#love these creatures. they’re the spice rack <3

[blockofhoney]

so i made c!fundbomb fankids,,,,

(@wiiwarechronicles hi)

[aphrodites-law]

A Bit of Clarity 🍂 (3/?) The visions had started last autumn, a year ago now. It had caused a bit of chaos for some, a bit of clarity for others. Two days ago, Clarke Griffin had been perfectly fine managing both her Café and her stress. But now she was curious - so deeply curious about the vision of herself entwined with the aloof Lexa Woods that it was leading her to complete distraction.

[part 1] [part 2] 

A week after parting ways with Niylah, a sudden sense of loneliness hit Clarke. It wasn’t that she regretted the decision, but the possibility had always been there and that in itself had been enough to avoid confronting the glaring emptiness of her apartment. Her celibacy had felt more like a choice than it did now.

Clarke knew that the vision was the main culprit for the sudden realization that she had built her dream life but had no one to share it with. Wells had Raven and his passion for theater keeping his life beautifully busy outside of the café, while Gaia had the next five years mapped out thoroughly - her own dreams soon to be achieved. They didn’t have time or space left to fill, and Clarke had fooled herself into believing the same applied to her. She had menus to think of; new coffee beans and bakes to taste test; ingredients to purchase. She had events to plan; social media accounts to update; phone calls to answer. It was a headache most of the time, but she had a long list of successes to be proud of.

It wasn’t easy to admit that she’d neglected a part of her life - that she’d never had anyone to come home to in years. Sometimes, she couldn’t even be sure she’d ever felt a fraction of what Wells felt for Raven - if she’d ever gazed at anyone with such adoration. It would happen eventually, she’d always thought. She had time for that. But the truth was that the future had already come, and Clarke was alone. Alone and no closer to understanding a vision that she wasn’t even sure she could trust anymore.

It was a gloomy thought for a gloomy evening. Clarke enjoyed her plate of homemade ravioli nonetheless, a Saturday treat for an otherwise dull week. She had expected it with so many logistics to deal with before the café’s upcoming 3-day event, but it didn’t help that time had seemed to slow to a crawl. It was pointless to deny the source of her disappointment though:

Lexa hadn’t showed. Not even once for a croissant or an early morning espresso. Clarke had secretly hoped she would, unable to stop thinking about their brief encounter at the party. Something had changed and she couldn’t shake the feeling that Lexa knew it too. Which only made her absence more nerve-racking. Clarke had taken to reading the Gazette again, scrolling down the app mindlessly during breaks. She'd caught Lexa's name a few days ago and read her most recent articles, unable to stop herself once she'd given into her curiosity.

Her most engrossing story had been a special report on the Mountain Men, a group of people who had lived in isolation in the Costial mountain chain for a hundred years. They were a very particular case - their bloodline seemingly passing down a deathly allergy to the sun, or solar urticaria. Yet they had chosen to live in isolation rather than accept any aid, building their own bunker in the 1900s, a complex network of rooms and tunnels. It was only ten years ago that the last of them had finally emerged from underground, pale and weak creatures but otherwise strong willed. In her story, Lexa was remarkably descriptive yet respectful of their privacy. They lived on the outskirts of Costial now, helped by modern medicine and custom-made protective clothing, though never quite able to stand the sun regardless. Lexa had written that she'd met with them at night, and had been surprised when next she knew the sun had risen and they'd spoken for hours. The Mountain Men were neither a cult nor a mystery to solve - they were human beings who craved human contact like anyone else, only dealt with a different set of circumstances at birth.

Reading her words had given Clarke more insight into Lexa's work, but hardly anything on her as a person. And Clarke couldn't help but crave more of her.

The hope for some clarity came on Sunday morning. Clarke went to the farmer’s market for fresh ingredients and a bag of quince, planning to tempt Wells into using them. He was the only person she knew that was so fond of quinces he could be bribed with them, though it could be an acquired taste.

The farmers’ market was always busy; the sort of organized chaos that Clarke lived for. She stopped at her usual stands - first the vegetables and fruit, and later the meats and cheeses. Her bags were nearly bursting when she decided to leave, having been tempted by olives and a few sachets of spices at a new stand. It seemed like a couple had cropped up in the past three weeks. Sundays were never a rush, and there was still time to head back home before the café.

Clarke stopped short when she looked toward a honey stand and noticed Lexa chatting with the vendor. She had a dark brown jacket on and a long knitted scarf wrapped twice around her neck, the only sign that she might be bothered by the chilly morning. Colder winds were starting to sweep through Costial, but Clarke didn’t mind how quickly winter was approaching. It had always been her favorite season - and it was good for business too.

With the busy activity, Clarke knew that she couldn’t stand still in the middle of the alley. On impulse, she walked toward the stand.

“Lexa. Hi.”

Lexa turned to her, eyebrows rising in surprise.

“Busy market today,” Clarke said, trying to appear more casual than she felt.

Lexa looked between her and the man behind the stall. “It is. Hm. Clarke, this is Gustus. His bees make the best honey in the state.”

Gustus laughed heartily. “Flattery won’t get you a third pot.” He spoke with an accent Clarke couldn’t place, but his tone was strangely comforting.

Lexa’s ears seemed to pink, though it might’ve been from the cold.

“I’m just trying to help your business,” she countered.

“Sure, sure.”

Lexa glanced at Clarke. “Gustus was stubbornly staying on his apiary with a cardboard sign a few miles away. I convinced him to apply for a stall here.”

“A whole five feet of space,” Gustus grumbled half-jokingly.

Clarke smiled. “I know the struggle. They turned down my business partner and I a few years back.”

“What were you selling?” Gustus asked.

“Well that was the problem - nothing consistent. We wanted to do sweet and salty bakes, but we don’t grow any of the ingredients ourselves. They didn’t like that - said we ought to just open a bake shop. It worked out pretty well in the end.”

Lexa nodded, but her eyes stayed on Gustus and the stall. “Clarke owns a coffee shop,” she clarified for him. “It’s very good.”

Gustus’ expression shifted from a frown to amusement. “Very good? From you, that is high praise.”

Clarke didn’t have the time to question the statement. Lexa shouldered her full bag with a glare at him. Clarke realized then that Lexa had yet to fully look her way, let alone address her directly.

“My baker loves honey cakes,” Clarke brought up, trying not to worry. She hadn’t done anything to warrant a cold shoulder... had she? “I’ve been trying to get him to switch from his usual brand - and honestly it would be much easier for me than trekking to the East bank.”

Gustus brightened and wrapped a pot in newspaper. “Try it. See if he likes it.”

Clarke took out her wallet, but he declined.

Lexa scowled. “That’s not how you turn a profit, Gus.”

He scratched his long beard. “But it is how you cultivate interest and loyalty.”

When a couple arrived at the stall, Clarke moved to the side and Gus excused himself to answer their questions. Now stood much closer to Lexa, Clarke felt the need to fill the silence.

“How was your week?” She asked.

Lexa’s whole body seemed to tense. “Busy. Yours?”

“Long.” She bit her lip. “I read your piece on the Mountain Men. Crazy story.”

Lexa finally looked at her, as if suddenly jolted. “You did?” She sounded surprised, but there was a spark in her eyes.

Clarke nodded. “I’d heard about them obviously, but I’d never realized some of the family still lived near Costial.”

“They keep to themselves.”

“But you got them to open up.”

“It’s my profession. Besides, I’ve found that few people can actually stand to die with their secrets. Eventually we yearn to be heard.”

Clarke’s heart raced under Lexa’s gaze. There didn’t seem to be an in-between with her - she either didn’t look her way at all or stared at her like she might undress her. Though Clarke was aware her reading of Lexa’s expressions was likely very skewed.

“I don’t believe that,” she replied. “We all have stories we’d be happy to bury forever.” 

“Maybe I'm just too boring a person to have any," Lexa said quietly. She didn't expand on it and Clarke suddenly felt like she couldn't hold her stare any longer.

“I should get going,” she said.

“Did you drive here?”

“I did.”

“I’m that way too.”

“Oh okay,” Clarke replied, though Lexa had already started walking after a quick wave at Gustus.

Clarke fell into step beside her. “I’ve never seen you at the market before,” she said.

Lexa shook her head. “I usually just come in the last thirty minutes.”

“When they’re more amenable to haggling - smart.”

Clarke swore she saw the ghost of a smile on Lexa’s face, but she was well-aware she couldn't just keep staring at her profile for much longer. She glanced at the top of her bag. “Margie’s brie is really good.”

Lexa let out a little hum of agreement. "Her blue cheese is even better.”

As they passed the parking lot, Clarke threw caution to the wind. She had to at least try to understand the walking enigma by her side.

"So... last year we had an open mic weekend to drum up some publicity for the café. Friday to Sunday. We’re doing it again next week."

"Starting a tradition?" Lexa asked.

"Hoping to. People can sign up in person or through our website and perform some original stuff. We've already got a decent list.”

"That's a great idea."

Clarke tried not to think too much about her erratic heart. "It should be a fun time if you wanted to drop by; get inspired…"

Clarke herself had gotten an itch to be creative after last year's event. Being surrounded by aspiring musicians and comedians had reminded her just how much she needed her own art as an outlet for stress. She'd put her drawings to the side for the café but picking up a pencil again had felt like coming home. She figured Lexa, who had seemed quite comfortable surrounded by comedians the night of the play, might feel the same way about such a setting.

But her reaction was odd. She stopped with her brow furrowed. "Inspired?" She asked.

"To write?"

Lexa’s body immediately stiffened, almost like she was upset. "I see. I'll try to find the time."

"Great," Clarke said in relief, choosing not to worry too much about her interpretation of Lexa’s reaction. It was clear by now she couldn’t read her very well. "I'll put a slice of cake on the side for you."

Lexa shook her head. "You don't need to bribe me, Clarke.”

Clarke frowned. "I wa-"

Lexa looked at her watch. "I should get going. I'm interviewing someone in an hour."

"Have you found any patterns yet?" Clarke couldn't help but wonder, though the question was also a poor attempt to speak to Lexa longer.

Lexa glanced up at her, her eyes lighter than Clarke remembered in the glow of the morning sun. Yet it reminded Clarke of the party too - how close Lexa had been, when now it suddenly seemed like she couldn’t wait to get away.

"I guess you'll have to read the article."

And with that, Lexa was walking to her car, leaving Clarke with the distinct feeling that she wasn’t any closer to understanding her.

* * *

With the ongoing preparations over the week, Clarke barely had a second to herself. Her interaction with Niylah on Monday morning had gone well though, awkward for just a few minutes before Niylah had cracked a terrible joke about starting a band called the Rolling Scones for the open mic.

The makeshift stage arrived in two pieces early Wednesday, and with Wells, Gaia and Harper's help, Clarke was proud to say it didn't look too shabby - and definitely a step-up from last year's. Raven had come around to help them with the sound setup, a task she had essentially summed up as 'nobody touch my cables or I'll electrocute you.' And far be it from Clarke to question a professional sound engineer.

Around 5pm, with a tired back and sore arms, Clarke had again drifted toward the end of the counter and started drawing. It was a character this time - a scraggly woman atop a mountain staring out at the horizon. She'd started it after reading Lexa's article, wondering how one could stand to live hidden in the dark for so long, and what they might've felt after leaving the comfort of what they knew for complete uncertainty.

She glanced up toward Lexa's spot, trying not to think about her. It was such a strange shift - from being a regular customer to not stopping by once in two weeks.

"Hello."

Clarke dropped her pencil and walked back to the other side of the counter, smiling at the young man standing behind it.

"Hi, what can I get you?"

"Are you Clarke? I mean- the owner?" He asked with a slightly nervous stammer.

"Co-owner, yep."

He extended his hand. "I'm Aden Baltimore. For the Polis Gazette."

His handshake was limp, but Clarke could tell he barely even knew what to do with his body. His checkered shirt was too loose and his tie too long, like he had ransacked his father's closet. His dirty blond hair was neatly combed and he smelled strongly of cologne. Clarke guessed he was eighteen at most.

"What can I do for you, Aden?"

He pushed his glasses up his nose. "I'm here for the article? Lexa said that late afternoon was a good time."

He dug into his messenger bag, trying to find something. It looked very similar to Lexa's satchel and Clarke wondered if he was a protégé and maybe very eager to resemble his mentor.

"Here's my ID," he added, showing Clarke his Gazette badge. It was endearing, to say the least, but Clarke wasn't sure what to do with it.

"What article are you talking about?"

"To boost the mic event. Didn't you set it up with her?"

Clarke’s smile fell.

A puff piece. Lexa had sent a teenager to write a puff piece on the café. Clarke wasn't sure what was more embarrassing: that Lexa had assumed her invitation had been a request to advertize the open mic, or that she'd sent someone else to do it. It hadn’t even crossed Clarke's mind. Was that what Lexa had thought of their interaction? That it had been a means to an end?

"It'll go up tomorrow morning in This Week In Costial," Aden said, then looked around anxiously. "Did I mess up? It starts Friday, doesn't it?"

"Yes, absolutely, it does," Clarke assured him as she shook off the lingering feeling of vexation.  

Aden relaxed. "Can we sit down for a few minutes? I just want to make sure my notes are legible."

Clarke glanced at Wells and Gaia in the kitchen, both laughing about something. She didn't feel much like laughing herself. But the sooner she gave Aden what he needed, the sooner she could occupy her mind with something else.

"Sure. Let's do it."

They sat at one of the center tables. Aden took out his phone, a notepad, and three different pens.

"How long have you been at the Gazette?" Clarke asked him curiously.

Aden tried the first pen on the notepad but discarded it when the ink barely came out. "I just started a few months ago. This is my first time reporting," he admitted bashfully. "I'm taking a gap year before college and wanted some real experience."

“That’s smart. How do you like it so far?”

“I love it,” he gushed, looking more like a boy at Christmas than a teen fresh out of high school. "It’s so much easier to learn through practice.”

Clarke nodded. “So you’ll be writing the piece?”

“I’ll structure the notes and work with Lexa on it. She has to approve everything I do."

"Hm. Do you like working with her?"

"Lexa's great," he said, coming out of his shell the more confident he was in the topic. Clarke couldn’t fault him for his awkwardness - everyone had to start somewhere. "We were both new at the Gazette around the same time, so she says we need to stick up for each other. I like that. Lexa doesn't care about rank, just what a person can bring to the table."

Clarke had stopped counting the ways Lexa surprised her. But in the last few weeks she had learned that the reserved, serious woman who sat in her café was one hell of a poker player, related to the owners of the Polis Hotel, and revered by a teenager. Not to mention, in all likelihood, a particularly intense lover. Clearly, Clarke still knew nothing about Lexa Woods, and it seemed like that was precisely Lexa's doing.

It stung. Clarke understood that she was only a café owner, barely a blip in Lexa's routine, if at all these days, but it was Lexa who had initiated their first conversation. Clarke had hoped it meant a step closer to being friendly. She had thought maybe Lexa just naturally kept to herself, but it seemed like everyone and their mother - quite literally, in Gaia's case - knew a side of her that Clarke wasn't privy to.

"So, what can we expect from the open mic?" Aden finally asked, forcing Clarke to sweep away any other thought.

* * *

The article was short and sweet, though one of the longer ones in the entire section that spanned three pages. Clarke had to admit the publicity wouldn't hurt, and it didn't hurt either when the Gazette also tweeted about it.

What did hurt, early on Friday, was Wells coming into the café with a grimace.

"What's up?" Clarke asked him, barely awake. Today would be a long day, but they were ready for whatever may come. Or so Clarke believed.

Wells took out a folded flyer from his pocket and slid it on the counter. "You're not going to like this."

Clarke opened the flyer, her heart dropping in her stomach when she read it: FINN'S COFFEE & BAGELS OPEN MIC EVENT. FRIDAY TO SUNDAY, 10AM TO 6PM. 50% OFF EVERY PURCHASE.

Clarke gritted her teeth. "I'm going to murder him."

Wells cringed. "I guess now's not the time to add he finalized his deal with Titus & Son to sell his bagels?"

Clarke crumpled the flyer in her hands. "No, Wells, now is not the best time."

Feeling a blind rage course through her, Clarke grabbed her coat and went out the back of the café, passing a baffled Gaia.

She walked down the street with a fury in her eyes, fully intending on finding Finn Collins wherever he might be hiding. She’d wait him out at his house if she fucking needed to. But his shop down the street was a good start - his hideous coffee shop with the large letters of his name on every available surface, even the plastic forks.

When she opened the door, it was with the force of her anger. When she walked inside, it was with clenched fists. She scanned the moderately crowded area for a pretentious suit and a cocky grin, knowing he had to be expecting her. That bastard had made sure she'd only learn about his copycat event at the last possible minute, but she’d speak her mind. Oh he was going to hear her. 

Or he would have.

Clarke's resolve crumpled when she spotted the last person she'd expected to see. It felt like whiplash. There, sitting at a corner table, typing away, was Lexa. Clarke had to blink a few times to believe her own eyes, but there was no mistaking her. Whatever momentum she'd gained screeched to a halt.

And when their eyes met, when Lexa finally spotted her and stilled, equally surprised to see Clarke, it felt like time slowed. Clarke couldn't even explain why it hurt so badly to see her there, just that it did. Because of course. Of course Lexa would take her habit elsewhere. Of course she would go to the chain hell-bent on driving Clarke's business into the ground.

She hadn’t been sure what to make of Lexa's disappearance; if she was just too busy, cutting down on caffeine, or perhaps trying to save up on cash for the holidays coming up. It wasn't any of Clarke's business to know. But seeing her in Finn's shop, on the same street, typing away like she always did, drinking some green monstrosity… rational thinking flew out the window. Lexa had the sense to look away at least, though her hands didn’t move on the keyboard anymore. 

Clarke couldn’t even stand the sight of her, so deeply embarrassed that she’d invited her to come over when all this time Lexa had already chosen a different establishment. Embarrassed that she'd hoped to see her at her usual spot again. Embarrassed that she even cared.

With the taste of bitter disappointment in her mouth, Clarke left without even bothering to find Finn. Her body felt numb, like the sight of Lexa had replaced her anger with ice. It felt personal and Clarke didn’t understand it. Didn’t understand how a person could seem to care one day and look away the next. Could it truly be because she had refused the interview? Was that the way Lexa did things? Stuck around for a story until she was sure there was nothing to be squeezed out? Clarke couldn’t think of another reason.

Whatever it was, she was done seeking Lexa out.

-

[part four]

[lonelypond]

MoonLight Becomes You, Chapter One

Howdy! This is my @lovelivesecretadmirer2018 gift for @nico-nasty.The prompt was “Your Favorite AU” so here we are. No spoilers, you’ll have to read it to see, although there might be some guesses. It got more involved than I expected so I’m posting the first half. I hope that’s okay and you enjoy this, @nico-nasty. I tried to make it more Eli-centric than usual for me.

Love Live, NozoEli, NicoMaki, 5.7K, 1/2

Things Take A Turn

Eli Ayase, tall, blonde, quarter Russian, smarter and smoother than whoever’s standing next to you, was used to being stronger and faster and taller and hotter than everyone else. Part of why she had started hanging out with her housemate, Nico Yazawa, small, sable haired, dynamic, impossibly cute, was that Nico refused to be impressed or awed by any of it. Eli would wander into their bungalow’s kitchen and instead of drooling or dropping a dish or delivery a cheesy pickup line, Nico would just chuck a towel at Eli’s head and say, “Hey, Blondie, your turn to dry”. It was refreshing.

They’d met at Northwestern, both dance minors, and in the time honored tradition of Making It Big™, had moved out to LA together after graduation. The most serious disagreement they’d ever had was when Eli had discovered pineapple pizza and used their weekly take out splurge money on it. Eli was no longer in charge of dinner, ever. All food choices had to be approved by Nico via text or hand written note. Besides their Monday night indulgence, they took turns cooking, which led to their brightest idea, the Popcorn and Pelmini Podcast, where they talked movies and food, reviewing movies and describing the foods they’d cater based on the movies. LA was a hungry town in many ways and movies were everywhere, so Popcorn and Pelmini took off. Takeout went from once a month to once a week.

Tonight, Eli had strict orders to stop on the way home and grab pho and spring rolls, for a light Spring dinner, so she was was enjoying the walk through their Silver Lake neighborhood, after the afternoon at her part time job writing grants. While she lived for her chances to perform as a dancer or an actor, the solid job with the local performance academy allowed her to take a break and just focus on paperwork and meeting deadlines. It was soothing.

The afternoon had been bright, but suddenly there was a change in the wind and a bank of clouds raced in, darkening the day as Eli felt the wind push against her. Suddenly, her scarf whirled away, twisting down an alley Eli wasn’t familiar with. Her scarf twisted around a bike rack in front of two tiny storefronts, one had a sign with Cyrillic letters promising Tasty Foods, the other a crystal ball that mostly looked like a disco ball, painted by someone who’d never seen either. It was somehow a charming muddle, especially as it came with a whiff of rye, garlic, horseradish and dill from next door. Eli’s mouth watered at the thought of borscht or zharkoye, but before she could step into the store, a woman came out of the crystal ball shop. Tall, voluptuous, dark hair with an intriguing purple tint -- that was the only word Eli could think of to describe the curves the flowing fabric of a floral dress hung on, with turquoise eyes that caught Eli staring.

“Oh.” The woman put her key back in her pocket, “Are you here for a reading. I was about to close up?”

Sure, Eli thought, a reading, I can read books, you’re pretty, then realized that her mouth hadn’t actually opened, which considering what her brain had fumbled to was probably a good thing. Just stop at the first word, “Sure.”

“I’m Nozomi.” Her laugh almost tinkled, the smile was a soft, warm breeze and every waft of spiced air made Eli think dinner was cooking in her grandmother’s kitchen. She wasn’t sure she hadn’t slipped into the best daydream ever.

“Cool. I’m Eli.” Eli followed Nozomi into the store. Bookshelves, filled with knick knacks, books, candles, fabrics that looked hand dyed, and boxes of Tarot cards. Ah, now the reading offer made sense.

Nozomi led the way to a small low, wooden table in the back, two pillows on the floor, Japanese style. Eli was having a day where all of her ancestors were visiting. She hoped it was a good omen.

Nozomi knelt, putting both hands on the table, “So what brings you in for a reading?”

Eli was still taking in all the small details, so she answered Nozomi while twisted around, trying to read the book titles closest to her, “The wind.” Eli turned back to the table and now, Nozomi was watching her curiously so Eli smiled, “I like your shop.”

“The wind.” Nozomi reached under the table and pulled out a deck, “This is my oldest deck, I don’t use it much, but the wind rarely blows in such a…” Nozomi paused, “distinctive face.”

Eli took the deck, unsure if Nozomi had complimented her.

“Shuffle and think about what you’d like some insight about. Do you have a question for the cards?”

“Can I have your owner’s number” was not a question the cards could answer, Eli suspected. She wondered if there was going to be a change in the ordinary, orderly progression of her days. “Just some general advice.”

Nozomi’s face gave very little away but Eli might have guessed she was puzzled. Eli shuffled the cards expertly, Nico’s insistence on a monthly poker night had sharpened her skills.

“Place the top 3 cards face down in a row.”

Eli followed instructions, putting the deck aside.

“Now turn them over.”

Eli had, of course, seen Tarot cards before, but never really paid attention to the details. The first card was a man with a staff, holding off a group. You could only see the ends of their weapons. Cute little leaves were growing out of the staves, Eli wondered if that meant anything. She glanced up at Nozomi, whose face was once again difficult to read. Nozomi tapped the middle card, “We need to see them all together.”

“Makes sense,” Eli flipped the next card, which had a red devil dog person laying across the top of a clock that made no sense, staring at her, upside down winged creatures scattered at the corners of the card. Not even looking to Nozomi, she turned over the third card, still trying to make sense of the muddle she’d uncovered in the middle. Third card was an open fellow with a flower in his hand, setting out to travel.

Eli felt a little nervous. She’d never met the cards or Nozomi before, but she suddenly felt as if she’d let a secret slip out. But she had no secrets...well, except the big one, but if that came out in a Tarot reading, Eli would think Nozomi was the FBI agent monitoring her smartphone mic. Nozomi was now touching the center card with the tips of fingers, her other tapping on the table, “Not an easy read, Eli.”

“Does that mean I’m going to fly away, carried by upside down angels?” Eli really had no frame of reference for any of this, but was driven by an urge to see if she draw another bright laugh from the woman across from her.

Nozomi snorted instead, “The card is upside down, not the creatures. They’re all out of various mythologies. There’s so many hints woven together in each card. This is the Wheel of Fortune and reversed, well,” Nozomi hesitated, then rested her hand gently on Eli’s. Eli jerked a little at the contact, but did not pull back, “you may be due for some unpleasant changes and challenges as you roll through the cycle, but the seven of wands indicates you’ve conquered difficulties before so remember your strengths.”

“That sounds sensible.” Nozomi was giving Eli advice that could cover anything, but with the connections she was making with the images on each of the cards, the reading seemed less fabricated than Eli had expected.

“Expecting me to say you’ll meet the love of your life tomorrow at 3 p.m. and she’ll have…”

Eli cut off Nozomi, “No, I’m not that silly. I know divination, whatever your mystical beliefs, is a tool to sort through the things a person may be worrying about.” Eli reran in her head Nozomi ‘s last sentence, surprised at the “she,” but maybe Eli being a complete pushover about the reading had giving Nozomi a cue about her gay weakness for curves and sensuous smiles. “Besides, I’d rather have meeting the “love of my life” be serendipitous.”

“A romantic?” Nozomi took her hand from Eli’s and shifted the last card slightly.

Eli shrugged, “Not really. I just” and Eli grinned, letting her eyes do what she hoped was twinkle in a friendly fashion, “have expert level planning and organizational skills, which are great for work, but dating, dating should be something different...surprising, startling...serendipitous.”

Nozomi laughed. “You also have a distinctive mind, Eli-chi. This last card suits you, but don’t take offense at the name. It’s The Fool. It’s the bold start of a new journey, confidently stepping out to deal with whatever comes your way.”

“I like that.” Eli leaned forward, taking another look at the card, “He’s enjoying the air.”

“Maybe it’s a nice breeze full of Russian spices.” Nozomi swept the cards back into the deck, shuffling.

Eli chuckled, “Ah, you noticed I wasn’t checking out your shop. My grandmother is Russian. I miss her kitchen.”

“Today’s special is zharkoye. You should take some home to…”

Eli shook her head, “My housemate doesn’t let me deviate from plans since the day I decided to try pineapples on pizza. She’s expecting pho.”

“She’ll be wanting zharkoye, you know she will. She won’t mind. Just give her a wink.”

“You haven’t met Nico. My charms have no effect on her.” Eli stood, “but well made zharkoye might. It is technically soup with beef, vegetables and spices, and I bet they have dumplings so dinner wouldn’t be so far off from pho and spring rolls.” Eli reached for her wallet, “How much do I owe you for the reading?”

Nozomi waved away Eli’s offer, “Consider it a trial run. Just stop by again. Wednesdays they make an excellent zelyoniye shchi and everyday there’s borscht, of course.”

“You really like your Russian foods.” Eli shoved her hands in her pocket as Nozomi stood.

“It’s a very distinctive cuisine that has attracted my attention.” Nozomi opened the door for Eli. “Stop by when you figure out what the wheel’s turned to.”

Eli almost said “looking forward to it” then remembered that Nozomi had said “unpleasant changes and challenges” so nodded her head with a “Thanks, Nozomi” as she planned a dinner menu that would make Nico not mind the change in plan.

Eli returned to their small bungalow with two bags of food, having been lured by childhood favorites into spending more money than budgeted. Nico would go ballistic, but then she’d taste the food and downgrade her disapproval to minor grumping.

“Hey Nico!” Eli kicked the door shut. She could see Nico moving around in the kitchen, and then caught something out of the corner of her eye. Slouched on the couch, laptop propped on one of Nico’s impossibly pink pillows was a woman, red hair contained by a gray baseball cap tilted to the side with Refuse To Conform in a circular logo, dressed in green and purple striped board shorts and a black muscle tee. She glanced up casually, gave Eli a slow once over with extremely disinterested lavender eyes and snorted.

Eli put the bags on the counter, pointing over her shoulder as Nico moved to see what Eli had been diverted by this week, “Your stray looks feral.”

Nico snort was an echo of the mystery woman’s on the couch, “You should talk. That’s Maki.”

Still no help. Eli didn’t really like random strangers staring holes through her back so she pressed for answers, “Nico.”

Nico watched as Eli unpacked things that weren’t from their usual Thai place, “What did you do, Eli?”

“First explain Maki.” Eli hoarded the foil containers, enjoying the rich scents and knocking Nico’s prying hands back.

“Fine. You remember Nico was giving an interview to the Rice and Ramen cuties?”

Another snort from the couch, a burst of typing and as Eli looked back, Maki was sliding headphones over one ear.

“Yeah.”

“Well Maki was there. Turns out she does all their awesome music.” Nico hopped up to lean over the counter and blow a kiss in the direction of the couch, “So Nico talked her into doing some pieces for ours. It’ll take us to the next level.”

“NICO!” Eli knew her next statement would sound hollow when she’d just overspent their takeout budget on a nostalgia fix, but she said it anyway. “We can’t afford that.”

“She’s not a horse or my teenage brother so we can afford to feed her a few meals.” Nico opened a container and sniffed, “What is this?”

“I got blown into a weird corner with a Russian restaurant and a Tarot reader next door. She said they had zharkoye today and I couldn’t resist.”

Nico pulled out a spoon for a tasting, “Wow. Really rich stock. Nice. Nico almost forgives you.”

Eli unwrapped the steaming package of varenyky, “First you try the cabbage and mushroom, then later, the cherry and you’ll love me.”

Nico brought a stack of plates to the counter, “Hey Maki, you care what I put on your plate?”

“No.” There was a pop as Maki achieved full headphones.

“Is she actually composing music for us?” Eli ladled soup into three bowls.

“Yeah, she’s sharp, smart and really talented. Nico’s impressed.” Nico rubbed the end of her nose, “Plus, truthfully, Nico doesn’t mind the scenery.”

“Ha!” Eli was salivating, impatient to dive into dinner, but since Nico had drifted to that conversational lane, she confessed, “I met someone impressive today too.”

“Is she a Russian cook, because color Nico surprised.” Nico’s sardonic nature was a refreshing splash of tonic water in a world full of people outsmiling each other.

“No, the Tarot reader.” Eli sat on the stool, and started with the soup, having sampled the varenky earlier, “Her name’s Nozomi. She seems about our age. Not what I expected. Practical.”

“Practical.” Nico popped a varenky in her mouth, taking a moment for a brief murmur of enjoyment. “So what kind of package is practical wrapped up in?”

“Curvy.” Eli admitted, slightly adorable when abashed, not that Nico would publicly concede that.

“See, this is why we will always be perfect roommates,” Nico picked up the tray she’d loaded with bowls, plates and silverware and headed around the end of the island, “You like curvy and Nico likes...:”

Hungry as she was, Eli couldn’t resist the cue, “I’ve always wondered what Nico likes.”

“An audience.” Nico winked. Eli half turned on the stool to watch as Nico slid into the couch next to Maki, tray on the table in front of them. Eli was surprised to catch the redhead smile shyly when Nico was too preoccupied with food placement to notice. Maybe they were getting free music after all.

Eli had left her futon in the couch position. Usually, she went through her ballet exercises in the morning, but she had an audition tomorrow. She never enjoyed auditions...too many nerves, too many memories. Tonight, Eli felt especially jittery, almost feverish. A long session at the barre would help exhaust her enough to sleep. She’d be losing enough sleep tomorrow night.

Eli swept her long hair up into a ponytail, met her own eyes in the mirrored wall. Fierce determination looked back, a hint of sadness in the blue. Yes, tonight’s dinner had been a warm reminder of a time in her life surrounded by love, but it was also a time in her life when she’d been through the harshest of wringers, struggling to keep up with other children, other dancers, pushing down the queasiness as she stepped out on stage in front of a judging panel, desperate not to disappoint. Reaching a hand out to the barre, Eli breathed in, centered her weight and prepared to do her first GRANDE PLIÉ.

Nico had been lying in bed, a little restless. Maki had fallen asleep over her laptop, after Eli disappeared into her room so Nico had covered the composer with a blanket, sipped tea until the snoring started and went into her own bedroom with the door open. Sleepwear for new, cute, nice, if mostly inarticulate potential friend crashing on the couch? Nico had decided on fun SHORT sleep shorts with cartoon bunnies and a pink camisole. Why not be prepared for late night chat and sharing about music or dreams or professional aspirations. Nico fell asleep wondering what else Maki had composed music for and if Nico had run across her work during a voice acting gig.

“AAAAHHHHHHHH….no….get away from me!” Nico woke up, fuddled, heart racing, hair falling in her eyes. That wasn’t Eli’s voice. Nico sprang out of bed, hitting the light switch in the living room as she raced toward the scream. Maki was sitting up on the couch, staring around her, one of the glass doors next to the kitchen island open.

“Maki? Are you all right?” Nico shut the door, listening for anyone else in the house. Where was Eli? No response from Maki, so Nico moved back to the living room, sat on the table in front of where her guest was still looking panicky on the couch, hands gentle on Maki’s shoulders to command the redhead’s attention. Nico’s voice was soft. “What happened?”

Maki almost shuddered, “I...I think something sniffed me.”

“Hell…” So much for calm and softness. Nico snapped around and made for Eli’s bedroom. Sheets on the floor, no Eli, bathroom door open showing an empty room.

Nico walked slowly back to Maki, who quickly averted her eyes when she realized she’d been staring at Nico’s shorts. “Did you see her?”

“Her, who?” Maki was more and more confused.

Nico put her hands together, in prayer position, dropping her head into them and blowing out her frustration. She spoke slowly, “Was it a dog?”

Maki couldn’t read Nico’s attitude, “Maybe…”

“About this high?” Nico held a hand out, halfway between waist and breast height.

“Not sure.” Maki rubbed her cheek, “Just felt something damp and cold press against me.”

“Oh, Eli.” Nico muttered, ignoring Maki and heading back to the kitchen. The trash had been knocked over and bags from tonight’s dinner had been scattered, “What happened to you?”

Maki was standing behind Nico, suddenly close, “What happened to who?”

Nico turned, lip downturned, her face close enough that she seemed to be searching Maki’s eyes and decided to shoot off a question. “What’s your stance on cryptids?”

“Cryptids?” Maki had absolutely no idea what this conversation was about or why Nico was so intense or why she couldn’t stop staring at the tiny tiny flecks of deeper ruby flicked across Nico’s irises.

Nico stepped back, rubbing her forehead, then counting things off with her fingers, “Vampires, Big Foot, Yeti, Jersey Devil, Loch Ness Monster...werewolves…”

Maki tentatively decided to try breaking the mood, “Nessie always takes good pictures.”

Wrong move. Nico threw up her hands, stormed to the glass doors and a rant slowly gained volume and speed, “Wakes Nico up by scaring the life out of her, doesn’t bother to notice who sniffed her, then decides to be funny right when Nico has to figure out what to do…” Nico leaned forward, her hands on the doors.

Maki was having even more trouble than usual processing thoughts, due to being startled awake, events that made no sense, Nico’s rant continuing sotto voce, a craving for donuts and/or coffee, and being unable not to stare at the muscles of Nico’s legs as the hem of her shorts brushed them. “I’m…sorry.”

Nico stopped muttering and turned around, “Huh?”

Maki twirled a strand of hair, managing to almost look Nico in the eye, “I’m still a little fuzzy, maybe still partly asleep. I can help more with coffee.”

“Nico doesn’t have time for that.” Nico grabbed a bag scrap off the floor, “Dawn’s only a couple of hours away.”

“Dawn?” Maki guessed that had something to do with the cryptid comment, but it was only a guess.

“Nico has to get dressed. And play detective.” Nico dodged around Maki, heading to her room, but Maki’s hands were suddenly on her waist, spinning her.

“Explain. Please.”

Once again, Nico’s face was so close that Maki nearly stopped breathing, caught in a fierce scrutiny.

Nico gently removed Maki’s hands. “How about Nico promises to explain later after she finds her roommate?”

Maki’s turn to take a moment to consider what she could read from Nico’s face. Mostly worry, determination, some concern that seemed directed at Maki. Maki decided to trust Nico. “If you let me help.”

Nico nodded, then shoved a torn off part of bag at Maki, “Do you know where that is?”

Maki read the address, “Oh yeah, it’s pretty close to a few clubs I know. I didn’t know anything new had opened there.”

Nico tilted her head, recalibrating, “And Nico thought you spent all your nights on other people’s couches. Not out dancing.”

Maki decided not to answer as she calculated the best way to get there.

“Nico will be back in two minutes. Grab a snack out of the cabinets next to the fridge. Sorry about the coffee, we’ll stop if we find a place.” Nico paused and glanced back, “Pull some raw meat out of the fridge, there’s chicken. Storage bags to the left of the sink.”

Food would help Maki makes sense out of this morning. Being woken up by some kind of animal -- who has a ‘cryptid’ crossing in their living room -- hadn’t been pleasant, but watching Nico crisis solve in her pajamas was kinda fascinating. Maki didn’t mind following along for the ride.

Nico was driving, telling Maki to look out for a fluffy greyhound type of dog, nearly three feet tall, very light fur. They parked a couple blocks off the restaurant's corner. Wind was starting to whip up a bit so Maki zipped her hoodie, chasing after a Nico who was moving nearly as fast as the car had been, head snapping from side to side. Maki found herself listening, but it was still predawn enough that the birds hadn’t hit yawning yet so the air was a mix of distant cars and rustling leaves, with the faint thump of a bass line amped somewhere to the west. Maki pulled out her Tascam and hit record as she walked. It might fit nicely into a set when she wanted to slow down the mood for the night.

Nico stopped, which Maki only realized when she nearly caused Nico to fall, drawing a hiss from the shorter woman.

“Sorry.” Maki pocketed the recorder, wondering what caught Nico’s attention. A moving white animal seemed to be rustling in a pile of trash.

“How did she do that…” Nico muttered, walking quickly, but careful to stay calm, “Hey, Eli...it’s Nico. We need to get you home. It’s almost dawn.” Nico opened the bag of raw chicken. “C’mon.”

Eli. Maki just stood there, watching Nico approach the……...dog? Cryptid? Creature? Quick inventory, four legs, tail, not hunched over and tearing a spine out of someone, wait what if it started tearing the spine out of....Maki found herself slow running to catch up to “NICO!”

Nico didn’t turned but waved Maki back, which Maki ignored. They were approaching the two storefront corner now and the...creature...paused, sniffing. Then a light went on in the storefront without weird partly Greek writing and Nico and the creature turned, the creature with a single bark.

“Can I help you?” A tall woman with purple tinted hair loose around her shoulders stepped out of the door.

Maki glanced to Nico, who sighed, “Hi, new person.” Nico pointed, “Nico needs to get her into my car.”

Maki, hand on Nico’s shoulder, watched as the creature slowly, skittishly sniffed the newcomer, who knelt and smiled, hand out “That’s a popular hair color on this block, recently.”

“No it’s not.” Nico zoomed in, bag under the nose as the creature whined and stuck her snout in and started chewing. “Come on, E…” Nico coughed, “come back to the car, you. Nico needs her beauty sleep.”

Hopping backwards, Nico seemed to be successful in her attempts to lure as they were getting closer to her car. Maki jumped ahead to open the back door, which they’d left unlocked for quick grabs, then stepped to the side. Nico tossed the bag into the back seat with an urgent, “You can do it, get the treat, c’mon, do it for Nico.” The creature stared at Nico for a moment, then climbed into the seat. Nico shut the door and leaned back against the car. No way the chicken and drool stain was coming out easily, but that would be Eli’s problem, not Nico’s.

“Thanks, person Nico does not know. Sorry to disturb you this early.” She stood, “C’mon, Maki.”

Maki was pretty sure she should be offended that Nico had used that same tone of voice on the creature, but she slid into the passenger side as Nico tried to get around the new person. The creature had settled into the back seat and was licking its paws so Maki rolled down her window a bit.

Nozomi held her arms akimbo, “It’s no problem, Nico, right? I’m Nozomi. I was just up to go to the temple I volunteer at. That’s a beautiful dog.”

“Thanks.” Nico grumped, “She always attracts attention. And now I really have to get her home.”

Nozomi was confused by Nico’s brusqueness, which didn’t slow Nico down at all. She was in the car, turning the key in the ignition and giving Maki orders before Nozomi managed to say “Have a nice day.”

“Grab the blanket out of that bag at your feet and toss it over Eli, please.” Nico hit the accelerator. If it had been a manual, she might have shredded the clutch.

Maki unzipped the bag, “Okay, why? And why were you so rude?”

Nico turned from the road to grit her teeth at Maki, “Nico is always charming. But Eli is going to be a naked blonde woman in another couple of minutes and I know she’d prefer we all spare ourselves that sight.”

Maki shrunk a little, suddenly reminded this wasn’t an ordinary lost dog hunt and Nico still had a lot to explain.

Nico reached out a hand and patted Maki on the knee. “Thanks for helping out, Maki. Nico has to solo too often. It’s nice to have company.”

“Yeah,” Maki yawned as she dropped the blanket over the seat. She was ready to fall asleep again, as uncomfortable as Nico’s couch had been.

Something thumped into the back of Maki’s seat with a whimper, followed by a brief howl whine. Nico was holding her breath, hand frozen on Maki’s leg, “Eli?”

“Nico?” Rustling noises now and maybe some crying, but Maki didn’t want to turn around. She sensed that that would not be a Nico approved choice.

“It’s all right, Eli. We found you. You had a Russian food craving.”

“Why did I…” Eli’’s voice shook, fearful…”was that Nozomi?”

Nico’s hands were now both on the steering wheel, knuckle white grip, while her voice spilled comfort. “Yeah, but she just thought you were a lost dog.”

“Nico…” Another cry.

“Don’t worry about it, Eli. We’ll figure it out after we get home. Is your head hurting?”

“Yes.”

“Nico brought some aspirin, Maki’ll get it out of the bag for you, please, Maki.”

Maki nodded and Nico smiled. The pill and water bottles were easy enough to find. Maki handed them over the seat to Eli, whose eyes were red and almost as runny as her nose.

“Here you go.” Maki cleared her throat. “You don’t have to worry about me. I don’t talk to people. It’s just...well, Nico obviously needed help.” Nico snorted.

Eli nodded, her voice a tired mutter. “Thanks. Nico does a lot. She’s pretty amazing.”

Maki grunted. Nico crowed, hands loosening on the wheel, “Nico has a fan club now. Let’s hear some cheers, pretty girls.” One hand flew up to her temple, “Nico Nico Ni.”

Silence greeted that initiative but Nico couldn’t throttle back her cheeky grin. Which Maki couldn’t resist echoing. Eli just moaned, curled up in the blanket, miserable, head throbbing from trying to run wolf senses through human circuits. Nozomi had sounded so kind.

Maki had settled back in on the couch, Eli had gone to shower and Nico was making coffee. She wasn’t getting any more sleep and she doubted Eli would. Maki had been silent when they hit the house, yawning and stretching out under the blanket, still in her hoodie. Nico wasn’t sure if she should be impressed or worried by how noncommittal the redhead was. But that wasn’t the immediate problem. The immediate problem was that Eli only ever turned one night a month and last night wasn’t it. Or else Maki would not have been on Nico’s couch. Tonight, tonight, Eli would have been prepared. Tonight, no one would be on the couch and Eli would be sedated and sleeping it off like a bad hangover.

Eli sat down at the island, hair still wet, blue striped dress shirt still not tucked into her pencil skirt; Nico pushed a mug of half hot chocolate, half coffee her way. Eli smiled at the smell, “Thanks for the treat, Nico.”

Nico shrugged, swigging from her own mug, half coffee, half home made vanilla bean coffee creamer, “You had a rough night.” Eli nodded. “Do you know what happened?”

Eli shook her head, then opened her mouth to wave off the heat from the hastily gulped drink. Her throat was now going to hurt as much as everything else today. Cheerful. “I was restless, I didn’t actually think I’d get to sleep…”

“Nervous about the audition?” Nico asked.

Eli closed her eyes with a sigh, “Always. Then…” Eli rubbed her forehead, aggressively, Nico almost considered pulling away her hands, “there were smells and I remembered...someone friendly...and you were there...and I was hungry and wanted to go home???” Eli preferred treating being a werewolf like a sick day spent recovering from outpatient surgery: plan around it, refuse to let it disrupt anything and stay in bed to aid recovery. Very Eli. Control the problem, organize the symptoms.

“Nozomi was there.” Nico mentioned casually.

“I know.”

“Do you think it was because of her? This all started at puberty right, maybe it’s hormones?”

“Oh, and I’m suddenly going to “alpha” and start jumping on anything in heat?” Eli’s voice was scornful and she finished her drink quickly, the better to storm off.

“Eli,” Nico grabbed Eli’s hands, trapping them around her mug, “I didn’t mean that. It’s just…” Nico’s hands were warm, “people act differently when they’re attracted to someone. It’s not rational. And this close to the full moon, it might have tipped you…”

“That’s ridiculous, Nico.” Eli’s voice raised, Nico glanced to the couch. “I am in control of my emotions.” Eli shook off Nico’s hands. “I don’t know why it happened, but I will be making sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Okay, Eli.” Nico deliberately ignored all the screaming alarm flares that Eli did not actually have the situation under control, “Just tell Nico if you need any help. I’ll make sure Maki’s not around tonight.”

“Thanks Nico.” Eli stood, tucked her shirt in, ponytailed her hair, buttoned everything but the top button and became All Business Eli. Nico, a master of presentation herself, was always impressed by how Eli never cracked the polished, professional, emotionless facade. If Nico hadn’t caught Eli sobbing, drunk and vulnerable after a bad breakup, one night their freshman year, Nico might have never known the caring, emotionally clueless, mischievous, sometimes straight up silly person under all the imposed self control. Dancers always pushed their bodies, training their minds to overcome pain. Eli practiced that on her emotions as well. Nico’s job as a friend was to get Eli to ease back on herself, but it was a struggle.

“Are you going to wake her up?” Eli asked, gesturing over her shoulder at the snoring redhead.

Nico’s answer was no, she was going to sneak out quietly and leave a note for the too cute to disturb visitor, then hurry home after her meeting with her agent, but she knew Eli wouldn’t approve of that. So she hedged. “Nico will take care of it.”

“Good.”

It had been a quiet morning at the shrine. Nozomi was back home with a cup of tea, pondering the scene this morning. The small, dark haired woman had been behaving suspiciously with the taller redhead obviously half a step behind on whatever the plan was. They didn’t live in the neighborhood, so their dog must have wandered. Unless it was drawn by the smell of the Cafe next door. Perhaps it was one of those Russian wolfhounds, Nozomi thought, bolshoi, no borzoi. She, Nico had called her a she, had seemed quiet, shy. So not a boisterous borzoi, Nozomi giggled to herself. Perhaps it was drawn by the smell, this morning, there was strongly spiced tea in the air, probably with dense, sweet tea cakes ready to dust your fingers with sugar. Thinking of the menu next door brought back a memory of yesterday afternoon and the tall Russian food aficionado  with the twinkling blue eyes. She wondered if Eli liked sweets, maybe she should start keeping them around in case the Wheel of Fortune rolled Eli back into her shop. Ah, but Nozomi stopped herself there, it was no good wishing for tall, pretty, stacked blondes with smart cerulean eyes to return, the Universe didn’t work like that. Although, perhaps a trail of Prague cake slices would work if Eli really did have a sweet tooth.

Nozomi sighed. She obviously wasn’t getting Eli off her mind this morning. She reached for her deck, the same one she’d handed to Eli and dealt three cards. After a minute to center her feelings, she turned them over. Five of Swords. A problem card. Next. Death. Nozomi drew a breath. Change. Upheaval. She rarely drew that card for herself, settled into a routine that brought her satisfaction, if not joy. What would the Future bring. Nozomi stared at the Queen of Cups, blonde hair cascading to her shoulder as she sipped from the cup where her emotions and thoughts gathered. Nozomi tried not to see Eli there, on a throne, graceful hands bringing up the cup to her glistening mouth. Nozomi, startled by the vividness of the image, swept the three back into the deck, discomfited. What did the cards have in store?

A/N: Hi! This was a gift for @nico-nasty on Tumblr. The prompt was Eli, Kanan, Nico, Maki and "your favorite AU." Which I was forced by my wife to admit was werewolf so here we are, an Eli-centric Bibi werewolf AU. The plot got more complicated than I expected (color no one who follows my stories surprised) so this is the first half. I'll be working on the second half in the beginning of March (i have a Christmas fic to finish and Casual Lunacy to continue). Hope you enjoy!

Also, there’s a playlist: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLko9fiFcKQ05lK_hHMrTy790lh4LIwDLp

[lovemesomesurveys]

[created by: vyvyan86]

Do you or have you ever owned a cup with your name on it? I do.

What's the most expensive crafts tool that you own? The only kinda pricy art related items I have are my sets of Prismacolor colored pencils.

Have you ever woven baskets of any kind (wicker, paper, cardboard etc.)? No.

How do you like Great Balls of Fire by Jerry Lee Lewis? I mean, it’s catchy. 

Speaking of Jerry Lee Lewis, have you seen the biopic about him? Nope.

How about the biopic about Tina Turner? No.

Do you like the TV-show Frasier? I never got into it.

What's something you know by heart? A lot of things, but uhh let’s go with song lyric to a lot of songs.

What is something you're greedy about? Hm. Sleep. It’s never enough.

How valuable does a coin have to be for you to bother to pick it up? I might if it’s a quarter. 

What would be something you would wait in line to get for free? I’m really impatient, so it’d have to be something pretty good. Or a short/good spot in line.

Has there ever been a leak anywhere in your house? Yeah, under our dishwasher.

Have you ever slipped in the shower? No, thankfully.

Have you ever made any decorative crafts? If so, are they displayed? I’ve attempted stuff in the past, but no I don’t have anything I’ve done displayed.

Is it very humid where you are right now? No.

What is the most suggestive thing someone has said to you? There’s been a lot of instances like that. 

Do you have friends who you playfully flirt with? Not anymore.

Doesn't the Z in the Bzoink logo look like an L to you, too? I’m not familiar with the logo.

Did you ever take that 5000 question survey that was circulating Tumblr? Yeah, most of it. I’m actually almost done; I should just bite the bullet and finish it already it.

Have you ever had to change a zipper in your favorite article of clothing? I’ve never attempted to.

Do you prefer buttons or zippers in general? Zippers.

Did your grandma have a box full of pretty buttons? Aw, this reminds me of the tin of cookies she had that actually had like sewing supplies and other random stuff inside instead of cookies. The disappointment was very real every time I found one of those cookie-less tins around the house, haha. 

What's the most exotic spice in your spice rack? I don’t think we have any exotic spices.

Do buttons tempt you to press them? Nah. I’d worry about what it was for.

Do you have a favorite television host? I like Ryan Seacrest.

What's your opinion on celebrity chefs? I don’t have much of an opinion about them.

Back when it first started, did you watch ANTM? Yeah, I’ve watched several seasons. I watched the newest ones a few years ago with Rita Ora and then when Tyra came back as well.

Did you know, that there was even a Finnish version of ANTM? I’m not surprised.

Are you accident prone? Kinda.

Have you ever broken something really valuable? Yes.

What do you see as timeless? My favorite songs from various decades.

What is something that you own, that has sentimental value? All my giraffe stuffed animals.

Have you ever had your own website? I’ve made simple ones back in the day that you could make for free. What's something that you finished recently? A bowl of ramen.

What's the smallest town you recall visiting? This random town in California that my grandparents randomly decided to stay at one year when they came to visit. They found an RV park there and I guess the price was reasonable, but the town itself was very small and out in the middle of nowhere. 

What's the longest distance you've had to go to work or school? Every school I attended, including the community college and UC I went to,  was local and close by.

Would you learn a new language, if you didn't share one with your lover? Yeah.

Do you have friends who are constantly tagging you in challenges on FB? No.

When it comes to chocolate, do you prefer nougat, jelly or caramel filling? I’m not a big fan of filling in my chocolate.

Are you more concerned about winning than just participating? No.

Has somebody you know taken their own life? Some former classmates and acquaintances. 

Do you prefer onions, leeks or chives? Chives.

What's the most adult thing you have to do every day? Hm. There isn’t really an “adult thing” that I have to do everyday. 

What's the most immature thing you like to do every day? Uhh. I don’t know. I wouldn’t really describe the things I like to do everyday as “immature.”

Have you seen the movie, Clue? If so, isn't it fab? I think I’ve seen parts of it.

Do your cheeks get flushed easily? Yes.

Are there any social cues you miss entirely? I think I understand social cues pretty well.

When someone doesn't smile back at you, what's your first thought? Maybe they’re just focused on something else and deep in thought. *shrug*

Is there a person who melts your heart just by looking at you? My doggo. 

Have you ever had tom kha kai? I don’t know what that is.

Have you, or anyone you know ever been rude to a server? I haven’t, but yes I’ve known people who have been. I feel so bad when people treat servers, retail workers, etc badly. People can be just be so damn rude.

What's something you're opinionated and very vocal about? I tend to keep a lot to myself and not speak up much about things.  ^When's the last time you had to verbally defend your stance? Hmm.

Have you ever played BitLife? Nope.

What's something you regularly order online? Clothes.

Do you often make friends online? I used to.

Do people ever try to get something from somebody through you? Not generally, but yeah it has happened before.

What do you think when you see a couple holding hands? I don’t really think much about it.

Is there anything you're forced to share with someone else? My living space? I’m perfectly fine with that. I love living with my family.

What's something stripy that you own? My Adidas stuff with their signature 3 stripes.

How about something polka dotted? I don’t think I have anything with polkadots. 

What is something you find absolutely appalling? Abuse.

Do you like elevators? Not especially, but I don’t have a choice since I can’t take the stairs. 

What's the first thing that comes to mind when I say "midnight madness"? Uhhh.

When you're angry, does it ever get physical? Never.

What do you do, when you're immensely happy? What’s that feel like?

What made you scream out loud the last time you screamed? A big ass spider.

Can you hear your neighbors through the wall? Sometimes we can hear the pipes, like when they use the shower.

What is something that frustrates you to no end? Myself and my health issues.

Do you wear shoes indoors? No.

Who is your favorite stand-up comedian? I don’t have one. My aunt has been showing me some videos from her favorite comedian, Brian Regan, though. He’s pretty funny.

What's the weirdest video YouTube has suggested to you? There’s been many.

What's the funniest infomercial you've seen? Those ones that seem so overdramatic and exaggerated.

Is there a drink that just goes right through you? Water.

Is there a food item you can't eat because it doesn't agree with you? Dairy and spicy food.

Do you playfully compete with someone about something? When playing board games or Mario Kart.

Would you rather swim or run? Neither, please.

Do you like the smell of tar? Ew, no.

Have you ever been to a sauna? No, that sounds absolutely awful no thank you.

Does your doorbell ring unexpectedly often? No.

Is your favorite fictional character a human, an animal or something else? My favorite fictional characters are mostly humans, but some are super humans (superheroes), robots, and other types of creatures.

Have you ever helped a stranger? If so, what did you do? Yeah, like giving money.

Do you share hobbies with any of your friends? What do you do together? My family and I have our favorite shows we like to watch together.

Do you have any flags on display? If so, what flag(s)? I have a huge Swedish flag on my wall.