#if someone who knows more about music than i do wants to add/correct/approve something come talk!

[rapha-reads]

Hey. Has anyone noticed that Maestro and Ruby are similarly colour-coded? Black and white stripes. To go with both being musically-oriented and canonically queer for Maestro and pretty sure queer but as yet to be confirmed for Ruby? That's interesting. The way Maestro says Ruby is wrong and keeps looking at her like they're trying to look into her soul... I hope we see Maestro again.

Also, related but not directly, there's been an emphasis on music since the first episode of Fifteenth. Whether intra-diegetically or extra, music has been important for the past 3 episodes, 4 if we start with The Giggle. Between all the musical numbers (I haven't recovered from the goblins yet and now they hit us with the twist?), the Doctor breaking the 4th wall, Maestro themself, Ruby being a musician... It's not new of course, we remember Twelfth and his guitar, or Simm!Master's drums, but it is being put frontstage here. Is it because Murray Gold is back in charge of the music? Is it RTD's season-long narrative arc? There's something going on in regard to music in this series 14...

I wrote an essay last year (in Spanish and I haven't translated it yet otherwise I'd be posting it) comparing Segun Akinola's score with Murray Gold's and how both have their strength and serve their narrative purpose. Basically, Murray Gold's first score for DW (2005-2017) are orchestral compositions, full of easily recognisable leitmotivs and big instrumental scores that make you vibrate with all the instruments, the song itself sometimes being much more known, recognisable and popular than the work it was composed for (see Duel of the Fates and the likes). Meanwhile, Segun Akinola (2018-2022) pertains to the genre of ambient music, much more interested in the tone and the sonorous atmosphere, something that's very popular today (how many playlists on YouTube or Spotify, you know the ones).

Anyway, I'm not going to sum up my entire essay here, but basically the role of music in a cinematic work has changed over the past 20 years, and Doctor Who followed that change, and now with Gold back in the music booth, there's another change appearing, one where one aspect of this change could very well be the importance of lyrical songs. I'd need to research it more closely to be sure, but that's what it looks like at first glance. How interesting!

[natromanxoff]

Most of you probably know about the alleged tape incident of Roger’s. After constantly getting pissed off because of him getting called as “dumbass”, seeing people trying to find and watch the video (let’s be honest that is actually a little impertinent); now I am able to acknowledge better how someone out there made up some incorrect version about this, maybe even totally fake, story and the misinformation had spread around. It’s actually getting even worse when the incident in question might not have happened at all.

Last month, I have come across and received the scan of another article which had headlines about this matter. And guess what? While I was only expecting to read pure nonsense again, there was more about it - I realized that it doesn’t tell about it as Roger giving the wrong tape and it’s totally different. The Sun said “it’s stolen" too but everybody around has been saying “he gave it”. Before I start, I’d like to point out some important points: 

1. Be aware that this is, even though it has reached out to tabloids, a private issue. Whether the story is wrong or right, this is a story about a private stuff of them. Above all, Roger is already a private person himself about his personal life. Please be respectful at that if you ever say something about it.

2. You all use this story to mock him in some ways which I don’t really appreciate – it’s kind of like IILWMC –, don’t do it. I am not writing this down for you to change the context and make more jokes. My sole purpose is trying to stop this ‘gave the wrong tape’ accusation because I don’t see any source or proof regarding that. Send me if there’s any but I don’t think there is.

3. Always remember that these are only tabloid stuff. Most of the time, they are not credible or creditable at all. Those are the same papers which wrote all the horrible things when Freddie passed away. It’s hard to trust anything that those unreliable papers wrote about. But, at least, we’ll be able to see the origin of some details. Basically, keep in mind that this whole thing might not have happened at all but it also mentions nothing about him making a mistake - that part doesn’t appear anywhere on the internet actually, except on the words of fans’.

4. Let’s just not delve into this subject much more than necessary but only read the paper to see what it says. As I said, this post is written only for information.

We all know about The Sun article (May 4th, 1991). The one I mentioned now is from Sunday Mirror (SM) (May 5th, 1991). There is a couple of interesting points when you compare these two; that person asked for £10,000 from the first one anonymously and £5,000 from the second one by arranging a meeting; The Sun says they let the police know about it and some progress have already been made, SM says they gave the files to detectives the previous night; The Sun is somehow able to tell that the video was recorded in the previous year but also tells that it’s not known how the copy was made, meanwhile SM describes it with details. They make me nothing but more suspicious, like they are in contradict and something feels off. Did he request two different amounts of money from two different newspaper company by having only one copy to see which one will accept? Or were there more than one copy? If there were more than one, it makes me think that people would have found it by now. I am not going to question these anymore though, I don’t want to do that and it’s not my aim at all, because the main point I’d like to talk about and correct is how the tape has reached out to Douglas Lane, the person who tried to sell it,: by the man who was hired to do some work at Roger’s home when he was away. He thought the tape he saw on the shelf is a video from The Miracle album and took it home to watch so he basically ‘stole’ it because he ended up making a copy and giving it to Lean.

Lean claimed the tape had been “borrowed” and copied by a 47-old-friend.

The man had been hired to do building work at Taylor’s £700,000 second home in Kensington, West London, while the star was away.

He took the tape from a shelf thinking it was a video from Queen’s Miracle album.

Lean said: “He is a Queen fan so he thought he would take it home and have a look at it.”

And Douglas, who earns money in an unsatisfying amount, thought that he would get more by selling it.

“He had the sense to copy it and put the original back, but he didn’t do anything with the copy.

“He knew I was involved in music and told me about it.”

Lean, who drives a concrete mixer by day and earns £20 a night playing guitar in pubs, said: “I immediately thought I could make myself a packet out of it.

“It was my idea to sell it.”

Sunday Mirror writes that Lean said Roger edited the tape so that after those “sessions”, you see Breakthru video and he labelled the tape “Breakthru promo”.

“Taylor has no idea the video has been copied,” said Lean.

He said the tape was labelled “Breakthrough Promo” — the name of the band’s single from the Miracle album.”

I mean, really? I honestly don’t have any idea why he would do that. Why would he add a private video on a same tape with one of Queen videos? Why would he bother? If he did, why does he label it with that? Why does that worker get so curious about a video from 2 years ago? Maybe he didn’t have chance to see it in those two years, that could be the only answer. But why does he bring it to his home rather than watching it in Roger’s home? Surely, he wouldn’t see any problem at that as he’s fine with taking something that doesn’t belong to him. It’s purely a chance that he came across with something unexpected which will make him want to copy it at his home.

And after everything, this is apparently what Lean says:

But he insisted: The video was not stolen. It was just borrowed and copied.”

I can say a lot of words right now but I won’t… If all these things are really true, that is not an excuse of taking someone’s private stuff to copy without their consent, not ethical at all as he aimed to sell it and make it public. Ergo it was indeed stolen.

So, see? There is no “mixing the tapes and giving the wrong tape to a fan”. I assume this article must be the first place where that wrong version came from. And if it is telling the truth, there seems to be no mistake he has done here because his private stuff has been taken from his property unbeknownst to him. Briefly, we don’t know for sure if they had a tape and if it has really reached out to someone but if it did, then I believe this is high likely how it would happen.

It’s worth to mention that there is another theory regarding these news, that it’s been arranged to take media’s attention off Freddie. I can’t tell which one is true or if both them are wrong and nothing even happened, of course. It’s up to you, choosing whatever you’re going to believe in. But know that I can’t see any creditable source about him giving the wrong tape - so I wouldn’t suggest believing in that or keeping talking about it - and there might be more about this that we don’t / won’t know about so it’s only haste to make a judgement based on these. 

Last note about something regarding him in general: Please, don’t take the different versions of this story and comments about them into account when you form your opinion about him because only those things don’t define him. Or the other way around, “if it’s Roger, it’s probably true - he would do it” attitude is not really fair when we consider that it’s actually you who chose to perceive him in that way by getting influenced whether by the movie or some ‘facts’ around - they do not reflect some aspects of him in the right way. Always try to find an original source. It is not always only him who would have his fun in those various ways, it is possible for any other rock star. All of them did some stuff - sometimes some really bad stuff - but it is not only Roger (I don’t mean the stated story here though, I honestly can’t see anything bad there). So him being the one who is involved in this story doesn’t prove or provide any authenticity. If everyone complies with that while critizing him or not approving something about him, it is always acceptable and welcomed, in my opinion. And that is valid about everyone, of course.

[starlene]

I briefly discussed this with @chazmina​ back in, what, February, and wrote a note to myself that I should make a post about it... well, I guess time’s a construct and it’s always better late than never, so here goes.

The Problem with Emma/Jekyll in Jekyll & Hyde the Musical

So. I’ve never really felt any chemistry in between Emma and Jekyll in J&H the musical, and whenever I watch the show, I have a rather hard time trying to get invested in their relationship. I wanted to write a little post exploring why that might be!

First off, because coming from me, someone might think this is the case – I don’t think it’s because I ship Utterson and Jekyll. The way I ship those two (namely, a semi-unrequited mess of mostly bad feelings) doesn’t really get in Emma/Jekyll’s way. If anything, having an impending wedding to someone else enhances my Utterson/Jekyll experience. And hey, you know what the meme says, Jekyll has two hands... and he effectively uses them both to hurt many, many people. :)

But, thinking about Emma...

The musical, of course, does what every other adaptation of Jekyll and Hyde does and gives Jekyll and Hyde separate girlfriends. And at first glance, the whole situation with Emma and Lucy is built on some very tired stereotypes: you have the goody-two-shoes rich blonde for the good guy and the promiscuous poor brunette for the bad guy. The musical does little to combat this – but for me, the things it does make the situation worse, actually.

The Problem

When we first meet Emma in the engagement party scene, we soon find out she’s not quite what you might expect. Sure, the writing’s ham-fisted at best, but even so – instead of a demure little wife-to-be, Emma is rather sassy. She’s also broken off a relationship before, apparently simply because the man didn’t appreciate her for who she was. And now, she’s marrying a man of her own choosing, even if there are people out there who don’t approve of the match. Pretty advanced for (our stereotypical vision of) the Victorian era.

I think in some other story, this would be great! A quick-witted, self-confident lady to balance off the scientist with lofty ideals. However, in J&H the musical... first, the musical takes pains over showing us why Emma and Jekyll are a good match – come on, they badmouth the stuffy party crowd together! – and then, we see Jekyll take his leave of this fantastic woman to go ogle at dancers in a local burlesque house.

(Sure, sure, it’s a bachelor party cliché to hire some strippers, but even so. He doesn’t even hesitate. Maybe it makes a little more sense whenever they’re using the script where it’s Utterson’s idea to go to The Red Rat, but it doesn’t seem like many modern productions are based on that.)

Then, of course, Jekyll runs into Lucy, and we’re supposed to believe he sees something in her right away. Something, you might assume, that’s altogether different from whatever he sees in Emma.

Sure, the obvious thing that pops to mind first is that Lucy is sexually available in a way Emma is not – but then again, it’s six weeks to go unti Jekyll and Emma’s wedding, so soon enough, Emma will be too. (And even back in those days, I guess if they wanted to get it on right there and then, they could. I repeat, it’s six weeks, so even if they got a baby on the way right away, she wouldn’t be showing until after the wedding.) So maybe instead, Lucy understands Jekyll mentally in a way Emma does not? But if she does, what was Jekyll and Emma’s big song about knowing and loving each other as they are about? Are we supposed to think it was insincere? Or are we supposed to assume that Jekyll assumes that, unlike Emma who knows and loves Jekyll, Lucy would also love Hyde as he is? (I guess that might be it, I’ve previously talked about this with someone who was an advocate of that theory – but it’s still a lot of assumptions stacked on top of each other without ever making the situation quite clear.)

This all leaves us with a rather weird situation: Jekyll is in love with and getting married to Emma, who loves him back and is very likeable. At the same time, Jekyll finds Emma lacking somehow, because when he gives way to his repressed urges, he immediately goes to cheat on her with Lucy.

Of course, you could use a setup like this to argue, say, that you shouldn’t except any single relationship to fulfill all your dreams, and that monogamy is not the right lifestyle for everybody – but this show is decidedly not smart enough for that, and the extremely stereotypical way the women are otherwise handled doesn’t really allow for enough nuance to argue something like that. From a storytelling point of view, in a show like this, you’d except something a bit more overt.

The Solution

To fix this, here’s what I’d do:

I’d still write Emma as a feisty, likeable character – but I’d add in a couple of lines where the engagement party guests whisper about her embarrassing breakup with Simon and how she’s getting on in years, so it’s good she’s settling down with someone, even if Jekyll is way beneath her.

When it’s time for the big Jekyll/Emma duet, then, I’d write it in a way that makes clear something’s not quite clicking in between them, that they’re not quite in tune with each other (maybe literally.) There would be some clever lyrics implying that, while they’re dreaming of a harmonious future together, their exceptations of what their marriage will be like actually contradict each other. Maybe Jekyll doesn’t even understand Emma’s sense of humour, and when she tries to make some sassy remark about a party guest, he just stares at her, nonplussed.

And then, when Jekyll and Utterson leave the engagement party for The Red Rat, you could have Jekyll confessing he’s a bit worried about how balancing his work with the duties of a family man is going to work out. And Utterson’s all, hey bro, I hear you, but it can’t be that bad, I mean, correct me if I’m wrong, but once she inherits her father’s fortune, [insert ka-ching noise]... and then you could have Jekyll sheepishly admitting that Papa Carew’s fortune is something he indeed considered when proposing to Emma... but John, don’t get me wrong, it’s also that I’ve never met any woman I like as much as I like Emma, and isn’t that a perfectly respectable reason to get married to her?

And boom, then Jekyll meets Lucy, and she’s the one. He knows it immediately after seeing her: what he feels for Emma is nothing compared to this, this is the woman of his dreams, the only one for him, and no matter what he does or who he marries, he’ll never be able to put her away from his mind. (Shhh. I know it’s saccharine. I guess at heart, I’m a tragic romantic.)

Then, Jekyll’s dilemma becomes this: he knows that by breaking up with Emma, who’s already scandalised everybody by breaking off an engagement with Simon Stride, he would destroy her chances of ever getting married, and he cares for her enough that he doesn’t want to ruin her. He knows that by now, it’s his gentlemanly duty to go through with the wedding. What’s more, he obviously knows marrying a prostitute would destroy whatever credibility he still has in the London society – and if he ever wants to advance his career and make a real difference in the world, he cannot have that. He knows that a connection with the Carew family, and in time, Papa Carew’s fortune, would greatly help him to reach his professional goals.

And maybe Hyde treats Lucy badly not only because she prefers Jekyll to Hyde, but because somewhere deep inside, Jekyll and therefore Hyde is angry at her for existing – for destroying what would’ve otherwise been an okay-ish marriage and an okay-ish life. Because now that he knows her, he knows how true love (and lust) feels like, and a lukewarm existence simply will not do anymore.

What do you guys think? Does this make sense to you? Or if you really like Emma and Jekyll’s relationship in the musical and don’t think it should be changed, why is that, and what is it that I’m not getting about it? :D

[flowerwrites06]

mint ocean — myg

Plot: Yoongi clashes with a lyricist. 

Pairing(s): Music Major!Yoongi x Lyricist!OC (Name: Kiku) 

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Word Count: 3k+

Genre: College | Fluff/Angst

Tags & Warnings: coarse language, sexual references.

Authors Note: i didn’t realize people would like this little oneshot so much but here you go! 

“Another party?” Yoongi scorned, throwing his head back as he sat on the chair trying to rest his eyes from the books in front of him. How Namjoon managed to organize so many fucking parties in a year almost terrified the mint-haired male. “Didn’t you just have one like yesterday? With the jelly shots and shit.”

“Yoongi, that was a month ago.” Namjoon corrected, fixing his pink tresses while looking at the mirror. “I think it’s nice to have gatherings…you know to consolidate relationships.”

He scoffed obnoxiously. “You just want to fuck that singer with her little plaid skirt still on.”

The younger male immediately glared at his roommate. “Don’t talk about Minnie like that. She’s a nice girl, alright?”

Despite the light smirk on his face, Yoongi took a step back from his commenting. He didn’t know too much about the girl truly but from what he saw she was extremely beautiful to say the least and had a kind smile. He never really talked to her one on one. “So what’re you trying this time?”

“I’m not trying anything, it’s just doing a bit of socializing.” He shrugged.

Yoongi gagged mockingly at the ‘s’ word. His pink haired counterpart definitely proved to have more social skills in his one pinky finger than he did in his whole body. Which was something he both envied and took pride in. Knowing people was always beneficial clearly since Namjoon got a lot of opportunities from it but interacting with far too many people meant being worried about too many useless feelings. “I’m only coming for the shots.” He mumbled, tapping his pen against the open notebook scribbled with a few bits from yesterday’s lecture.

Namjoon chuckled. “You say that but I still manage to see a pretty someone sneaking out of your room in the morning.”

He pointed at the man with his pen. “It’s ‘cause of the shots.”

“Sure.” He grinned knowing the mint-haired male despite his demeanor did like a little bit of attention when it came to him.

-

“A party?” Kiku peered through the glass, whispering in the serene silence of the library while skimming through a few sources for her next essay. Blue tresses falling over her face despite the loose restraint of her long ponytail.

Minnie nodded sitting on the other side with her laptop open on her right and her notebook adorned with the neatest writing. “Namjoon said it was a small gathering so no need to worry about too much noise and all that.”

“You know what he’s trying to do, don’t you?” She leaned in so she could raise her voice a little but not have it echo throughout the entire room.

“Not this again.” She lowered her head, doodling a little on the corner of her page with her brunette waves framing her face.

“Please tell me you’re being careful.” Kiku searched the others’ expression. Namjoons’ intentions were a little blurry since she found him to be a decent student at least in the music classes and various music projects they shared. But anyone could be great at school work and terrible at treating women. It made her extremely suspicious especially since his attempts always involved a party with booze.

“Of course I’m being careful.” Minnie muttered, tapping her pen against the table. “There’s nothing wrong with going to a party.”

“A lot of college girls would disagree.” Bitterness laced in her tone as she scribbled a few words on the corner of her notebook maybe hoping to add some of them in the new song.

“Namjoon isn’t like that. He fights about stuff like that, you should hear the kind of music he makes.” Minnie defended.

Kiku sighed. “Speaking of music…how did they like the song?”

“They loved it as usual.” Though the girl did not sound enthusiastic in the slightest. “How long do you expect to keep your identity secret from everyone else? What if someone finds out before you can come out?”

“Then they find out.” She shrugged. “Everyone loves you and your voice. Let them think it’s some mystery producer that no one knows about.”

Their conversation got shorter and shorter about this whole situation. Minnie would try to convince her to show her real self to the public instead being under an alias. Kiku simply suggested that she preferred not being bothered about her songs. Writing songs without the credit allowed her to be more personal.

“Will you at least come to the party with me then?” Her expression grew a little desperate. Okay she did really like Namjoon. The two had been conversing and trying to spend time with each other for a couple of months now. “It’ll be better if you were there so nothing bad happened.” Namjoon would never let anything bad happen but it was more to reassure Kiku.

After a moment of thought, the blue haired girl spoke. “Fine. An hour.”

-

Regret seeped into Kiku’s body quicker than she expected when they walked into the loud and slightly crowded house. Minnie held onto her hand tightly to ensure no one got lost as they slid through following Namjoon to a circle of couches. Sweaty bodies all around them, Kiku wished she had not just opted for a fitted crop top and some baggy pants.

“You can sit here.” The pink haired male smiled patting the space next to him.

Kiku suppressed the urge to roll her eyes as she sat on the other side of Minnie, eyes struggling to meet the gazes of all the people in the group. Two girls were sat around a mint-haired male while two other boys sat on the floor in front of the coffee table centering them. If it weren’t for the loud music and people making babies in the kitchen then this would have resembled a quiet game night.

“Minnie, you know Yoongi.” Namjoon spoke softly gesturing towards the mint-haired male who gave the two a small smirk. “I made him listen to your songs, he loves it.”

She giggled nervously while Kiku merely smiled. “Thank you.”

“You write really well seriously.” Yoongi commented, eyes flickering over to the full head of grey-ish blue sitting quietly next to her friend. “What’s your source?”

“Honestly my producer writes most of the lyrics.” Minnie kept her voice pretty gentle despite the booming of the beats. She accidentally glanced over at Kiku when talking about her producer. “She’s the talented one.”

“Well you’re the one who’s singing it. Otherwise it’s just a bunch of random words on paper, isn’t it? A page from a diary instead of a real song.”

Namjoons’ smile disappeared hearing his friends’ comment and attempting to give him a warning look but Yoongi did not see him.

“Lyrics are still important though.” Minnie explained softly, not really wanting to see Kiku’s reaction anymore.

“Yeah they are.” Namjoon continued knowing Yoongi thought the same thing.

“Of course…when added. By itself, it’s nothing.”

“They can’t just be ‘nothing’” Minnie still smiled and it made Namjoon even more angry at his friend.

He knew Yoongi despised these parties and made it a mission to show how bad they can get but in front of the girl he liked?

“He’s right.” Kiku spoke up this time, all of their eyes flickered over to her now.

Minnie’s brows furrowed silently trying to tell her not to bring herself down in that manner. So many people found it easy to diss on her lyrical ability because she never actually showed herself to them. So they both had to quietly sit there and tolerate the incessant commenting until headaches ensued.

“Lyrics are nothing but random words without the song.” Kiku continued with a neutral expression. “Just like rappers are nothing but drug using whores that talk fast.” She smiled at the man whose smirk slowly disappeared. “Or MIDI producers are nothing but fingers tapping on a fake keyboard.”

Her comment injected silence amongst the group including a proper glare from Yoongi. One of the girls muttered something about Kiku being extremely rude while Minnie did not know what to feel. “I’m gonna go get a drink.”

Barely ten minutes into the party, Kiku already regretted being there and even trying to converse with someone who had the personality of a grain of sand. What kind of a music student talks about lyrics like that? Who the fuck did he think he was? Lyrics took so much time and energy. She could not even count the amount of times she cried or got angry whenever she wrote them.

“I need to go check on her.” Minnie muttered to Namjoon gently. “Sorry.” She touched his arm lightly hoping he understood why she had to prioritize Kiku tonight. Aside from literally helping her in her career, she always tried to keep her safe no matter what.

Namjoon stammered as the wonderful girl walked away from him to check on her friend. An immediate glare now shot to Yoongi.

“What?” The mint-haired male winced. “She said things too.”

“Because you were acting like an idiot with Minnie.”

“I’m not the one who’s desperate to impress her.” Yoongi shrugged.

“That doesn’t mean you’re allowed to be rude. You’re my best friend, I wanted you to like her too.”

The older male sighed as one of the girls leaned in to tell him it was okay but he knew it wasn’t. If Yoongi—god forbid—ever wanted to be with someone seriously then Namjoon’s approval would be top priority. The two went through so much together and there was no reason to dedicate themselves to someone if the other didn’t like them. Namjoon must have really liked Minnie for him to be so adamant on Yoongi liking her too.

Slithering through the heated crowd, Kiku finally stumbled towards the drink table where she poured herself a glass of vodka and some cranberry juice. She hated how one simple conversation still lingered in her mind like a disease. Hopefully a few chugs of the funny tasting juice burned through most of the memory.

“Hey…” A slurred voice lingered on her left followed by a trail of alcohol stench breath infecting the air in her personal space. “What’re you sitting here so lonely for?” The snap back man hummed sneaking closer so his shoulder almost pressed against hers.

Kiku immediately moved away with a roll of her eyes as she attempted to walk back to the circle of couches. But something held her arm back. “Don’t touch me.” She yanked away from his grip, briskly walking towards the couches now until she saw Minnie walk straight towards her.

“I thought you left.” Minnie smiled a little, moving the pair over next to the stairs where there was less of a crowd. “Look don’t worry about what Yoongi said, okay?”

“I’m not worried about him.” She shook her head, feeling like her words were a lie. “People have said worse. I honestly expected worse, he’s kinda soft isn’t he?”

“Hey! I was fucking talking to you.” The same slurring man stumbled towards the pair again, standing uncomfortably close to Kiku. “Do you know who I fucking am?”

“Someone who desperately needs a mint and better social skills.” Kiku snapped in a gently vicious demeanor which of course only angered the stinking beast. He grabbed her by her arms again this time enough to cause pain before trying to slam her against the side of the stairs.

Before Minnie could jump in, the attacker was pushed off of her and dropped onto the ground with a thud causing a deafening silence amongst the crowd including the music.

Standing in front of Kiku­­—at least from where she could see–leather jacket and a head of mint hair, back facing her.

“You know the rules, Kwan.” Yoongi spoke calmly though his body radiated even more frustration than normal. The party was irritating enough but a few frat guys seemed to think it was a breeding ground for assault. “Play nice or get out.”

Kiku rubbed her sore arm absentmindedly as she watched the drunkard struggle back on his feet while all eyes were on him in judgement. Namjoon already stood by Minnie’s side keeping a close gaze on Kwan.

“Just having a bit of fun, Min. No harm.” Kwans’ reddened eyes flickered over to Kiku who only glared back at him.

“I feel bad for everyone who had the misfortune of fucking you if you thought that was fun.” Yoongi smirked. “You had your drinks, get out.” He nodded to the exit.

Kwan looked around at all the faces staring right at him knowing it would be embarrassing to be chased out in this manner but even more so if he just stood here. So he simply chose the first option and walked away.

Once the beast was gone, everyone quite easily faded back into their normal atmosphere of dancing and drinking while Yoongi turned to face Kiku.

“Good rule.” Kiku muttered, folding her arms over her chest.

“Kwan just invites himself sometimes.” He glanced over at the entrance to check if he was out yet before facing the girl again. The question lingered at the tip of his tongue for a while before he spoke. “You okay?”

She nodded though her arms still had a dull ache.

“You think you should stay here for the night?” Namjoon suggested glancing over at Minnie.

Kiku slowly held onto Minnie’s hand. “No, that’s fine.”

“Ku, it’s okay.” She muttered, patting the back of her hand.

“Sorry that didn’t sound right.” He scratched his head, chuckling nervously.

“What my awkward friend is trying to say is Kwan might still wait outside after the party’s done so you can stay here till morning. We’ll sleep on the couch and you can take our rooms.” He gestured upstairs. “Gonna take all night to clean this shit up anyway.” He glared at the clear mess of booze and a few bras on the floor.

The more cautious side of her screamed to the top about a possible trap which may lead to extra problems then just going back to their dorms. But not a lot of frat boys would place literal protection rules in their house during parties. Hell they would be just as drunk and intense as that Kwan idiot. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea staying. Besides Kiku brought her work in her bag just in case the party got boring anyway.

Still keeping a firm grasp on Minnie’s hand, she nodded. “Okay.”

-

The party settled down after a few hours and all was left were the remnants of a whole lot of bad decisions. Kiku even spotted a used condom laying around on the hallways as they were led to the two bedrooms.

“Fucking hell…” Namjoon hissed looking inside his room making Minnie giggle a little.

“I told you to lock your room.” Yoongi spoke as he unlocked the door and led Kiku inside his private room.

A little untidy which was not surprising. His study table littered with papers either readings from his units or just scribbles that were hard to decipher. Bed somewhat unmade and his closet overflowing with unfolded clothes.

Yeah it was a mess. But Kiku couldn’t really judge him, it was heavy assignment season and her side of the dorm looked exactly like this too. Pushing off her shoes she placed it neatly next to the door. Padding over to the bed she sat down quietly while Yoongi grabbed whatever he needed so he didn’t have to disturb the girl.

“If you get hungry, there’s—water in the mini fridge.” He smiled nervously as he looked inside the little bar.

“Good to know.” She couldn’t help but mimic the smile.

“You can—use a T-shirt or something if you want for sleeping. Use the ones on the rack.” He gestured over to the closet. There was a subtle awkwardness behind him that Kiku could not understand considering how he acted in the party tonight. Did he never have guests in his bedroom before? Or maybe at this point he would be doing something else with the guest by now instead of acquainting them to the area.

Either way Kiku felt kind of safe with this new side of his behavior. “Thanks.”

Yoongi hummed in acknowledgement before padding out of the room, cursing a little under his breath at the mess made.

-

The whole night spent out with Kiku working more on her essay and then proceeded to jot down some ideas for Minnie’s songs. She tried to label them properly so she didn’t mix up the school work from the paid work. Sleeping in someone’s else bed proved to be more difficult than she expected despite putting on a comfortable black T-shirt that was offered to her kindly.

The surface of the bed was now just as littered as his study table but it allowed Kiku to concentrate a bit better.

Rummaging and vacuuming echoed throughout the whole frat house which would have been distracting if Kiku did not feel bad for the boys having to clean all that mess by themselves. They did organize the party but the aftermath still was not deserving of anyone.

Fixing her glasses back up on her nose bridge, the door opened behind her with a messy haired and clearly annoyed looking Yoongi walking through.

“Sleep well?” He asked.

“Didn’t really sleep.” Kiku smiled nervously. “You could’ve just slept here, you know.”

“Would you have been able to resist my charms?” The cheekiness seemed to seep in a lot more when he was in an inconvenient position.

“It would have been incredibly difficult but I could power through.” She stretched a fake grin before looking back at her work.

Yoongis’ eyes flickered over at some bold words written ‘For Minnie’ with a pending title next to it. Brows furrowed and head tilted, he looked closer at the words on the page. “Is that a—is that a song?”

Her heart jumped quickly looking at the page and trying to grab it but Yoongi beat her to it. Kiku practically flew off the bed, following the mint-haired male to try get the lyrics back. “This is invasion of privacy.”

“You’re in my bedroom.” He retorted, still reading the words intently. “And all you did was study…well—study and write a whole ass song, do you do this often?”

The blue haired girl averted her gaze in annoyance. “Yes, I write a couple of her songs.”

“A couple?” Yoongi raised a brow. “Funny, the last time I checked the credit for all her songs there were only two producers. Minnie and someone called Chrys.” His bottom lips jutted out skimming through the song again. “I just thought it was a fancy way to make Chris interesting but I’m guessing it’s short for Chrysanthemum. As in…Kiku.” He smirked handing the paper over to her now.

“You feel real smart, don’t you?” Kiku took her paper back and stuffed it back into her files before tidying everything else up.

“Not that smart. I’m surprised people don’t talk about you more.” He shrugged, fluffing up his hair a little.

“Well it’s like you said…” Kiku sighed. “Lyrics are nothing but words on a page, right? Why would people talk about me at all?” She smiled sadly, keeping her gaze on her things rather than the mint-haired male. This partnership and her own decision went on successfully for a long time without the girl feeling like she was being exploited or taken advantage of. Why was it that saying all of this to Yoongi out loud made the whole thing sound so wrong now?

Yoongi let out a deep sigh as his words replayed back in his head. “I didn’t actually mean to say that.” He muttered a little shyly. “I was…” Wow he sounded so stupid already. “I was just trying to be an asshole.”

“It worked.” Kiku unzipped her bag before facing him again. “But you made up for it too so it’s okay.”

He nodded before rubbing his face out of exhaustion. “Your lyrics are really good though. I’m not surprised you’re the only producer Minnie trusts.”

“Are you just being nice now?”

“No that’s too fucking tiring.” Yoongi chuckled and she couldn’t help letting one out as well.

“Thank you…again.” Kiku played with her fingers. “Did you need some help with the cleaning?”

“Namjoon owes me a few hours of cleaning, he decided to abandon me for a while to f—uh entertain Minnie.” He gestured towards the door.

Kiku raised her brows not being able to control the small smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “So are you here to entertain me now?” She teased.

“No, no no—oh…” Yoongi cleared his throat.

“Don’t freak out, I won’t pounce on you or anything.” Kiku giggled lightly. “Besides seeing the girls who were stuck to you at the party you and I wouldn’t work.”

“And why’s that?” Eyes unintentionally flickered up and down her body. It only took him now to see his T-shirt hugging her curvy body, plump boobs and luscious curves poking out even in the slimming color.

“One too many assholes spoil the soup.” She pretended not to see that wild gaze running down her form.

“On the contrary, it makes it more tasteful.” He smirked. “You know…spicy.”

“Spicy…” Kiku chuckled. “Sure.” She turned on her heel to check on Minnie, fully aware that Yoongis’ wild eyes would follow down.

You’re a respectful man, Yoongi. Put your eyes away. It didn’t really help when that beautiful ass swayed as she walked and her gorgeous waves bouncing a little. Fuck he wanted some of that soup.

[tundrainafrica]

I need to take this out of my lungs, HANGE AND LEVI AS MIA WALLACE AND VINCENT VEGA FROM PULP FICTION oof 💖💖

Title: No Foot Massages

Summary:  

'You’re taking care of a married woman, Levi. No foot massages'

"Romance was something that came slowly, a mysterious thing he never dared to test without putting the time and effort. Yet at the same time, he was aware that the smallest things could constitute cheating or ‘stealing’ with the right context and the most convenient explanations.

So Levi decided to keep it simple. Keep it distant. Keep it casual. Keep it fun."

Levi is ordered to take care of a married Hange for a weekend.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Note: 

That movie was just... a roller coaster ride really. 

This ended up a quick fic I wrote in between some meeting we were forced to attend outside office hours. 

You might be disappointed by the lack of sex and drugs compared to the actual movie. But I'm leaving my adult content for another one shot ;)

“A new mission?”

Erwin nodded and rested his chin on his hands. “Looks like our boss is gonna be gone for the weekend, on a trip to the Middle East and he’s leaving his wife alone in the house. You think you can handle taking care of her?”

Levi raised one eyebrow. “He has a wife? What’s her name?”

“Hange Zoe.”

“How did they meet?”

Erwin shrugged. “How else do rich people meet their wives?”

“They pick the prettiest woman around right?” Because they can. Levi added to himself. Somehow though, a name had so easily accompanied the face. And she wasn’t at all what people would have concluded to be ‘the prettiest woman around.’

Erwin narrowed his eyes at Levi. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“What am I thinking? I just thought she wouldn’t be the prettiest woman around. Not enough to attract the richest person within the walls right?”

“But why are you making that face?”

“What face?”

“The face of intention…” Erwin gave him a knowing look.

A face of intention? Even before Levi though could figure out how exactly he had looked to Erwin, the latter continued speaking.

“Do you know what happens when someone lays a hand on Marsellus’ wife? Do you remember what happened to Moblit?” Erwin asked.

Moblit? It had been a while since Levi heard that name, or has seen him walking through the hallways in between meetings.

“Well, our big boss sent some of his men after him. They broke into his apartment and pushed him out the window. ”

That was enough explanation at least for Levi to remember… Moblit was dead. “For what?”

“On account of one Hange Zoe.”

“What did he do? Fuck her?”

“He gave her a foot massage.”

“A foot massage?”

Erwin nodded his head.

“But… what if her feet just hurt?” Levi asked.

“It’s laying hands on his wife that’s the problem.”

“He gave her a foot massage. Foot massages are nothing.”

“By laying hands I mean, laying hands in a familiar way. It’s not the same as fucking her or eating her out but I’m sure you can agree that they’re in the same field right?”

Levi though, was still very much new to the nuances of romance. The world had only recently opened up to him and he was still very much unfamiliar with the cultures outside his own small country. He wrinkled his nose and sighed. Let’s keep it simple. “Okay, so I just have to take her out, keep her happy for just one weekend,” he asked. “And no foot massages right?”

“You’re taking care of a married woman, Levi. No foot massages”

“That’s easy enough,” Levi said. He turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

Romance was something that came slowly, a mysterious thing he never dared to test without putting the time and effort. Yet at the same time, he was aware that the smallest things could constitute cheating or ‘stealing’ with the right context and the most convenient explanations.

So Levi kept it simple. Keep it distance. Keep it casual. Keep it fun.

Erwin’s last three words, he kept like a mantra, a little guideline Levi allowed himself as he approached their mansion.

No foot massages.

*****

“Oh, so you’re captain Levi?”

“You can call me Levi.” We don’t use terms like captain in my job. Levi said silently. But he didn’t mind such a term. The way it had rolled off her tongue had been a little too seamless to have been worth a verbal correction.

Hange settled on the sofa in front of him. The sofa could have fit three people but Hange managed to occupy three people’s worth of space with the way she stretched her legs so messily and if Levi angled his view a little lower, he might have seen something which could have had him thrashed like Moblit.

“Levi huh? Well, given my husband’s position. I guess that makes me your boss too right?” Hange asked.

I only answer to Erwin, and by extension, your husband. That at least had been what was taught to him since he started his job. But somehow, he felt more inclined to listen to Hange first.

“You have anywhere in mind you want to go?”

Hange hummed. “My husband keeps me really busy… so it has been a while since I got to go out like this. To be honest though, I don’t know much about the town. Do you have anything in mind?”

“There’s a new diner in town… Niccolo’s been cooking for Sasha a lot lately so I heard they’ve been offering more in the menu lately.”

Hange grinned. “Then let’s go?”

*****

“What do you think?” Levi asked as they settled into one of the booths in the corner of the restaurant.

Hange didn’t reply. Her face was completely hidden by the menu in front of her. And all Levi did get in return for his consideration were a few hums of approval.

“Your husband is paying. Get whatever you want.”

“Well, I heard Niccolo makes a great milkshake. And Sasha said the seafood from Marley is particularly delicious… So what about lobster?”

“Then we order two lobsters and two milkshakes.” Levi looked at his own menu. The numbers came in two digits, sometimes three.. Something Levi had never gotten used to having grown up in the underground and he found himself having to grip the menu a little harder to stop himself from dropping it. “Wait, you’re willing to pay this much for a milkshake? And Hange… The price of lobster?”

“Why? What’s wrong? These are pretty reasonable prices. It’s not like we can actually get these locally.”

But is your husband willing to pay for the lobster and the milkshake of his own employee? Levi felt the panic well inside him. At the same time, he was still conscious enough to know that such a monster like panic manifested in wide eyes and a sweaty brow. And for once, Levi found himself thanking the lord for that awkward height difference. Made it all the easier to put the menu in front of him.

“My husband told you right? You take me out to do whatever I want this weekend. And I want my lobster and I want my milkshake.”

*****

“We just ate. And you wanna dance?”

Hange only had to look at the stage to answer that question. She had that longing look in her eye, and when she looked back at him, it morphed into something, an expression Levi could have sworn he had only ever seen in dogs. “Levi… You know, I never get to leave the house. Especially when my husband’s home.”

Hange didn’t need the explanation though. Levi had already given in when she had given him that look and we had allowed himself that extra few seconds to stare a little longer. But even before he could give a nod of submission, Hange’s face brightened. She quickly stood up and pulled him along all the way to the top of the stage.

Levi focused on the blinding lights above him. Undoubtedly, it hurt. But for someone who never did get used to having at least fifty people watching him, it was still a better view.

“What a lovely couple we have here!” Niccolo of all people was at the center of the stage microphone in hand. With his free hand he pulled Hange to the front. “Could you introduce yourself and your partner here?”

“Hange Zoe here,” Hange said, with the widest grin on her face.

The crowd exploded into murmurs and among them Levi heard something about a ‘big boss’ and a ‘wife.’

Hey shitty four eyes, you’re gonna have me killed. Levi had reached out his leg half way, ready to kick her in the shin when Hange spoke up again.

“No, Levi here is not my partner. He’s just taking care of me for the weekend.”

There were ‘awws’ of disappointment among the audience and maybe a few heckles. Before Levi even gave in to that bout of self consciousness, looking back at the stairs behind him, Hange had pulled him to the middle of the dance floor. “Come on! Let’s win this.”

The heckles eventually transformed into cheers but Levi had to shake his hips for a few seconds or even a minute longer than he wanted too just to placate that hungry crowd.

He couldn’t dance for sure. He didn’t have the coordination to move everything at once. At that moment, the only thing he did feel was his hips, he jutted out with a few arm movements to add some color at least. That seemingly ridiculous movement though did nothing to erase the nervousness and the tension he felt then.

He looked up at Hange. She was smiling, much more confidently. And a few times she closed her eyes and swayed her head to the music. And she was closer, closer than Levi would have liked. He pulled away, keeping the swaying of his hips and the waving of his arms in check and as he did get a wider view of her, a head to toe view, he became a little more nervous and a little more self conscious.

He was a horrible dancer. He felt it in the way, his body could only move in sharp movements. And he had imagined how he looked to the crowd, a constant mixture of cheers and murmurs. And maybe a few laughs.

But that was the thing. With a limited view of Hange, he could just rely on his imagination to give him a merciful picture of how he looked. But when he stepped back, Hange became a top to bottom picture, a moving picture, her movements too sharp and a little too stiff. With her as reference, Levi became a little more conscious of how the hell he looked at that moment.

Am I that stiff? Levi thought to himself. In reply, his joints creaked to the unnatural movements, his arms shot up and he waved them like he was waving some sort of sword. And his movements although swift, were sharp, they jutted in directions a little too mechanical to have been considered a dance.

And Hange who had closed her eyes, and shaken her head and all directions within a few seconds, who had shot her hands up in the same way, moving her hands and her chest one direction and another, looked fucking ridiculous too.

Levi considered closing his eyes for a second, to at least get into the rhythm and maybe forget the audience behind him, but Hange, with her eyes closed in front of him, looked all the more ridiculous having chosen to forget everything around her.

I could close my eyes and forget... And for a while, as Levi did stare at Hange, he considered following suit.

Levi found an alternative though, an alternative that was so much better in the moment that Levi didn’t even bother weighing or comparing it to anything else. He jumped for that alternative a little too hastily. He rushed towards her, until all he saw in his vision was her face, then when all he saw was her eyes right in front of his.

She opened her brown velvety eyes and for a second, they were the only things he was seeing. But the view had only lasted a second. Too little time to count the colors in her eyes and too little time to admire her lashes and how beautifully they all formed such a unique shape between almond and round.

“Levi what the--”

And even before he could start admiring such a view, he felt a blinding pain, smack on his face.

“What the f---”

The whole word had been against him then, not even allowing him a single taut curse at such a cruel turn of events. They were at the edge of the stage and it turned out they had been for a long while.

And they were fucking idiots. Or so, that was what Levi realized, they were idiots enough that they had only noticed it themselves that they had been going in too many directions at once, only when they found himself tumbling down the stairs.

And Levi did only have a second to process that part, before the world had gone black.

*****

“You won’t tell him right? He’ll kill me.”

“Believe me, he’ll kill me too.”

“So how are you going to explain that,” Levi asked, gesturing a little too subtly at Hange’s swollen ankle propped on the coffee table in front of her.

“Well, how are you gonna explain that…” Hange asked, gesturing at him in general.

Levi didn’t have to look at the mirror to know what she was talking about. His skin was taut and he felt a dull pain spread out across his nose, he was sure at the best case scenario his nose and his cheeks were bruised. But that was the least of his problems then, he wasn’t sure if he’d still be alive and worrying about a possibly broken nose by the end of that week.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t care too much of a minion is bruised up. The more important thing is his wife doesn’t come out of this worse off.” Levi got up and went to the kitchen. “You’re going to have to wrap that.”

Levi’s penchant for cleanliness and orderliness had made it a little too easy for him to deduce where the first aid supplies would be hidden in such a high end house and Levi found himself back in the living room a second later, bandages in hand. He dropped it on the coffee table next to her.

“Here,” he said. He sat in front of her, leaning one elbow on his knee, propping his chin on his elbow.

Hange only returned his look, with an expectant one of her own.

“What?”

“Well…” Hange stretched out. “It would be a little awkward if I tried to bind my own ankle right? What if I fall off the couch?”

No foot massages. Erwin’s words echoed in Levi’s mind as he stared at the swollen foot in front of him for a little longer than what would have been normal.

And Hange noticed. “You don’t know how?”

“I know how to bind a sprained ankle.”

“Then why don’t you?”

No Foot Massages. Their words loomed on him like a ghost and as Levi gripped the roll of bandages, unravelling them slowly, he started to realize, there was no way of wrapping bandages on a sprained ankle, without caressing, without gripping at her injured foot and without pressing at a few areas as he tightened the bandage and got rid of the few pockets of air.

But I had to do this right? He can’t kill me for giving her the care she needs...

But just in case, he did make sure to confirm with her. “This doesn’t count as a foot massage right?”

*****

That weekend passed by in blur. Or maybe because he didn’t want it to end. And the world had proved multiple times already that it was constantly on a mission to fuck him over.

Saturday and Sunday were peaceful, too peaceful that it shouldn’t have gone too fast. Then, with nothing much to do but nurse his broken nose, keep Hange company, and nurse her through the first few 24 hours of dealing with a swollen ankle

And with nothing else to stimulate his mind or his senses but the brunette next to him on the sofa, Levi started to notice something a little more glaring.

“You haven’t showered since I came here.”

“Okay, thank you for that statement,” Hange said, not even looking up from the book she was reading.

“That’s not a statement. That’s a light suggestion.”

“Okay, I can ignore the suggestion.”

“It’s a request.”

“Well requests can be rejected right?”

“I would appreciate it if you explain why you’re rejecting that request.”

Hange gave her bandaged ankle a long stare, looked back at Levi then back at her book.

“Then I’ll help you to the bathroom.”

“No. I’m at a good part.”

“Well, I can’t stand you stinking up the house either.”

“This is my house. I can let it stink how much I want!”

Pulling her out of the couch had been a blur of an ordeal. He felt like he had done it many times before so even with the flailing of arms, the screams and despite all that, the great care he had to take with her sprained ankle, he had managed to forget it all as he sat outside her bedroom, letting the sound of the running water calm him down.

“You okay in there?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Her words were garbled, cracked between syllables and Levi found himself peeking in, just to check if she had been okay.

“Hey…”

A mop of hair should have been visible, even with the steam that blanketed the bathroom. Alarmingly, there had been nothing there.

“Hange, are you there? Hey, don’t die on me fucker.”

“I’m fine… Levi… I’m just tired.” Hange said, between bubbles and short breaths.

“I’m not leaving this room.”

“Then don’t leave,” Hange said, as she sat up a little straighter on the bathtub. And that was when Levi saw it, the hesitation, the recoil. He heard it soon after, the creak then the whimper.

“Tired isn’t supposed to be painful.”

“Well I’m exhausted and sometimes being exhausted is painful.”

Didn’t we spend the past few days doing nothing though? Levi thought to himself. But time had been an illusion the past few days and he could have sworn only a few seconds had passed by since that long dance in the diner. Even with the past two days of doing nothing, somehow he did understand the exhaustion.

In fact, he understood it a little too well. His own instinct had been to approach her, reach out a hand on her shoulder and squeeze. Her shoulders were hard and for a while, it had felt like they were pushing back.

But Levi was strong and he easily won that small battle with that knot on her shoulder.

Hange let out stilted breath. “That felt good.”

“Why is your body so stiff…” Levi asked as he ran his hands over her shoulder. He squeezed points right after the other, and her body could have been made of those knots and he wouldn’t have been too surprised. It was unsettling and almost terrifying.

“I told you. My husband overworks me all the time.”

“But really what do you do…”

“I work… I work everyday.” Hange said.

“Work for what…” Levi continued as he ran his hands up her neck.

Hange stretched her neck, letting out a resounding crack. “I don’t wanna disappoint…”

Disappoint him? His hands were over her damp hair, and he found himself amazed by how easily his fingers had untangled the waves in her hair.

“Disappoint?”

Hange turned to him and stood up.

“Disappoint him?” Levi asked. And as the haze cleared, as Hange stood up, and grabbed the towel, for a second Levi did see her raw, damp and very much exposed.

Exposed in ways that only her husband should have had the privilege to see. And Levi only noticed it then.

No foot messages right? Foot massages were actually very innocent things.

By laying hands I mean, laying hands in a familiar way. In fact, foot massages were such innocent things, Levi would have been happy to confess to a foot massage if it meant forgetting everything else he had done.

Fuck, he’s not just gonna be disappointed. He’s gonna be angry. Furious. He’s gonna fucking kill me.

And the steam chose that moment to disperse, the steam chose the moment when Hange was looking back at him yet still a good many movements away from wrapping that towel around herself.

And for some reason, Levi couldn't move. He couldn't walk away nor could he put his eyes up in some sort of defense. The only thing he had control of then had been his voice. But would she listen?

Either way, it was worth a try. “Hange, stop. Don’t!”

“You didn’t sleep well last night did you?”

Levi’s blinked back from that last view. That transition had been a little too abrupt. In what world would steam, with the silhouette of a naked Hange open up to a pile of paperwork on a desk? His mind had asked him then.

A voice had broken through his mindspace to answer it. “You looked like you were having a bad dream there. You okay?”

Levi looked up to see Hange clad in survey corps green coat, like she always had been, every single day before that.

And that… That was a fucking dream. Levi let out a long sigh. He wasn’t some low life stealing someone’s wife. He was a captain. And Hange was his commander.

“I’m fine. Sorry I dozed off for a while. How long was I out?”

“Around 12, I came back from a quick lunch and found you asleep. So looking at the watch now… Two hours?”

“And you didn’t wake me up?”

“You looked tired,” Hange said matter-of-factly, she said it too calmly that to Levi, it had been almost painful hearing it. Hange didn’t look like she had slept well either, her worry lines were more apparent and her eyes tended to droop a little more than usual.

And Levi found himself focusing particularly on the way her shoulders dropped yet at the same time stiffened. From a meter away, Levi could already pick out the knots on her shoulders and he was certain she never did give them a proper stretch. “You always look tired. That’s why I’ve told you many times before, give me some of your work.”

“No need to deal with any of those, I fixed the purchase orders already.”

“What about these?” Levi asked as he read through the topmost paper.

“I read through and documented everything already.”

“Then why are they here?”

“You’re still the head of the special squad. So I thought you’d want to review the purchase orders for the weapons.”

“I could have dealt with this myself,” Levi narrowed his eyes at Hange.

“Well it’s done at least. Doesn’t matter who did it.”

“No. It does. You’re constantly tired,” Levi said. “You might get sick or hell, you might drop dead at the rate you’re going.”

“I’m commander, it’s my job to read through all this.” Hange walked back to her desk and gently tapped the stack of papers on her desk.

“I can take some of that,” Levi offered.

Hange shook her head. “These are reports on the installation of the new train line. I don’t think this is the type of paperwork I can easily hand over to anyone else. Just read through the purchase orders, tell me if I missed anything.”

Even when Hange was requesting something with such a serious face, it had almost sounded pleading. And Levi felt almost obligated to look through every single one of the records very carefully, even after poring through more than half of them and coming up fairly convinced that there would be no mistakes among the pages worth of purchase orders.

No calculation errors. No typos. Levi had spent the last two hours before the sun set, even doing some quick calculations and estimations through them to be sure. Hange was thorough.

Before Levi knew it, the office started to come out looking a light orange, a far cry from the dull rustic brown hue that blanketed it most of the day.

It had been a comforting view long ago, when it had been a sign of the end of a long busy day.

But recently, Hange had been staying longer, even after the bright orange faded into purples and into a dark blue, even long after Hange had to turn on dim light. What had been the most unsettling part for Levi though had been the fact that she never did go home. When he entered the office in the morning she was there. When he left the house for the night she was there.

As if she were married to her job.

“Hey.”

Hange looked up, catching his gaze. “You need something?”

Her eyes were glossy from what could have been a constant stream of exhaustion and somehow that made Levi all the more determined to get her out. “What’s your plan tomorrow?”

Hange shrugged. “Depends what I finish tonight.”

“You haven’t taken a rest in so long. It’s like you’re married to your job.”

“I don’t wanna disappoint,” Hange explained. “Erwin made me commander for a reason.”

“We never got to check out that one fancy restaurant. I heard that Marleyan soldier makes really good food.”

“New shipments are coming tomorrow so I’m going to have to go to the port and---”

“That can wait until tomorrow,” Levi approached her table, placing his hand gently on the edge. “One night. Forget about your work for one night. I promise, we’ll have a great time.”

Hange raised one eyebrow. “A great time? It’s been a while since I had one.”

“And all I’m asking for is one night. You’re not happy married to your work.”

Hange sighed. “Actually you might be right. I have been pretty miserable lately. Maybe because I never give myself a break.” She pushed the papers haphazardly to one side of the table. “One night,” she repeated.

They could have taken the carriage to the restaurant and could have been there in five minutes. But somehow, Levi was scrambling for reasons to make the night last longer. And Hange didn’t protest.

They were walking through the more silent parts of town. The walk took them through winding paths that only prolonged their trek to the restaurant. Although they were very much familiar with that part of town, neither of them protested such a silent decision.

“You know, you were smiling in your sleep for a while,” Hange said.

“Was I?”

“Then suddenly, you were frowning. Then you woke up screaming,” Hange said, widening her eyes in emphasis. “Was it a bad dream?”

Was it?  “I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?”

“It had good parts and bad parts.”

“What makes you say that?”

“There were a lot of things which happened there, which I wish could happen in real life… And other parts were just…” Levi trailed off. He felt himself shudder just thinking of that phantom husband of Hange.

“Things you wish could happen? You mean… like a happy ending after the war or something?”

Some of the pictures though had Levi cringing and unable to stop that grimace that played at his lips. Levi looked away as soon as he felt the blood rush to his face. “What about… You enjoy tonight… Like enjoy to your heart’s content, take a great rest. And I’ll tell you.”

“I think this is the first time I’ve seen you so eager to hide something from me. ” Hange let out one whistle, one provocative whistle that only served to make Levi’s blood boil. “But I’ll hold you to do that.

[allycryz]

‘ you’re exhausted, [nickname of your choice]. ’ haurche x emet <3 IF your reblog was requesting prompts, if it wasn't, then no pressure! (:

It was! Please enjoy!

Timeline: post-ShB, Hades and Nerys are together. Loosely set after this prompt fill but not at all needed to read before reading this. Hades is struggling coming to terms with the fact that he is in love with Thancred and Y’shtola, and now here comes Haurchefant

Food cw

Hades dissipated out of the bed in a rush of aether.

They slept too lightly for him to rearrange things–shift Nerys into the space left between her and Thancred. And he might need the opening if he chose to return. Might. It was hardly comfortable, cramming five people into this bed. Fortunate, that Urianger chose this week to sequester himself in Thanalan.

The four of them remained asleep. For a breath of a moment he thought Haurchefant opened his eyes. But no, the man remained in perfect repose with Y’shtola curled up in his arms. Both in easy, peaceful sleep after bells of activity.

No one else was in the kitchen when he shuffled in, bleary-eyed and less than sure-footed. Blessedly empty...and cursedly understocked. He had balanced Tataru’s ledgers himself last week before his departure. Someone had been greedy about taking more than their share.

A fine homecoming. He rubbed at his now-healed hip as he considered what remained. The laceration was long gone before he returned from the mission Nerys had sent him on–handling a crowd of wealthy mages set on a coup in Ishgard. His own magic had repaired the damage before his “welcoming party” could fuss over it. And still, Y’shtola had stroked her claws over it and given him a pointed look.

Peppermint tea was the best of the options. No hardship truly, but coffee or his preferred types of tea would have been preferable. At least the Ironworks appliances were in good working order. Naturally, the most reliable components of his past-midnight drink were of Garlean make.

“I’m surprised you’re awake.”

Hades near bit his tongue at the sound. He must be tired if he hadn’t detected someone approaching. “Last I saw you, my lord, you looked dead asleep.”

“Oh I’ve been drifting in and out. What are you having?” There was all the room in the world for Haurchefant to stand on either side of him. Instead, the man put himself directly behind Hades and peered over his shoulder. “I did not know you liked peppermint tea.”

“It’s fine. There is nothing else available.”

“Incorrect, dear Hades.” His breath fluttered against Hades’ ear before he moved to the cupboard a few paces away. He felt along the wood panel...and tapped before opening it. Prior, it had contained nothing but containers for leftovers. Now it held a bevy of baking supplies, including several bars of expensive Ishagrdian bittersweet chocolate. “Fetch me the milk and heavy cream, if you please. If we only have one of those, we shall make do.”

“Did you do this? I did not think your thaumaturgy lessons had advanced this far.” He ignored the request to examine the working. This had also escaped his notice, the charms for it dormant and cloaked until Haurchefant roused them.

“No no, all I did was provide the ‘key’, as it were. Luckily, I have an intimate acquaintance with several renowned mages and scholars.” It was a difficult thing, to straddle the line of lechery and love in one expression. Most tried and failed. Yet, here was a shining example, so bright that it could hurt the dark aether Hades drew upon. “The milk and-”

“Yes, yes, I’ll fetch them.”

There was no heavy cream but they did have prodigious amount of milk in the icebox. He brought it over to the other man, who set to chopping chocolate upon the wooden cutting board shaped like a very rotund cat.

“...I do need to ask,” Haurchefant said amidst the rhythmic chopping. “Why did you not simply magic yourself a cup of your preferred beverage?”

Hades dropped his face into one hand with a very long, very exasperated sigh. The other hand flicked into the air, providing Haurchefant with a bottle of the heavy cream they lacked.  “It goes without saying, you will not mention this.”

“Of course not,” Haurchefant chuckled. He set the knife down and wiped his hands with the nearby towel. “Darling man, you’re exhausted aren’t you?”

“Even I can be depleted at times.”

“If I may be so bold-”

“My dear ser, when have you ever hesitated before?”

“More than you might imagine.” He caught the long tie of Hades’ robe, rubbing the silken fabric between thumb and forefinger. The mirth diminished in his eyes, replaced with something softer, more vulnerable. And that same, often-aggravating core of resiliency he always carried with him. “I will be bold then. You undertook a perilous mission, traveled a long way back to great aetheric cost, and then was promptly ravished by three lovely people and their very handsome Ishgardian. Why are you not sound asleep in the bed right now?

“Strange as it may seem...sometimes one can be so exhausted, you cannot sleep.” Hades tugged the sash away, gesturing at the ingredients. “Come now, you need to heat the dairy.”

“I have been fortunate enough not to experience that. Though I have witnessed it in Nerys sometimes.” With that, Haurchefant set to obedience; dutifully measuring out the liquids, the sugar, the small amount of espresso. He had witnessed the man cook before but never with exact amounts. Haurchefant was more likely to add by eye and by taste than employ the cups and spoons he did then.

“Though I am sorry it exhausted you into insomnia…” Haurchefant plucked a whisk from the drawer. “I am glad you allowed us to welcome you back properly.”

Hades made a show of studying his nails. The black paint had chipped dreadfully since Nerys painted them last. He willed the color away with a brush of magic–he would ask her for a new manicure in the morning. “You may have noticed, ser, that I enjoy the carnal pleasures.”

“I may have noticed it once or twice, yes.” The metal spokes of the whisk made light music upon the saucepan as Haurchefant studied the edges. Poised to move as soon as the correct bubbles appeared.

Haurchefant hummed a somewhat familiar tune. An old Ishgradian nursery song, Hades guessed. Abominably catchy, sure to haunt him for hours going forward. The man made it charming enough to forgive him for it.

The saucepan left the flame, chocolate dropped into the mixture. The rich aroma filled the air and Hades felt something in him relax at it. He’d never had much of a sweet tooth but chocolate...that was a concept he approved of. Haurchefant filled two delicate cups and brought them to the table in the corner, beckoning him to join.

Hades set himself in the chair, crossing one leg over the other. The first sip of chocolate was everything the aroma promised: rich, dark, sweet but not overly so. Perhaps he would be able to sleep tonight.

“Do you like it?”

“Quality as always, Lord Emissary.” Hades inclined his head. “I hope it remedies whatever has you up and about at such a forsaken hour.”

“Truly? I got out of bed to check on you.”

“Kind of you,” said Hades, ignoring the treacherous pain in his chest. Determined not to give in to the tenderness of the statement. “But also: nosy. Dear dear, what shall be done with you?”

“If I recall…” Haurchefant’s eyebrows rose. “You made excellent use of me this evening.”

“Yes, Nerys does like to see you in raptures. And I am nothing if not generous to my lovers.”

"How generous? What might I receive from you?"

If Haurchefant wanted to play this game, Hades would oblige. (It certainly was steadier ground.) “For one, you might receive the gift of my receiving. You gave to everyone else but me.”

“Oh but Hades…” Haurchefant learned forward and curled his index finger under Hades’ chin. "Would you deny me the sight of you thrusting? Every time you do...Fury but you're radiant. And you feel perfect."

Sweeter words had been spoken in his ear, similar overtures made in far more sensual environs. But Haurchefant speaking those words in the dark kitchen, gazing at him like that-

-he found it very hard to breathe or think of a response. 

Instinct took over, millenia of etiquette stamped into his bones. Mores and gestures changed over time and place but many classics were the same as they had been in Amaurot. He caught Haurchefant’s hand and kissed it with a mild, seated bow. 

He found his voice and looked up with his sly, ready smile. And Haurchefant looked at him with such aching sweetness that it broke him again. The next innuendo caught in his throat and instead he said, “Nerys was right, when she called you a poetic soul.”

“Thank you, dear Hades.” He rose and Hades braced himself for the kiss, the caress of hand upon cheek. The table might support their weight though the floor would be better-

His lips dropped upon the crown of Hades’ hair.  "I hope the chocolate helps you sleep. I expect you to come to bed at some point, lovely one."

"Even if it disturbs your sleep again?" Hades murmured, feeling the same treacherous pain in the hollow cavity of his chest.

"Ah Hades, it will be well worth it to see the happiness on their faces to wake up with you. All three of them." 

He departed. Hades stared into his half-full cup of chocolate.

--

"Good morning."

"Ugh," Hades dragged the pillow over his face. "Precisely what is good about this bright sun at this early hour?"

"I have some ideas." Thancred slid a hand into the silk robe. Tracing the creases and marks the bunched fabric left during the night. "When did you put this on?"

"Does it matter?" Hades grumbled, stilling under the light touch.

"Probably not." The cheeky knave took away his pillow and straddled his waist, far too energetic and chipper for a man with claw marks across his chest.

Hades sighed, looking up into that handsome face. “Where are the others?”

The door to the attached bathroom opened, answering his question. The missing three filed out in towels, robes, and damp hair. Y’shtola smirked at them. “Are we interrupting?”

"Do you want to interrupt?" Hades asked. The truth he had been–stubbornly, foolishly–ignoring was plain on their faces. Thancred and Y’shtola looked at him the same way Nerys did and he was glad for it. 

What he should have expected and was still thrown by: Haurchefant gazed at him the same way. 

Ah. He thought as Y'shtola got onto the bed. I do believe I am in trouble.

[thedawningoftheageofaquaris]

hi hi libra bestie <3 here to send you my birth chart for the ateez astrology ship, hope you have fun making it <3

Hey hey hey hey sag bestie welcome welcome welcome [opens the door wide open for you to come in] it's good to see you again but on the other side. As you can tell, I took my time with this and it was SOOOO much fun to do, and it has helped me understand new placements and aspects so YAY, please take a Seat I have many things to talk abt w you 😳😳 ((P.s : this is all over the place))

I ship you with *DRUM ROLL*

HONGJOONG :

from the very first glances at your chart, I thought you had a compatible chart with hongjoong. Basic right? That's what I thought too, as I also thought that once I get into your chart the thoughts of hongjoong will disappear ( spoiler : they didn't 😟) . You guys share rising signs so I was wondering if anyone have told you before that you remind them of hongjoong ? You radiate the same energy as him in a less intense way

Both scorpio venuses do well together imo, you're both intense and will understand that abt eachother ( I remember reading this observation of someone saying their scorpio venus sister got married to ANOTHER scorpio venus who has his sun in scorpio and the person who wrote the observation was like " their wedding was so intense ppl were crying left and right andd he literally said during his speach" I didn't say much but she knows that I'm saying million things on the inside" and I immediately thought " OK SO, HONGJOONG" akskdkvkvkv ) . There's also this theory that you like ppl who has your mars sign as their venus sign (your mars sign : scorpio, hongjoong's venus sign : scorpio. Theory approved ig 😳💯) . You two are always expanding your minds, always learning stuff and putting out questions..and YOU, our sagittarius sun in 5H queen, have all the answers, hongjoong as a sagittarius mercury would really appreciate/admire you for it. Your aquarius moon probably adores his gemini moon (as it will probably get rid of some of the detachment and anxiety caused by your moon placement) . You both are emotionally intense and have alot going on their and struggle to commit because you're afraid of overwhelming the other person (also, I remember you asking someone on here on why you attract alot of cancers. Maybe it's because of your cancer in 12H?).dancing couple !!!! me thinks and you're probably a better dancer than he is 😼😼. You guys are what ppl would call a powerful couple!. You hold just as much power as he holds and that's what's up.

Q : do you by any chance feel like you have the same music taste as him? Do you have a specific type of music you like to listen to? I'm not quite sure, that's why I'm asking. But I get the feeling that you guys would also be music buddies :((

Pls talk me through this and give me your feedback. I feel like I'm forgetting something so maybe with your feedbacks I can correct myself or remember few other things I might be missing

NOW. because of the last point I mentioned above (struggle with commitment) . I thought hongjoong isn't exactly the answer. And we need to have another choice that will help us SOOOOOOO.....

SEONGHWA :

If it wasn't for his aquarius venus that would understand your aquarius moon in a way and for his aries sun. I wouldn't even think of him as someone to ship you with tbh. I thought he'd be overwhelming. THEN I decided to check his birthchart since now we know his rising and how the houses are set and all of that. And I'm so glad I did !!

You guys are similar in a way and it's because of the houses in his chart and how they're set.

Seonghwa has his moon in the 12H which is similar to your cancer 12H.He, also is scared of how emotionally intense he could be and won't show his emotions to everyone. But with the nature of his moon placement,he'll help YOU get comfortable with your feelings and help you open up about them ( just like he helped hongjoong throughout the years of their friendship). With his venus in aquarius, he'll understand your aquarius moon and vice versa. Not only that but also, since his venus is in the 8H ( a house ruled by scorpio) he'll be able to provide you the emotional intimacy you want as a scorpio venus&mars and vice versa ( he craves intensity, possessiveness and a meaning full connection 😟). You'll also help HIM take care of his health since he might not take it seriously ( considering his sagittarius in the 6H).. YOU, who has their capricorn in the 6H,you seem serious about your health and wellbeing so you'll help seonghwa take care of his health as well since he's your beloved and you care about him :((

This is all I have for now sagittarius bestie, I feel like I'm missing lots of points which is why your feedback will be important.I might come back in here and add more lil things if you want me to. I also want to say that my favorite placement in your chat is the leo ascendant ( 🧚🏻‍♂️funfact abt me 🧚🏻‍♂️ : I'm a leo enthusiast. I admire anything leo touches and think that it's the greatest 🤲🏻).it's everything..and your jupiter placement as well.. Woahhhhhhh😩💌💌💌💌💌)

[p-and-p-admin]

Interview given to The Severus Snape and Hermione Granger Shipping Fan Group.  (sharing here Admin approved)

https://www.facebook.com/groups/199718373383293/

Hello Oracle Obscured and welcome to Behind the Quill, thank-you for letting us get to know you a little better.

Many readers will know you already and if they don’t I encourage them to look your works up including Teaching Miss Granger and How I learned to love teachers’ meetings

Okay, let’s jump right in.

What's the story behind your pen name?

Hmmm ... that’s kind of a weird answer for me. I wanted to choose a name that didn’t immediately indicate whether I was male or female. I’d noticed a certain freedom afforded to authors of indistinguishable gender. With no societal construct about the “nature” of the creator, the story stood on its own, without prejudice or conditioned expectations.

I brainstormed about six or seven names and then picked the one that appealed to me most. I’ve always felt drawn to the idea of oracles (those who see beyond). And I definitely felt obscured in that department. (Hell, at the time, my whole life felt obscured.)

Which Harry Potter character do you identify with the most?

I don’t know if I do. I guess if I had to pick, I’d say Hermione, as I have a tendency to be an obsessive perfectionist when it comes to work/studying. I like to be organized and plan things out. And I can be quite demanding and harsh with myself when I feel like I’m not measuring up to my own insane ideals.

But I took that openpsychometrics.org statistical quiz a while back, where you answer like a bazillion comparison questions (I did the longer version), and my highest HP match was Remus Lupin (83%). Yeah, I can see that.

Luna is my favorite character, but I don’t know if I identify with her more than anyone else.

Do you have a favourite genre to read? (not in fic, just in general)

It used to be horror/suspense, but ... I don’t know ... I’m just not as into it anymore. Maybe it’s because the real world is horrifying enough without adding fictional monsters to the mix.

Now I mostly read classics.

Do you have a favourite "classic" novel?

To Kill a Mockingbird.

At what age did you start writing?

Just writing stories in general? Maybe second grade. It wasn’t a passion or anything, just something I was pretty good at. I only really did it at school, though, not so much at home. I read A LOT growing up, so I naturally imagined that I might be an author one day. I tried to write a book when I was about 13 or 14, but less than one chapter in, I decided it was too hard. (I was NOT a Hermione growing up. Planning and perseverance were not my style.)

I took a massive break from thinking after high school (the smorgasbord of medications I was on didn’t like me using my brain too much, and my plans for college went out the window when my depression become unmanageable). I didn’t really start writing again until I was about twenty-seven. That was when I found fanfiction. I consider that when I really started writing.

How did you get into writing fanfiction?

I found fanfiction while looking for erotica. Needless to say I discovered the motherlode, and I was hooked. Over the years, I’d written bits and pieces of my own sexy scenarios (which is what you do when you grow up without the internet and you have to depend on your imagination for all your kink requirements), but I’d never really thought about taking someone else’s “story world” and using it as my setting. For a little over a year I read/devoured all the HP fanfiction I could, and then I realized I could take all the fantasies in my head and play them out with my favorite characters.

The first story I wrote was a funny/smutty Ginny/Draco thing, and it was HORRIBLE. The story and the sex were fine, but the writing was a nightmare. I submitted it to The Restricted Section, which was the only site I knew at the time, and they vetted their stories, so I had to get approved. They wrote me back saying it needed work and I should get a beta. So I went on the forum and found one (which was rather brave of me now that I think back). The person who helped me must’ve had the patience of a saint, because he/she(?) never said a damn thing about all the mistakes and shitty-ness. Suggestions and corrections were made, and I changed some of the pronouns to names so it wouldn’t sound so repetitive. The next time I submitted it, they accepted, and I got a decent response for a first-time writer (like three or four nice reviews). No one seemed to hate it, and the reviewers said the sex was hot, so I tried again, hoping to do better.

That’s when I wrote the first chapter of Teaching Miss Granger. It started out as just a oneshot. And it got a much better response. I wanted to write more, but I became extremely depressed and lethargic, and I didn’t really do anything for the next six or seven years. (I mean nothing. Unless you consider watching every episode of Law & Order CI and SVU ten times over to be an accomplishment.)

I came back to it years later, intending to add a few chapters to TMG where they have sex, but ... it just sort of evolved into the monster that it is. I worked on it pretty much every day for about a year. I’d never stuck with ANYTHING that long in my entire life.

What's the best theme you've ever come across in a fic? Is it a theme represented in your own works?

I would say love or “the power of love” is probably my favorite theme. But that includes synonyms for love as well. (Like wholeness, which is the theme of Quartet.)

What fandoms are you involved in other than Harry Potter?

None. I like other fandoms, but I don’t write for them, and I don’t usually read their fanfiction.

If you could make one change to canon, what would it be? Do you have a favourite piece of fanon?

I’ve never really thought about changing cannon. I mean, I change it to suit my fictional purposes (like Snape lives etc.), but I wouldn’t want to change canon for real. The deaths in HP serve a purpose, and while I find many of those deaths heartbreaking, that’s kind of the point. Hatred is bleak and destructive, and good people don’t survive wars simply because they’re good; bad things happen to good people all the time. As for changing something about the individual characters, I can’t get behind that either. The reasons people do things are multifaceted and complex and they’re colored by a lifetime of experiences I will never know or understand, so I don’t feel I can really judge. I can’t say I understand all the choices I’ve made in my own life, and there’ve been plenty of times where I had no choice at all. I can’t hold others to more rigorous standards than I myself can meet. We all have our shortcomings. (And that’s cool. Without them, there would be no growth or diversity.)

Do I have a favorite piece of fanon? Hmmm ... probably Head Boy and Head girl rooming together or having private rooms.

Oh! And uniforms.

Do you listen to music when you write or do you prefer quiet?

I used to listen to really quiet classical music while wearing headphones. Every little sound in the house distracts me, and I have to block it out. But lately I’ve just been running this old box fan that drowns out the noise.

What are your favourite fanfictions of all time?

Crap, I don’t know if I can choose. (Plus I feel like I’ve forgotten a lot of what I’ve read.)

My friend Desert Sea is my fav Hermione/Severus writer. Out of her stories, the ones I like best are In Their Hands and At the Headmaster’s Discretion.

After a brief search of my accounts, I’ll go with:

Do Not Go Gentle by senlinyu

Another Dream by dragoon811

The Last Twenty-Four Hours of Severus Snape by CryingCinderella

Pretty much everything by Aurette

Pet Project by Caeria

Post Tenebras, Lux by Loten

All the SS/HG stuff from snapeslittleblackbuttons

There’s a Teddy Radiator story that I like a lot, but I can’t remember the name of it. (Or what it’s about.) (Yes, very helpful, I know.)

And in a category all it’s own is Farmer Granger and the Most Glorious Cock by MyWitch. (Seriously, I read this like once a month and it makes me laugh every time.)

I read a lot of Drarry too. Drarry stories I love:

Everything by bixgrl1, but especially Balance Imperfect and In Evidence of Magical Theory

Everything by lq_traintracks (even the non-Drarry stuff). The writing is amazing.

I love all the advent stories by Saras_girl.

I like all the Drarry stories I’ve read by Faithwood.

I really like RZZMG’s writing. (No particular story or pairing.)

And I just rediscovered a story I found in 2007 (the first m/m fic I ever read). It’s a Snarry, which I know isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but it was excellent. Snape: the Home Fries Nazi by pir8fancier

Are you a plotter or a pantser? How does that affect your writing process?

I enjoy a bit of both. My oneshots are all pantsed. TMG was totally pantsed. But Getting Personal and Quartet were both plotted and planned. For GP I did sort of a chapter by chapter synopsis before starting my rough draft, and for Q I went into even more detail—EVERYTHING was planned out ahead of time. The only thing that changed during the first draft was I ended up combining some of the chapters.

How does plotting affect my writing process compared to pantsing? It streamlines it. In a oneshot there’s not much to streamline; the basic story (or general idea) is all you really need. There’s not enough story to get muddled. But when I’m writing something longer, with multiple chapters, I find it’s better to know where the story is going. How deeply I go into that planning can vary. Sometimes there’s just a basic outline of the major plot points and then I fly by the seat of my pants from there. Sometimes I write out a very rough synopsis (sort of like a short and loose first draft) and then start writing as if it’s my second draft. Things inevitably get changed once I really start writing, so the planning isn’t set in stone by any means, but when I plan, the story goes in the general direction I intend without veering too far off course and there aren’t any plot holes. After I wrote TMG (with no planning) I saw that there was A LOT I could have cut or combined without affecting anything important. I learned a little more with each story I wrote, and when I got to Q, there was a lot of complicated ideas that I wanted to incorporate, and there were so many characters (and character arcs) going on that I had to plan extensively to make sure everything fit together. If I hadn’t worked it out ahead of time, it would’ve been like throwing a heap of puzzle pieces on the table but not being given a reference picture to know what it was I was working toward.

What is your writing genre of choice?

I have no idea. Plotty sex? Erotic dramady? Some of it is just straight up PWP, but I usually like to have something meaningful in there too.

Which of your stories are you most proud of? Why?

Usually the answer is whatever I’ve most recently written, as it’s the most likely to represent my current “best.” In terms of writing, I’ll go with A Brush with Magic, but Quartet is probably my best storytelling. A lot went into that (symbolism, planning, obsessive re-writes) and it holds a good deal of personal meaning to me. So, I guess I’ll go with Q due to the time and effort involved.

Did it unfold as you imagined it or did you find the unexpected cropped up as you wrote? What did you learn from writing it?

The unexpected always crops up (even with all my planning), and it’s the unexpected that makes the magic.

While I had many insights into my own nature while writing Quartet, in the end I think it taught me to trust/listen to myself more.

Later, however, it brought me a very different message. While writing it, I felt a lot of tension and anxiety; I wanted to “do it right” and present my story in the best light. But after some time away, I realized I’d been so worried because I felt as if that story represented me, as if it defined me. And the pressure of being judged worthy or unworthy had been eating me alive.

But I don’t feel that way anymore. Now it’s like I wrote all my stories in another lifetime. While they all might be a snapshot of a fraction of my mind, nothing I create ever says a damn thing about who or what I truly am. Since letting go of that, I’ve found a sense of freedom around writing. I still like to express things as clearly and beautifully as I can, but it’s more a celebration of words than a search for acceptance.

How personal is the story to you, and do you think that made it harder or easier to write?

Quartet was extremely personal to me when I wrote it, and in a lot of ways I think that made it easier to write. When I have to go strictly by imagination, I feel as if I’m missing some depth of understanding (like I’m getting the surface-level stuff, but missing the nuance). When I write from experience, it has an entirely different quality. Richer. More intimate. It’s work to write what I don’t know, but it’s easy to write the truth.

Posting, however, is an entirely different story. Other people don’t always want the truth, and if you feel like your story is an extension of you, it can hurt to have any part of it rejected.

What books or authors have influenced you? How do you think that shows in your writing?

I think everything I’ve ever read or seen has influenced me. In terms of writing, I guess I’d say I’m inspired by beauty in all its forms. When I first started reading fanfiction, I just searched for the kinks I liked; it was all about the sex (with bonus points for having a decent plot). Then one day I read an extremely well-written PWP (I don’t remember what), and the way the author described the sex was so unlike anything I had ever read, it totally blew my mind. It was art. Exquisite art. And before that, I didn’t know sex could be art. That author didn’t just recount the characters’ actions, they painted a word masterpiece—they turned porn into poetry. THAT was what I wanted in my life. And I didn’t know it until that moment.

Books/authors that stick with me:

The Harry Potter series (obviously).

Shel Silverstein (Love the poetry, but The Giving Tree is one of my favorite books of all time.)

Dr. Seuss (Always.)

Judy Blume (I still have my copy of Are You There God it’s Me Margaret from when I was, like, 10. Tiger Eyes is my favorite of hers.)

R.L. Stine (I got hooked prior to the creation of the Goosebumps series, but I had EVERY Fear Street Book he wrote when I was in middle school.)

Weekend by Christopher Pike (This was the first YA thriller I ever read. *Sigh* memories. I still have my original copy, and I still read it every once in a while. The characters and plot are great.)

Stephen King (Carrie is my fav.)

Anne Rice (I’ve read all the vampire and witch books, but The Witching Hour is the only one I’ve read multiple times. Blackwood Farm is my next favorite.)

To Kill a Mockingbird

Charles Dickens (David Copperfield is my fav.)

Jane Austen (I can’t pick between Pride & Prejudice and Sense & Sensibility.)

Thomas Harris (Brilliant writing, and Hannibal might be one of the most intriguing anti-heros ever.)

Stieg Larsson (Another brilliant writer with a brilliant character.)

The Giver by Lois Lowry (I haven’t read the rest of the trilogy. And I haven’t seen the movie. I refuse to besmirch my childhood love with Hollywood’s interpretation.)

Bridge to Terabithia (This book devastated me as a child.)

Gillian Flynn (Sharp Objects is my fav.)

Liane Moriarty (I like all of her books, especially Big Little Lies. The way she plays with the timeline is masterful.)

Frank Herbert’s Dune. (I grew up on this. It’s my dad’s all-time favorite book. And, yes, we’re looking forward to the new movie.)

Margaret Atwood (The Handmaid’s Tale is horrifyingly wonderful. And Atwood herself is fascinating. Watch her Masterclass if you get the chance.)

Steinbeck’s East of Eden (This might be my second favorite book.)

The Lucifer Effect by Phillip Zimbardo (This isn’t fiction, but it was the first book that really affected the way I see the world.)

Eisler’s The Chalice and the Blade (Also not fiction. If you’re interested in the divine feminine and a more egalitarian society, this is the book for you.)

Loving What Is by Byron Katie (The only self-help book that’s ever actually helped me.)

Daphne Du Maurier (I love Rebecca, but she also has a story called “The Blue Lenses” that isn’t really intended to be scary, but it freaked me the fuck out.)

The Secret History by Donna Tartt (Gorgeous writing, and the plot left me seriously disturbed.)

One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest by Ken Kesey (Gah! I love this. The writing and the story and the characters and EVERYTHING!)

Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury (I Bradbury’s writing style, but the plot of F451 is pure horror for any book hoarder lover.)

The Lord of the Flies by William Golding (This might be my third favorite book ever. No, wait, I might like it better than East of Eden. I can’t choose!)

The Diary of Anne Frank (How in the hell could anyone read this and not be affected by it?)

Do people in your everyday life know you write fanfiction?

No. This is my own private world, and I like it that way.

How true for you is the notion of "writing for yourself"?

Very. I write what I want to read. There are certain adjustments I make when I write for other people as opposed to what I do when writing strictly for myself, but nothing major. I refuse to write things I have no interest in, and I don’t write to make people happy. I write to please myself. (But it’s nice when what pleases me pleases others. It’s wonderful to share that connection.)

How important is it for you to interact with your audience? How do you engage with them? Just at the point of publishing? Through social media?

I like hearing from my readers. I don’t have a lot of time to interact, but I like talking to my audience and listening to their insights. I try to reply to all the comments I get on AO3 (it’s just too hard on FFN). And when I have free time (which isn’t often) I check my FB groups to see what’s going on. To me, the interaction kind of completes the creative cycle; it helps me set the story free and allow it to be. It really belongs to the reader once I’ve published, and it’s nice to see the ripples creativity creates.

What is the best advice you've received about writing?

Unless it’s absolutely necessary, stop using the word “was.” Completely changed my writing.

What do you do when you hit writer's block?

It doesn’t really happen that much, as I usually know where I’m going with my story, but there can be glitches between scenes or times when I can’t find the words for something (like ending a chapter). When that happens, I usually just leave it and come back later—I can’t force it if it won’t come.

If I really need to get it done for some reason, I read what I have over and over, adding a little bit more each time, trying out words that “sound right” and building what I need bit by bit. What I come up with isn’t always right or what I want, but at least I have something to work with. Sometimes seeing what’s wrong makes what you want more obvious.

Has anything in real life trickled down into your writing?

Yeah, just about everything Sex, depression, anxiety, personal growth, likes/dislikes, insights, interests, philosophy, all my little neuroses. Every once in a while I’ll even include some dialogue from real life.

Do you have any stories in the works? Can you give us a teaser?

I’m juggling about five long stories right now (plus a couple oneshots). And I haven’t worked on any of them in ages. I don’t know what’s going on with me; I’m just not in the mood. I don’t want to say what they are, as I might never finish them. (Two are Drarry and three are Sevmione. One is a compilation of oneshots. Four of them are completely planned out and just need to be written. The unplanned Drarry was always just meant to be for myself and I doubt I’ll ever release it.)

Any words of encouragement to other writers?

Yes. Enjoy the whole writing/creative process as much as possible. Try not to beat yourself up, and don’t try to force yourself to be better. You will naturally get better the more you write. Change is inevitable; allow it to happen. Read books about writing, and read good writers. Notice what brings you the most pleasure when you read and tap into that same pleasure when you write. Play with words and ideas just for fun. Watch and see what appears. There is no perfect.

If you’re writing about sex (because I get asked about that a lot), write what turns YOU on. Don’t try to be sexy. Don’t try to write what you think other people want to hear. Don’t worry about what other people think (at least in the first draft). If they don’t like it they can go read something else. But if YOU like it, it will shine through in your writing, and that will have a bigger impact on your reader than any activity you describe. Also, the physicality is only a fraction of the sexual experience. Don’t turn your sex scenes into a play-by-play. You’re not really writing about what the characters are doing so much as how what they’re doing affects them. It’s a personal experience, and the more personal you make it (the more honest and vulnerable you are as a writer) the more satisfying the story will be for your reader. Wise words! Thank-you so much for speaking with us today Oracle Obscured.

[stoppit-keepout]

when nobody is listening

Kissing prompt 8. Laying a gentle kiss to the back of the other’s hand. (I realise most of the prompts are v romantic, but I listened to some Mountain Goats and couldn’t stop myself from writing sad things, oops. Title from Long Neck’s Rosy)

Heads-up: this is about Nile Freeman’s family dealing with death--hers and her father’s.

Tony has a few memories of Dad’s funeral. They have hard edges, and they shine through tears, crystalline.

Auntie Kai singing Amazing Grace, a red flower on her black dress. Mom pressing a kiss to his praying hands. “Come here,” collecting him roughly into her arms with Nile, God, Nile.

He’s not going to remember Nile’s funeral. He’s not going to go.

He tells Mom while she’s making a salad to go with dinner on Thursday. Auntie Kai dropped off lasagna and tried to stay, but Mom wasn’t ready to see her, see anyone yet, so it’s just the two of them.

“What do you mean ‘I can’t go,’ you got plans?” The retort comes fast, before she’s looked at him.

Mom’s always on the move--ADD, Nile calls it, though who knows for sure--and it’s only gotten worse since they got the news. Since Tuesday.

There’s a lot to do, she says when Tony asks if she wants breakfast, and she can see the TV from where I’m ironing, thanks, baby, you just watch your show, and she’s just going to call Father Willem to make sure everything’s set, but she’ll go to bed soon, she promises.

“I can’t,” he says. His grief presses a greedy hand across his throat, strangles the rest of what he’d wanted to say.

Mom knocks over the salad dressing. The plastic thunks when it hits the counter. “Baby,” she says, and she’s there.

Tony pushes his face into her shoulder, and her hands push against the back of his head too, hiding his twisting sobs in her at-home sweater. “I can’t, Mom, she’s gotta come back,” the words lurching out around his crying.

“Shh,” Mom says, and holds him tighter. “I’ve got you.” Her voice trembles so hard that it shakes the bones in Tony’s legs, and they’re folding, Mom slowing his fall, but both going down together.

“Who’s gonna keep me out of trouble now?” Tony doesn’t know if anyone but Mom would be able to understand the words, they’re so clawed-up from tears; he doesn’t know if they really make sense, but it was what they always said. Mom and Nile, keeping their boys out of trouble, but Dad’s dead, and then Nile enlisted, and now, and now--

Mom’s crying just as hard as Tony, now, but he can still hear her say, “She’s still watching out for you, baby, she always will.”

The lasagna doesn’t taste like anything, but at least the lid was on the salad dressing when it fell. Nothing spills.

Tony goes to the funeral and stares so hard at that stupid flag that it shows up, inverted, when he blinks.

-

Tony’s heart churns in pain that whole first month. It’s somehow even worse than when Dad died, because at least then, he and Nile had been a team. Mom took care of them, and they’d make sure she didn’t stay up alone. Nile always made their cousins take Tony, too, when they go out for bike rides, always let him tag along and play his music. Tony made sure that when Nile got mad, she didn’t get mad alone.

Mom’s not mad now. The closest she gets is when Tony gets detention for getting in a fight with some guy trying to get him to join JROTC--she descends upon his principal like an ice storm, and Tony doesn’t get a mark on his permanent record from the incident.

But mostly she’s sad, and Tony’s sad, and it’s new enough that he doesn’t have a clue what to do.

His friends start coming over to hang out. The Sunday after the funeral, they just show up, and from that point on it seems like someone’s always around--he can’t complain about it. They teach Mom to play Breath of the Wild on Jalen’s Switch, and they pull a jagged laugh from him when Mom tries to catch the giant horse.

When Auntie Kai finds out that Mom’s letting Tony’s friends come over and play video games, she practically moves in. “Let me take care of you,” Tony overhears her telling Mom one night, and the echo of Nile hits him so hard that he has to sit down right there in the hall.

Auntie Kai’s able to be around all the time because work is giving her some paid time off--something about a bunch of vacation days she needed to spend, though she also told Mom the days definitely hadn’t been there in December when she’d wanted time for Christmas. Tony’s dimly grateful for whatever glitch had hidden the vacation from her then, though, because it means now she’s here, and she can help.

They spend a lot of time in the kitchen, even though food still doesn’t taste right. Tony sleeps in Nile’s room sometimes and tries to tell himself she’s still there looking over him, like Dad.

It doesn’t get easier that Nile’s gone, but it gets easier for Tony to still be around.

-

He gets into U Chicago. He gets into a few other schools, too, and has a couple rejections he didn’t care to read, but he gets into U Chicago.

“You deserve it, you worked so hard,” Mom says. He picks her up off her feet in a hug, and she laughs, loud.

“Thanks for making me work,” he says. “And thanks for fixing my application essays.”

“Oh, for--” She’s grinning as she slaps at his arm, and he puts her down. “How many times do I have to tell you, I didn’t do that!”

Tony rolls his eyes, but he’s sure he’s still grinning like a fool. “Sure, Mom.”

“You need to give yourself credit, you earned every bit of this.”

Sure, he did, but he knows he’s never totally perfected the right ‘their/there/they’re/whatever,’ no matter how many times Nile had tried to explain it. He also has some proof that Mom went and fixed things even after she gave him her approval for his submission--when he’d checked the system the day after he’d uploaded his application, the PDF didn’t look quite the same as the one he had on his computer.

Mom probably doesn’t want to bring down the moment with reminders of what they’ve lost, so he doesn’t bust her for it just yet.

She’s his mom, though, so she sees the bite in his smile even without him saying anything. “They’re so proud of you,” she says, and gives him another hug. “I just know it.”

-

In a weird twist, one of Nile’s old friends is the TA for Tony’s object-oriented programming class. He hadn’t recognised her name on the syllabus, but when she walks into the tutorial saying, “Okay, students of MPCS 51410-B, please correct your syllabi because you are now in Sandra’s section,” her face and voice shove him abruptly back in time.

He’s eight and he’s threatening to tell on her and Nile for cutting gum out of Nile’s hair, he’s ten and he’s trying to convince Nile to let him watch horror movies with them, he’s twelve and got roped into taking pictures of her and Nile posing in Hallowe’en costumes.

She looks shaken when she sees him, then shakes it off.

He doesn’t know how to bring it up, but he goes to her office hours in the second week of class anyway. Before he goes in, he doesn’t really want to talk about Nile. He doesn’t want to cry, he doesn’t want to have to lie that it’s okay, he doesn’t want to listen while someone talks about Nile the way people talk about Dad. Like she’s gone. Like she’s over.

He goes in anyway.

“Tony,” Sandra says, and she’s not crying yet at least. “I’m so sorry.”

It ends up not being too bad. They talk about Java for a bit, because there’s an assignment coming up next week, and Sandra mentions she just got a grant to work on something about databases that Tony doesn’t totally follow yet (but he will).

He comes back a few more times. It eventually ends up being nice to trade stories back and forth with someone who knew Nile, and Nile’s drive, her sharp wit, her big heart. Tony learns again that Sandra and Nile had met on the first day of kindergarten, and that Nile had screamed when the teacher had tried to partner them up with different people in the second week of school.

“She always said she just knew, with me,” Sandra says like a badge of honour.

“She was like that,” Tony says. It settles, a small betrayal, in his ribs. She’s still like that, he silently, irrationally papers over.

--

“You coming today?” Mom asks. She’s already dressed for church, but she’s sitting half-on the chair in front of the computer, distractedly typing something into a comment box on Facebook. “I’m leaving in a minute, just have to do...” She trails off, her typing picking up tempo.

Tony doesn’t bother responding out loud, just ducks back to his room to change his shirt and goes to wait by the door for Mom to finish up.

“Okay, okay, we’re already late,” she says, grabbing her purse and rifling through it for her keys. “Is your sister already in the car?”

The words pounce on them both. Stillness, then explosive motion as Mom flinches, as she drops her purse and her little tin of breath mints bursts and scatters.

“Mom,” Tony says, and she’s already on her knees, gathering up her things. His knees thud on the floor, following to help.

“I’m sorry, it’s just--”

“I know,” he says, and he repeats it because Mom wasn’t looking the first time. “Mom, I know.”

“I didn’t forget,” Mom says, hands finally still, eyes meeting Tony’s. “I could never.”

“But it’s like she’s still here, right?” Mom blurs and glows in the tears filling Tony’s vision. “You feel it, too.”

That’s what tips Mom over into crying, too.

They’re late for church, but they still go.

Peace be with you, murmuring around them, and Mom holds his face in her hands and makes him bend so she can kiss him on the forehead, like she always does.

Communion, and prayer. Please protect Mom, and bless the whole family, and let me get through finals okay. Tony prays the way he’s been praying for almost a year now: to God, and to Nile.

Mom’s kneeling beside him, her shoulder against his, and he crosses himself when his thoughts have smoothed out. Mom catches his hand in a tight grip as he’s lowering it; they hold on to each other.

[axelxmartinez]

(Hi I love to plot, hit me up and let’s chat!)

Introduction @redridgeimp​

FULL NAME:  Axel Jose Diego Martinez

NICKNAMES(S):  Axe, Ax, Diablo

AGE:  33

DATE OF BIRTH:  October 30th, 1986

PLACE OF BIRTH:  Red Ridge, Nevada

CURRENT LOCATION:  Red Ridge, Nevada.

ETHNICITY:  Latino. Mexican primarily and his mother was partially Caucasian (European descent), as well as Mexican and Dominican.

GENDER:  Cis male.

PRONOUNS:  He/him/his.

SEXUAL ORIENTATION:  Bisexual.

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION:  quoiromantic

RELIGION:  Atheist.

OCCUPATION:  Owner of Roberto's and Bone breaker for Valencia.

EDUCATION LEVEL:  he dropped out of high school in the beginning of 11th grade. 

EXTRACURRICULAR:  Boxing, lifting weights, playing video games, occasionally reading

LIVING ARRANGEMENTS:  Owns his parents house, a medium sized single family home with 4 bedrooms, an unfinished basement, nothing to brag about on the south side of redridge

SPEAKING VOICE AND ACCENT:  Deep, smooth voice with a hint of a Spanish accent, especially when he's angry. Normally keeps a steady tone, unless he’s really upset about something.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE, ETC.

FACECLAIM: Manny Montana 

HAIR COLOR AND STYLE:  black, shaved short

COMPLEXION:  Brown on the lighter side with neutral undertones

EYE COLOR:  Brown.

EYESIGHT: 20/30 the last time he checked, he probably could use corrective lenses for driving or reading something but he doesn’t bother with it.

HEIGHT:  6’1” or 185cm

WEIGHT:  169lbs or 77kg

BODY AND BUILD:  Muscular, lean, well-defined muscles. 

TATTOOS: tons, he gets them at random and the only theme to them is that they are black and white. The obvious ones most people see are the skull on his throat and the ones on his fingers and hands. (See his pinterest linked at the bottom for more ideas in this area)

PIERCINGS: none, he fights too much to have piercings.

CLOTHING STYLE:  jeans, hoodies, t-shirts, flannels, button down shirts, primarily black for everything. 

DISTINGUISHING CHARACTERISTICS:  tattoos all over his body, small linear scar on his eyebrow where no hair grows, various scars all over his body - some covered with tattoos and some not. Also wears necklaces and rings, has a few random bracelets made by his nieces and nephews.

HEALTH.

MENTAL DISORDER(S):  ADD is all he’s been diagnosed with, though he likely has an anxiety disorder as well. 

PHYSICAL DISORDER(S):  none

ALLERGIES:  the pollen gets to him in the spring but he just ignores it

SLEEPING HABITS:  insomniac, he sleeps in small shifts between work and whatever he’s doing during the day. 

EATING HABITS:  Axel has a high metabolism so he eats a lot and often, he tends to pick things up while he’s moving around town and keeps protein bars and snacks in his car for in between meals

SOCIABILITY: extroverted introvert, he tends to be around people but doesn’t go out of his way to strike up conversation unless he feels it necessary, knows the person already, or is spoken to first. 

BODY TEMPERATURE:  neutral.

ADDICTIONS:  Nicotine, Caffeine, some would argue he drinks a little too much but he doesn’t think so.

DRUG USE:  Depends on the drug. He smokes marijuana frequently, but anything else is occasionally and he refuses to touch needles or anything made purely from chemicals (i.e. Meth). 

ALCOHOL USE:  Frequently, usually has a drink or two everyday. Sometimes more, sometimes less. He prefers brandy and tequila but also enjoys beer and will always accept a free drink regardless of what it is.

PERSONALITY.

POSITIVE TRAITS:  Hardworking, Efficient, Honest, Strong, Confident, Curious

NEGATIVE TRAITS:  Callous, Insensitive, Secretive, Possessive, Withdrawn, Stubborn

LIKES:  Fighting, good food, drinking, video games, smoking, sex, most things physical, some reading, fire

DISLIKES:  Schools, authority (mainly police), drama, airplanes, inactivity

FEARS: His only fear that he could ever pinpoint was his father.

HABITS: Plays with his fingers, touches his face, staring without talking, smoking, rain

ASTROLOGY:  Scorpio Sun, Sagittarius Rising, Libra Moon

PERSONALITY TYPE:  INTJ

MORAL ALIGNMENT:  Chaotic Neutral

HOGWARTS HOUSE:  Slytherin.

ELEMENT:  Fire

WEATHER: Overcast or Sunny

COLOR:  Black

MUSIC:  Rock, Metal, 90’s hip hop

MOVIE:  Documentaries or Action movies

SPORT:  Baseball and Soccer

BEVERAGE:  Brandy or Tequila

FOOD:  Waffles

ANIMAL: Snake

SEASON:  Summer

FAMILY, RELATIONSHIPS, ETC.

MOTHER: Antonia Martinez (Rodriguez)  

FATHER:  Roberto Martinez, deceased

SIGNIFICANT OTHER:  none

SIBLING(S):  5 younger siblings, names and ages vague for future wc

CHILDREN:  TBD

PET(S): Ball Python named Slinky

PROMPT.

“ROUTINE”: violence tw, death tw

Ever since he was a teenager, Axel has worked at Roberto’s. At his father’s insistence to teach him some responsibility, as the owner, it was common for him to hire his children and other relatives because he didn’t trust anyone. When Roberto, his father, went to prison and was simultaneously killed while there, his business was given to his eldest son. Axel wasn’t very torn up about losing his father, it made his life significantly easier and allowed him to take over the role as head of the Martinez family. Something he’d been well prepared for and while he wasn’t the nicest guy, he wasn’t the psychopath Roberto was. At least, he didn’t think he was. 

With his father gone, his days started with the sun (if he even got to bed the night before). He opened the convenient store, put the money in the till for the starting shift and made sure everything was turned on and stocked from the night before. Once the first shift comes in, he usually heads to the back to double check that everything is locked up and set up for the next shift. After that is usually when he gets word of anything Valencia needs him to do that day. Even though he’s not a soldier anymore, he likes to keep busy so he picks up slack where he can. If not, he starts checking in on his younger siblings and making sure they are doing what they’re supposed to be doing and staying out of trouble. If he doesn’t have anything pressing to get done, he heads to the gym to do his usual workout and possibly some sparring to keep his endurance at peak along with his fighting technique. Afterwards, he hits up Ridge Roasters if he’s going to the North side of town and gets his coffee with a random pastry to go. Otherwise, he heads to Blue Hill Diner for a proper breakfast and chats with the staff there or scrolls through his phone. He heads back to the convenient store if they need him, otherwise he heads home for a nap or just to relax. Most days he can trust his shift supervisors or the manager to finish up the rest of the day at Roberto’s. Only on occasion does he have to cover a shift or go in to change the cash register for a shift. 

By five or six in the evening, Axel crosses the threshold of St. Peters and takes a spot at the bar. If he feels like dinner, he gets something to eat. Otherwise he has a few drinks to pass the time and watches the environment. If he’s lucky, he catches something that isn’t supposed to be happening in Redridge without approval and brings it to a higher up. Otherwise, he wastes some time before Rogue’s opens and he can go watch the fights for the night. By the time it’s his turn to get in the ring, he’s usually itching to start fighting. He’s not one to get excited about much, but once he gets sight of his ‘opponent’ a wide shark-like smile will spread across his face. Axel loves the work he gets to do with Valencia and if he could do more he would. Fighting and getting rid of people was something he specialized in, he was damn good at it, too. If he was lucky, he brought someone home with him at the end of the night. If not, he has another drink and heads back to his house to watch something on the television or, if he’s even luckier, gets a few hours of sleep before he has to wake up and repeat it all the next day. 

“REMINISCENCE”:  violence tw, alcohol tw, blood tw, death tw

“Not everyone gets to just blurt out how the feel about whoever or whatever on a fuckin’ whim, dude.” Axel spoke into his glass, the third brandy making his voice hoarse. Stuck in the reverie that his best friend had pulled from him. That afternoon they’d gotten the news that his father was found dead in the showers that morning. He was out celebrating. That man had never done anything for anyone, nothing good at least and definitely not any of his kids. Axel looked at the brown liquid in his glass and swirled it around. “Remember back in high school, that kid Jake who used to hang around sometimes?” He asked, eyes still on the glass. “We used to mess around or whatever. I was young and stupid.” He shook his head, knowing at twenty-five he wasn’t exactly old but he was a lot older than he was then. “Anyways, it had been a few months and I started talkin’ a big game like I was the boss of my house. My papi didn’t give a shit what I did or who I was with and all that. We stopped at Roberto’s after school to get some snacks or whatever. You know, same shit different day.” Axel paused and let out a slow sigh. The alcohol was getting to his head and loosening his tongue to reveal shit he’d never talked about with anyone. Most people knew his father was a prick that was quick to correct his children with his hands rather than his words, but Axel didn’t ever make it seem like it bothered him. He sure as hell didn’t let on that he harbored a great fear of the man. “We were at the counter paying, right in front of my dad and Jake tried to lean in for a kiss or somethin’ to say thank you or some shit. I just freaked out, I didn’t know what to do because that shit wasn’t goin’ to fly with Roberto Martinez. Not one of his kids. So, I pushed him away and beat his ass bloody right there for all the world to see.” He didn’t want his dad to do it and if he thought for a second that Axel was into guys he would probably shoot him on the spot. Definitely would have gotten rid of him in one way or the other. Even if he still liked girls, too. “My brother had to pull me off of him. I was so fuckin’ scared man, I just kept hittin’ him. He had to go to the hospital and his parents didn’t even press charges, they straight pulled him out of school. I never even saw him again.” Axel finished off his glass and exhaled the burn it left in his throat and chest. “Out of all the people I’ve beat in my lifetime, all the shit I’ve done, man. That’s the only one I regret. But you know the sad part?” He let out a bitter laugh. “If I could go back and do it over, I’d still beat his ass. What the fuck does that say about me?” Axel shut up after that, didn’t even really pay attention to what his friend had to say about any of it. He drowned himself in a bottle and had no idea how he got home at the end of the night. 

BACKGROUND. ( abuse tw, death tw, violence tw)

Born and raised in Redridge, oldest of six children. Some of his siblings still live in Redridge, others have left and spread around the country. He has a large extended family. They live all over the country, Mexico, and South America.

His father was a very strict man and ran his household with an iron fist. He believed his children should be seen and not heard. If one of them were to step out of line, show defiance, or generally make him angry in any way, he normally responded by correcting them physically instead of with words. He owned Roberto’s, which he started before Axel was born. Roberto was also a member of Valencia working up from street rat to lieutenant. He was arrested when Axel was twenty and died in prison when he was twenty-five.

Antonia, his mother, was a reserved woman. She was hard-working and loved her children. However, she listened to her husband and he was the head of the household. When Roberto went to prison, Axel took over the role of head of the household. His mother fell ill in his late twenties and currently lives in an assisted living facility in Redridge. Axel visits her regularly.

As for his siblings, he keeps up with all of them. One attends the community college and he is adamant that they keep up with their grades and continue their education. He keeps in almost daily touch with each and every one of them and adores his nieces and nephews. Whenever he can visit, he makes a point to but hates to fly so it is usually only once or twice a year at most for those who live outside of Nevada. 

School wasn’t Axel’s strong suit. He could never focus and everything just made him feel like he was stupid when he knew he wasn’t stupid. He just wasn’t book smart. So he dropped out right before eleventh grade and worked at Roberto’s. As soon as he was able to, he joined Valencia as a street rat and moved up the ranks to Bone-breaker once he had proven himself. However, he enjoys doing soldier work still so he will pick up any spare jobs if they are available.

As far as romance goes, Axel has never been with anyone long. He enjoys both women and men and their company, but he has a hard time letting anyone past his walls. The few times he has tried, he fucked it up in one way or another. So, he stays single and just holds casual relationships. 

He loves to fight and he is good at making people disappear, getting jobs done efficiently, and intimidation. Axel is very loyal to Valencia.

Currently, he is always on the move. He doesn’t like to be idle for long. So he is either doing work for Valencia or Roberto’s, moving around town, drinking at a bar, eating somewhere, fighting at Rogue’s, at the gym, watching fights, or sleeping in between any of those activities. 

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

Friends With Benefits/One-night Stands (unlimited): He likes physical activity and touch, he tries to pick people up often and especially after a fight. This could have been happening for a long time or just a night or be brand new. 

Best Friend (0/1): This person knows him better than anyone. They just get him and is likely the only person he’s ever opened up to. 

Close Friends (0/6): These people know him better than most, but he probably has only opened up about one or two things to them. He trusts these people and likes to be around them.

Employees: Anyone who wants to work at Roberto’s

Budding Romance (0/1): could be a fwb that progresses, someone who’s always been around but neither of them made the move to advance it past anything.

Enemies: Self explanatory, but they always butt heads in one way or another. Possibly have fought in the past, but definitely never have anything nice to say about one another.

Past relationships (0/4): People who tried to break through his walls and didn’t get through. Or they just didn’t work out for any multitude of reasons.

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/kitmeowza/c-axel-martinez/

[skippie89]

Secreting Shadows #2

Music for this chapter is:

Learn Me Right

By Birdy and Mumford & Sons

Raiden was pissed. He had spent the night chasing after that chestnut haired… freak! That was the only word he could think to call her. How she eluded him he had no clue. Every time he thought he was close to catching her, she would dance out of his grasp. She was good. Too good to just be a normal shadow that the guild picked up.

“What’s gotten you into a mood, little snake?”

He didn’t even bother to get annoyed at Layla’s name for him and simply continued to stare at nothing.

“…Alright. What did the new kid do?”

That got his attention and his eyes shot up to meet hers, “What?”

“Aithlyn. What did she do for you to be scowling this much?”

At his explanation at what happened last night, Layla could barely stand she was laughing that much, which caused his scowl to deepen.

“About time someone was able to keep up with you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, come off it, Rai. The only reason you’re in a huff is because you actually have to put some effort into it. Something you haven’t done in a long time.”

Not wanting to admit it Raiden simply huffed in response.

“If you want to look for her, she’s in the stone quarter right about now.”

“How would you know?”

“Because unlike you, I used what she said yesterday and did my research. No way did she only arrive a few days ago.”

“She didn’t, she arrived a few weeks ago.”

Layla look briefly startled but the grin slowly blossoming on her face showed how delighted she was, “Fuck… She’s good.”

 An hour later Raiden found himself hidden in the shadows of the Stone Quarter watching Aithlyn as she went about her business. He had initially been startled to see the differences from yesterday.

Her curly hair was unbound and settled around her features, she was clothed in a dress, and she was openly smiling at everyone. No wonder they didn’t realise it was her, she was not acting like a typical shadow. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop the smirk from forming on his face.

She was outside playing with the children during her “break”. It seemed like she was acting as an apothecary of sorts. From what he had seen, she had food available freely for the younglings in the area. Memories started appearing from the dark recesses of his mind, but he rapidly shook them away.

Raiden watched as a child slowly approached where he was hiding. The boy was looking around in confusion but was holding a bottle of sorts in his hand. Raiden stepped out to show himself, seeing if he could help the kid and was shocked to see a delighted smile form on the boy’s face once he was noticed.

“There you are!”

Raiden quirked an eyebrow, “You were looking for me…?”

“Yep! Miss Aithlyn said that a man with white hair was standing here and that he’d need this,” indicating to the bottle.

“… And why would I need the bottle?”

“She said that you’d be very tired from playing chase all night and might need a pick me up.”

Raiden laughed and looked in the direction of where he had last seen her. She was tending to an elderly woman but as if she could feel his eyes on her, she looked up at him and gave him a cheeky wink.

Damn… She is good.

 Aithlyn focused on her work for the remainder of the afternoon. She had accidentally visited with Erik that morning when she had wandered into the area that he lived within in the wood. It had been a while since she sat on lush grass and simply talked. She had learned a little more about him and his situation, but once again, knew that now was not the time to pry too deeply. It also helped that Erik was very nice to look at. Shirtless… Sweaty… Shaking her head she pulled herself away from those thoughts.

Wandering out of the woods led her to bump into Roux at the bridge leading back into town. It was hard not to smile around them and now that she knew that they had a weakness for baked goods Aithlyn had a feeling that she’d be putting her alchemy skills to use later in the kitchen.

After Raiden left cackling to himself, Aithlyn was glad she had mixed up an energiser. Poor guy had been chasing after her all night, she was quite impressed by the amount of times he had come close to catching her. It was most likely a shock for him to see her like this, most shadows tended to stay back and observe, thus garnering information that way. Aithlyn however learned very quickly that by involving herself with the city folk that not only did she gain their trust, so if something happened, they’d never believe evil rumours about her, but she was able to gather a lot of information swiftly. And her five weeks here had definitely not been wasted.

The sun was setting so Aithlyn decided that it was time to get ready, after all she did promise Roux that she would look less shadowy for the festival. Pulling out a short green dress, Aithlyn examined it. The skirt stopped mid-thigh and the sleeves flowed loosely to the elbows. Nodding in approval she placed it on the bed before pulling out a brown corset. It was her favourite one as it had secret compartments that held throwing knives. She may have to look less shadowy, but she never promised to be defenceless. Next thing was finding her brown leggings and favourite boots which stopped just short of her knees. Once she bathed, dressed and fixed her hair Aithlyn went looking for her forest green cloak and skipped out the door intending to find Roux.

 Aithlyn was internally seething as she glared at Azaril. The bastard had the nerve to order her to refill his drink. Cedric had stepped in, knowing that if he didn’t Azaril would give away information that should not be made public... Or she’d punch him. Aithlyn loved her cousin, but his immaturity still frustrated her at times, especially now which led her to question for the hundredth time why he had also been sent here.

Azaril was smirking at her from across the food table, and Aithlyn had to fight to stop her lips from twitching. It was Maja’s voice commenting on the baked tarts that turned her attention.

“They’re nice but they just settle in your stomach and I just can’t figure out which ingredients to use to stop that from happening.”

Aithlyn knew she was talking about the lemon pastries and chipped in, “It’s actually not the ingredients, you need to whisk the batter, trying to add as much air as possible. It makes them light and fluffy.”

Maja turned away from the noble she was talking to and quirked an eyebrow at Aithlyn. She had met the woman briefly last night but hadn’t yet formed an opinion about her.

“You seem to know a lot about this.”

Aithlyn shrugged, “my brother has a real sweet tooth and I found baking to be a lot like alchemy, so it just kind of came naturally.”

Maja surged forward and grabbed both of her hands in her own, “Me too!”

Maja’s face was flushed lightly in delight of this discovery but once she realised, she quickly corrected her behaviour and dropped Aithlyn’s hands causing the woman to lightly chuckle.

“It would seem you’re quite skilled in a few things, Aithlyn. Not many would know enough about alchemy to compare it to baking.”

“It was one of the few things my mother taught me.”

Maja narrowed her eyes as she looked at Aithlyn, “You’re very open for a…”

“Apothecary?” Aithlyn suggested with a grin on her lips.

Maja simply nodded. Aithlyn certainly wasn’t like any shadow she had met before. But then again, she had spent more time in Aithlyn’s company than most.

“It’s easier talking openly about most things without revealing information. Makes people a lot less suspicious. You know I bake and know alchemy that I learned from my mother, but then again don’t most daughters learn this from their mothers?”

Maja’s lips twitched, wanting to form a smile. This woman was smart. “Indeed-” she was about to say more but was cut off by another noble.

“Until next time my Lady.” Aithlyn curtsied.

Maja noticed how well she held herself and narrowed her eyes further, “Hmmm.”

Looking around Aithlyn noticed a woman leaning against a wall close by. The look on her face spoke volumes of how much she did not want to be there. Listing back the names and faces in her head Aithlyn realised that this was Livia the Knight Commander. Deciding that she obviously needed a friendly face who wasn’t afraid of her scowling one, Aithlyn plucked a drink from a roaming server and walked over to the woman.

“You look like you need one of these.”

Livia just scowled further at her.

“It’s not poison I swear,” taking a sip of the liquid, “see?” and held it back out to her.

Livia gingerly took the goblet in question and grunted her thanks. Aithlyn decided just to lean back against the wall beside her and watch the woman. Livia was conscious of being watched but decided to take a mouthful of the drink she was given.

“And now we’ve indirectly kissed!”

Livia’s eyes widened in shock as she spat out the liquid and coughed before turning towards the woman giggling beside her. Fixing her with a glare as a blush rose on her cheeks, she fought to decide what to say.

“Oh, come on! It was funny! You looked bored here all by yourself.” Livia’s eye twitched, “you’ve got to admit it has gotten more fun since I handed you that drink.”

“I’ll admit to no such thing.”

“But you’re not denying it either,” Aithlyn smirked.

 “Lucien… Lucien!” Maja didn’t even bother looking at them as she tugged on their clothing.

“Maja, I can hear you and tugging at my clothes will not make a difference.”

“Look!”

Lucien looked over in the direction that Maja was pointing and was genuinely surprised to see the normally stoic Knight Commander smirking at a very familiar shadow.

“It would seem that a little shadow has managed to get more than a glare from a certain someone.”

“Lucien, she’s smiling!” he quirked an eyebrow at her, “ok she’s not smiling, but she’s not glaring and is actually talking!”

“Yes, I can see that my dear.”

“Lucien, you don’t understand. She doesn’t do that!”

Lucien looked over at Maja and merely chuckled at the bewilderment clearly showing on her face.

“It is not surprising that this shadow has a silver tongue. She has easily caught the attention of many people here.”

“But Livia?!”

Deepening their chuckle, “isn’t this what you wanted when you asked her to accompany you? For her to interact with others?”

Maja sighed and looked at the glamoured demon beside her, “yes, but I didn’t actually think it would happen…”

 Aithlyn barely got a chance to speak to Roux before they were distracted by someone behind her. Laughing lightly to herself she turned only for her face to hit against a pretty chiselled chest. Looking up she realised that she had bumped into Lucien.

“Sorry about that.”

“No harm done my dear.”

Maja was also in their company and tipped her drink in her direction, lips upturned in a gentle smile, “I see you got along with Livia.”

“She’s enjoyable company.”

This elicited a chuckle from Lucien, “you’d have to get past the armour first,” and was nudged by Maja with a scowl on her face. She was about to say something but Aithlyn beat her to it.

“I don’t know, I’m pretty sure I got off a gauntlet, or a shoulder pad at least,” she smirked.

This drew a bigger chuckle from the pair in front of her. Lucien was the faster of the two to compose themselves though.

“So, is our mutual friend here? Or did you abandon him again?”

“Raiden? I don’t know, I haven’t seen him since earlier today.”

“From the grin on your face, I’m guessing you won the game?”

Maja turned to look quizzically at them, “game?”

“It would seem that this little shadow wanted to play chase last night and roped a snake into also playing.”

Aithlyn grumbled, “I’m not that little…”

Maja regarded her with astonished eyes, “Did he catch you?”

Aithlyn’s snort as she shook her head was all the answer Maja needed and caused her to laugh heartily, “oh, you’re one to watch out for!”

Grinning and wriggling her eyebrows, Aithlyn responded, “If you can catch me.”

Lucien was about to speak but quirked an eyebrow when they saw a child tugging at Aithlyn’s sleeve.

“Morenth! Is everything ok?”

“Yes, Lady Lyn!” the child smiled up at her, “Papa asked me to find you, he said he needed your help with something.”

Taking the child’s hand in her own as Aithlyn smiled down at her, before turning back to look at Maja and Lucien, “I believe that’s my cue to leave. Enjoy the rest of your evening!” waving slightly before walking off with the child.

“You know Lucien, I think I might like her.”

The demon chuckled, “indeed, she does seem to elicit those kinds of feelings from people.”

“What kinds of feelings?”

Maja and Lucien turned in the direction of the new voice. Raiden was standing there in casual clothing. Lucien had to admit that the deep red open shirt looked good on him. It was rare to see him in public without his usual leather armour on.

“We were just speaking about how a new shadow is able to easily cause those around her to like them.”

“Yea, she seems to be a bit of a people person. Strange that.”

“Says the man who is rarely quiet,” Maja chuckled.

“I don’t know… I suppose I could be quiet… if gagged…” Raiden winked at her.

Maja rolled her eyes. Even in the short time she had spent in his company because of Lucien, she was used to his antics by now.

“Why are you here little snake?”

Maja couldn’t help the evil smirk that spread across her lips as she watched the assassin blush at Lucien’s question.

Coughing behind his hand to hide the blush, “Roux said Aithlyn was here.”

“You just missed her. It seems to be a new habit of yours.”

Raiden glared at Lucien, which only caused their smirk to grow.

Maja watched the staring match between the two from over the edge of her wine goblet before deciding to break the tension, “a child came and led her off towards where the townsfolk are playing music, saying something about needing her help.”

Raiden tilted his head at her to wink, a grin in place. “Thanks! Better go find her before she disappears again.”

Turning Raiden waded through the crowd to the area that music was being played at. It was in one of the open areas of the town as it allowed for people to dance if they wanted. He could hear the music before he saw the band playing, it wasn’t a song he had heard before, but the singer sounded great.

Imagine his surprise when he saw that it was Aithlyn singing. She stood on the makeshift stage next to those playing instruments with a look of delight on her face. Townsfolk were either clapping in time with the music or dancing in large circles. He felt as if he had walked into another town, the atmosphere was so different. He watched as people laughed and smiled, not to say that they didn’t do this on other days, but they seemed much more relaxed.

It was at that moment that Raiden looked back up at the stage and realised that Aithlyn was looking at him as she sang. She had a mischievous smile on her face as she winked at him, causing him to laugh and shake his head.

“We will be who we are, and they’ll heal our scars.”

His breath caught in his throat and his eyes snapped back to her. Aithlyn’s gaze still lingered on him before she slowly moved it back to the crowd. Raiden didn’t even realise he was blushing until he heard the man beside him chuckle giving him a knowing look.

At the end of the song the crown cheered as Aithlyn hopped down from the stage and sauntered over to where Raiden was waiting. His eyes appreciatively ran over the curves of her body and he smirked as he looked down at her cleavage. Her being much shorter than him made it easier to get glimpses.

“You’re rather subtle at blending in it seems.”

Aithlyn grinned up at him, “they’ll never see it coming.”

This elicited a chuckle, “Come on, Layla’s waiting.”

Aithlyn practically skipped over to the other woman hidden away in one of the side streets nearby. Raiden wasn’t surprised to see her stance relax as she spoke to the smaller woman, “you seem cheerful.”

Aithlyn’s features suddenly turned sombre and the quick switch startled Layla slightly, “sorry, I forgot you had to be completely serious… All the time… Like Raiden…”

“Hey!”

Layla sniggered at the exchange between the two of them.

“Anyway! We have to head to headquarters. Boss wants to meet our new recruit, here.”

Giving Raiden a quick once over, “You gonna change or what? Looking awfully casual there, Rai.”

Raiden presses his hands against the clothing covering his chest, “I don’t need armour, and I’m sure Aithlyn doesn’t either. Right?” He looks over and winks.

“Right… But I’m not the one with bounties on my head…”

Layla nods her head in agreement before stopping as if she remembered something, “Speaking of bounties, I’m taking the forest path. I’ve got a bounty to pick up along the way.”

Raiden sidles up against Aithlyn, “We’ll take the underground. It’s quicker.”

Aithlyn quirks an eyebrow as he makes the decision for her, “…I guess we’ll see you there…?”

 “Underground kingdom my ass…” Aithlyn thought to herself.

The smell of the sewer was causing Aithlyn’s nose to twitch. There were downsides to her heightened half elf senses, and this was definitely one of them. Raiden was walking ahead of her. He was still sulking from when she had teased him about not being able to catch her last night. Teasing him was fun and seeing his back in front of her gave her a great idea.

Raiden hadn’t even heard her run up behind him, so he startled when Aithlyn jumped on his back and wrapped her arms around his neck. Unconsciously he hooked his hands under her knees and kept her tight to his body, while shooting a quizzical look at her over his shoulder. He could just make out the delight on her face.

“Don’t sulk-”

“Not sulking.”

Squeezing his waist with her thighs she continued as if he hadn’t interrupted her, “since I’m in such a generous mood today that even though you couldn’t catch me-” Raiden scoffed at her, “I’ll let you ask me one question.”

“One question?”

“Yes, and I’ll answer it honestly-”

Aithlyn didn’t even get to finish her sentence before Raiden had slipped his left hand across to grab her right leg and spin her so that her back was pressed against the wall as Raiden used his hips and eyes to pin her.

Gone was the man who enjoyed teasing and tormenting her. There was a seriousness on his face and a glint in his eye that made him look like the assassin he claimed to be. A shiver ran up her spine as he stared into her eyes, but not of fear, of anticipation.

“It can’t be a coincidence that at the same time there’s an assassination attempt on the royals, that three of your countrymen arrived in Novus. A knight, an ambassador and you.”

Raiden’s hands were still on her legs, holding her in place. Her hands were placed on his biceps to keep her steady. As he leaned closer, she could feel all his muscles coil and she sucked in her breath before biting her lip. His eyes briefly took in the movement and when he looked back up, his eyes were darker. Dangerous.

“Why are you here?”

“Well because you brought me this route and decided to pin me against a wall…”

The growl he gave in response caused her pulse to quicken. What on earth was wrong with her? She normally had a lot more control over herself, but her body was betraying her by responding so deliciously to him.

“I was asked to come here. A request was made and the one person I trust more than anything wanted me to be the one to answer it.”

Time went by, it could have been seconds, minutes, hours, with Raiden staring into her eyes. She could almost make out the cogs working in his brain, but his features gave away nothing.

“Alright, you pass.”

Aithlyn chuckled, “I pass?”

“Yes.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

Raiden smirked, “you’re very welcome.”

Although his normal grin was back in place, he didn’t move. If anything, Aithlyn had to try not to gasp as his thumbs subconsciously started tracing designs on her thighs. Seconds ticked by and Aithlyn watched as his eyes darkened further as he looked at her.

Aithlyn decided to break the silence, “So… is this your idea of a date then?” She really hoped that she didn’t sound as breathless as she felt.

Brightness came back into his eyes as he registered what she just said, laughing he smirked, “Believe me, if we were on a date you’d know.”

“True, you are far from subtle,” her lips grew into a mischievous grin, “but then again you still have me pinned against the wall,” and as if to emphasise her point she deviously rolled her hips.

She’d never admit it, but she enjoyed hearing his gasp and watching his cheeks darken. He loosened his grip slightly and slowly slid her down so she could place her feet on the floor but didn’t back away.

“Maybe if you ask nicely.”

“Raiden…” she slid her hand up and across the available skin of his chest before gripping his chin and tilting his face down a little, “I never ask.”

The spark in her eyes caused another growl to want to erupt from his throat. Instead he took a step back and held out his hand for her to take it with a smirk growing larger on his face, “Good to know.”

Aithlyn placed her hand in his and let him pull her along in the darkness. He held her tight and close enough that it seemed like he was worried that she’d disappear into the darkness. She actually felt flattered and was glad of the shadows as it hid the blush on her face. Not wanting him to know that he got to her, she decided to joke with him.

“So, on our date you won’t try to woo me with smelling or sidestepping shit?”

Looking back at her with a grin, “for you? Anything.” He couldn’t hold back the laugh as he watched her eyes widen and caught a brief glimpse of her mouth parting in a simple “Oh”.

They continued on the path for a few minutes more. Raiden suddenly stopped when he noticed shadows moving ahead and the slight sound only confirmed his thoughts. There was someone hiding up ahead. He didn’t even respond when Aithlyn bumped into his back.

“Raiden…?”

Turning, he backed her into the wall of a small tunnel opening nearby. He felt her body tense and looking down he could see she was looking in the direction of where he had previously noticed the assailant. Raiden couldn’t keep the smirk from his face.

“Stay here. Stay hidden and stay safe.”

Aithlyn frowned up at him, frustration clear and opened her mouth to speak but Raiden simply placed a finger on her lips.

“How else am I to show off on our non-date?”

Aithlyn simply rolled her eyes at him, but her features softened, “be careful.”

Raiden nodded as he stepped back and removed the daggers from where he had them hidden in his tunic before stealthily moving. In startling quick movements, he had the man pinned against the wall by his throat and had twisted his arm to cause enough pain that the man dropped his weapon and it landed in the running sewage water with a plop.

“Don’t you know assassins are meant to be silent…”

“Snake…”

Raiden barely had time to register a second assailant as he moved away from the attack. Not fast enough though as the blade sliced into his side causing him to grunt in pain. Punching the first man in the ribs he turned to the second, just in time to duck a weak attempt at slicing his throat. Springing up he sunk his own weapon in an upward swing through the man’s ribs. Removing it just as quick he felt the spray of blood as it hit his face and hair. Raiden couldn’t stop the grin appearing on his face as he heard the man’s lungs bubble and drown in his own blood.

Movement to his right caught his attention and he turned to see Aithlyn approach, dagger in hand. He knew she was going to attack the other man who was slowly dragging himself away, but he still wanted to show off. Shaking his head, he grinned at her and while maintaining eye contact, he removed a blade from his boot and threw it behind him. The thud and gurgle were all the indications he needed to know that the blade had hit his mark. Standing, he wiped off some of the blood from his face with the back of his hand.

“Are you alright?”

Aithlyn quirked her eyebrow, “Am I alright? Raiden, you’re bleeding to death!”

Raiden scoffed, but he couldn’t hide the wince as he walked over to her. Aithlyn caught him when he stumbled, and he wanted nothing more than to cling on to her.

“Come on, let me have a look at you.”

“We haven’t even gone on a date and already you want to get my shirt off!”

Raiden enjoyed watching her lips twitch as she tried to contain her smile.

“Well I have to compare you to Eric. He was very nice to look at this morning after all.”

“Hey!”

Using the distraction Aithlyn lifted his tunic and gently prodded at the wound eliciting a hiss. Raiden roughly pulled it back down when he noticed her eyes tracing over the other scars that littered his body.

“I’ve got it.”

“Raiden I’ve seen your scars, you most certainly don’t “got it,” if anything you look like a pin cushion.”

He laughed but the movement provoked his wound, “Ow.”

“You know, for someone who looks like a pin cushion, you should learn how to sew.”

Raiden laughed before lifting his hand and tracing the scar that ran across his cheek to his jaw, “I can sew just fine thanks.”

“I’d agree with you if I believed you were the one to sew that up.”

“You’re right, I’d never let anyone mess up this handsome mug,” and he felt pretty smug that he elicited a laugh from her.

Aithlyn ripped a sleeve from her dress and opened the pouch that she had tied to her hip. Opening a small vial, she poured the liquid on to the material and looked up into his face as her hand went to the bottom of his tunic. His eyes held a bit of suspicion as she lifted his tunic again.

“This is going to sting.”

Raiden opened his mouth to retort but all that came out was an angry hiss. His blood quickly turned the material dark. She pressed harder to stem the blood flow but for Raiden the pain turned into pleasure and he couldn’t stifle the groan that came from his mouth.

Aithlyn took a quick intake of breath as she looked at him. He knew his cheeks were flushed, and he had to bite his lip as Aithlyn gave an experimental little push.

“I’m sorry… Did that… hurt…?”

The next push was a little harder and he couldn’t contain the groan. He watched as her eyes darkened and she bit her bottom lip. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to tug it free with his own teeth. Placing his hand over hers he pushed a little harder and lifted his eyes from her lips to a darkening green pair of irises.

“That’s good.”

His thumb was on her wrist and he could feel her pulse quicken. If felt good to be able to elicit this type of response from her. Her eyes lowered once again to his lips and he couldn’t stop the snort of delight.

Startled eyes moved back up to his, “what?”

“You’re cute. If I haven’t said it before… You’re cute.”

Aithlyn smirked playfully, “That’s the blood loss talking.”

Shaking his head furiously, he started to respond “N-”

“What on Novus asshole happened?” Layla stormed angrily.

And just like that the bubble Aithlyn and Raiden had created was popped.

[jenni42085]

Nervous <Three>

Chapter 3

Lena looks at herself in the mirror, the dress was a little too loose but knew Edna would fix it to fit her like a glove, but otherwise felt beautiful.  “What do you think?” Edna asks from outside the dressing room curtain.

Edna adjusts her glasses and looks at the shy girl who is slowly getting her confidence back.  “This is the dress you should be wearing.  I adore this on you!”  

“You really think so?”

“I made it didn’t I?  I figured this would be better for you.”  Edna replies as she puts a few pins in Lena’s dress to have it fit her like a glove.  She wants Lena to look amazing not only for her image but to know she helped Chris and Lena fall in love.  

Lena does a quick twirl and looks at herself at the three mirrors.  Ok so maybe Edna was right.  She felt like a princess in Edna’s black A-Line short strapless beaded sweetheart cocktail dress.  “Whoa.”  The two women stopped when Chris came in.  “You look wow.  Edna, this dress looks awesome on her.”

“Oh I know darling.  I do great work.  Anyways, Lena take it off so I can have it ready for you by tomorrow ok?”

“Sure thing.”  Lena said happily as she goes back into the dressing room to change into the clothes she wore in.

“So you like what you see?”  Edna asks.

Hearing Edna’s voice snaps Chris out of staring at Lena as she disappears behind the curtain.  “Ohhh, just admiring the beautiful work that you do.”

“Right.  Keep pretending.”  Edna replies as she goes to the clothes rack.  “So is she going with you to your movie premiere?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure she is unless otherwise.  Why?”

“SPLENDID!!  I have the perfect dress for her to wear.  I’ll bring that by the night of the event.  I’ll have a team to get her ready for both events.”

“You don’t have to do that for me or her.”

“Ohh I know, but I want too.  I like her and I think she will be good for you and vice versa.”

Chris nodded his head and made a mental note.

**************************************************************************************************************

The ride back to Marylea’s place was relatively quiet, but not in a bad way, both were in their own little world.  At one point Chris places his hand of Lena’s leg and she doesn’t tense she just places her hand on his and gives him a reassuring squeeze and a small smile.  Maybe I could get use to this, Lena thought.  Chris went on to tell her about the event they would be attending tomorrow evening.  It might not be so bad but, she wonders how life will be once Eevee is here.  She wonders if her daughter will adjust ok this next month or so in a strange new place.  Granted she and Marylea would be there she is slightly nervous about introducing her to a new guy.  

Again she jumped out the car before Chris could open the door for her.  She does as she did the day before and gave him a hug and quick peek on the cheek.

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Heading home, Chris realizes that he has some homework on his hands.  He knows more about Lena than he did the day before but he realizes that Marylea is right, he needs to know more.  So he figures he would add her on everything possible on line and then just read.  

Her Instagram and Twitter were the easiest to get access to since no approval was needed.  He has come to learn that she is a nerdy girl with a love of politics, cooking, and her family.  She has a huge love for French Bulldogs, Star Wars, Harry Potter, Dr Who, and of course The Avengers to name a few.  After further inspection he now knows she has total of nineteen tattoos but are skillfully hidden.  Can’t wait to see them in person.

Eevee is an adorable little girl who has the admiration of her mother by all the things she posts, he could not deny how much she looks like Lena.  The thing that stuck in his mind wasn’t the sadness of her post after Ezra’s death because that was a given, but how absolutely beautiful she was pregnant.  With his sister being pregnant a few times she never had the glow that Lena had.  

She has something about her that he just can’t describe, but he likes her … a lot.  He honestly can’t wait to see her tomorrow at the charity dinner.  The dress Edna picked for her was absolutely stunning.  He wondered if he should send someone to pamper her before Edna and her team go over.

**************************************************************************************************************

After getting inside, Lena Face-timed her parents and made a few funny faces at Eevee and got her daily update.  She isn’t old enough to talk but she has managed ‘mum’ and ‘bye’.  Only a few more days then I will have her with me.  As much as she has enjoyed her ‘alone time’, she miss her little girl terribly.  

She lays back in the tub full of bubbles and just unwinds.  Her mind drifts to Ezra for a bit and how much she misses him but then her mind then drifts to her few days here and Chris.  Part of her tries to redirect her thoughts but they go back to his beautiful blue eyes and his adorable and contagious laugh.  She realizes that in the last year she hasn’t laughed as much since her few days with him in her life.  The only thought that really bothers her is what will everyone think, even though they aren’t official on any level but, she worries what will her in-laws and family think.  She pushes the thoughts to the back burner and goes back to thoughts of Chris.  I’ll worry about it when I see them.

“So are you excited for tomorrow night?”  Marylea asks as she hands Lena a plate for dinner.  

“Slightly excited but nervous.”

“Why nervous?”

“Why not nervous?  This isn’t my scene.”

“Maybe not but I think he likes you so stop worrying about others, worry about you and Eevee and happiness.”  Marylea says as she puts food on Lena’s plate.  The two sat across from each other in the dinning room.  

“Yes I know.  I’m working on it.  It is harder than it looks trust me.  So when is your room mate coming back?”

“Not for another few months.  She is off traveling Europe with her new boyfriend.  Thank God, I like her but sometimes she is a HUGE diva.  But she is traveling so maybe that will get her attitude right.”

“Must be nice to travel with someone you love.”

“I know right BUT, I already know it won’t last very long.”  Lena looks at her with a curious expression.  “None of her relationships last long.  Generally it might be 2 to 4 months then suddenly they are done with her or vice versa.”

Lena takes a bite of her meatball and shakes her head.  “Can’t imagine going through men that quickly.  Even before Ezra I was never like that.  But I guess it is nice to be desired.”

“Everything comes with a price.”

“That it does.  So what’s on the agenda for tonight?”

“I was thinking we could hit up a dance class like we use to do before I moved.”

Lena looks at her and a huge smile spreads across her face.  “OMG yesss!!  I haven’t done a class in like two years.  I wonder if we still have it?”

“Ma’am we will never lose it.  If you don’t have any clothes to dance in you can borrow mine.”

**************************************************************************************************************

After the two hour long dance that was tiring but refreshing the two came home and got into the baby pool Marylea had put in her back patio. Yes, she had a pool on site but sometimes a girl just wants to drink and soak with out people bothering her. 

“I told you, you still got it. You were really working it during ‘Buttons’.”

Lena chuckles as she pulls out her phone and scrolls through pictures of Eevee. I miss that little face. “Look, I can’t help it if some of the moves were from that class back home. It felt good to feel sexy again. And I still can’t believe Scarlett was in class with us and I did better than her!”

Marylea nods her head in agreement and sinks down further in the water. “Yeah, sorry that I forgot to mention she would be there. But she is hella down to earth right?”

“You would be correct.  Kind of shocking. I guess a thing I wasn’t expecting was that she didn’t look too shocked when you mentioned me and Chris. Maybe I am his type.  Do you ever miss home?”

“More than you realize some days. I like knowing that I’ll have the opportunity to do my dream but some days I miss coming over and doing girl’s night.” Marylea replies as she considers asking Lena why anyone would be shocked about her and Chris, they mesh well.

Lena looks at her phone only half hearing her, “Oh geez!”

“Well, I’m sorry for being honest.”

“No, it’s not you. It’s the fact that Mr. Evans is pretty much following me on all of my social media forums.”

“Is that a bad?” Marylea questions drinking her frozen margarita. 

“No, not really but . . .”

“But what?” Marylea takes a gulp then stretches all the way out in the pool. “He likes you and is trying to know everything he can about you. Go with the flow and enjoy.”

“Yes yes. He even added me on Snap.”

“Good.  Let him see sexy Lena. Think about how you felt dancing tonight.”

“Marylea. . .”

She takes her phone from Lena. “We aren’t going to be shy all the time.”  Marylea waited until Lena turned her back towards her grabbing her drink and showed off her booty and Marylea quickly took a pretty picture of it.

“Did you just take a picture of my butt?”  Lena questions drunkly while flipping over in the pool. 

“Nah.”

“Ok good. Let’s turn so music on so I can relearn how to be sexy for tomorrow night.”  Lena says with a giggle as she strikes a pose with out realizing that Marylea is using her Snapchat app to take pictures and send a few to Chris.

**************************************************************************************************************

Chris was awoken by a few snaps on his phone. Lenagirl42085. Lena was snapping him at eleven at night. Normally he would have waited until the morning but something told him to look at them real time.  And he wasn’t upset that her pictures woke him up. It was pictures of her and Marylea in an inflatable pool. From the looks of things Marylea was taking all the pictures. 

They had on one piece outfits but Lena’s swimsuit caught his attention. The neon pink really brought out her brown skin. The words ‘Happy Camper’ were across her chest. She seemed carefree, happy, relaxed, and sexy. 

The first few pictures were cute, but the last one really caught his attention, her back was towards the camera. He knew she had a cute butt but wow it was perfectly round and he could see her Hello Kitty lower back tattoo showing. While he is always a gentleman seeing that shot made him want her in other ways.  As much as he knew that he shouldn’t but he went ahead and saved the pictures for his personal album. 

He noticed a text from Scarlett, which wasn’t odd but the message is what threw him off was the message and the video attached:

I met your new girl Lena and she is amazingly awesome and a wonderful dancer!  I totally approve!  

Attached was a video of Scarlett, Marylea, and Lena dancing to ‘Buttons’ by the Pussycat Dolls. Lena was in the center in some short short black shorts. She started out with a sports bra and flannel shirt on but then throws it mid dance. While the five girls dancing together looked great his eyes were glued to Lena.  She was absolute captivating.

Lena so far has never displayed that level of confidence or sex appeal with him. So far it has been shy and sweet. Good to know she knows how to get down and dirty.  He wants more time with her but not sure how to get her to spend more time.  He doesn’t want to take her away from Marylea but at the same time he just needs to know her more.  Before he went back to bed he lets Dodger out and shoots Lena a text to see if she wants to do before the charity dinner. 

**************************************************************************************************************

“Oh. My. God!!! Why is there someone else stuff in my bedroom?”  Someone yelled from the back room at Marylea’s apartment. 

The screaming made Marylea and Lena jump out of their sleep. “Shit.” Marylea says as she quickly gets up. “It seems like my room mate Julie is back from Europe a lot sooner than expected.”

Julie stomps into the room with her sunglasses in hand looking frustrated. “Who is this?  Did you rent out my room?”

“No, I didn’t rent out your room. My best friend Lena is here. Remember I asked you if she could use your room a few weeks ago.”  Marylea sighs and pulls out her phone and scrolls through a few messages on her phone then hands the phone to let Julie see. 

Julie looks at the message and shakes her head. “I still don’t remember. I just need my room back. And her not to be here when I wake up from my nap.  Please and thank you.” She states is a rude tone. 

“Fine I’ll get my stuff. Sorry for the inconvenience.” Lena replies while stretching and starts gathering her things from Julie’s room. Now what....

After she gets the last few things out of the room Julie looks her up and down and tosses her bleached blonde hair back. “I hope nothing is missing and everything is in the same spot where I left it.”

Lena rolls her eyes and tries to think of where she is going to stay next.  The idea of a hotel sounds so pricey same goes for AirB&B.  Her whole reason for coming out there was because she would be saving money by staying with Marylea.  Something will have to open up for her..  

After her shower she is still in a fog of where not only she but Eevee will stay when she comes into town.  Unnecessary stress.  As she was heading out of the bathroom she heard a familiar voice.  “Chris?”  He turns around and gives her a big smile as she is standing there in a towel.  “What are you doing here?”

“Well I figured we would do lunch or maybe a spa before the dinner tonight.”

Lena pulls the towel tighter and gives him a half smile, “As much as I would love to, I have to find another place to stay.”

“Why?”

“Marylea’s room mate came back and has conveniently ‘forgotten’ that I was going to be here for a month.”

Marylea chimes in as she sees her friend’s face fall.  “Yeah, I’m livid because she was cool with it one moment and now she suddenly wants her gone.   I get wanting to have your room back but asking her to leave really goes through me.”

Chris looks concerned as Lena wipes a single tear from her face.  “Well….”

“Do you TWO not understand that I’m tired from my trip and ….”  Julie shouts coming out of her bedroom until she notices that everyone including Chris are giving her a dirty look.  “OH MY!  Chris Evans.  Marylea why didn’t you tell me we had company or I would have made myself more presentable.”  Julie saunters over to Chris does a hair toss and her best pouty girl look.  

Lena looks tense at the idea that someone else may try to get his attention but knows if they weren’t meant to be then they weren’t meant to be.  Chris looks extremely disgusted as she offers his hand to her to kiss but he just shakes it and then shifts is attention back to Lena who was heading back to Marylea’s bedroom to change.  She does her usual routine and comes out in black capri leggings and a cold shoulder teal shirt with a high ponytail and bare feet.

Chris and Marylea were still sitting on the couch where she left them, while Julie was still talking about her trip to Europe on the loveseat.  Neither looked thrilled or excited but what Julie had to say but both perked up when Lena came out dressed with the same melancholy expression.  

“So, while you were getting dressed, I was doing some thinking.”  Chris started.

Lena sits on the coffee table in front of him since there was no where else to sit.  “Ok….should I be worried?”

“Nah, I was thinking since you can't stay here with Marylea, you can stay with me at my house.  It's a 3 bedrooms, 4 baths, a pool, spa, big backyard, and a pool with a huge gate.  You wouldn't have to see me if you don't want to with no worries of then paparazzi like you would have here and you can use one my cars."

Hearing this makes Lena relax, she bites her lip and looks at the shocked expression of Marylea and Julie.  “Ummmm.”  She knows she has no other choice and this isn’t exactly a bad one, it just means a little less time with Marylea granted she knows given the circumstances she would understand.  “Yeah, I think that would be ok.  Are you sure I won’t cramp your style?”

“Absolutely not, it’s generally Dodger and I at night which can be very lonely and boring.”

“What about Eevee, she sometimes doesn’t sleep all night, I wouldn’t want her to bother you.”

“Lena, I’ve got nieces AND nephews, I’m sure your daughter will be no trouble.  Plus I already have some baby things there so if you don’t have it I more than likely have it.”

“But Chris….”  Lena began to say trying to think quick of what other option she really has.

Julie once again interrupts the conversation, “I don’t think you should offering a place to her, there are plenty of hotels in the area.  You don’t her kid to bug you.”

Everyone in the room gives her a dirty look.  Chris grabs Lena’s hands and gives her a sincere look, “Just stay with me, if you or Eevee don’t like it then you guys can try something else.  Ok?’

Lena sighs heavily mentally weighing her options.  “Fine, I’ll try living with you a few days to see how it goes.”

Chris claps his hands together, smiles, and stands up.  “Wonderful!  Since that is settled lets get your stuff to my place then we can head to the spa.  Marylea, I think Jeff said it was your day off, feel free to join us at the spa.  My treat.”

“What about me?  Can I come?”  Julie says tossing her hair one more time.

“No, we will let you catch up on your precious trip.  I’ll get my stuff out quietly so you can get your beauty rest.”  Lena says with a small smirk.  Chris and Marylea snickered while Julie quickly turned around and stomped to her room and slams the door.  Lena looks at them and smiles, “That has never felt so good.  I think I’m ready to be pampered.”

Marylea and Chris both smile at Lena's take charge attitude.  Maybe setting her up with him wasn't a bad idea after all.  Marylea thinks to herself as she ties up her shoes before grabbing Lena's things to put in Chris' car.  

[angelicorn]

FFVII Remake Analysis Chapter 1 (2/2)

Continuing from this analysis.

Before Cloud can explain to Jessie his relationship with Tifa, the elevator arrives and Barret shoves him aside to enter. The matter of Tifa is left in the air and we don’t get any info about her from any of the characters. Cloud reverts back to hardened and closed off body language—he crosses his arms and stands noticeably a distance away from Barret and Jessie in the elevator.

In the next scene, we learn that their group is called Avalanche and that there have been assassination attempts on an old man’s life—we can assume the old man is some executive or president of whatever company is responsible for the construction and maintenance of the reactors supply power to the city. Whether Avalanche was responsible for the assassination attempt is unknown.

Barret makes an elaborate speech in the elevator about the planet being sucked up dry by these reactors. We learn they’re a group of extreme environmental activists. Cloud was a part of SOLDIER who is closely affiliated to the company in charge of the reactors and he was hired to help Avalanche infiltrate and destroy one of the reactors.

Regardless of Barret’s distrust and attitude towards Cloud, he’s still out here giving a recruitment speech. Jessie’s probably heard it many times. She shrugs when Cloud looks at her, and then as Barret grows more passionate, evident by the increasingly volume on his voice, Jessie covers her ear.

As the player—man, do we have respect for a guy who’s passionate about a cause—Barret actually cares about the planet, what a softie. And while he may not actually approve of Cloud, he still gives Cloud the chance to decide to join their cause. Ofc, in typical Cloud fashion, he rebuffs Barret, but the emotional distance seems to lessen. Back when Barret said “we can’t afford any more mistakes,” he included Cloud in that “we” and from that point on, they work as together as a team, with the rally talk in the elevator serving as some form of initiation.

Cloud leaves the elevator, Barret basically warns him no funny business or he’s dead, and a few moments after that, we see this:

How very touching—and from this moment on, the players begin to grow emotionally invested in this group.

Their cutscene banter and battle dialogue with one another grows on the player. Tsundere 1 and 2 is a force to be reckoned with. Together, they’re exhausting, yet entertaining, and that adds more charm to their dynamic. The game pushes you to play as Barret for the hard to reach enemies where long ranged fighters are more efficient to use and the switching of characters in combat adds a sense of camaraderie.

The way this game flows really makes us fall in love with the characters while also feeding us the narrative by showing us rather than blatantly telling us, which isn’t quite as obvious, but makes for a charming and unforgettable gaming experience, is amazing!

Barret and Cloud head down to where they’re supposed to plant the bomb, leaving Jessie a safe distance behind. Tifa’s name is mentioned again.

Tifa—who the player hasn’t officially met yet—seems to be in good standing with this group, after all, Tifa gets the player (Cloud) a job with Avalanche despite his status as an ex-SOLDIER, and is able to convince hard ass Barret to hire him for this mission. This piece of dialogue is interesting as it not only causes us to feel the pressure of trying to live up to one person’s expectations, but two. Barret wants Cloud to prove himself not only to him, but in a way, to Tifa as well. And from the way Cloud reacted to Jessie’s question about him and Tifa being close, Barret dropped Tifa’s name here for a reason. He knows Tifa is someone important to Cloud.

As the player, we feel indebted to this childhood friend who talked the player character up to such a hard ass. We don’t want to let her down by doing a half-ass job, do we?

However, in typical Cloud fashion, he reiterates that he isn’t one of them and that he’s only in it for the money.

Minus brownie points from Barret. He angrily tells Cloud to finish the job and we watch Cloud set the bomb with annoyance. However, this event triggers another headache with flashes/visions of something ominous. This leaves us wondering just what exactly happened during his time with SOLDIER that is triggering these flashes and headaches.

Cloud sets the bomb and we are given our first choice. 20 minutes or 30. Either choice gives us a wise crack from Barret, which is typical and expected, but entertaining to hear. Cloud senses danger approaching and Barret takes Cloud’s hesitation as betrayal—which isn’t unreasonable. Barret was likely wary of Cloud from the start.

Cloud and Barret end up fighting a weaponized, mechanical scorpion and, after all the battle banter, they win and head for the exit.

Amidst their escape, Cloud manages to rescue Jessie, who, for new players who are unfamiliar with the FFVII compilation, gives us an impression of a possible love interest, however the dialogue between the two is a little...questionable? Jessie flirts, Cloud doesn’t react. At one point, during the escape, he tells her to shut up and climb. This leaves us with the impression that maybe he isn’t really interested. But we must play on to find out more. And, while Cloud may not be showing much interest, the players certainly have the autonomy to like her as much as they want.

We come across a short scene where Barret tells Jessie to go on ahead and not to worry about him because he’s got Cloud with him. Although he uses SOLDIER boy in place of Cloud’s name, we can sense an increase in trust from Barret’s end. Cloud corrects Barret by saying that he’s an Ex-SOLDIER boy, verbally disgarding the SOLDIER title and stepping into a role that Barret & co. can depend on to do the job.

Cloud and Barret make it into the elevator and the bomb explodes, but the damage is minimal, perhaps just enough to cause the reactor to stop working. However, we see Heidegger and the old man make the decision to destroy the reactor. The weapons inside destroy themselves and everything in it, causing the building to crumble. But why’d he choose to destroy his own reactor? What kind of plan is up his sleeve by doing so?

Barret is noticeably distressed in the elevator, but upon seeing how calm Cloud is, Barret tries to settle himself down. Imitation is a form of flattery. Perhaps Barret is learning a thing or two from our favorite merc?

Cloud saves Jessie one more time, does an awesome hero jump and they escape before the reactor blows up on itself, cutting power out from the city.

Chapter 1 is over and we can’t help but agree with Jessie when she says:

Information we learned this chapter:

Barret, Biggs, Wedge and Jessie are a part of an environmentalist group called Avalanche.

Cloud former SOLDIER turned merc who is helping Avalanche infiltrate a reactor owned by his former employer.

This reactor supplies energy to the city.

The reactors are bleeding the planet dry and Avalanche is trying to stop that.

Tifa is someone from Cloud’s childhood who got him a gig working for Avalanche.

Tifa is also someone important to Cloud evident by Jessie’s question about her, the flashback, and Barret’s mention of her name during a crucial part of the mission where Cloud must prove himself.

Genuine questions we’re left with after playing Chapter 1:

Why did Cloud leave SOLDIER?

Why does he get triggered with flashbacks and painful headaches?

What is Tifa’s relationship with Avalanche?

Who is the girl in pink that we see in the intro and when do we meet her?

Who is that old man and why was there an assassination attempt on him?

What will happen to the people in the city?

Why is Cloud so aloof and cold to the people around him?

Is Barret cool with Cloud now or...?

Is Jessie into Cloud? (lol)

Is Biggs into Jessie? (lol)

Is Cloud into Tifa? (lol)

Final thoughts:

After playing chapter 1, from a new player standpoint, we can recognize that the game uses rhetorical appeals to convince us to feel and think in certain ways:

Cloud seems like an unreliable narrator. Now, I understand that this is a game and Cloud wouldn’t be considered a typical narrator or the story, but since we are taking control of his character and playing as him, we are experiencing this story through his perspective, which makes him a special kind of unreliable narrator. He withholds information, like when he tells Barret he’s fine even after experiencing a headache and weird flashback/vision. he hesitated to explain his relationship with Tifa when he has a flashback of her, he doesn’t have Barret’s full trust, he left his former employer and typically sides with the enemy, even if it’s just a one time gig. We don’t know much about Cloud Strife, but based on his interactions with the other characters so far, he’s hiding things about himself from others and from the audience. The game plays out to make us question Cloud’s credibility as the protagonist and makes us examine the story on a deeper level (character interactions, music, quests, etc.) to help us come to our own conclusions.

I love this style of storytelling as it leaves room for our interpretations and for us to explore the story through other characters besides the main character, through flashbacks, through quests, npc conversations, etc.

[kpopficsincorporated]

NK (New Kid)

Pairings: Bang Chan x reader, Jimin x reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Romance

Words: 2318

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a/n: alright, here is the first chapter. Let me know how you guys feel about it. I have a good chunk of the chapters planned already, so please anticipate!!

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Prologue, Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6

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Chapter 1

You were sitting where you usually sat – on the couch in the studio with Chan working away at the desk. You were sitting with your legs up and crossed on the couch, your books open all around you and your laptop in front of you as you typed away on a paper that you had started that day.

You had started your friendship with the boys 7 months ago. You had decided to spend all of your time studying in South Korea instead of going home back to the states. The night you met them was overwhelming but they grew on you and you grew on them. Now you spent most of your free time with them, still not having made any friends in college besides simple acquaintances. You had been working hard in school, not sure what you would do with your degree after. On the bright side, your Korean was much better and you could easily follow along with the boys conversation and were no longer left in the dark.

The boys worked hard to help you learn, especially Chan and Felix. If you started to look lost in a conversation they would take over and explain so that you could learn and keep up with the other boys.

Despite spending your time with all of the boys at first, you’d ended up gravitating more towards Chan. You were closest to him and spent a lot of one on one time with him.

Like now, you were in the studio with Chan, just sitting in each other’s presence. You also watched movies together when you guys had time, but you were mostly in the studio. You had never been able to spend time with the boys outside of their dorm or the JYP building, but they made it work.

“Okay, I think I’m ready for you,” Chan interrupted you mumbling over your paper, taking his headphones off. You looked up and then quickly back down at your things to move them off of you.

“Alright, let me hear,” you walked over to Chan, standing beside him and putting your arm around the back of his chair. He handed you the headphones and you listened to what he had prepared, memorizing it. Once it had ended, you spoke, “Again.”

Chan played the music a couple more times over before you were ready. “Okay, so, there is one part that is a little off on the bridge.” You pulled a chair up beside him, adjusting the mic to you. You sang what the bridge should do to make it sound right and Chan took that and added it to his already existing music. He played it back for you and approved.

“Okay, are you ready to add your parts?”

“Yeah. Play it from the beginning.” You had been helping Chan with harmonies since he learned you had a talent for it. You had done all kinds of choir from the age of 12, that listening for harmonies and correcting them were second nature. It was kind of a habit for you. If you listened to a song on the radio, it was a guarantee that you would harmonize. It was kind of your thing.

That was how Chan found out that you could sing. A couple of months after meeting the boys, they had left you at the dorm so they could go practice. You had a lot of studying and homework to do anyway, so you stayed behind willingly. You always put on music while doing your work to keep you from getting too bored. You had your speaker on and you were in the midst of performing a Disney song when you were caught. Chan was the first one to start clapping at the end of your performance, startling you.

He had then persuaded you to work with him. He had said he was struggling with some of his music, but you knew it was a lie. You still have no idea why he wanted your help, but you weren’t going to complain. It was fun and it was a way to spend time with him.

When you had finished helping him record, you made your way back to the couch to finish your paper – you only had two paragraphs left. Just as you had settled back into your place and rereading your paper, there was a knock at the door.

BamBam burst through the door, loudly announcing his presence.

“Wassup?” He made his way to Chan, doing some weird handshake and made his way to sit on the couch on the other side of you. “Yo, Y/N, wassup?” He looked like he was on top of the world and you couldn’t help but giggle, copying the handshake for his amusement.

“What brings you here on this fine day?” Chan asked, spinning his chair around and taking  a break from his work. BamBam leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees, stealing a quick look your way before answering Chan.

“I actually need to talk to Y/N.” He leaned back, crossing his legs and turning his body towards you. “I kind of have a favor, but it’s not my favor, ya know?” you furrowed your brows, saving your document and placing your laptop on the coffee table in front of you.

“No, I don’t know.”

“Okay, so, you know how NK helped Jackson on his album?” Oh yeah, that was one of the biggest things you had done. Jackson had come in one day four months ago while you were helping Chan on a song, and once he heard your singing, he had begged you to feature on a song he was working on. You were really hesitant on putting your identity out there, not wanting all the fame that came with it. You liked your privacy and liked not being chased by cameras.

Jackson solved your identity issue and gave you a stage name: NK (New Kid). NK featured on Jackson’s album and had become very popular among both the fans and other artists. JYP had you sign a contract to help protect you in case anything happened. You were officially but really unofficially a JYP artist. Only on paper though; you were very adamant on your identity being hidden. They had you create an Instagram and twitter account so that people had something to follow. You posted when you could and it kept people somewhat satisfied. There was still a lot of speculation as to who NK could be and you were once almost caught – all because Jackson wanted to go out and celebrate his album being released. Luckily you were decked out in dark, way too big for you clothes and Jackson had given you a mask and sunglasses to hide your face (just in case). Good thing, too. Neither of you realized that you were being followed. You were lucky that the restaurant you went to eat at had a secluded area where you could dine in privacy. There were all kinds of rumors going around and all the internet has is a blob of black clothing to speculate who you could be.

“And?” you asked, wondering where he could be going with this. Was there another picture of you circulating out there? Did they find out who you were?

“I have a friend who would like to work with you on a song.” Your eyes widened. Someone else wanted to work with you?

“Me? What? Why?” you asked in rapid succession.

“Who wants to work with her?” Chan asked instead, drawing Bam’s attention away from you.

“Kook,” was all he answered before turning back to you, only to notice your eyes basically popping out of your head.

“You’re lying,” you shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at the boy beside you on the couch. “Am I being pranked right now?” You knew exactly who ‘Kook’ was. Everyone who knew Bam, knew who he was. Kook a.k.a. Jungkook from BTS. Bam literally never stops talking about that particular friend plus all of the other 97 liners in that group chat.

Bam Bam just started laughing, as he put your finger down himself. “No, I’m serious. Kook heard you feature on Jackson’s album and has been your fanboy since. He was actually pissed that I wouldn’t tell him who you were. He’s been begging me to ask you for a feature for months.”

“Oh my gravy,” you looked at Chan, who was sitting too still for you not to notice. When you call his name, he takes one look at you and relaxes. He smiles and you feel better. “Before I decide, can I meet with him? There’s a lot of secrecy that has to be involved with me.” You turn your attention back to Bam Bam.

“Yeah, one sec,” Bam hits a number on speed dial and it starts ringing immediately. Your eyes widen in horror as he clicks the speaker phone.

“I DIDN’T MEAN RIGHT N-“

“Hello,” answers an eager male voice.

“Hey, dude. She wants to talk to you,” Bam hands his phone to you, smiling mischievously. You glare at him as you take the phone.

“Hi, Jungkook,” you greet with forced enthusiasm. Not because you didn’t want to speak to Jungkook, but because Bam Bam had forced you to do it now when you were wholly unprepared.

“H-hello, Miss NK,” he sounds nervous. You snort in a very unlady like manner that makes a smile flit across Chan’s features.

“There’s no ‘Miss’ needed, Jungkook. We’re the same age and you debuted before I even showed up in South Korea. If anyone should be respectful with their greetings, it should have been me. I’m sorry I greeted you so casually.” You hear his chuckle over the phone.

“I thought you were like, way older than me and I was super nervous about it.”

“Geez, Bam. You could have at least told him my age.” Said boy simply shrugged like it wasn’t his problem. “So, Jungkook, Bam tells me you want to collab?”

“Yes, absolutely. Your voice is really unique and I like it a lot. I do a lot of covers for my fans but I want to release a special song that I think they would love. But, the thing is, I need a female voice for my song.”

“Why me and not one of the staff members? I remember one of your members using a staff member in Seesaw.” You knew which member, but you weren’t gonna openly say it.

“Yeah, but that was for an album. And she got a lot more attention than she wanted. So I wanted to work with someone else,” there was a pause like he wanted to say something else. A hesitation before he spoke again. “I’m a really big fan of your voice. I would be extremely honored if I could work with you.”

You thought about it for a second before replying. It’s not like you’ve never featured before. And you were sure your surprisingly growing fan base would be happy to hear from you again. But there was still something you had to discuss with him.

“Before I agree to anything, there is something you have to understand,” you started, gathering his full attention. He hummed in affirmation. “No one can find out who I am. I’m more than just some hidden artist. I have a life outside of the music and if I’m found out, it can cause a lot of trouble for me. If I do this with you, you have to swear that you won’t sell me out.”

“I would never do such a thing! I promise! I won’t tell anyone anything. Please work with me,” Jungkook pleaded through the phone. You couldn’t say no to that. You’d be a terrible person if you turned him down now.

“Okay, I’ll work with y-“

“YES! You won’t regret it. This is going to be so much fun, I’m so excited to work with you.” You could hear his genuine excitement. It was almost palpable, even through the phone.

“Do you mind if we meet in person before we work on anything? I trust that you won’t talk, but you still have to sign a contract. JYP’s rules.”

“Yeah, totally. Whatever you need.” You let out a sigh of relief.

“When are you available?”

“I can meet you whenever tomorrow. We’re on a break right now.”

“Okay, can you come to the JYP building tomorrow? I’ll have someone meet you downstairs and you can come up to the studio to talk.”

“Okay, just text me the time!” You bid him goodbye and you huff back into the couch as Bam hangs up. You glare at him.

“Because you didn’t give me a chance to think everything over before speaking to him, you can get him from downstairs.” You would not be lenient today, you will resist Bam’s charms.

“Yes, ma’am,” he mock salutes you as he gets up from the couch to leave. “Thanks for doing this, Y/N. I’m pretty sure you just made Jungkook’s entire year.” He leaves with a final smile before you’re left alone with Chan once more.

“You were pretty quiet during the call.” When you give him your undivided attention, you notice how tense he is. “Can you do me a favor tomorrow, Chan?”

“What’s that?” he asks as he forces himself to sit back in the chair. He’s giving you a look that you can’t decipher.

“Can you please be there with me tomorrow? I don’t want to be left alone.” Chan smiles, getting up and sitting beside you on the couch. He wraps one arm around your shoulder and the other takes one of your hands.

“Of course. I’m always there for you, you know that.” His words make butterflies explode in your stomach and you’re perfectly content to stay where you are right now forever. And that sudden thought scares you.

[unholyhelbig]

Prompt; Emily gets jealous of some guy and Aubrey, mostly Emily being an adorable little fluffball

A/N: I get it, I’m on one when it comes to New Orleans lately. I also get that I’ve been MIA lately and I’m sorry. Life is getting the best of me. But I’ll try to answer more of these prompts. 

Read on AO3 | Send me prompts 

He could play the trumpet, and he could play it like a master. The sound would carry across every inch of the French Quarter and bounce off the moss-covered brick walls. It would buzz and culminate in her chest until her heartbeat seemed to deepen each time, he hit a dragging note, and it annoyed her to no end.

She didn’t’ know much about him- other than his boyishly good looks and soft brown hair that would frame his face in natural curls. The way he wore a feather pendant from Sabine’s shop around his neck every single day showed her that not only had he grown up here, he thrived.

The man played on the corner under the light of the full moon with his case open and his crystal blue eyes peering against the moon in a ghostly manner. Emily hated him, hated the way he played and how many people were captivated by his music. The way Aubrey would crack the door to the shop open just a little bit so that it would move through the corridors like a stereo set to the lowest volume.

“This is just Rosewater.” The woman in front of her said, snapping her fingers in front of Emily’s face to pull her attention away from Aubrey as she leaned close to the frame and watched him play across the street. “I asked you for a love potion.”

Emily had to bite back a snort at that. A love potion. The thing simply didn’t exist but the tourism in New Orleans depended on little amber bottles with cursive labels on them. The only love potion they carried was rose water- done up to look like some mystical agent to pour into someone’s drink, expecting their pupils to morph into hearts.

“Rosewater serves to open the heart,” She tore her stare away finally. “It’s a form of protection too, it would do you well to keep some around the house.”

“that’s not what I asked for-“

“You want a spell.” Aubrey tore her attention away from the man playing the trumpet across the street. Emily hadn’t been aware that her focus had shifted to their conversation or the way the stout woman was slowly turning three different shades of red.

She walked behind the desk and rummaged through the little tin box that carried a couple of twenty’s and space for keys turned in after a night of partying on the Quarter’s streets. She made a slight noise of approval once she found what she was looking for, blonde hair falling into perfect features.

Aubrey produced a medium-length strip of twine, the woman taking it with a look of apprehension. “This is string.”

“Correct, but it’s what you do with the string that counts.” She smiled and Emily watched, captivated by the way she handled customers. She always was straight forward and lacking cowardice. “If you want this mystery person of yours to fall for you- tie seven knots in that string.”

“What for?”

Emily lifted a brow and a smile formed at the edge of her lips “For each day of the week. Keep that person in mind while you tie the knots and guaranteed each day, they’ll think of you. It’ll be gradual- but then again, love doesn’t happen all at once.”

The woman seemed satisfied with the answer before contemplating it for a moment. She gave them an affirming nod and headed for the street after shoving the rose water back into her pocket. Emily was sure both would bring her good results.

Aubrey squeezed her shoulder with tenderness before heading back to the door to watch the mystery man play his almighty trumpet once more. He watched her as much as she watched him, sending slight smiles and winks her way. Her cheeks would heat up and she’d tuck a strand of golden hair behind her ear. All while Emily stirred nearby with her patience ending and her chest fuming.

Besides, Aubrey Posen was her boss. Her superior that hired her for some extra help in the little magic shop. A founding family in New Orleans that had prominent pull with the town council as well as every small business in town. There was no way scruffy trumpet man hadn’t heard of her legacy- no way Aubrey would fall for someone without one.

Except he had one, and Emily knew that too. Word on the street was that his whole family had played these very streets, influenced jazz in the town and practically helped spread it across the country starting from this center point. A center point where Emily sat stewing while she pretended to organize the books about natural healing and the darker stuff.

“What’s bothering you today?” Aubrey asked, again not taking her eyes away from him.

“Nothing is bothering me.”

“You’re stress cleaning and you only stress clean when something is on your mind.”

Emily huffed. She had been short with Aubrey for the past couple of days against her best nature. It wasn’t her fault if she fell for the good looks and charm of another. But ever since Emily had started this place back in March, it had just been the two of them. Two weeks ago he reared his ugly head and Aubrey had been captivated beyond reason since.

“Are you not one for Jazz?” She walked up to the opposite side of the counter. Right across from where Emily stood with her fingers on the spine of a book about crystals. “More of a country girl?”

Emily grumbled, “He’s not that good.”

“Oh? You don’t think so?”

She shook her head and shoved the book back on the shelf, but shifted three notches over like it changed something about the way the shop looked. Changed who could see it and who would eventually buy it. Aubrey smiled and looked down at the old wooden desk. There were carvings across the top, some old and some new, all traceable.

Aubrey finally spoke. “Ryan is a nice enough guy. He’s offered to take me to dinner at Roussos’s tomorrow night.”

Emily’s dark eyes lifted to the woman in front of her, all joyous and smiles. She looked proud that the man who could perform. Roussos was a nice enough place with white tablecloths and little ribbed candles on the centers of the tables that created mood lighting. Add a little bit of white wine and charming looks- and all of a sudden Emily felt sick.

“That’s great,” She swallowed back nausea that cultivated in her stomach. Aubrey didn’t’ seem to buy it but resorted to tracing her fingers over the little carving of the pentagram that had been there long before Emily started her daily shifts. “He seems like a nice guy. A real catch.”

“That’s what people say when they mean the opposite.” Aubrey stood up straight, “Now, I know I seem like I’m lowering my standards for a street musician. But this isn’t like with Paul- I don’t care about status, you know that.”

Emily stared at the woman for a few moments. Her sharp features were clouded by the golden yellow lighting of the little shop. Even with the spices and remedies around them, Emily could still catch her lemon scent and her toes curled at the way her voice carried that southern twang. The patterns she wore never clashed and her eyes were rarely unkind.

The young girl felt an odd bit of warmth with the statement. Status didn’t matter to a Posen. A Posen rooted in ancestral magic and New Orleans tradition. One who had inevitably fallen for a man with the ability to coax a trumpet into submission.

“No, I mean it, Aubrey.” She said kindly “I’m happy for you, I think you two will have a wonderful time.”

She spoke carefully and drew out each syllable as to not sound too disappointed, too let down in the fact that her boss would be under the very hypotonic lights in Roussos that rooted it to its place for decades. Aubrey seemed satisfied with the answer and nodded before walking to the open sign and flipping it to its opposite.

“You should go listen to him play,” Emily suggested with a light smile that formed at the joy in Aubrey’s eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll lock up.”

Aubrey relented easily and walked evenly to the counter before ducking behind its ancient wood and sliding on her coat. She leaned close, impossibly and stomach-churningly close, to lay a tender and soft kiss against Emily’s cheek. The touch burned like a heated needle piercing skin. “You are the absolute love of my life, you know that, right?”

“Get out of here before I change my mind.” Emily laughed, shaking her head as the sound of an echoing trumpet started to invade her thoughts. It got louder as the door opened and closed with a clang behind Aubrey, and even as she stared, hoping it would open once more to the busy Quarter streets. It never did.

She swore under her breath and moved her fingers against the molten spot where another’s lips left a mark close to skin. Burning it in like forgotten ash. Emily reached into the small metal container, ignoring the twenties and the paperclips- instead reaching for a small snippet of twine.

This had better work.  

[blurglesmurfklaine]

Pay It Forward

A/N: I’ve been stuck in a car for five hours so here have a shitty one shot for a dead fucking fandom because I know who I am and so should y’all at this point

Caaron AU, One Shot - Gas Station Meeting

*

A thousand miles down.

Carson tosses the bundle of road snacks onto the counter, including several bags of chips, a handful of slim Jim’s, and at least six bottles of water. He’s not sure if it’s the obnoxious fluorescent lights in the grimy gas station or the lack of proper sleep or exhaustion from driving so long but his head is pounding like a motherfucker.

A thousand to go.

“How much does that come out to?” He asks the cashier, digging in his pocket for the wad of cash he still has left.

“Seventeen sixteen.”

“Okay.” He exhales, does a couple of quick calculations in his head to determine how much he can spend and still have enough for the tank of gas he needs after this one is depleted. He has enough. Barely, but enough. “Can I add forty to number six?”

The cashier barely gives a puzzled glance outside. “Uh, I think your friend beat you to it.”

Friend? Carson doesn’t have any friends.

“What?” She points, and Carson follows her finger with his gaze to see some asshole who, based on his pink patterned pants and oversized denim jacket, looks like he was plucked right out of a John Hughes script pumping gas into his car.

Before he knows it, Carson hears the tinkling bell of the door ring as he’s bursting through it in a panic. “Hey!” He shouts, bolting towards the strange boy.

Said stranger just gives him an annoyingly charming smile and waves, still leaning against Carson’s car, still filling it up. “Hey,” he responds much too passively for Carson’s taste, like Carson’s anger just rolls right off him.

In Clover, Carson hadn’t had much hold over the likes of Claire Matthews and company, but he’d taken pleasure in the way they’d writhe underneath his sharp tongue.

“I know it’s a piece of shit,” he starts. “But it’s my piece of shit, and I’m not about to let some Wham looking douchebag take it from me.”

The stranger huffs out a laugh. “I’m not trying to steal your car, dude.”

“Then what, might I ask, are you doing?”

“I’m doing that whole pay it forward thing you read about on Facebook and stuff.”

“Why the hell would you do something like that?”

“Dunno,” he shrugs. “To be nice, I guess.”

Carson stares at him disbelievingly. He knows from personal experience that people just don’t just do things to be nice. People do a lot of things for a lot of reasons; sex, drugs, personal gain, getting into one of the Big Ten universities—but not to be fucking nice.

“Aaron.” The stranger says, just as irritatingly serene as the rest of the conversation, pulling Carson out of his own thoughts and extending his hand towards him.

Carson doesn’t take it, just keeps staring suspiciously as Aaron pulls out the nozzle from the gas socket and places back on the handle.

“Why are you really doing this?” He asks.

“Like I said, to be nice.”

Carson scoffs incredulously. “Why are you so calm all the time?” He asks, because nobody could possibly exist in this crappy world and have such a laid back demeanor.

“I think a better question is why are you so worked up over somebody trying to do you a favor.”

“Because I don’t want to owe anybody one.” He snaps back.

“You don’t,” Aaron says simply and Carson wants to smack the cocky grin right off his face. “Alright,” he admits. “You wanna know why I really paid for your gas...?” He trails off, hoping for a name.

He finds himself giving one, despite himself. “Carson. And please, enlighten me.”

“Carson.” Aaron finishes, and though he’s never heard his own name roll off of someone’s tongue without any sense of loathing in it, Carson is mildly surprised when he doesn’t entirely hate it. “I’ve been on my own since I was seventeen, so I’ve spent my fair share of days living in a car...” he looks pointedly at Carson’s. “And what that looks like.”

“I’m not living in my car.” He spits defensively.

“Summer vacationing?”

Carson just glares at him.

“I’m not living in my car.” He repeats. “It’s just taking a little longer to get to Illinois than I anticipated and I don’t see reason to waste money on a shitty motel when I have an equally shitty backseat—“ he stops himself suddenly, coming to the realization that he doesn’t owe this boy he’s knows for less than ten minutes any explanations... despite his desire to give him one. “I don’t have time for this.” He mutters and circles around to the driver’s side.

Aaron goes around the other side and reaches out for Carson’s wrist. “Wait.” He pleads, and Carson actively chooses to ignore the fact that’s it’s not the worst sensation he’s ever felt.

“What?” He hisses instead.

“You intrigue me.”

Carson snorts at that. “You don’t even know me.”

“Yeah, well I’d like to change that.” Carson rolls his eyes. “What kind of car is it? I can’t really tell.”

“Because of the rust?” Carson huffs. “Yeah, neither can I. It was my grandpa’s.”

“Vintage. Righteous,” Aaron responds, nodding in approval.

“Righteous?” Carson cocks an eyebrow, trying for judgement but it comes off as amusement. “You’ve got to be kidding. Who the hell talks like that?”

Aaron just shrugs. “I’m into the whole vintage thing, sue me.”

“Really?” He asks sarcastically. “I couldn’t tell.”

“Hey, don’t knock the eighties!” Aaron laughs. He hops—fucking hops—onto the hood of Carson’s car. Clearly this guy has no sense of boundaries. “If I could live in any decade forever, it would definitely be the eighties.”

Carson knows he would normally tell this guy to fuck right off, but the sarcastic remark lying dormant on his tongue is much too tempting. “Sure, as long as you’re not too fond of medical advances, human rights, or technology.”

“It’s about the aesthetic! The movies, the music, the style—“

“The blatant racism!” Carson mocks his excitement.

He points a finger at the skeptic boy. “You can’t tell me that the ending of Say Anything doesn’t make you just swoon.”

“Nothing makes me swoon.”

“Or that Thriller doesn’t make you want to bust a move.”

“How is that a real sentence that just came out of your mouth?”

Aaron rolls his eyes. “Come on, there’s gotta be something that gets you psyched about life!”

Carson lolls his eyes and head upward, like he’s searching for an answer. “I guess... I guess I’m pretty passionate about writing.”

“Dude, that’s awesome!” Aaron practically shouts. Carson will be damned if he admits that his ridiculously charming smile fills his stomach with butterflies. “What do you write?”

“Journalism. I think that as a society, at the very least, we owe it to each other to bring certain truths to light.”

“That’s really cool. I’m sure I’ll see your name on a prestigious journal one day.” His grin widens. “You said you’re heading to Illinois?”

“Yeah...” he feels his walls coming down around this Aaron character and instinctively bricks them back up. “So?”

“Chicago.” He digs his hands into his pockets casually. “What’s taking you all the way to Illinois? Long way from Denver.”

Carson knows he shouldn’t tell a complete stranger such details about his life, but he does anyways. “School. Northwestern.”

“Ah, for that journalism stuff you were talking about?”

Carson nods.

“Ive got a band there—in Chicago, I mean.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“But you wanted to.” Aaron says, perky and honest. “If you’d let your guard down.”

Carson doesn’t correct him. “Fifteen minutes and you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?”

“What put them there?”

He has no clue why he acknowledges the question with an answer, but he does. “I’m from a small town, and people from small towns don’t take too kindly to big ideas.“

He has no clue why he acknowledges the question with an answer, but he does. “I’m from a small town, and people from small towns don’t take too kindly to big ideas.“

Aaron just seems like such an open and honest person, it feels almost blasphemous to not return the favor.

“Tell me about it.” Aaron snorts. “Where’re you from?”

“Clovis.”

“Sweet, I’m from Fresno.” He leans in towards the other boy. “Practically next door neighbors. Weird we haven’t met yet.”

“You mispronounced fortunate.”

Aaron just laughs and part of Carson wants to yell in frustration because that’s not how you’re supposed to react to snark, but an even bigger part of him is impressed and, for a lack of a better word... intrigued.

He sighs and realizes that nothing short of divine intervention is gonna deter this guy from trying to be his friend. “You’re persistent, aren’t you?”

Aaron just shrugs. “Life’s short. You’re hot.”

Carson freezes. He’s not expecting that. Is that what this whole conversation had been? Aaron flirting with him?

A lame “Oh.” is all he—the Carson Phillips known for his way with words—can muster up.

Aaron plows right on with the conversation.

“Like I said,” he starts, hopping off Carson’s hood. “You don’t owe me anything, but if you’re feeling particularly grateful, I’ll accept your phone number in lieu of a thank you.”

“What will you take in lieu of a fuck off?” Carson claps back instinctively. He finds himself immediately regretting it.

Aaron throws his hands up in surrender and heads back his own car. “Alright, I can take a hint.”

A smile tugs at Carson’s lips. “Actually, you kind of can’t.” But there’s no sting left in his voice. He shakes his head. “Sorry... old habits.” He rests his head on the top of his car while Aaron nods understandingly.

“Don’t even worry about it.” Aaron hops into the drivers seat of his car and throws a carefree wave towards Carson. “I’ll see you around, Carson.”

He hears the ignition spark and watches Aaron’s car roll forward with a strange... fascination.

With the exception of Malerie, he’s never held a conversation with someone that lasted more than a few words, but here he was, staring after a stranger he’d just talked with for nearly a half hour.

His skepticism is screaming for him to just get in his car and drive away. He doesn’t need anybody. And he especially doesn’t need some pretentious dickwad who thinks that paying for his gas is gonna get him a phone number and wears ridiculously out of style clothes and says things like righteous—

He tosses his head back. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He mutters and before he knows what he’s doing he’s slamming his hands down on the hood of Aaron’s car in a valiant attempt to keep him from leaving.

“Wait!”

Aaron slams on the break and sticks his head out the window, a stupid grin on his face. “Are you crazy!?”

Carson just huffs. “Do you want that number or not?”

*

When Aaron’s finally left, Carson finds himself back in the gas station to actually pay for the food he’d abandoned on the counter. He’s about to leave when a nagging feeling stops him and forces him to turn around.

It’s not much, but it’s all he can afford.

Carson slaps twenty down on the counter.

“This is for the next dipshit who comes in here looking for gas.”