept around them, hyperaware of everything about him while he sat next to her on the couch--it felt a lot like a date.

****

Despite the fact that she actually liked Dirty Dancing, Penelope fell asleep halfway through it.

In her defense, it was 4:30 in the morning and she and Schneider had settled into a comfortable silence. She didn’t realize it had grown too comfortable until she woke up, her face pillowed on his shoulder while he watched the movie as though everything was normal.

“Hey,” he whispered when she turned her face to him, swimming back to consciousness. Schneider smiled, looking like himself again, and she couldn’t decide between smiling back and apologizing for sleeping on him.

When she started to sit up, he took her hand. “You don’t have to move,” he told her, his eyes returning to the screen.

“But--”

“It’s nice,” Schneider said simply. There was such vulnerable sincerity in those two words that Penelope couldn’t make herself do what she knew she should.

Instead, she laid her head back down, watching the movie while his thumb began rubbing gentle circles into the back of her hand.

He still seemed alert, in that anxious way that had less to do with really being awake and everything to do with trying to avoid something. She understood that on a level so deep that it hurt, and wondered if he had trouble sleeping this way a lot--like she did. Little hints he dropped into conversation sometimes, underneath his cheerful demeanor, made her think so.

Maybe that was why it felt like the most natural thing in the world to tip her face up again, memorizing the laugh lines around his eyes and the way his lips curved in response to a joke onscreen.

With the flickering light beaming out from the television, Penelope studied Schneider like he was a map to some place she had yet to see but desperately wanted to find. When he looked back, his irises absorbed the darkness around them until they were almost violet.

“Pen?” He watched her watch him, waiting for an explanation. “You okay?”

“I don’t know,” she told him honestly, biting down on her bottom lip and seeing his gaze flick to it. “What about you?”

Schneider wasn’t sure why she was looking at him like that, but he answered her question as though it made perfect sense. “Can’t say I enjoyed the nightmares, but otherwise it’s been a pretty perfect night. I’m good.”

She smiled. “So you enjoyed your first sleepover?”

“Definitely.” Penelope was still resting against him, her big brown eyes on his, and the words just slipped out. “Especially this part.”

She let out the tiniest breath, almost like a gasp, and he couldn’t have explained why but it felt like the ground beneath them shifted. Just a little, just enough to make her hand in his more than the comforting gesture of a friend.

“You like Dirty Dancing that much, huh?” she asked, and he realized her face was even closer to his. Usually if she was only a few inches away from him, she was angry--from this distance, he had never gotten the chance before to appreciate the arch of her eyebrow or the way she had a hint of dimples even when she wasn’t smiling.

And she wasn’t smiling at all now, her eyes dropping to his mouth before she gripped his hand a little harder. He wondered if she even realized she was doing that.

“It’s-it’s a really good movie,” he managed, trying desperately to figure out what was happening. He knew what it felt like--what he would assume it was with any other woman looking at him that way, her body so close to his that he was starting to feel flushed again.

But this was Penelope.

How badly he wished it were true made him even more certain that it couldn’t be. He squeezed her hand and let go, hoping that distance would settle down the feelings that had risen up to nearly blind him.

Penelope removed her head from his shoulder, but she didn’t move back to her couch cushion. Instead she stayed pressed into his side, tilting her head as she looked at him.

“Schneider?”

“Yeah?”

“Truth or dare?”

He was about to laugh, but she wasn’t kidding. As a dance montage played in the background, he considered it. “Truth.”

“What are you thinking about in this exact moment?”

Things I can’t have.

“Dare,” he replied out loud, and Penelope nodded as though that was the answer she expected.

She took a deep breath before she gave him his dare, and then delivered it with a smile. “The last thing you wanted to do, and didn’t? Do it now.”

She couldn’t know, he thought, his heart speeding up. There was no way she knew what she was asking of him.

But it wasn’t just the last thing he wanted; it was still what he wanted. It had kind of been what he wanted for a long time now--and Penelope was still smiling at him, sharing his personal space, waiting.

If only he was better in a crisis, he would have already thought of an easy lie to tell. Anything else. A way out. Instead, his mind was completely blank, wiped clean by the scent of her, her smooth curls brushing his neck.

Penelope’s lips parted softly while she waited, and he couldn’t stop himself from staring. Her voice when she spoke again was warmer than he had ever heard it.

“Schneider...I dare you.”

****

He kissed her even though he knew it was a terrible idea, even though he couldn’t believe she was inviting him to.

She was softer than she looked, sweet in a way he thought he could get addicted to more easily than gambling or snow globes. Penelope kissed him back with her whole body, her hands in his hair and her chest pressed to his, moving against him like she’d been craving him for a lifetime.

It felt as though they went from tentatively exploring each others’ mouths to making out on the couch in record time, but somehow an hour passed and they were still kissing.

She was breathless when she finally pulled away, running her fingers down his neck to enjoy the ripple of muscles in his back. He arched into her hands and she grinned.

“We’re going to be so tired in the morning,” Penelope told him, biting down on a moan when his teeth found her neck. She would feel embarrassed about the intensity of her reaction to him, but honestly, she had been keeping her feelings bottled up for too long; what did she think was going to happen?

“It already is morning,” Schneider reminded her, tracing the mark he left with his tongue. Her hair would cover it as long as she wore it down, so he tried not to feel guilty, though he hadn’t intended to leave a mark at all.

Penelope almost lost her mind when he ran his hands up her stomach, his fingers on her ribcage, curving just below her breasts. God, it had been way too long since...and Schneider knew her so well it was like he had a sixth sense about what she wanted.

She only stopped herself from straddling him and upping the stakes because she never knew when a teenager might be opening a bedroom door...and because it didn’t matter how good he'd turned out be with his hands, and teeth, and tongue. It was too soon.

She sat back after a few more heated minutes, leaving his mouth pink and the sensitive skin below his right ear with a bruise of his own. “You’re right,” she said. “Look, the sun’s coming up.”

Schneider tangled his fingers with hers, watching them link and unlink. “Will the kids want breakfast soon?”

“Yeah, probably pretty soon. An hour, hour and a half.” She caught something cross his face and tugged on their joined hands. “Why?”

“Oh. I just wasn’t sure...if you still want me here. When they get up. For breakfast and all that.”

Penelope’s eyes flashed, and when she seemed like she might actually smack him, it was more comforting than her words, because it was evidence of just how much she cared. “Don’t be stupid, Schneider. Of course I want you to stay.”

The doubt in his eyes didn’t completely clear out, leaving them stormy and watchful.

“Come here,” she murmured, pulling him into a long, slow kiss. By the time they came up for air again, Schneider was too dazed to remember what he’d been worried about.

“Now, I figured pancakes,” Penelope told him. “Or maybe French toast. Something you can handle helping me with.”

“Hey,” he protested, “you make it sound like I can’t cook! I can cook. Especially breakfast.”

“Yeah, okay, Schneider. You’re a master in the kitchen. Sure.”

“I didn’t say I was amazing, but I can make some things. Breakfast’s kind of important if you want to impress overnight guests,” he pointed out.

“I guess you’re right.” She kissed him once more, this time teasing his tongue with hers until he was the one who needed to hold back from taking things too far. The sun was truly rising now, washing over them on the couch. Casting everything in a different light.

“After we tell the kids, and my mom,” Penelope said, resting her hand against his cheek, “we should go out to dinner or something.”

His whole face lit up, brighter than the golden glow spreading through the apartment. “Yeah?”

“Yes.”

The brush of her lips over his was so light, it wasn't quite a kiss. It was more like a promise.

“Then maybe you can make me breakfast.”

[thesardonicwriter]

Epoch, Chapter 1

All Might x OC

[Next]

A/N This is what I’ve been writing instead of One Shots. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure that as soon as I start watching The Flash again I will go into full on Harrison Wells/Tom Cavanagh mode, but for now, it’s Boku no Hero Academia. My Hero Academia. Whatever.

In a world where 70% of the population had some sort of power, showing signs of a Quirk was a rite of passage. Most people did by the time they were in kindergarten. If you didn’t by the time you were four, then you would probably never have one. It was slowly becoming less and less common to be Quirkless. It was a fear of parents to have a Quirkless child. At least, some parents felt that way. I was too young back then to know what my parents feared. I was too young to know what was going on around me besides my brother and parents being happy. It all seemed to make sense to me, that we were all just happy. Why wouldn’t we be?

There are three days of my childhood that I can remember perfectly. The first was the day that my Quirk emerged. The second… isn’t worth being mentioned here.

I was sitting on my bed when it happened. I was listening to my parents argue over something or another. It was loud. It was something that happened rarely, but when it did, it was intense. It was to a young kid, anyway. I wanted to focus on something, anything, other than them. It was in that intensity that I noticed all of the small objects flying around me. I looked around in curious shock. Gently I reached out to touch a pen. It twirled around. This was my Quirk. My heart started pounding in my chest. This was it. This was my moment. It was the greatest feeling of my life. I could feel the power running through my veins, coursing through with every beat of my heart.

I also remember that feeling being replaced with dread and regret just as quickly. My brother, Byakuya, had come into my room unexpectedly, scaring me out of my trance.

“Aiko, are you-”

The objects surrounding me flew towards my brother. Two lodged into his shoulder. He groaned in pain and I screamed. I screamed and screamed until my parents came into the room, Byakuya gently shushing me despite the blood running down his arm. “It’s okay, little one,” he said. My dad picked me up and held me in his arms while my mom looked at Byakuya.

“I’m going to take him to the hospital. Hiro, please look after Aiko while we’re gone, okay?” my mom gave him a kiss on the cheek and ushered my brother out of the room.

I was shaking on my bed, my father’s arms wrapped around me. The first thing that I had done with my Quirk was hurt my big brother. I hurt the person I probably loved most in my life at that point. It was the worst thing in the world. Still, my father wouldn’t let it go. He wanted to know more about my Quirk. Or maybe he was trying to get me interesting in it. I don’t know. I’ve never asked. I certainly didn’t think to ask then. He offered me a reward if I could move the things he put in front of me. Pencils, paper, folders, even some of my stuffed animals. I just couldn’t replicate the power, no matter how hard I focused. I thought that that was it. I had used all of my power to hurt my brother. My father told me not to lose heart.

“Trust me, Aiko,” he said, “that was not all of your power. You see, Quirks are a part of you. Forever. They come from your body and yourself. It’s not something that just disappears, okay? So, I want you to try. One more time. Just summon something, okay? Anything. Okay? Can you do that for me, sweetie?”

I nodded. He was right. I trusted him. I closed my eyes and held out my hand. I remember clenching my teeth hard. Before I knew it, the objects were floating around me again, just like they had been before. I looked in amazement this time. I had done this. I had done this because I wanted to. The objects went around in a slow circle. Even Dad looked amazed by what I had done. He grabbed a paperclip from the air.

“Huh. Metal. You control metal,” he smiled down at me, pulling me into a great big hug.

All of my previous fears and guilt were gone with this. I had a Quirk. I could control metal! What was better than that? It was the best thing ever! This was the best day ever!

“Dad, can I go show To?! He’s going to be so excited!” I exclaimed, jumping up and down on my bed.

“Well, I don’t see why not. Just make sure to be back here before dinner, okay? We don’t want Mom to worry, right?”

“I wanna make sure Byakuya is okay! After all, he got hurt because of me…”

There it was. There was the guilt again.

“He’ll be fine, sweetie. He should have knocked before coming into your room.”

“Oh. Right! I’ll see you soon. Bye!”

With that, I rushed out the front door of our home and down the street towards the house of my friend. I waved at the people out walking. I heard a few of them ask me a question or two, but I didn’t hear what they said. I hoped that they didn’t think I was deliberately ignoring them. I suppose in the end, I didn’t really care all too much. I was just a kid. I wanted to show off my powers. I slid to a stop at the front door. I knocked on the door with the urgency only a child possesses. Another kid opened the door. He had bright blond hair and shining blue eyes that stared out at me with excitement.

“Aiko! What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I got my Quirk! I got my Quirk!” I chanted.

“Woah! Let me see!”

I held out my hand and concentrated. I knocked over the umbrella stand by the door. It wasn’t what I had been trying to do. I pouted.

“Telkensis! That’s so cool” He yelled.

“No! That’s not it, Toshi! Also, it’s telekinesis.” I laughed. “I control metal! Or I think I do. I don’t know, I just got it today.”

“That’s so cool! I can’t wait until I get mine. I bet it’s gonna be so cool. Like fire powers. Or mind control. Something like that.”

“Of course it is! You’re the coolest.”

The day that a child developed their Quirk was one of the most important days of their life. It was a rite of passage. That was why I could remember that day so well. So vividly. Nothing excited me more. Maybe that was why I could remember the second day just as well as the first.

It was the day that Yagi Toshinori, my best friend since I was three, found out that he was never going to have a Quirk.

He hadn’t been at school that day. He never missed a day, especially not the days when a Pro Hero would come into our classroom and talk about their job. Toshi, or To as I called him back then, wanted nothing more than to be a hero. He wanted people to look up to him. He wanted to save them and give them hope. He never said it in such an eloquent way, but it was what he wanted even back then. After class was over, I asked my mom what had happened. Her hands gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles were white. She just said that Toshi was sick. Nothing more. I think it made me worry more than anything she could have said would. She pulled into our driveway. I got out of the car, but before I could reach the door, she pulled me into a big hug. Looking back on that day, I think she was crying. I thought it was out of sadness, but now I know that she was grateful that it wasn’t her child. She was thanking whatever was out there that it wasn’t her child who would never have a Quirk.

We went inside together, hand in hand. I wanted to bring Toshinori something to make him feel better. If he was sick, then maybe he would appreciate some company. My parents exchanged a glance. Byakuya looked away, shaking his head.

“He’s not sick, Aiko,” Byakuya said, “he’s Quirkless.”

“Byakuya!” My father yelled.

“What? She was going to find out anyway. You were the ones who wanted to lie to her, not me. Jesus.”

With that, Byakuya left the kitchen, slamming his bedroom door. I followed behind him. When I knocked, he opened up the door but didn’t actually acknowledge that I was there. I sat on the floor in front of his bed. Byakuya was 11 years older than me. He had just gotten into the hero course at UA. His room reflected that. It had posters of famous heroes and papers from UA classes he was taking. He was even wearing the gym jacket. He stared up at the ceiling.

“What… what does Quirk less mean, Byakuya?” I asked quietly. “Why is it such a bad thing?”

“What does it sound like to you, Aiko? Your friend doesn’t have a Quirk and he never will. End of story. It happens to about 30% of the population. He’s one of the unlucky few.”

“But… what about being a hero?! That’s all he wants to do!”

“He’s just a kid, Aiko. Just like you. You’re too young to know what you wanna do yet. Every kid wants to be a hero at your age.”

“You’re becoming a hero, aren’t you?!”

“Not for the reasons you think,” Byakuya shook his head, “whatever. Now you know. Your friend is a Quirkless kid. Too bad.”

I rushed out of the house. Byakuya was wrong. Toshinori knew what he wanted. If it was true that he was really Quirkless, then he was going to be crushed. I didn’t pay attention to anything as I ran towards Toshi’s house. He of all people deserved a Quirk. I banged on the door. Toshinori’s mom answered. I dashed past her, not waiting to be invited in. I knew it was rude, but I had to see him. I climbed the stairs and slammed open the door to his bedroom. He looked up at me from the darkness. His eyes were puffy, cheeks red and shining from tears. He wiped his eyes and smiled when he saw me standing there.

“Hiya, Aiko. I guess you heard, huh?” he was trying to hide the way his voice wavered.

He wanted to be strong for me, I guess. Maybe it was just trying to convince himself that it wasn’t true. I don’t suppose that I’ll ever know what was going on in his head. He certainly wouldn’t tell me the truth now.

I moved across the room and pulled him into a hug. My face was buried into his shoulder. He was shaking. He was trying so hard not to, but he was. I just held on to him tightly.

“It doesn’t matter, Toshi! Because I am here! And while I’m here, you and I are going to go on the best adventures! We’ll find buried treasure and explore unknown parts of the world. You and me to the end! Right?”

Toshi laughed sadly. He sniffed and wiped his eyes again. “Always.”

It was a fun thought for kids. Back then, we thought we were invincible, no one more than Toshinori. After he learned he was Quirkless, he became reckless, too. He would get into fights he had no way of winning. If I hadn’t been there to stop him, he probably would have ended up with a lot of broken bones over the next two years. Still, we took care of each other. I think that was what mattered to us then. We just needed a friend. Toshi more than anyone. I kept my promise back then. We went exploring and searching for adventure. It was like a dream. Looking back on it now, I still smile.

I just wish that we could have held on to it longer. After all, I told you there were three days burned into my memory.

[dexcidium]

So I’ve been meaning to write this for a while now… my review so far of Fate/Apocrypha. Keep in mind that I’ve read all the way up to the translated LNs, which is only up to the end of volume four, as well as this being written prior to the ending of the anime. As of now, it’s only up to episode 23. Let me preface this by saying that I love Fate. The lore and that distinct writing style ever so present within the series. The (mostly) well represented servants within the series. The character interactions, the relationship between servant and master, and everything else in between. That being said… I’ll keep this part short because I am prooooobably gonna go on and on forever on my thoughts later on.

TLDR: The concept was interesting, hype and it had some really great hooks. However, it felt flat on so many of its percieved promises and then… he happened. Sieg is a black hole that made Apoc so much worse than it actually is. Everything is fucking weak overall aaaaaand once again, FUCK YOU SIEG. YOU WASTE OF SPACE AND TIME.

I promise it’s not too long.

Not at all.

Right, let’s get this out of the way. I think Higashide can be a good writer. There were some good characterisation throughout Apoc, as well as some genuinely well written moments. However, there were many failures on his end as a writer. And it only became more evident in the anime. I’ll get to that later. First of all, let’s start with what I liked about it.

Jeanne(Light Novel): Those of you that know me know how much I adore Jeanne. And since FGO was a waifu game, I initially only liked her for her looks. No hiding that fact. But as I read more and more, getting sucked in to the hell that is the Type Moon wiki, I started to like her more and more based on personality. Again, those that know me know that I find these vanilla heroines extremely boring and bland. (SorryArturiaIjustreallydidn'tlikeyouoryourstoryarcinFSN). But of course, since this is TM, there was bound to be more than meets the eye. Like goddamn, she’s a literal saint. Probably the most well known in the world even. I expected her to be a goody-two-shoes and nothing more. But BOY was I wrong. Jeanne: *prays for hours everyday*. Also Jeanne: *exorcises 1000000 unborn children, suggests to crash a plane into the gardens without even blinking*. Her constant struggle of being called a saint and rejecting that very premise was frankly quite shocking because of the established facts about how much she loved God. There was divide in her character. And suddenly she wasn’t this benevolent, all-loving saint anymore. She was Jeanne. A religious girl who fought for her beliefs, and died fighting for them. The world imposed to her a title that she didn’t necessarily want. But her characterisation ends there… at least the actual interesting parts. Oh don’t worry, I’ll get to *that* later.

The Red Faction: Boy these guys were fun! The Red Servants felt much more organic and light hearted compared to the other faction. Granted that part made sense since Darnic is a literal Nazi. Anyway… these guys were just so much more fun. From Karna’s literal and metaphorical roasts, to Shakespeare’s loud and outspoken cravings for tragedy, to Achilles’ constant and flirtatious admiration towards Atalanta (AKA the woman who beat up his dad), to the crazy, fucked up and manipulative asshole that is Shirou (not Emiya) Kotomine. They were just fun to watch. I could go on about the tinier details but that’d make this shit even longer… MOVING ON!

Kairi and Mordred: Oh boy these two are just… perfect. A father son combo like no other. And an absolute joy to watch. They filled a void sorely lacking in each other’s existence. And you can clearly tell that by their interactions. Kairi was edgy and cool but unlike someone like Kiritsugu, he was easy going and didn’t take everything so seriously. A cool dad. And Mordred… god I love this little scamp of a knight. Mordred is adorable in her own little way while being cool and badass like her master/dad. They were just a fun duo to watch in the series where master and servant interaction was rather lacking of interesting dynamics. These two just worked. And they worked well.

The premise: basically any other HGW times two. Goddamn was the set up cool. That’s all, really.

Right, so this is the section where I shit on Apoc from both a viewer’s stand point, as well as from a narrative and structural stand point. To stop myself from going on an even further tangent, I’ll be talking about Sieg last. Other than this part. Let me just say that he is pretty much directly linked for like… 70% of this show’s major flaws. But again… that comes last. Lets start off with the stupid points in Apocrypha and the disastrous end of the first volume. I’ll also be comparing it to the anime, which was a hot mess. Not quite garbage. That came later.

So… the characters. Way too many of them. It was evident that Higashide could not handle such a large cast. It was basically what a normal grail war was times by a factor of two and then add a little bit more. So what did he do? Take out half of the masters by having Amakusa straight up manipulating the entire thing. A good move I’d say… but there was still too many for him to handle. It was all over the place. But frankly, he handled the earlier parts quite well in the LN. There was, however, a gigantic lack of characterisation for many of the earlier characters. Of course those were the same characters that pretty much needlessly died off for shock effect. For example, Siegfried (henceforth shall now be known as Siegfriend) had me going “this makes no sense" rather than “YOU KILLED SIEGFRIED. YOU MONSTERS". And as a writer, if you can’t make your audience feel the emotion that you intended them to – then you’ve failed. And the series is plagued with these rather stupid deaths. A lot of them felt pointless and held no significant impact on the overarching narrative. They just died. And I didn’t feel anything. The delivery felt weak and half-assed, played for fake emotion.

And speaking of deaths, Darnic and Vlad’s… no that, that was fucking stupid on top of a pile of stupid. Well, this felt like actual lost potential. Unlike a certain other character… Darnic was being built up to be the main antagonist… and he felt like he would have been a good one. If not for the structure being a battle royale-ish. And it is one because people pretty much did their own thing pretty early on in the story. Getting back on track, Darnic and Vlad had a relationship akin to Tokiomi and Gilgamesh from Fate Zero. And that is the servant being more of a master than the actual master. This was good as we were seeing a variety if servant/master dynamics. Darnic, however, was no pushover. This man had been established to do whatever it fucking takes to get what he wants. And he had been succeeding too. Just what grand scheme was he about to pull off- aaaaaaand he’s dead. Dude talked a lot of shit… nothing happened. Not even a lasting impact. He just became one with Vlad and that was it. What the fuck was that? There wasn’t any sort of intelligence or cunningness that he had displayed before. Oh and poor Vlad. Man, he was the real victim here. This part I actually felt for. Because he became what he didn’t want the most. The Legend of Dracula. A vampire. And not one of Nasu’s myriad of vampire OCs. The OG, Count Dracula. It was meant to be an actual tragedy… yet… it left no impact. So when Darnic’s BRILLAINT plan of fusing his and Vlad’s soul together, while activating his Legend of Dracula NP, he was made out to be this near unstoppable being that needed all these powerful heroic spirits boosted by a command seal to be stopped. But really… he wasn’t. Fuck, he didn’t even kill anyone important. And no one at all in the LN. I was expecting him to pull some Hellsing Ultimate bullshit and turn the entirety of Trifas into a ghoul-infested city. But nope. Nothing came out of it.

He ends up getting fucked over by the ACTUAL main Antagonist, Amakusa Shirou Tokisada via baptism rites. This was meant to make him look powerful or whatever. Except the entire fight scene is really dumb because if you know anything about vampires, they have very specific weaknesses. Two of those are the sun and holiness. And not just any weakness. Deathly weakness. AND WHO DO WE HAPPEN TO HAVE!? The most famous saint in the world and the son of a sun god who literally has sunlight woven into his skin. This whole thing was made even more stupid but the fact that the initial plan in the LN was to wait until dawn for the sun to come out. Also in the LN, Jeanne was poking away at Vlad using her holy spear which she did not do in the anime. By the way, Jeanne can do the exact same thing as fuckboi Shirou. Only even better because she’s an actual saint and a Ruler. Plus she used Baptism Rites to exorcise Jack as well. Seriously, Karna could have hugged Darnicula to death. This whole scene is stupid, man.

Continuing the stupid death trend, Avicebron and Adam… god that was stupid. Roche you say? Who? Kid was barely a character. He was made to be killed. He had no build up. No actual back story. And barely a personality. In short he didn’t matter at all. But dear god, this fight was meant to be the Cthullu fight equivalent. Yet again, this was somehow even more anti-climactic and even more boring than the Darnicula fight. Again, nobody important died. They’re killing for the sake of killing. And it was just fucking weak man. I barely felt anything. Other than the seething hatred and boredom of course. And again, it was meant to make somebody else look good. Our “protagonist". Anyway, this fight was dumb and boring. Some good animation in the anime though. I will give it that much.

And this was the point in the series that everything pretty much got thrown out the window and it was evident that it wasn’t going to get any better. Jeanne lost her neutrality, literally 2/3rds of the Ygdmillenia family didn’t even really matter in the end, the Red faction’s fucked off to cross the border or something, Sieg is a super special servant/master hybrid rolled into one with super special BLACK command seals because he’s the super special protagonist aaaaand Jack’s fucked off back to Reika. Who at this point also barely has a personality and back story. But still way less than most people that have already died. And that’s just sad man. I, as part of the audience, couldn’t give less of a shit about any characters except a set few. If I didn’t know most of them through Grand Order already, I would have dropped this shit ages ago. And dear god, Jeanne still doesn’t have an established personality besides existing for SHIGGU-KUN in the anime. The LN does a far better job with characterisation. Even if it is still a heaping dumpster fire. And then they do pretty much nothing except side quest to kill Jack and exorcise 10,000 babies. Which, despite feeling like a loose end that they had to tie up despite being in a rush to go after the Red faction, was actually my favourite scene in the LN due to the fact that it completely changes the reader’s perception of Jeanne. Of course the anime version sucked ass.

Right, continuing on… this scene. It did not work for the anime. And I’ll have to start by explaining that Jeanne’s characterisation does not exist beyond Sieg in the anime. A lot of her characterisation outside of that was cut. Which is a damn shame because she became what I hated the most in an anime character. Bland, generic, no real motivation, no established personality yet somehow still being out of character whenever that shithead Steve-kun is around. Not only was Jeanne no longer the Jeanne I knew, she was replaced by bumbling tsundere who blushes for a wet sock. It was cheap and boring. And this fucking harem Romanian romance BS that was happening was so fucking out of place. It was evident that Jeanne had barely become a character anymore. She was just waifu bait like Astolfo now. Putting that aside, even in the LN, Jeanne still becomes a mess. While I have not personally read the last volume since it has not been translated, I have read summaries. And my god is everything stupid. I’ll return to this part once I cover the long awaited shitfest…

WARNING. As this is my personal review, it is very opinionated. And as you can probably tell… this is very personal.

Sieg. Oh you waste of space, you don’t fucking deserve that name. Like every both of his being, it’s half assed. I mentioned that Sieg was a blackhole in the beginning. And that’s because he sucks up any bit of good in this series whenever he’s in a scene. Good characterisation from well established characters? NAH LETS BEND OVER AND LET SHIGGU KUN WIN AND HE WILL BE LOVED FOREVER AND EVER BECAUSE HE’S SO GOOD AND PURE AND INNOCCENT YOU GUYS. Right, now that that’s out of the way. It’s time to dive into exactly why this dude is such a demerit to the series overall.

First and foremost, he disrupts the entirety of the story structure. While it could have certainly worked, it most definitely did not here. Sieg’s role in terms of plot devices was to centralise the story as a whole. However, Higashide went too far and just… ended up giving Sieg far too big a role. This, in turn took away a lot from the rest of the cast. Not only their screen time but their whole character. Yet despite all this “development" he was getting, he still barely had a character. Some may say that was the point. Sieg is indeed a blank slate that was meant to learn as he grew. But the thing is – he never did. Instead, there was this identity crisis that was never really addressed in the actual narrative. However, as it stands… the whole fiasco was extremely pointless. Sieg remains a flat character and his entire goal was immediately solved the episode after he decided to do it. Worst of all, there was no sense of struggle. Not even a spec of it. He just sorta did it. And my god was it so boring to watch. Even after when he’s trying to get his morals straight, it basically boils down to him asking people if killing was bad. And it just kept dragging on and on and on and on! And in the end… nothing came out of it. By the time they were about to go and attack the Hanging Gardens, barely anything changed. Basically, it was a giant waste of time.

And of course, we have to address Siegfried. While certainly, yes, you could argue that tragedy is the very essence of Siegfried’s story. Even in his own legend we were only told of his story through a series of flashbacks. In Apocrypha, Siegfried’s suffering continues. He has a shit master, he can’t even fucking talk, his brotp moment gets cucked by the fetus, and he never actually gets anything that he wanted. And as a result; he was sorely undeveloped. Then he fucking dies. It was meant to come off as a heroic sacrifice but… there was nothing there to latch on emotionally, as well as making no sense. For one, at this point everything about Sieg was just to make the audience feel sorry for him. That’s it. Nothing else. Secondly, the homunculus and Siegfried had no real emotional connection. They literally just met. Hence, making the sacrifice feel… well, emotionless. They try to reason it off with some BS about Siegfried doing something selfish… but it was still a selfless action. So I never bought it as a proper reason. Now keep in mind, that I personally was trying to keep an open mind about Sieg when I began reading Apoc. I had heard bad things and the stuff that people were saying pretty much embodied everything I hated in a protagonist. Except… it was a lot worse. Sieg is a lot worse. At this point in time, I didn’t even hate Sieg yet. He just had little to no presence or relevance, nor even a semblance of a personality that I did not give a Rin’s ass. Then… Siegfried tore his fucking heart out – his own heart out, literally and made Sieg…. eat it? It was… really stupid. Because A: Servants’ spiritual cores are their hearts and they wouldn’t be able to even move without it the moment it gets torn out. And of course before he dies out Siegfried gets his only redeeming moment… chock one up to poor pacing…. yay. So just when I starting to give a shit about Siegfried, he’s out of the picture. For this… thing. And as someone who’s aware about the consequences of having a servant’s body part attached to another human being (AKA Heaven’s Feel), I was expecting some consequences. Horrible, horrible consequences. But…

Nothing.

But I’ll be generous and gloss that one over since it wasn’t established in the plot here.

Now I may be going on and on about expectations and shit but that’s because literally everything in Apoc was trying to outdo Zero/FSN. Let me go on a tangent for a bit and explain. Twice the masters, twice the servants, a more exciting and dynamic premise. But in actuallity, every bit of delivery was extremely weak. A lot of it was just below par. I was promised something great but even as I continue to lower the bar, Apoc continued to limbo under it.

Anyway, back to that useless sack of shit. The anime didn’t really have this but my god… the following moments is what made me hate Apoc right then and there. So in the Light Novel, Jeanne senses a new disturbance due to Sieg’s unique (*rolls eyes*) existence. So as she investigates, she goes and talks to the black faction (they fucking skipped the theological debate between Jeanne and Vlad in the anime btw), until she finds Sieg.

Then she collapses because of Laeticia needing food still cuz host body and all that. So far I was buying it. Then Sieg carries her. O..kay? Then blushing… Uhhhhhhh…. and when they finally reach a village and was allowed a room for the both of them… it devolved into a generic light novel plot.

They had to share a bed.

Girl blushes.

Dense protag is dense.

UHHHHH

WHAT THE FUCK? WHAT THE HELL IS THIS? You’d think I was kidding but this id exactly what happens. And it was this precise moment that my expectations drastically dropped to near zero. It came out of fucking nowhere. I don’t get why they’d not-so-subtly force this shitty romance between characters who just met in a primarily action-focused novel. It wasn’t even good. I could open SAO and whatever other clone and they’d do it just as badly.  And it was at this moment that Sieg became the worst thing about Apoc for me. But ohohoho… just as you think it’s hit rock bottom, it somehow goes BELOW that.

GO BELOW AND BEYOND. MINUS ULTRAAAAA!

Okay, so skipping a couple of events, Jeanne fucks back off to the main battle where the Red Faction actually gets their shit together. She does nothing but run around for the entire volume. Like. Literally does nothing except save wet sock’s ass. Anyway, while everyone else is having rather personal battles with Chiron fighting his former pupil, Achilles, the two Lancers/Aces of them having one hell of a fight and arguing their religious beliefs, Fran confronts fuccboi Shirou and gets screwed over by Shakespeare’s NP (and we get to see her real struggles as well as a bit more on how Caules is as a master), Astolfo being a loser as always, Atalanta being… whatever she was doing, she doesn’t really get interesting until after, and Mordred being the shitty driver she is, giving Kairi a heart attack. Right so before this gigantic fight happens, Sieg finally decides that he wanted to save his homunculus buddies. Which is a fine motivation. …that got immediately solved because everyone else was too busy actually fighting. Zero tension or risk here. Anyway after one of his major character motivations gets solved so stupidly easily, he decides to pull a Shirou Emiya (only a lot worse and he doesn’t make sense) and fight the servants. In which Mordred immediately kills his ass but is the only one that does damage for some reason (gotta make him seem useful and interesting), despite Fran doing next to no damage. The servant. Doing no damage. But this guy did. O… okay. So he gets killed, I rejoice like Kirei when he hears an Emiya is participating in a HGW on Christmas day, the evil is defeated, the world is a better pla- and he’s alive. Once again. Not even an episode later. Absolutely no tension. Do you see what my problem is with wet sock as a character? There’s almost no stakes for him. No proper emotional connections to a lot of characters. Characters die for him to live. Said characters who have never even had a conversation with him prior. So tell me how am I supposed to feel? Certainly not satisfied or even happy. In fact I’m frustrated that a far more interesting character died so that this bland fucko could live. And it doesn’t even make sense! He gets a fucking power up too for whatever fucking reason. So Fran accidentally zaps him back to life when she sacrifices himself to kill Mordred. Now he has command spells that are black (because HE’S SO SUPER SPECIAL YOU GUYS). And he can now turn into Siegfried.

What kind of stupid writing is this? It makes no sense. Progression is fucking stupid. No explanation. No proper emotional connection. No proper stakes. No risks. And above all else… there’s no entertainment. I’m so goddamn bored. And I’m already sick of our main protagonist. And he takes up a lot of the time. I can’t connect to this character. Even if I can’t relate to his struggle, I should be able to at least feel for him. But I didn’t. Because I know that somehow, someway, he’ll BS his way through it with fake struggle that has no tension. Wet sock is lacking in every single area. And him being the protagonist highlights his shittiness as a character. Honestly, he could have worked if they didn’t have a forced romance or if he was the main character. He could have provided the view of the homunculus. Instead Toole, who barely appears, does a better fucking job of that more than the guy that takes up half the screen time. And at this point, I’d rather have him gone completely rather than try and make him even remotely interesting. Even his introduction was sketchy to me. It was just a whole lot of “FEEL SORRY FOR ME. ARE YOU FEELING IT NOW MISTER KRABS? ARE YOU REALLY FEELING IT??????”. But I didn’t. I didn’t know shit about this fucko. Why should I care? There was nothing to latch on to, no emotional hook. Not even an interesting characteristic. And he never develops one. Instead, I feel like he just steals shit. Just like him receiving Siegfried’s heart and taking half his name, his entire character is half-assed.  Not quite a self insert because there isn’t a power fantasy to be fulfilled. That sort of fantasy is immediately ruined because he literally turns into someone else. Can’t really project yourself onto someone who turns into someone else. A terrible MC due to him bullshitting everything and surviving everything with no real consequence to him. He just makes the story terrible by his sheer existence.

Right, so going back to one of my earlier points. That scene with Jeanne, Atalanta, and Jack. A very pivotal moment for Jeanne and Atalanta. Jeanne, who was a revered saint decides to confront Jack the Ripper, who is the embodiments of one part of the legends where he killed pregnant ladies or something. I don’t exactly remember all the details with Jack. Anyway, the important part is that Jack is made up of a bunch of unborn souls. Children. And Atalanta, whose wish is for the happiness of all the children in the world, sees all this. The horror of the tormented children, not even a chance given to live. She’s hit right at the core of her being because she was abandoned by her own parents on a mountain for not being a male in her legend. So Jeanne’s decided that she can’t save these children. They’re already long gone. Of course Atalanta was forcing her own beliefs towards this revered saint. It seemed that to Atalanta, saints were miracle workers, they could do crazy things. And historically, yes, that was exactly who they were. And as Jeanne rejects the very notion of being pronounced as saint, saying that she was nothing more than a village girl who answered god’s calling, she demolishes Atalanta’s view. The Archer’s entire world. And with the baptism rites going, Atalanta screaming for her to stop, and Jeanne following her own set of beliefs… it was a very personal moment for all of them. In the anime, Sieg was there for some reason. He literally just took up screen time. He feels like he was just there. Added absolutely nothing and just wasted time. And this annoyed me because this was a very personal moment for two other characters. Yet this wet sock is just… there. Intrusive. Like he needs to be included in everything. It was an absolutely well done scene in the LN where Jeanne’s beliefs are far more established and she actually has personality outside of Steve-kun. Where he wasn’t there.

Basically what I’m saying is Apoc is really good when he’s not around. Seriously, it’s so much better. Achilles’s fight with Chiron was very personal, so was Achilles’ fight with Atalnta. When it’s personal, it’s good. Sieg has no personality or history with others. No emotion. No relations. Nothing. Just stale bread that’s winning against people who have nothing to do with him. And I can’t help but get frustrated at this goddamn show for that.

OKAY: Lightning round of shitty wet sock things:

Spends a fuck tonne of time asking people “are humans bad hurr durr” and comes out with the solution that he basically wants to be hero of justice and protect humanity or whatever. It’s never stated in the anime but this is what Siegfried wanted. So he’s stealing personal character motivations too. Waste of episodes that could have been used developing far more interesting characters.

Jeanne (in the anime ESPECIALLY) only exists to be his love interest. She isn’t allowed to be anything more. And her big character revelation is that she loves Sieg(big surprise). She acts against her neutrality a lot of the time because of him. When she strongly declines picking sides at the very beginning. The reasong for this is that he has nothing to do with the war. BUT GUESS WHAT? HE DOES BECAUSE HE DECIDES TO GET INVOLVED IN IT. So there is no reason to protect him. She acts against her own beliefs so that she could be waifu bait for this fucko. They say it’s all Laeticia or whatever but to NO ONE’S surprise, it was Jeanne all along (yaaaaay….).

He becomes more Siegfried than Siegfried. Well in life, Siegfried could spam Balmung as fast as he could swing it. But he can’t do that as a servant of the Saber class because it’s a big Noble Phantasm. But guess whaaaaaat? Sieg can do that because he apparently also has galvanism from Fran for some fucking reason, and to pour more salt on the wound, he can upgrade Balmung to EX Rank using a command seal. Which, mind you has never been done before nor foreshadowed. Karna’s Vasavi Shakti was still more powerful thought because this dude don’t play around for some ho. And ya’ll know how much of an asspull this was.

Speaking of that fight, from what I’ve heard in the LN, he actually had a clear shot of Siegfriend’s back but for some reason didn’t decide to take it. I can’t 100% confirm this but if that was the case, that’s another thing of making characters act OOC. Karna would never let someone win a fight. And this is him with a time limit while wet sock has a shroud from Jeanne that auto heals him, a bunch of help from a bunch of other people. Yadda, yadda, yadda, ass pulls. He wins the fight. Fuck off wet sock-kun.

Jeanne, for some ungodly reason is unaffected by really personal things like her mother talking to her and reasoning that she shouldn’t have gone off to war, seeing her fellow Frenchmen die in the hundred years war, and even seeing the room where her best friend murdered a bunch of kids after her own death.  Yes, she knows it’s all fake. But when Shakespeare shows her images of Sieg burning at the stake instead of her and his decapitated head… she freaks the fuck out. Why? She knows it’s fake. She’s known this dude for like a week. You could argue that she feels personally responsible for involving him in the war. But once again. This doesn’t make sense. Sieg chose to involve himself. He chose to fight. He chose to fight a riskless war because he’s the main character. Of course in the shittiest reveal ever, she realises that she wuuuuuuuvs him. Fuck right off. AND DON’T GIVE THAT ‘LOVE WORKS IN MYSTERIOUS WAYS’ SHIT.

SPEAKING OF THIS BULLSHIT. There was this utterly stupid scene in the Light Novel where Sieg and jeanne see a couple or whatever. There was a baby or something. And Sieg asks Jeanne if servants could get pregnant. Of course, since she looooooooves him so much, her immediate thoughts were “DOES STEVE-KUN WANT TO IMPREGNATE ME!!??!?!?!?”. I wanted to hack out blood when i heard that was a thing. Thank god that it wasn’t in the anime.

He cucks Jeanne out of killing Shiroumine, the big bad antagonist of the series. The anime and promotional material is making them out to be rivals when they have zero ideological battles, have never even spoken to each other before, nor an allusion to some sort of rivalry at all. It just happens. At this point Sieg doesn’t even have any command spells and he pulls Blasted Tree(Fran’s NP, yeah he stole that too) out of his ass. Kill stealing bitch. Reported. Blocked. Emailed Harada. Email Jeff Kaplan. Perma-ban pls. Basically, Shiroumine was a shit villain because his plans weren’t really clear. Salvation of humanity was too broad in a sense on how the actual fuck he was gonna pull it off, and it wasn’t explained all too well. And with Sieg being the contender for the shittest protagonist I have ever had the displeasure of laying my eyes on, the main villain just became… fucking boring. I say villain but he was an antagonist. A direct result of bad character writing.

The so called romantic ending is an even shittier version of one of the endings in the Fate route in FSN. Like it’s a straight up copy. Imagery and everything.

Oh yeah, he turns into a dragon for whatever reason. Comes out of nowhere. Like zero build up. Then he fights monsters for the rest of his existence on the other side of the world or something. It’s really stupid. It’s meant to feel heroic but I don’t feel that at all. When a heroic sacrifice that’s meant to make me feel all sorts of emotions, makes me laugh instead, you’ve done a shit job at writing.

There’s probably more that I can’t remember at the top of my head. But there’s only so much that I can complain about. Oh who am I kidding, there’s a chat in one of my discord servers that we spend all our time at least a couple times a week on how shit this fuckhead is. He’s that bad, honestly.

To conclude, Apocrypha could have been great. It had a lot of promise. But it failed on nearly every end. The grandiose battles fall flat because nobody actually cares about a lot of the characters since more a lot of them are severely underdeveloped. And despite the narrative spending the most time with him, Steve-kun was a massive failure of a main character. He was a shounen protagonist in the wrong genre. Actually, he’s a generic light novel protagonist in Fate. And it didn’t work. Because fate is so much more deeper. So much lore. And I love that crazy, well thought out world. Wet sock-kun doesn’t have a place in it. Not in a narrative like this. Not in a world where depth can go seemingly forever. And especially not against characters who have actual strong personality and rich histories. And so, he fails. Sieg fails. The actual self-inserts of a character like Hakuno and Guda do a better job at fulfilling their role than an established character. And that’s fucking pathetic. I had more fun reading through Hakuno’s nurse fetish and Guda’s snarky attitude. Honestly, it is tiring. I was constantly frustrated at Apoc. I still am. The anime will be ending soon. And I’ll probably just laugh at how bad it is.

I won’t rate it or whatever. I’ll just say to not bother. But if you love fate, then go for it. There may be characters you saw in Grand Order that you want to know more about. And the servants are absolutely great. But honestly, just go read their source material. You’ll have more fun with that. But if you’re like me and are a salty piece of shit… the welcome to the club. There’s a lot to gnaw on.

Right so before I get massive flack for an opinion piece that I decided to write, and before anyone says that 'If you’re not going to say anything nice then don’t say anything at all'… I’ll just say to fuck off because it is my very right to speak about a creative piece. I’m not critiquing a person. I’m critiquing their writing in my own little colourful language. Critiquing a professional work, mind you. I wouldn’t do this to a fan work. And again, it’s an opinion. You don’t have to agree with it. If you liked wet sock then more power to you. I just personally thing that he’s the worst thing in the Fate franchise. Though people do say that Manaka is worse. I doubt you can limbo under something that’s like negative bajillion on any scale. Sieg just managed to offend me so hard when almost nothing does these days. And honestly, that’s an achievement on its own. Golf clap.

Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this. But hey, maybe I’m just a petty little shit who got his waifu cucked by a fetus, amirite?

[puddeneen]

fic rec: the zukaang edition nobody asked for

aka don't rewatch this series, it WILL fuck you up (and then drive you up the wall searching for fic that has long since vanished off the face of the internet)

note: a good handful of these will be gen and/or pre-slash. also by "canon compliant" here i mean, well. "anything not directly contradicted by the show itself." there's ... a lot of canon for this 'verse, okay.

New Favorite Thing by suzukiblu (post-series; humour, drama, romance) wherein aang struggles with a ... development, and zuko has no idea what is going on (until he does) An Almost Intolerable Titillation by Mokuyoubi (post-series; drama, humour, romance) it's hard being a fire lord when your best friend is an airbender with time on his hands Art of Lightning by findmyantidrug (post-series, canon compliant; angst, drama, friendship, pre-slash) aang asks zuko to teach him how to make lightning. zuko tries, and fails, and has his world turned upside down - in that order

The Tongue of the Flame by The Writer Triumphant/soleluz (pre-sozin's comet; drama, pre-slash) what's a little platonic frenching between friends when it's all in aid of mastering firebending, anyways?? we could jump in the ocean and sink like stones by warmth (post-series, canon divergence, soulmates trope; drama, angst, romance) wherein being the avatar comes with the questionable bonus of knowing your soulmate from the get-go Epitaph by knittedace (post-western air temple; drama, friendship) zuko shows aang the grim discovery he made during his stop-off at the western air temple three years previous stop all the clocks by SongofHopeandHonor (post-atla, canon compliant, character death; friendship, grief, bittersweet) avatar aang passes away at a measly sixty-eight years old, and zuko supports katara through the immediate aftermath as best he can - he understands the particular flavour of her grief all too well, after all sparring prompt-fill by avatarwindboy (post-series, canon compliant; action, drama, romance) just a friendly tussle between friends, no latent attraction here at all hahah a,,,, The Idle Mind by findmyantidrug (post-series, canon divergence; friendship, drama) two young men with a lot on their minds and shoulders spend a quiet evening pushing each other's buttons cloudburst (devotion, chapter four) by SongofHopeandHonor (post-series, canon divergence; drama, domestic, romance) two men and a little airbaby Long Live The Prince by Julia451 (post-boiling rock, canon divergence, genfic; politics, drama, angst, friendship) when chit sang joins the group, he brings some rather troubling - if slightly outdated - news to the table Striking Balance by Victoria Hughes (post-series, canon compliant, genfic; politics, drama, friendship) in which the fire lord struggles to produce solutions, and to refrain from throttling his best friend Seriously, He Didn't by InformalSpoofer (post-series, canon compliant; drama, friendship, romance, ust) in which zuko is absolutely not a ball of repressed and deeply inappropriate feelings, okay, fuck you Antebellum by Min Daae (post-western air temple, canon compliant, genfic; angst, drama, friendship) helping each other in small ways, one night at the western air temple when sleep proves hard to find Meditating Angry by AJ Rayne (post-western air temple, canon compliant; drama, friendship, humour) in which aang has questions, and zuko has resting rage-face Burn Therapy by Cadence (post-boiling rock, canon compliant, genfic; drama, angst, friendship, humour) settling in at ember island, aang and zuko share some quality time together while talking shit out and burning offensive portraiture The most important thing by Blue-with-purple-polka-dots (post-firebending masters, canon compliant, genfic; drama, angst, friendship) wherein zuko needs to get some things off his chest after their journey to meet the masters If we knew each other back then by Lily Kalanoa (post-blind bandit, canon divergence, temporary amnesia trope; action, drama, angst) in a threeway altercation between azula, the avatar's group, and himself and iroh, zuko takes a hit with startling consequences The Soul-Binding Series by ranty_rie/notavodkashot (post-series, canon divergence; drama, friendship, pre-slash) the unorthodoxed relationship between once-enemies and almost-friends (and the perhaps-more) Oh My Friends, My Friends, Forgive Me by Obvious Ghost (post-western air temple, canon compliant; drama, angst, friendship, pre-slash) in which switching sides is no smooth transition, and butting heads is inevitable - especially when you're a gang of kids effectively spearheading a war Adaptation by aliwildgoose (post-western air temple, canon compliant, genfic; drama, humour) zuko has some very strong opinions about love amongst the dragons hurt/comfort prompt fill by avatarwindboy (post-series, canon compliant; grief, friendship, romance) after iroh's passing, aang offers what comfort he can All About the Frogs by Victoria Hughes (season one, canon compliant; drama, angst, introspective) aang and zuko and their alternating points of view before, during, and after their escape from the pouhuai stronghold patron saint of the lost causes by warmth (post-series, canon divergence, arranged marriage trope; drama, romance, angst, open-ended) what zuko wants and what his kingdom needs may, sadly, be mutually exclusive zuko seeing aang with hair for the first time prompt fill by avatarwindboy (post-series, canon compliant; humour, romance) in which the avatar has been off doing his avatar thing for a whiles, and there have been some ch-ch-changes since he and zuko last met After Atlas Shrugged by soleluz/The Writer Triumphant (post-series, canon divergence; angst, drama, grief, slow burn) wherein aang assumes care of zuko's daughter when mai's death rocks the axis of his entire world The Mixed Tape by hiza-chan (callunavulgari) (post-series, canon compliant; angst, drama, introspective, romance) a morning in bed and a quiet struggle with zuko's demons zukaang superhero au by avatarwindboy (alternate universe, superhero au; angst, drama, romance) in which zuko is sad and touch-starved and flammable and aang will not stand for it “aang, grown up and being the avatar in peace-time” prompt-fill by suzukiblu (post-series, canon compliant; drama, friendship) wherein the firelord has a surprise for an avatar (or two) kiyi and aang prompt-fill by avatarwindboy (post-series, canon compliant; fluff, friendship, romance) because putting little kids to bed isn't hard enough without your best friend being a horrible enabler with you all in tangles by kingdra (aroceu) (universe alteration, highschool au; humour, friendship, romance) homecoming looms, as does aang's hopeless crush on his chemistry partner. he's totally handling it. Five Times a Prom Invitation Almost Happened and One Time it Did by DracoMaleficium (alternate universe, highschool au; humour, angst, friendship, romance) in which aang and zuko don't so much dance around each other as stagger gracelessly about, trying to feel each other out, and katara is eventually forced to put her foot down Hard to Resist by findmyantidrug (post-series, canon compliant; romance) an overdue reunion gets a little out of hand "chrysanthemum" prompt fill by corsetcamellia (post-series, canon compliant; fluff, romance) a treatise on why you should never let your guard down around airbenders - no, zukes, not even the cute ones His Place in the Universe by ice_is_blue (season three, canon compliant; humour, angst, friendship) shooting the breeze with your enemy-turned-friend while stuck in an ancient booby trap waiting for help that's never gonna come, as you do Untitled by amiko_16 (post-series, canon compliant; drama, pre-slash) oh, that toph and her jokes Rites of Spring by inlovewithnight (post-series, canon compliant; humour, friendship) reinstating weird old traditions and putting up with avatars. #justfirelordthings Following Older Steps by BlackEyedGirl (post-series, canon compliant; drama, friendship) an unexpected, fire-breathing visitor shows up at his door, and zuko doesn't need to ask who's responsible Pressure by kanthia (post-series, canon compliant, genfic; angst, drama, friendship) in which aang struggles in the aftermath of ozai's defeat, and finally turns to a friend for help Degrees of Need by findmyantidrug (post-series, canon compliant; drama, romance) wherein aang helps zuko pass a sleepless night (and vice-versa)