#once all queued my posts should go up to this coming friday! <3

[dangaer]

cannot stop thinking about the subtle intimacy of hand holding.

[craniumhurricane]

call me, baby, if you need a friend

Cleaning up some old WIPs. This has been in my drafts since end of season 2/around season 3.

Basically 4 times Clarke calls Bellamy and 1 time that Bellamy calls Clarke.

Thank you @casleyislove and @sushigirlali for always reading things before I post them!

[ On AO3! ]

___

(i)

It's a quiet night in at the Blake apartment. Or, at least, for Bellamy it is. He's having a nice Friday night by himself after surviving a truly grueling week of finals. Octavia tried to convince him to go out and celebrate the end of the semester the "right way," but he turned her down… he's still not quite sure how he managed to do that.

His feet are currently propped up on the coffee table with a large bowl of store brand cocoa puffs in his lap. Bellamy may be an adult but damn if he isn’t going to celebrate the end of the term with sugary cereal… nevermind that he didn’t actually make time to grocery shop this week. The TV was queued and ready for the marathon of Ancient Aliens episodes he’d missed due to studying, and he was just about to press play when he hears a short but insistent buzzing sound.  

Glancing around, his eyes land on Octavia’s phone sitting on the corner of the coffee table. She must have left it in her hurry to leave since she was running late to meet up with her boyfriend.

Bellamy keeps his eyes on it for a second before deciding to ignore it, and once again his finger hovers over the play button on the remote. Then the phone lights up again, this time with a phone call; a picture of Octavia and a curly haired blonde that he recognizes, the name CLARKE THE GRIFFIN flashing across the screen. He considers ignoring it for a second time but... if she’s resorting to actually calling instead of texting again then something could be seriously wrong.

Bellamy swipes his thumb across the screen to answer and brings the phone to his ear but before he can even say anything a voice on the other side interjects immediately.

“Men are dicks,” the woman says without preamble. “No! Worse than that. They're weird tumors that grow on dicks," she pauses, seems to think about it, and then adds, "Preferably life threatening.”

Bellamy blinks a few times before he answers, “I'm sure you're right, but don't you think that's a bit harsh?”

The line is quiet. He can hear her shifting the phone, no doubt checking the screen to make sure she called the right person.

“Octavia?”

“Bellamy.”

Clarke huffs. “Where's Octavia?” she snaps. He can hear the annoyance seeping into her tone, which in turn just makes him feel his own frustrations start to rise.

He tamps it down though. “On a date,” he answers.

She deflates at that, “Oh right. One month anniversary with Lincoln.”

He hums a confirmation and then they’re silent for a few minutes. So long that it’s Bellamy’s turn to look at the phone and make sure she’s still there. “Did you need something?” he asks once he sees that the call is still, in fact, in progress.

She takes a deep breath before answering, “I ended things with Finn tonight.”

Bellamy had only met Finn Collins a handful of times; the guy was fine except for a little cocky… and he always seemed to want to show off in front of pretty girls. His hair was too long and always styled like he was some kind of frat boy that came from big money even though Bellamy's 100% sure he never so much as pledged.

And then there was that one time he flirted with Octavia.

Ok, so Bellamy didn’t like the guy. But a break up is still a shitty thing to go through which is why he says, “I’m sorry,” and finds that he means it.

“Not your fault,” Clarke says immediately, “But I was kind of looking for someone to watch me binge drink and listen to me vent.”

He understands that, having gone through the same thing when he broke up with Roma at the start of the term. If you could really call them “hooking up occasionally” the same thing as dating, but still, getting drunk with Miller had been essential in the whole moving on process.

“You want to come over here anyway?” he offers carefully, casually. He doesn’t mind Clarke. She’s younger than him, around Octavia’s age. They aren’t exactly friends, but he would consider them a little more than acquaintances. Enough that it shouldn’t be too weird for him to invite her over even without his sister present. Plus, her getting drunk here is a better alternative than her getting drunk by herself in some bar.

“You don’t mind?” she asks and he thinks he hears relief in her voice, “I was kind of already on my way over to your guy’s place... I don’t really feel like going out and I really don't feel like being depressed and alone in my dorm right now.”

“Nah,” he says and then tries a joke to brighten her spirits, “Sounds like something fun to watch. I’ll order food.”

“Chinese would be great,” and he swears he can hear a smile in her voice so he’ll count his dumb joke as a victory. “Thanks, Bellamy, see you soon.”

He's not even a little bit mad about dumping out his now soggy cereal.

*

(ii)

“So, you’ve been in school for basically forever. Is it normal for a person to experience this amount of stress?”

Bellamy’s lips twitch as he holds his phone to his ear. After Clarke crashed his Friday night in, and spilled on the whole cheating Finn debacle while they did shots, Bellamy figured he should give her his own cell phone number. As much as he hated to admit it, and honestly he never will, his sister and her boyfriend were getting serious, so who knows how much Octavia would be available for late night bitchfests about significant others, fellow students, and the human population in general. Which were just a few of the topics they discussed that night. Hanging out with Clarke ended up being kind of fun, a better night than he originally planned. She even let him watch a little of his marathon and offered her own commentary. Bellamy would do it again… which is something else he would never admit.

It's not like they suddenly talk every day, but it’s a near thing. They would send each other the occasional text when one of them sees something that the other absolutely has to know about. Mostly, he gets pictures of old dogs she sees at the park, asking if this will be him in 20 years. Bellamy responds in kind with memes about college life and rubbing it in her face that they no longer apply to him since he graduated last semester.

But sometimes she reaches out to him if there is something particularly bothering her. Such as dealing with egotistical dickwads that consider themselves professors and shutting down female students in a male dominated class.

Clarke’s probably the only person that ever calls him and can never start the conversation with a simple ‘Hello’. Actually, she’s probably the only person that actually still calls him.

“I just got a job teaching so that insult isn't going to work anymore since I literally will be in a school as part of my job,” is his first response before he turns to one of concern, “Midterms got ya down?”

“It’s just,” she gives an exasperated sigh before continuing, “I want to do something that helps people, I know I want to help people… But maybe I don't want to help people the way my mom wants me to help people...ya know?”

“You’re going to have to give me more to go on here, Princess-”

“I’m thinking about switching my major,” she says abruptly, like she’s ripping off a band aid.

He’s silent, waiting to see if she’s going to say anything else. When it becomes clear she’s waiting for him to say something he responds honestly, “If being a doctor isn’t something you want to do, then you shouldn’t do it.”

“But-”

“What your mom wants you to do shouldn’t overrule what you want to do, Clarke,” he interrupts her. Due to the increasing amount of time he’s been spending with Clarke, he’s learned that the Griffins have always had a capital “P” Plan and he knows that Clarke has a hard time knowing when she can push the boundaries of said Plan.

She’s silent again and Bellamy’s starting to think he’s going to have to prod her a second time. He’s got the beginnings of his big speech all prepared when finally she speaks up. “I’m thinking about going into Art Therapy,” She says thoughtfully, “Or maybe teaching? Helping out underprivileged kids...or hell, even underprivileged adults. Or maybe something for the community?”

His lips twitch on another smile at hearing the beginnings of a hint of passion in her voice. “Teaching can be very rewarding,” he says magnanimously.

She snorts and it turns into a full laugh, “You haven't even started yet! It could be the worst thing you’ve ever done and a total waste of your degree.”

“Your confidence in me really is touching,” he deadpans and then adds simply, “You’re an amazing artist, Clarke. I think doing something with that could be something you'd enjoy and be really really good at.”

She’s quiet when she asks, “You think I’m amazing? You’ve never told me that.” And Bellamy swears he can hear that smile in her voice again. The one he always looks forward to. The one he tries to coax out of her without realizing he’s doing it.

He feels his cheeks start to heat up and even though she can't see him, he feels the need to brush it off. “Yeah, well, I generally try to be as dickish as possible so…”

She snorts again and damn if he didn’t feel a slight flutter in his chest.

“For the record, I think you’re going to be an amazing teacher,” she says it so matter-of-factly but he’ll have to dwell on it later because she sobers and then asks softly, “So, you think I should do it?”

It’s not hard for him to build her up. She spends so much time being there for the rest of their slowly merging friend groups that she rarely takes time to see the greatness in herself. He doesn’t mind helping.

“I think you should do whatever the hell you want.”

*

(iii)

“Women are worse than men.”

Bellamy rubs the sleep from his eyes and glances at the clock; it was almost 3 in the morning. “I thought men were tumors?” he asks around a yawn.

“Yeah, well, women can be tumors too,” Clarke huffs, but she just sounds tired, “Comparing people to tumors is equal opportunity. Strides in feminism are being made, didn’t you know?”

Bellamy pushes himself into a sitting position, suddenly more alert as he picks up the trace of tears in her voice. “You ok?” he asks.

Clarke is silent at first, but he waits her out, he knows that she’ll tell him. “Lexa broke up with me,” she says quietly and then adds in confusion, “Or we broke up with each other? I’m a little unsure. We spent the whole night arguing and then suddenly she was packing up her stuff.” She pauses before taking a shaky breath, “It’s over. We’re over.”

“I’m so sorry, Clarke.”

“She was leaving anyway,” she continues, bitterly, “Some new job. She was leaving in a few weeks and didn’t even bother to tell me. I told her we could make it work long distance, I was willing to try and make it work. That’s when the arguing started. Not just about that but about-,” Clarke abruptly cuts herself off and hesitates, “about... other things. Things I didn’t even know were an issue.” She’s quiet again before she adds, “She didn’t say it but I think she was disappointed that I never suggested going with her...”

The thought makes a quick flash of irritation run through him. “She wanted you to uproot your entire life and go with her,” he summarizes as he tries to adjust the pillows on his bed by beating them, maybe a little too roughly at the thought of her doing just that, before leaning back against them.

“Which is completely crazy, I know,” she hurries to say, “but I wish we could have talked about it.”

“I am sorry, Clarke,” he says again, “I know Lexa seemed like she was it for you.”

“But maybe she wasn’t?” Clarke counters as if trying to reason with herself. “I don’t know. We were both committed to each other, but maybe this was a sign that we weren’t going to be able to make it work long term?” She pauses and Bellamy can hear the gears in her head turning as she processes a way for her to handle this, too explain it to herself. “When we were together,” she hesitates before continuing, and he can imagine her biting her lip, “I was happy... but I felt like a separate version of myself, ya know? Still me, but not completely me?”

Bellamy chews on the words he wants to say and goes with, “Sometimes the person you're with can change you; it's not always a bad thing.” He gets quiet as he adds thoughtfully, “I like to think Gina made me a better person...and she probably did,” he pauses, this time unsure if he should keep going, but Clarke hasn't said anything, so she must be waiting for him to continue, “We tried, tried really hard, to make it work, but eventually you just realize that maybe the relationship isn't going anywhere and what’s best for everyone is just to call it.”

“Wait, you and Gina broke up?” Clarke asks in surprise, “When did that happen!?”

“That's what you got from that?” He rubs a hand over his face as he thinks about it, “About two weeks ago?”

“Shit,” she says and is quiet before asking in a small voice, “Why didn't you tell me?”

“Honestly, I haven't seen a whole lot of you these last few months,” he hears what he said and corrects himself, “We haven’t seen a whole lot of you.” He’s surprised at his ability to keep the bite out of his voice; because the truth was this last year has sucked since Clarke started dating Lexa.

They met at one of Clarke's art gigs. Lexa was cool; fun when she wanted to be, but also a little hard to be around. Most of the time, she seemed to prefer doing things without any of Clarke’s friends.

“I’m sorry,” Clarke says.

“It’s fine,” he answers her and means it. “Gina and I are still good friends.”

“I wasn’t talking about you and Gina,” she says, voice soft.

He realizes what she’s actually apologizing for and he doesn’t know what to say. Because of course he forgives her, he will always forgive her.

The silence lasts too long so he clears his throat and prompts, “Want to come over and get drunk?”

Her laugh through the phone breaks the tension, “It’s like 3 o'clock in the morning.”

“My bar is always open.”

She chuckles. “I really want to hit something,” she says with a determined edge to her voice, “Then maybe get drunk.”

“How about this, we get a few more hours of sleep, wake up at a normal time, and go hit something,” he offers and then adds as if it's an afterthought, “And then get drunk, of course.”

She laughs again, “Oh, of course.” There’s that smile. “I forgot what being single with you was like.”

Bellamy sobers at the thought. It has been awhile since the two of them were single at the same time. “Always here to help, Princess.”

*

(iv)

“Why did I agree to this trip again?”

He’s packing up the essays that are scattered across his desk when she calls, 4 o’clock on the dot. Bellamy tries to suppress a laugh but he’s pretty sure she can at least hear the teasing smile in his voice.

“Just getting back to the hotel?” he asks in lieu of his own greeting.

“Yes!” she exclaims in exasperation. “And if it were up to Josephine, we probably would have walked all of damn Paris tonight,” her voice gets muffled at the end and he can only assume she’s thrown herself face first onto the nearest bed. “I cannot wait for a shower- No! A bath, definitely taking a long, hot bath.”

And now the image of Clarke Griffin in the bath, with just enough bubbles to cover up to her chest, has entered his mind. He shoves it away before anymore thoughts can accompany it.

This used to never be a problem. Sure, he’s always known that Clarke is attractive, but he has never been attracted to her. But ever since he broke up with Gina and she broke up with Lexa, Bellamy has been exceedingly aware of the fact that they have both remained single.

The last time this happened was right after Finn.

Bellamy shakes his head for good measure before responding. “You’re going to fall asleep in the tub and your roommate will find your prune-y, wrinkled body in the morning.” He cringes.  Apparently he wasn’t able to get the image of her completely out of his head.

Clarke scoffs, but he can tell that it’s in an exasperated but fond kind of way. “How is it that you manage to be a buzzkill from over 4,000 miles away?” she asks drily and then pauses before adding, “Actually, Josie would probably just leave me in there for the entire trip and never let on that something was up.”

He turns the key to lock his office behind him and heads for the staff lot. “Don’t worry, if you don’t call to check in, I’ll call the National Guard,” he teases.

“I know you would,” she says simply, like it’s a known fact.

Things have been a little weird after he became aware that they were both single. Mostly because, he’s pretty sure that Clarke has also come to realize it. When he turns to look at her, he often finds her already looking. Their innocent touches are now more frequent and linger just a bit longer.

Bellamy has come to realize that he doesn’t want to be single and the reason he doesn’t want to be single is because he wants his best friend to not be single with him.

There’s just never a right time to tell her.

“So, what did you do today?” he asks.

Despite the exhaustion and jetlag that’s surly setting in, Clarke jumps into an animated retelling of the flight and arriving at their hotel room just in time to change clothes and head back out to walk the streets of Paris to get their bearings before their tours officially start tomorrow.

“I’m a little disappointed that we’re doing the Louvre first thing tomorrow. I was hoping to be a little more alert for that.”

“Your coffee addiction hasn’t stopped just because you’re in another country,” he points out as he gets in his car.

She laughs, “Jeez, you are such an ass.”

He starts the car but doesn’t leave just yet; afraid the long distance call will drop out.

“What are you doing now?” he asks into the comfortable silence.

“Admiring the view,” she admits softly. “It really is gorgeous all lit up. Makes me want to dig out my sketchbook.”

“You have a week, Princess,” he chuckles. “Don’t screw up your jetlag even more by losing track of time in your drawings on the first night.”

She’s quiet again before confessing softer somehow, “It also makes me wish you were here.”

His heart clenches in his chest and he wills himself to sound normal. “Maybe next time,” he tries for teasing but it comes out almost wistful.

“Next time, hmmm?” Clarke hums. “You’d come to Paris with me?” And he’s sure she’s flirting with him.

“Well, maybe not for our first date,” he says, “But maybe, like, our fifth or something.”

Clarke’s quiet for a long time and he’s afraid he’s overstepped, misread the room. He’s about to take it back, play it off as a joke when she finally speaks.

“And what would a first date look like?” she asks with what he thinks is hope in her voice.

He swallows a couple of times. “Well,” he starts, “Since you’re already getting some of the best museum experiences, I’d probably settle for dinner and a movie. Something cheesy that’s playing at the dollar theater; where we’re the only ones there and can yell at the screen.”

She chuckles and his heart flutters, “We already do that, Bell. Quite frequently, actually.”

“Yeah, but if it’s a date then I’d get to kiss you at the end of it.”

“What? No making out during the movie?” she asks and he can picture how cute her face gets when she pouts.

A grin spreads across his face and he’s grateful no one can see how goofy he must look.

“We’ll have to make sure it’s a really bad movie.”

*

(+i)

Clarke rubs some moisturizer on her face before capping the tube and tossing it into her bag on the bed. After ensuring that everything she’s going to need for tomorrow is packed, she zips it up and grabs one of Bellamy’s hoodies to slip on over her clothes.

Ever since he picked her up from the airport when she got back from her trip to Paris, and she ran directly into his arms, giving the other people waiting quite a show, there always seems to be one laying around, waiting for her to find it. She assumes that he gets as much of a thrill out of her wearing them as she does.

She heads down the stairs of their townhouse, passing various pictures and artwork, and shoots Raven one more text not to forget to bring her dress to the venue tomorrow. She’s supposed to help her get ready in the morning along with her mother. In the meantime, Abby has sent a car to pick her up and take her to the hotel. Easier to get ready if she’s already there for the stylist… something else her mother insisted on paying for. No matter how many times Clarke told her she didn’t care what her hair looked like because she was marrying the love of her life.

Clarke locks up the house and greets the driver, slipping into the backseat. She intends to spend the ride lost in thought, going through the checklists that were running through her head.

Their engagement had been on the short side but she didn’t mind. They were both ready to get on with this next chapter in their lives.

Her phone is resting loosely in her hand, face down on her knee, when it starts to vibrate with an incoming call. She holds her breath for a second, praying it isn’t the florist or the caterers. But when she sees the photo of her and Bellamy from New Year’s flash on the screen, she can’t help but smile.

She taps the button and greets him with a sultry, “Hi, handsome.”

“Hey,” he says and she can tell he has a soft smile on his face, the one just for her. “You just leave the house?”

“Yep. On my way to the hotel now, so hopefully you haven’t forgotten anything because it’s too late now.”

“The most important thing is already on its way,” he responds with a teasing lilt.

Clarke can’t help the sharp laugh that escapes her lips, “Oh my god! You are such a sap!”

“I was referring to the ring, obviously, Princess.”

“Oh, obviously,” she says, mock serious.

They chuckle to themselves for a few minutes and she honestly can’t tell if the driver is rolling his eyes or thinks they’re being cute from hearing one side of the conversation.

Bellamy sobers up first only to let out a groan. “I hate whose ever idea this is,” he whines.

“Aren’t you the history professor? Shouldn’t you know where common traditions and such come from?”

He scoffs, “No, I mean I hate whichever of our friends is making us do this.”

The two of them haven’t seen each other since yesterday morning, him having been spirited off by his groomsmen while she was left to spend last night alone in their bed. And now they’re meant to go one more night without seeing each other.

To Bellamy’s point, Clarke isn’t altogether sure why this is a tradition anymore, nor why they are choosing to follow this particular one. She and Bellamy aren’t even that superstitious! And yet somehow they were talked into spending the days leading up to their wedding apart.

“Ah,” she answers him now, “That would be Raven and Miller. Although, I’m pretty sure it had nothing to do with marriage traditions and has everything to do with getting back at us for making out in front of them so much.”

Bellamy scoffs again, “Well, jokes on them, because after tomorrow, I don’t ever have to stop kissing you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she says, “We’ll have to come up to eat at some point.”

The driver pulls up under the awning of the hotel and Clarke gets out and grabs her bag before he’s able to get out and grab it for her. She gives him a wave and a simple thank you before heading through the sliding doors.

“How’s your room?” she asks into the phone as she bypasses the check in desk, her mother having already checked her in and given her the key card to her room this morning when they were getting their nails done.

He heaves a deep sigh. “Lonely,” he answers as she steps into the elevator. From what Clarke knows from his texts, Miller dropped him off here last night and left him to his own devices. Apparently, the best man gets to sleep next to his husband but Bellamy wasn’t allowed to sleep next to his soon-to-be wife.

She makes a split second decision and presses a different button, jolting the elevator to stop sooner than intended. When she steps off she casually offers, “I could help with that.”

“Oh yeah?” He chuckles. “You going to describe for me what you’re wearing?”

“Hmm,” she hums as if she’s considering it. “I could do that… but I was more thinking that I could show you.”

Clarke stops in front of a door and gives it a nice rhythmic knock.

She doesn’t have to wait long before it’s opening and Bellamy is standing in front of her with his phone against his ear and a huge grin on his face.

She lowers her own phone from her ear, pressing the end button without looking.

“Hi, handsome,” she manages before he’s pulling her into his room.

[marrymeleoxxiu]

YSL Valentine’s Day

BamBam x Noona Reader 

Fluff / Slow Burn / Angst

Everyone can read. 

I started stressing about Valentine’s Day on perhaps February 5th, the Friday after my newborn nephew was born. I was getting notifications about gifts for him on every email, pin-terest, places I visit online and I was thinking to myself, “Why not try to get him something.” I started window shopping around online that very day and during the weekend that followed. I spent some time on my couch in the living room around my parents, doing just this. I feel like I should spoil him with something extra special, like a YSL Men’s perfume because I won’t be with him on this day. 

 I decided on a whim to look up his favorite brand of YSL on an easily accessible store to me. I brought it up with my mom that week, that I wanted to get my brother and father something too. After pestering her about it for a full day, she said in a week we will go get them their gifts; Never happened due to other things happening and daily life getting in the way.  

 ----Time Skip----  (Messaging him)

But now that it's Valentine’s day In South Korea, on February 13th, I decided to send him a direct message just letting him know he’s on my mind today and that I wish him a Happy Valentine’s day. I kind of also share my thoughts to him on other topics involving him sharing more so I feel more involved in the relationship; not expecting a reply back. But he responds with a “Happy Valentine’s Day.” It makes me sincerely smile and my heart gently does a backflip. His girlfriend, me, confesses to him in a private message, “That you are all I need on this day and that I wish we could actually go on a date. That would be great.” But I understand how busy he is. Again, not expecting anything back. He or a friend posts an image of him and Jae-Beom.  I respond to it and then carry about my day, with my man and one and only on my mind. Once again, not expecting anything. I message a friend or two, feeling an extra dose of pining for him on this day.

 ----Time Skip----

I open canva after a while of internet activities with friends and decide during a lull of communication from everyone; to make something. The idea was graphics for BamBam and my tumblr blog; they are soon queued  and or sent directly to his direct messages in the moment after it’s been saved. I don’t hear from him for very many, many hours later. I’m sitting in my room looking at our chat, hoping to hear from him soon. Nothing comes in. I feel guilty and sad that I couldn’t get him the YSL perfume that I wanted to get him. I know it’s because he’s busy as an Idol for GOT7, and going through a process of change in his business life. Which I wholeheartedly support. But it still bothers me and makes me even more sad that he has not appreciated my gift. But then surprisingly enough a message comes in from BamBam saying “Yeah, I’m outside your house~! Happy Valentine’s Day~!”

My eyes go wide at the message, but I push myself quickly off my bed, barefooted and rush outside to greet him. Once outside, I try to get to him as quickly as I can, but he’s standing right outside my door. Our bodies full on collide into each other. I wrap my arms tightly around him. I am shocked and have no words whatsoever. My heart is beating a million miles an hour. He separates our bodies from the deep hug for a moment to bend down and kiss me right then and there, gently. I respond back with my own kiss. But I make my lips linger on his for a good minute. He then breaks the kiss and looks at me. 

“Wow, so cute and yet you really weren’t expecting me.”

 I blush and stutter my response. “Bammie, It is late. Y-you really shouldn’t have, but I’m so damn happy you’re finally here~! I-I love you s-so much~!” I feel so nervous and yet excited.  

He looks at me from head to toe. I’m wearing a blueish grey and pink leopard oversized sleep shirt and red and pink heart leggings. He pulls me towards him for another hug and I really don’t want to let go of him. 

“Are you going to let me in?” He asks. 

“Of course hunny~” I mutter gently against his chest. “I need to get you settled in, on the couch or my bed.” I wink at him, flirting. 

“Whichever one you’re parents will allow. I’m sure your mom is still awake. It’s going to be fun to meet her,” 

“Maybe we can get you in without a fuss. My dad wakes early also just like me.”

 At that, I grab his hand and bring him inside and close and lock the door. 

 To Be Continued?

@kpopandvarieties​ Special thanks to Miss. Jenna for helping me for several hours on this. Fangirling along side me on google docs, totally acting a fool together. <3 I am so happy to have a friend like you.

@galacticbammie​ Just tagging you so you see this. <3

@key201303​ Tagging you too for same reason to view it. <3

[escapingreality1992]

Secret Pen Pals Ch. 3

Steve’s POV

 This current week, I ended up busier than I ever thought possible. More boring debriefings that ended up giving me more opportunities to doodle aimlessly a mission came up in the middle of the week, excitement swelling within me. As I battled with the team, one thought decided to pop in my head; Keira’s birthday is on Saturday. Not much of a thought but enough of one to distract me. I took a direct hit to my jaw, making me stumble back a few paces.

           Get it together, Rogers, I thought as I shook my head, stars in my vision for a few moments. I managed to push the random thought to the back burner and got to work in order to defeat our enemies. Landing a few punches on the man – humanoid – in front of me to stun it. I delivered a final blow to completely incapacitate him; the team, which consisted of Nat, Tony, Bruce, Bucky and Wanda detained the otherworldly creatures that showed up a few days ago to take us out. We got the tip from Stephen Strange, who opted to sit this battle out, figuring we could handle it on our own without assistance from him

           The Avengers, I mean when I say us. I noticed Natasha shoot me a worried look and she walked over to where I stood.

           “What happened earlier? You don’t usually let the enemy get one on you. Is there something on your mind?” she greeted me.

           “No. You know I can’t always counter-attack hits all the time. I guess he – it – saw an opening and took it,” I answered. It wasn’t a lie; sometimes we can’t avoid hits from enemies, but I still wished the thought didn’t appear during a time when I’m trying to thwart enemy attacks on the planet. The other thing is I still didn’t want anyone to know of the correspondence to Keira. Maybe it was a bit selfish, keeping her to myself, but I wasn’t certain if anything would transpire between us.

           The relationship we shared was still new. There could be a possibility we could grow tires of each other and end communication all together. I feared it. My preferred choice would be to eventually meet and maybe develop our friendship into something further.

           “Are you sure? You can talk to me, you know. Or Bucky. If it’s something serious we could help,” she commented.

           “I appreciate it. It’s nothing. Really. Should I need your help, I’ll come running, I promise,” She nodded and the six of us returned to the jet and headed home.

             Deciding to shower, I stripped out of my combat suit in the privacy of my room, starting up the shower in the bathroom; I chose not to wait for the water to warm up and quickly cleansed my body of all the sweat and dirt acquired during the short battle. This process took about 15 minutes; I stepped out, shutting off the shower, wrapping a towel around my waist. Striding into the bedroom, I made a plan to send out my next letter and the gift I bought for Keira’s birthday. First, I needed to see about getting the gift wrapped; I had bought her a gold bangle bracelet with a charm of a dog on it, a German Shepherd specifically.

           I didn’t know if the breed was a favorite of her, but I thought it fitting for her. I sighed, laying it out in front of me while sitting at my desk and opened the smaller bag, which contained another charm; one custom made, tiny star shaped shield. I mentally debated about attaching it to the bracelet; Did I want to reveal my alter identity now? How would she take it? Does she already know? The final question lingered in my head, something I hadn’t thought about since the first letter. The second letter had only intensified the idea that she had no clue who I really am, but I still wondered if she was hiding that fact away from me.

           Stop it. Trust your instincts. Keira doesn’t know you’re Captain America, I thought. Sliding the star shield back in the silk bag I kept it in, I placed it back in the secret box and closed the drawer. Opening another drawer on the left side of my desk, I pulled out a small roll of wrapping paper and the jewelry box I had purchased in the shop the same day I got my suit. I carefully wrapped the gift and set it aside to start penning my next letter to Keira.

           My plans to drop off the letter and the gift were delayed by another meeting, which lasted around two hours, putting the time past when most post offices closed for the day. Not only that, but everyone wanted to go out for drinks and dinner and by the time we returned home, I had completely exhausted myself, going to bed once we returned from our outing.

   Keira’s POV

           My week started how it always began; with a client and dogs. Well, dog in this case. Instead of the usual week with two dogs, this time it happened to be one and only for three days, the remaining four, I’d spend alone, the excepting being my birthday on Saturday; or so I thought. The client this time – Clyde Andrews; the dog, a black lab named Landon. He arrived at 11 a.m. instead of the usual 10 a.m. and appeared to be in a hurry, dropping off Landon and shoving a check in my hand before turning on his heel towards the exit. The price for watching Landon – 2000 dollars. Not bad, though it was 500 more than my asking price.

           “What shall we do today? Be couch potatoes? Go swimming? Sleep? Hmm…couch potatoes, you say? Sounds good to me,” I asked aloud, noting the excitement of Landon at the words ‘couch potatoes’. I closed the door to my apartment, unleashing him and we headed for the large couch in the living room. I queued up Netflix and most of the day was spent watching and re-watching romantic comedies; we ate lunch and dinner during breaks of taking Landon out and a random nap that took place around 3 p.m. Around midnight, we retired for the night, disappointment awaiting me tomorrow evening.

             A cold nose nudged me around 8 a.m. followed by a whine alerting me to the presence of Landon. I rolled over to meet two dark brown eyes staring at me and a tongue, which Landon decided to lick me with.

           “Ugh! Alright, I’m getting up. Then we will be going back to sleep when get back inside okay?” I stated, shifting out from under the warm sheets. Landon ran around in circles while I pulled on a thick sweatshirt and my tennis shoes over the fuzzy socks I wore to bed. At my door, I leashed him, and we walked out in the chilly air of New York. I walked him around for a few minutes, returning to the warmth of the apartment once he did his business. My request of going back to sleep was fulfilled when Landon hopped onto the bed, curling up near me when I slid under the covers.

              I awoke a few hours later, lunchtime fast approaching; I made a sandwich, feeding Landon a cup of dog food while we watched a baking show on Netflix. Cleaning up, I decided to head to grocery store to pick up something to cook for dinner as well as a few other items for the next couple of days. As I unloaded the bags, my phone rang; the caller ID shown as my mom. I answered it, putting away cans of beans in the pantry for chili Friday night.

           “Hey, Mom. Are you and Dad still planning on coming up Saturday?” I greeted her.

           “That’s why I’m calling. Unfortunately, work has caught up to us and we no longer have enough time to see you,” she answered. My fingers paused on the next can of chili beans, my heart dropping to my stomach.

           “Oh,” I managed, struggling to keep sadness out of my voice.

           “We’re sorry. Maybe we can do something next weekend? Next Sunday perhaps?”

           “No, I understand. Next Sunday is fine with me,”

           “Okay. Love you honey,”

           “Love you too, Mom,” I hung up and resumed putting way the rest of the groceries. So, my parents couldn’t make it. Well, at least I’d still have my friends. Right?

 Steve’s POV            Wednesday came around and I panicked some trying to get Keira’s package to her. Though I tried not showing it during the dull meeting that went on in the morning. Tried is the keyword here. I drummed my fingers on the table, my foot tapping continuously underneath as my patience weakened each minute passing by as Tony continued talking. Finally, after two hours of endless babble, Tony wrapped things up, ending my torment, my impatience.

           Bolting from my seat, I headed out of the conference room and grabbed the package from my room and almost sprinted to the entrance.

           “Steve? Everything okay?” Bruce asked as I passed him in the lounge.

           “Yeah, fine. Excuse me,” I answered, leaving the compound and entering the garage to ride my motorcycle into town to drop off my gift to Keira.

             At the post office, a line delayed me even more, going slower than I imagined and I prayed that I’d get the gift out in time for her birthday. Once it got to be my turn, I got everything set up and handed off both the letter and jewelry box to be placed in a medium box that would ship out today.

           “It’ll get there Saturday afternoon. Is that alright?” the female clerk asked. Relief flooded through me as I nodded, paying and hoped Keira would like her birthday present.

  Keira’s POV – Saturday

           Landon left Thursday night, leaving me to busy myself with other tasks like paying bills and going for walks. It wasn’t like I got too busy, but the depression I felt with my parents not coming up started to grab at my thoughts, squeezing them relentlessly.

           I hadn’t even bothered to go through the mail or write to Steve. Believe me, I wanted to write to him, but I didn’t want to burden him with more complaints. The only thing keeping me from curling up with blankets and breaking down was the thought my friends were still coming out with me tonight. At the moment, I let my emotions out in the form of cleaning around my apartment. Imagine my excitement at the sound of a ping coming my phone; The message was from Charlotte.

           ‘Can’t come out tonight. Tasked with closing,’ My excitement deflated like a balloon, but I still had hope. It quickly disappeared when the next two messages from Lena and Jana followed, which both read ‘Can’t come out,’ Jana, being a nurse, got called in for a shift at the hospital. Lena, however, decided to go out on a date with a guy she met at work. The balloon of hope popped with a loud bang, leaving a huge mess in its wake. I shut off the vacuum and packed it up in the closet, coming to a final decision about plans for the night.

           One thing I hate is when people cancel plans at the last minute, but this moment hit me hard, emotions running around in my head like a chicken with its head cut off. The disappointment surged through my veins, tears threatening to pour of my eye sockets like waterfalls. Pull it together. Don’t let it affect you, I thought to myself, sniffing up the snot wanting to drip out of my nose.

           Changing into clothes I deemed appropriate for the store, I went out and picked up a bottle of red wine, a large cake, and ingredients for spaghetti, returning home to spend my birthday alone. While feasting, I allowed my emotions to stew, building them up more as I stored leftovers in the fridge and cleaned up. Somehow, I ended up standing in my living room staring at the cake on the coffee table. Releasing a deep sigh, I ventured to my room to grab my portable Bluetooth speaker, turning it on and placing it next to the cake.

           I found a song – fast-paced, something I could dance to – and expelled everything I felt; anger, sadness, loneliness and poured another glass of wine. Someone, meaning me, was getting drunk tonight. I planned on having my cake as well.

  Sunday Morning

           An alarm I forgot I set woke me; the blaring sound did nothing for the terrible headache I had.

           “Oh, damn,” I grumbled, images of what happened last night returning to mind. Hangovers never looked good on me. Groaning, I shut off the alarm and got out of bed. Bed. When did I get in the bed? Oh great, it was one of those black-out drunk nights, I thought. Stumbled is more like what I did, and I clung to the nightstand, regaining my balance and attempted to head to the bathroom. My feet collided with a box sitting nearby and I nearly fell but managed to right myself.

           Thankfully, I made it there before I heaved up chunks of cake, last night’s wine and the meal I ate before losing control. Nausea passed and I sat on the cold tile floor for a few minutes, not moving until certain round two wouldn’t rear its head. Standing up, I filled up a small paper cup of water and took two Advil from the container I kept in my medicine cabinet in the bathroom. Making my way back into the bedroom, I leaned down to see what I kicked, discovering the package I overlooked when checking the mail Saturday afternoon. I gasped when I noticed the name on the shipping label. Opening the box with scissors found on my nightstand from a knitting project a few nights ago, I emptied the contents onto my lap.

           The letter I expected, the small box I had not, so I unsealed the envelope first, excited to read Steve’s words.

             Keira,

Happy birthday! I’m technically writing this a few days before the actual day, but I hope you’re not reading it on the very day. Your last letter warmed my heart and I love the Polaroids you sent.

           They immediately brought a smile to my lips. The blankets are gorgeous and appeared to give me a sense of coziness without even being there. All I wanted to do was to bury myself underneath them and read a book. The bookshelves are impressive with the amount you’ve managed to fill them with. They gave me a thrill finding out you’re a book lover as well.

           Anyway, back to your birthday and the gift I’ve sent along with this letter. I hope you’re having a good one, celebrating with your friends and family. Maybe you’re down in North Carolina with them or perhaps they came to New York.

              “They left me alone, actually,” I mumbled, stretching out on my stomach, my feet hanging in the air. I palmed the wrapped box, sliding a digit under the paper and tape, removing the paper entirely. I uncapped the box, tears brimming in my eyes at the item inside, continuing reading the letter.

             In the box you will find a golden bracelet with a German Shepherd charm (it was the only one the jewelry shop had) on it. It’s nothing much, but it made me think of you. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to wear it of course.

           As to the other matter, please don’t be afraid to write about anything to me. I don’t mind. Complain to me. Rant to me. Release anything that’s on your mind. This isn’t silly, it’s romantic, even fun. I happen to think it could bring two strangers together in a way no one could ever begin to understand.

             Forgive me. I’m also a romantic at heart and if this pen pal event brings love to two people, it would give me absolute joy. It may not be us but at least I’ve got this new friendship with you. I hope I’m not out of line when I tell you your friends seem jealous. Of you, of this. There’s a possibility they’re missing out on something great, something exciting, something…new. They also might even seek out fault in others to feel better about their own selves.

             I’d like to suggest a book recommendation. You can choose to read it or not. You may like it depending on if you love horror novels or Halloween. The Haunting of Hill House. I don’t want to give you the synopsis, afraid I’ll give away too much. I’m hoping the name alone will make you curious.

           I’m glad I can bring you comfort and a sense of calm. I have to admit I’m always expecting another letter from you. I keep checking the mailbox for your words, to hear more about you and your life. I feel a need to read your words, to see your exquisite mind on paper. You bring me a sense of comfort I’ve not experienced in a while. I find I’m able to relax more when reading your letters.

           Happy birthday once more.

Patiently waiting for you,

Steve

              Tears of joy poured from eyes as I finished reading the letter, my fingers toying with the bracelet. I folded up the sheets of paper, sticking them carefully back in the envelope. Picking up the bangle, I adjusted it for my wrist, the cool metal resting on the inside of it. He remembered my birthday, I thought. I knew I had told him in the last letter about it, but I didn’t tell him the date. Perhaps he had figured the date out given the timing of it being sent out. I didn’t expect Steve to send me anything for it though.

           Smiling, I got up and decided to grab a burger to help cure this hangover; leftovers be damned, greasy food is the way to go. I had also made the decision to bring along the notebook I’d been using to write to Steve and began constructing a ‘thank you’ for the gift along with some other things that were on my mind.

             After lunch and finishing up my own letter, I made a stop at a blue postal box since I knew the post offices weren’t open on Sundays. Returning to the apartment, I pulled out the cake I somehow managed to put in the fridge despite having a “fun” night. I cut a slice of it and put it on a paper plate, sitting down to watch TV as I ate. While eating, my thoughts drifted to Steve and I began to think I was starting to crush on the man behind the words.

  Three Days Later

Steve’s POV            “Steve! You’ve got a letter! Steve! Where are you?” Natasha called out. Currently, I was in the training room building up strength and releasing some pent-up energy; boxing with the punching bag helped clear up thoughts when I felt I couldn’t talk to anyone. I chose not to send Keira another letter, though I wanted to; I patiently waited for her new one, which might have been in Natasha’s hands at this very moment.

           Natasha. Oh no, I thought, half running, half walking out to the lounge to get the letter. Please, don’t open it, I pleaded silently, rounding the corner where I met the red head standing by the couches.

           “Oh, there you are. Here’s your letter. I thought it might be important,” she greeted me, handing the unsealed letter to me.

           “Thank you. I’ll be in my room is you need me,” I told her, clutching the letter in my hands. I turned, expecting no response from Nat…until she spoke, shattering hope of no comments about it.

           “Who’s Keira, Steve?” I froze, realizing I needed to give an answer.

           “No one. A new acquaintance, maybe,” I stated, trying not to wince at the words that escaped my mouth. Keira meant more to me than I thought; I didn’t really want my friends to find out about her yet. I needed more time to write to her and eventually meet her to decide if and when I’d like her to meet them all. No need to give any more information than what I’ve already provided. I refused to meet Nat’s gaze, knowing she’d have an eyebrow raised, questionable doubt at the answer.

           If I met her gaze, I’d spill everything, and I wanted this relationship to be a secret for now; until I felt ready to tell them.

           “If you say so,” she responded, letting the subject go without pressing me further. I released a sigh and ventured to the seclusion of my chambers, locking the door restricting any others to barge in if they needed something. They would have to knock to get my attention. I unsealed the envelope, sitting on my bed and started reading.

              Steve,

Thank you for the gift. It’s lovely and it’ll now become something I’ll be wearing all of the time. I can’t believe you remembered my birthday but I’m glad you did. It brought me joy and tears. Don’t be worried. They were tears of joy. As to how I spent it. Well, I spent it alone.

             It wasn’t too bad though. My friends forgot about it, going out or working additional shifts instead. My parents got caught up in work and couldn’t come up. I understood, of course, but it didn’t make me feel any happier. I let my emotions build up and then proceeded to get drunk and dance around the apartment. That’s what happens when you get a bottle of wine and cake. It’s didn’t really help matters because now I’m suffering from a hangover.

           I resolved it by going out for a burger with French fries and a fried egg squeezed in the bun. Not the fries, just the egg. The fries were on the side. I’m thinking about returning home to have cake and veg out on the couch watching movies. At lease my parents planned to visit next Sunday, but I haven’t gotten words from my friends. It’s fine, nothing to really worry or stress out about. I didn’t know what to expect from my outburst at the luncheon with them the other day.

             She spent her birthday alone. I wish I could’ve been there to celebrate with her, I thought, a twinge of sadness hitting me as I read those words. My friends managed to remember my birthday and there was always a party thrown by Tony or sometimes a quiet dinner arranged with our small group.

             The only thing is I wished we had already met. Maybe we could have done something between the two of us. Thank you for allowing me to tell you anything I want. It’s been a long time since I felt I could be myself. Most times I mask my true self from others afraid of what they’d think of me. Writing to you frees me from the cage I’m trapped in. It allows me to express myself in ways I never thought possible.

           I’ll have to check out that book recommendation. You’re right, the name alone sounds intriguing enough for me to pick up and read. Fall is the perfect time to delve into something creepy. Per your request for a creation of mine, I don’t mind making one for you. I make ones for strangers sometimes. Of course, I don’t think ‘strangers’ applies to us anymore. I think we’re beginning to become friends. In your next letter send me your favorite colors and I’ll get to working on it then.

           Here’s a list of favorites since you kindly asked:

Movie – The Longest Ride, but I also love Hereditary, which is horror movie (my favorite genre)

Season – Fall because sweater weather, boot season. More importantly, the beautiful scenery as the leaves change colors.

Color – Green, especially dark green. It looks really pretty on me.

Musical – RENT. The music, the story, everything. Highly recommend if you haven’t seen it.

 Ideal date? A dinner and a movie maybe, however, I’m also the type that would enjoy a day trip to the beach and spend time in the sun.

 Ideal day? Coffee, tea, hot chocolate. Bundled up with a book. Rainy day. Some furry companions to keep me company or someone to cuddle with. Maybe you – sorry. You’ve been on my mind today. We still don’t know too much about each other and haven’t met. Silly me.

             My breath hitched at the comment about me. No, no. She’s right. You hardly know each other. Be happy with the friendship, I thought. It didn’t stop me from wondering what it’d be like to…

             Memory? A beach trip where my parents and I did nothing for a week except swim and read. Relaxing for a while. We took the dog (I used to live with them and technically had a pet German Shepherd. I don’t have a pet of my own here) and he swam in the pool, enjoying life. Newt is his name. He’s 7 now. That’s the first. The second is…receiving your first letter.

 Music – Country, Pop. I’m not too picky. I’m not a fan of rap.

 This is all I can think of at the moment. I might slip in some more in the next letters or so. We’ll see. In need of a hug still. Provide me comfort instead?

Keira

              A wide, goofy grin spread across my lips. I found out more about her and the longing flared up, hot in my chest. I tried to smother it, not wanting to fall for her this fast. The problem is once she awakened it with her words, there was no way to stop its burning. I folded up the paper and stored it away from prying eyes, unlocking my door. I exited my room to join my friends for lunch. How could it be possible for me to feel this way in a short amount of time? The other question lingering in my thoughts had me pondering if I should let these feelings consume me entirely.

[arbitrarygreay]

Morning Musume in NYC 2018, Friday

In the wee morning hours, I took the various trains to my hotel, and the walk from the nearest station to the hotel was a miserable affair, slogging through the slush on the sidewalk as rain poured down and the wind blew in what seemed like every direction at once, with my arms and hands in awkward positions, as I had to handle an umbrella, luggage, and a cane all at once. I met up with my friend at the hotel around 7AM, and we checked in our luggage (which cost money, because NYC), and had a discussion that, surely, no one would be mad enough to queue in this weather this early. The con had even issued an email saying that no one should queue until 9, due to the weather. I decided to scout out Javits, though, because I knew that wota gonna wot, meaning queuing stupid early no matter what. Sure enough, there was a nice line already growing at the convention center, so we joined the line around 7:30. This still put us in a good position, within the first 15-20 of the Mega line. We got to talking with a girl from Texas, and it became fairly clear that mosmt of the early queuers were MM fans, though though there were a few fans of the other artists. During all this time, rain and wind waxed and waned, so sometimes it wasn't too bad, and other times there was a bad chill. Friday did not get off to a good start, for setting impressions of Anime NYC. We had a cramped schedule, as the MM autograph session and the concert guests panel were nearly back-to-back, and then our press interview with MM was scheduled almost right before the autograph session, and all of that was almost right after doors would open. So it was going to be critical that we got into the doors to get our autograph tickets ASAP, or we might lose the window to get our press credentials and hold the interview. Well, doors opened significantly late. And then they had the Mega holders sit in line for the autograph tickets for about half an hour until all Mega and General attendees had been admitted and General had picked up their badges and then gotten in line for autograph tickets, so they could have a guy orally tell us the rules for tickets just one time (even though obviously people would show up after he did so). This meant we nervously watched the clock tick by and they refused to let us get autograph tickets for no good reason (just post the rules right by the table! It was all already in the con app, website, and booklet anyways!), getting ever closer to the time were we would just have to forfeit getting autograph tickets or forfeit the interview. Finally, they let the ticket gathering begin, and it's a damned good thing we queued early, as we grabbed our tickets and sprinted to the press office with just minutes to spare. Our fellow press members, who had waited until 8 or so to queue, did indeed arrive a few minutes late, though the guest staff handling us for the interview was extremely gracious to allow the delay. Apparently, the complaints about this nonsense were so noticeable that the con issued an apology that night and said that they would be changing their procedure for the autograph ticket queuing for the next day. So that shows that they do take feedback, which is much more promising. We were informed that we would only be interviewing a subset of the group, as they were rotating members amongst the various press outlets. And then we did our interview, and it was pretty magical. Will link the result when it comes out. UFA retained editorial power over anything we'll publish, as usual. But one of the things that happened was that my friend was wearing a 12th gen FC shirt, which Chel honed in on and gushed over a bit. My friend and I then rushed to prep for the autograph session: getting into cosplay. She went as Yokoyan in Minmin Rock n Roll, complete with pinning printouts of the cartoon cicadas from the MV all over. There are pics of her on Twitter! Originally, I was going to match her as an improbably tall Funaki, but then the Furari Ginza MV came out, and I just knew that I had to take advantage of the timeliness to be dapper!Dii. Unfortunately, having to change from "camp in miserable weather" clothes to cosplay clothes in the half hour between the interview and the autograph session meant that we couldn't bag-check, and couldn't get through the merch line, either. I ended up having the girls sign a Houston shirt. My friend, though, stole the session just about, by having the girls sign some musical photobooks. As the line was in seniority order, she started by explaining to each girl that they had signed the Lilium photobook last time (in Houston), but she wanted to finish it out with Dii's signature, so in the mean time, they could sign this year's Snefuru book instead. And not only did every girl recognize my friend's cosplay (many even starting to sing the Minmikimikimikimiki intro lol), they just lost it every time at the photobook pic of baby!KSS!Lilium!Dii. It was great. Chel also had a moment of "wait, you were wearing a 12th gen shirt before???" and my friend reassured her that she was still wearing it under the safari shirt. The girls did recognize my cosplay as well, but I didn't have much to say to them, to my regret. I did ask Chel if she watches any American TV, and she said she had watched Spongebob just that morning. And I got Sakura to do the Furari Ginza dab with me. Talking to everyone else about the autograph session, it appears that the girls (and management) were surprisingly accommodating, and most of us had really great interactions with them. Unfortunately, this meant that the line moved slowly, and they ended up running out of time, and some people with tickets could not get an autograph. Ultimately, I feel that I would have been okay with going down the line faster, so that more people would get their time with the girls, so I hope the managers keep stricter track of time in the future. From there, we spent some time with the merch (they were selling the new single, fall tour T-shirts and towels, a NYC exclusive photoset, and member key holders), before queuing for the panel. We were early enough to get within the first 3 rows, and I sussed out from looking at the chair setup on which side that MM was going to sit, so we were very very close to the girls for the panel, and I feel like the girls recognized us. Plus, an audience member brought their baby on our side, so the girls kept looking over in our area. I liked most of the decisions the con took with the panel. A moderator (an ANN writer) asking her own questions, and then selecting from a shortlist of questions submitted by audience members earlier. In the first rounds, she asked the same question of each guest (picking a single member from MM to answer each time). When MM introduced themselves, they each gave their names, and then their favorite anime. Maachan said "My favorite anime is Disney Channel," L O L. Later, a non-MM fan said that they had mass respect for the girl who said Re: Zero was their favorite, as most of the other picks were mainstream rather than late-night stuff. Shokotan really showed why she's a fan favorite, being so very enthusiastic and earnest with every answer, fully engaging the audience and sweeping them up into her energy. More importantly, she and Harunan professed their love for each other as fellow otaku. None for you, Dii. Eripon talked about how, in contrast to the other guests, this wasn't their first time in NYC. But they were still surprised by the snow, lol. She also noted that MM doesn't really have anisongs, even though this concert was Anisong World Matsuri, lol. Ayumi talked about what we should expect at the live, and especially pointed out the fist raise gesture she wanted us to do for not-Furari-Ginza. Maria talked about what makes the Colorful lineup unique within MM's history, and she said that it was about the hot energy of their lives. Hagababy talked about the hardest bit of dancing she had to learn, which was how to do turns properly. And SOMEHOW they didn't let Chel talk. What. Maachan was heavily jetlagged. And despite not getting to answer a question, she still stole a few great moments, besides the above meme-worth introduction. At one point, when they were passing the mic from Ayumi to Maria, the cord got in her face and she let out a cute squeak. Later, when the panel was discussing how Kageyama had been in the industry for decades, he mentioned that he first joined a band 40 years ago, and Maa started trying to count on her fingers what year/decade that would be, and Sakura was like "just stop that, that's embarassing," lol. One thing that tainted the panel, though, was that all of the translators weren't great. Lots of answers were really clearly truncated, missing half of the material or more, and a few were outright bungled, giving the opposite of what the guests had said. Bleh. And that concluded the MM activities for the day! We browsed the dealer's hall a bit, including picking up some Lady Kaga onsen flyers, and taking pictures in our cosplays with the big MM picture set up there. I was just beyond pooped and sleep deprived at that point, so after having a mid-afternoon dinner, we retired to the hotel.

[fandomflail]

title: Recognition (6/8)

rating: M

summary: Soulmate trope AU. Set in a world where humans and elves coexist.

a/n: *screams at Tumblr* I queued this for Friday 10 pm but the queue at my post! Sorry for the delay, you guys. 

Past Chapters: (1)  (2)  (3)  (4)  (5) or AO3

RECOGNITION CHAPTER 6

Killian Aearinön had lived a life of strife, despite being Noble born. Of course, his older and wiser brother, William Beriothien, would often comment that said strife was a result of his own actions and self-recrimination. Liam, as Killian called him, wasn’t wrong.

“What was the instruction?” his brother asked, brow furrowed with worry.

Liam worried too much. Between his bride, Elsa Arendelle, and Liam’s own tendency for anxiety and worry, it was a wonder the two functioned at all. Unlike the humans, who suffered more from physical maladies than psychological ones, elves were far, far more susceptible to injuries of the brain.

If they weren’t dying of childbirth, Killian mused, they were running Nightlock into their blood for a quick death.

“Killian!”

Giving his brother his focus, Killian said, “For her own safety, I delivered the instruction as The Sukrasa said. Remain human to those who know her as human, reveal her as an elf to society, with the story that she was simply living in secret. No mention of halves.”

Liam strode closer, blue-grey eyes delivering a piercing gaze. “And she can be trusted?”

Killian felt his temper rise. “Of course she can!”

“You don’t actually know her, brother. A consummation does not a soulmate make,” he said, pacing the length of the mahogany table that stood as the centerpiece.

“I know enough to know she can be trusted. As can the other three.”

“You have no idea what sort of danger you’ll unleash if word gets out, I mean it, Killian. This is serious. For once, please take this seriously.”

“I know that! I’m not a youngling, Liam. Stop treating me like one.”

“Perhaps if you —“ his brother cut himself off, swallowing whatever insulting thing he had been about to say, and said instead, “I am glad you’re back to high society. Things have changed, and they have not. You’ve lived with humans for a total of what? 150 years now? You’ve adopted some of their…mannerisms, and not in a flattering way.”

“Yes, like when people annoy them, they tell them to bugger off.”

“Now that’s just rude.”

Killian flipped him an obscene human hand motion.

“You’ve been tight-lipped about this Emma. If she’s a lost child, her parents are sure to be looking for her.”

He nodded, drumming his fingers on the table. “I checked; there was no missing report of an elven girl matching her age or appearance.”

“Hmm. Come to think of it, that makes sense. If she’s a hybrid, they’d have wanted it kept hush. Plus, she’s Nysnian; it’s not like those elves have ever trusted us.”

“I don’t know if she even wants to find them. This whole thing has been overwhelming for her; she’s been using the ignore-it-until-it-goes-away strategy. With her heritage, with me.”

Killian was unsuccessful in keeping the bitterness out of his voice. He dropped his gaze to the little decorative windmill on the table, spinning its blades to distract himself.

“Well, she’s still coming later, isn’t she? That’s a start.”

“Only to the Embassy. I don’t want her meeting the serpent. Who knows what she’d say to her. Wait does she even know that I Recognized…”

“Stop calling her that. Of course she does. It’s just within the family, you’re safe.”

“That’s a relief, though who knows who she’s hissssssssed to.”

“Oh shut up. Just so you know, I’ll be there.”

“What???”

“Oh yes, you really think I’d miss meeting your soulmate? My little brother’s Recognized half?” Liam’s smirk was unbearable, his posture so casual he could only be faking it.

“You’re the worst elf in the history of elves, I hope you know.”

“Stop being dramatic. I invited Belle, to make Emma and her son feel comfortable. Belle is the human equivalent of a library, and she is Head of the B.E.A.S.T. I can truly think of no one else as perfect to fill in the blanks about our culture.”

“This was supposed to be a quiet tea,” Killian huffed.

Liam shook his head, no doubt judging Killian as a child, despite the fact that their age gap was a mere 10 years. A single petal difference in a forest bloom, but to hear Liam tell it, one would think Killian was an infant human, and Liam a wise old sage. It was maddening.

“Do you think this could work?” Liam asked after pouring himself a cup of fresh honey tea.

His perpetually concerned face was soft, curly blonde hair kept in place by the ice-inspired circlet he often wore to honor Elsa. Maddening though he may be, Liam was the best brother an elf could ask for. The look on his face mirrored the look he had when Killian had fallen out of a tree, breaking his bones in three places; as if this whole endeavor was the same sort of dangerous recklessness he’d exhibited as a youngling.

“I believe so. I chose to live as a human for Milah. I loved her. I always will. But Emma, Emma is different. This is different.”

“Killian…I’m sorry to suggest this but… do you suppose this thing with Emma is simply a matter of chemistry, rather than a matter of heart?”

There was an almost visceral need to defend his feelings, an anger so swift he could’ve wrung his hands around his brother’s neck. He fought the impulse, forcing himself to truly consider his brother’s question. After all, he had, in those early hours, had the same questions.

It felt like a betrayal to confess his heart, especially about the first few hours following his introduction with soulmate, but this was Liam. Who could he truly trust, if not him?

“I hated it, at first. She ran, twice that day. She made it clear that her actions were the effect of the Recognition, and not for any real desire to know me. She didn’t seem as affected as I did. I thought…I thought maybe I hallucinated it.”

“You checked with The Sukrasa,” Liam reminded him.

“I know. But a half-elf? That’s a myth and propaganda people like Her Highness, Snake Queen Consort, tell to fear-monger elves about the Bad Things That Happen When We Mix With Humans.”

“Killian,” Liam warned, tone infused with a world of warning. He ignored the rebuke about their step-mother.

“You know that’s what she thinks, even if she isn’t forthright about it. Anyway, it was highly possible that they had mixed her blood and Henry’s. Full or half elf, I thought I was going crazy, except it’s impossible to ignore that feeling.”

“What was it like?”

“I told you, remember, when you said we should just put the Trace on her and be done with it.”

“Actually, what you told me was, and I quote, I’m dying Liam, I’m dying. Hardly descriptive.”

Killian rolled his eyes, moving to swipe his brother’s mug for a sip.

“It’s a burning sensation, like the skin under your skin is on fire. You can’t scratch it. Your throat feels like you’ve been screaming for years, but no amount of water quenches it.”

Liam watched him with wide eyes. For the first time, Killian felt like he was being taken seriously. Figured.

“There’s a ringing in your ears, like you’ve stood next to a gong after it’s gone off. And the worst thing is… well, you can relieve yourself as much as you want, but it hurts. The humans have a term for it, though I’m not sure why they use the color blue to describe it. Nor do I think they understand what exactly, it means for one to have ‘Blue Balls’”.

“Oh. I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

“Yes, well.”

“So you can be happy with her? And her human child?”

“It would be too easy to fall in love with Emma Swan, Liam. Just wait till you meet her.”

“Sure, can’t wait.”

Killian ignored the slight sarcasm. His brother was a damn worrier.

* * *

Emma eyed the silver pears, Asiménia, a delicacy of the Nobles. While she usually, genuinely, enjoyed elvish food, this was awful. She did her best to school her expression, but she knew she was kidding no one.

Henry, through sheer teenage obstinacy, was scarfing down his food as though he liked the taste. No doubt, she thought wryly, because Gracie seemed to be genuinely enjoying it.

Across from her, Killian’s ears twitched in effort to choke down his laughter.

“So Emma,” Prince Liam said, lips tilted upwards in a smug smile, “how do you like the food?”

“It’s…” she said, grappling for the right word and coming up short, “interesting. Different from the ones served during the ball.”

“Oh yes,” Prince Liam said, while Killian glared at his brother, “this is a family delicacy. We’ve never had a Nysnian elf who has ever taken to it.”

“Oh, oh my, are you Nysnian, Emma?” Belle pipped up excitedly from her seat next to Henry.

Henry and Belle seemed to get on like a house on fire, going through hundreds of years of world history in the span of the few hours they had talked.

“Yes?” she replied, unsure why this was an issue. Her gaze landed on Killian, suddenly feeling like maybe this was a thing about herself she should know.

“Oh. I see it now, you have that dent in your chin and everything,” Belle said, craning her head to study Emma.

She squirmed under everyone’s attention, bringing another spoonful of Asiménia to her mouth, only to instantly regret it.

Elsa, the quiet blonde next to Liam, laughed. She had barely spoken to any of them, so Emma was a little surprised to find such open emotion from the elf.

“Truth be told, Asiménia is truly an acquired taste, don’t feel bad, Emma,” Elsa said.

“And it apparently tastes like this berry in Nysno, Marjaga, which is poisonous. Maybe that’s just your genetics that makes you dislike it,” Belle said, the petite human a seemingly endless sprout of knowledge.

“Belle,” Gracie cut in, seated primly across Henry and in-between Killian and her father, “will you tutor me in history?”

Jefferson’s head snapped up to his daughter, who was ignoring him in favor of staring down Belle.

Belle lit up like a Yule lantern, eyes rounding wide as Henry interjected “Me too!” and then remembering his manners, added on softly, “Please.”

“Of course. Oh, it would be such an honor. I would love the opportunity to hear you recite poetry as you did earlier. And sing. You have such a gift for it.”

“Thank you,” Gracie said with a smile, preening under the praise.

* * *

It was decided that they would stay for dinner, so the party adjourned to the study to continue their discussions.

Killian looked to be completely taken by Gracie.

His eyes kept darting to Emma, and she wondered if he was musing the same thing as her. Had it taken? She was in no ways prepared to be a mother, not like this, but watching Killian interact with the blonde haired, green-eyed elf child made picturing a future too easy.

She wasn’t even sure if she wanted it. Having to deal with a situation like that would drive her into a panic. But until then, she figured she could allow herself to indulge in a little daydream.

Killian was seated on the lush carpet on the floor resting lightly by her knees, while Emma sat on the couch. She was tempted to run her fingers through his hair, but managed to stay the impulse. Next to him, Belle, Henry and Gracie made up the rest of the circle on the floor, while the other adults had left for something or other.

Despite her initial anxiety, and Prince Liam’s somewhat cool response to her, the day had been nice. In fact, seated where she was, Emma was feeling particularly content.

While Belle and Killian took turns to regale the children with tales of history and famous adventurous elves and humans, Emma found herself only half-listening.

The content wasn’t boring. On the contrary, she was learning a great deal about elves, but her full stomach and calm proximity to Killian made her rather sleepy.  They had her full attention, however, when Henry asked why elves who were hundreds of years old looked like humans of 30 years.

“We develop slowly, lad,” Killian said, gesturing with his hand for Belle to interject with the prolix answer they all knew she had.

“You see, elvish biochemistry is very different from ours. Hormones are created slowly, the mechanisms more complex, the telomeres longer, much longer than ours.”

It was clear she was losing Henry, who hadn’t quite reached that chapter in school, but Belle continued, “They age pretty fast as younglings, which is why Gracie and you seem to be growing up at the same rate, but once she hits about 30, everything slows down. It’s also why parent-child relationships don’t have the same dynamic as human ones.”

“Aye,” Killian said, rubbing his jaw, “that’s true. You see, you could technically have a child at 30, but because both you and your child have an average lifespan of 800 years, you’re pretty much peers. But say, you have a child when you’re 350, and well, that’s a more similar human parent-child dynamic.”

“What if you Recognize when one person is 300 and the other is 30?” Henry asked.

Emma felt her face flame. Adopted though he may be, he was just as blunt and sly as she was.

Both Belle and Killian flushed, clearly under no pretense as to why the question was asked. `

“I’ll leave this one to you,” Belle said, looking at Killian, while Gracie giggled.

“Uh… um… well. Recognition is different. It’s two souls meeting as one. You will learn from each other of course, but as long as you respect each other, like any other healthy relationship, there should be no problem.”

“Good answer,” Henry praised, making Killian blush red.

“Henry!” Emma hissed.

Suddenly, she was struck with a thought of what he’d just said.

“Oh my god,” Emma gasped, as the realization hit her.

All of them turned as one to look at her.

“What is it, Emma?”

Heart beating rapidly in horror, she asked, “How long do elves have periods for? Because I’m not going to lie, I was looking forward to menopause. Now you’re saying I have to go through this torture for hundreds of years?”

“Oh ewww, mum, come on!”

“It’s part of life, Henry, I told you that,” she told her son distractedly as her gaze remained on Killian.

“Yeah, but that’s for when I’m like older. I don’t need to know that now.”

“Don’t even talk to me about you getting old,” she warned. Henry shut his mouth abruptly, no doubt remembering her breakdown about her outliving him still fresh in his mind from the week before.

Killian looked flustered, so it was Gracie who answered.

“We’ve evolved not to need that, actually.”

“ELVES DON’T HAVE PERIODS?!” Emma shrieked indignantly.

“I mean, we do,” Gracie corrected, brow furrowing, “it’s just, it’s not the same. You bleed once every 3 to 5 years, until you hit about 250. Then the body sets itself into what is called Henig Amatúlië. It’s basic epigenetics. And Recognition can trigger it later on. Like an on and off switch.”

“What she said,” Killian mumbled.

With an eyebrow arched, Gracie asked, “How do you not know this, Your Highness?”

“Just Killian, lass. And I do. I mean, not in as much detail as you do, of course.”

“Okay, can we change the topic now, please?” Henry begged.

Emma met Gracie’s gaze, the young elf rolling her eyes as if to say, men, no matter the species, all the same. Belle laughed, clearly entertained, as she diverted the conversation into some random fact.

* * *

Emma excused herself to freshen up a little while before dinner, only to be followed by Killian just as she reached the day room for guests.

“You’ve made it hard for me to get you alone,” he said, closing the door with a soft click.

“I was doing no such thing.”

“You’re simultaneously an enigma and an open book, my love,” he said.

Killian had a habit of dropping saccharine endearments into their conversations, and she didn’t know how seriously to take him. While it was hard to stop the warmth that stirred in her belly every time he used one on her, she told herself that perhaps, it was simply how he spoke, and did it to everyone. So she ignored it.

“How so?” she challenged.

“Our messages have gotten a little brazen, wouldn’t you say? Yet here you stand before me, skittish as a doe. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re only brave to admit to your desire when you have a distance.”

“Wow, that’s reaching, don’t you think?”

“Hardly, Swan,” he scoffed, “I think it’s right on the mark. You’re scared of me, scared I’ll let you down.”

“Just what the hell have you been speaking about with my son?”

“I didn’t have to ask Henry any of this to know it, Emma. Give me some credit. I didn’t pry.”

“You think you know me so well then? What about you?”

“What about me?”

She paused, considering him. Somewhere during their conversation, they had moved closer. It was like a disease, a constant pull towards him whenever they occupied the same space. She wanted, when he was nearby.

And while he seemed to read her easily, she couldn’t quite figure him out. That in itself, was scary. He was unpredictable, an unknown entity that already had too much hold on her heart. An elf who understood her and had ingrained himself in her family. He was too much.

“I’d say you’re scared too. I just don’t know what about.”

He shrugged, slowly bringing his hands to grasp hers.

“Well, if we’re going to be scared anyway, doesn’t make sense to do it alone, yes?”

“Killian…”

“Why are you making this so hard, Emma?”

She bit her lip, eyes roving across his face as she considered how truthful to be. He was beautiful, that was easy to see, but throughout the weeks, he had proven to be everything she had ever looked for in a man. Elf. Man. Same thing.

Sure, there were inklings of a temper and jealousy that she could see there, and perhaps he was more reserved and secretive than she was, but he had shown himself to be kind, considerate, funny and above all, had taken a genuine interest in her life and Henry’s.

He had gotten lunch delivered to her when she had complained about having to work over her break hour due to Ashley’s mess up; had tutored Henry on math via hologram the day before an exam; made her smile by sharing articles and pictures of cute animals with silly captions throughout the day; in short, he had stuck around, with no pressure for more, as promised.

He kept promises. She hoped that was true. She wanted to believe that.

“How would this even work?”

“How do you mean?”

“You’re an elf prince. You live in a royal place in Irska.”

“Actually,” he cut in, “I live in Alamané. In a penthouse overlooking the river. I write music and paint, and I sometimes sell those paintings.”

“Your brother hates me.”

“What? No. Liam is wary of you, but he is wary of everything.”

“No, pretty sure he doesn’t think I’m good enough for you.”

“Emma,” Killian said, looking at her in concern, “I’m not sure what the idiot did to give such an impression, but I promise you that is not it. Liam’s issues are with my choices, not you. If he hated you, he wouldn’t have launched an inquiry about your parents.”

She pulled her hands away from his.

“He did what?!”

Killian looked like he deeply regretted revealing that. Emma glared at him.

“The Sukrasa are… they are the guardians of the elves. Everyone has a file. Since that first night, they’ve been building yours. Liam looked at it. I didn’t. Told him he was overstepping.”

“Fucking right that’s overstepping,” she growled, crossing her arms.

“Yes, well, he’s got a different idea on what constitutes as help. Liam is big on family. It’s why he tolerates the mad witch.”

“The mad witch?”

“Father’s consort, of course.”

“Of course,” she echoed sardonically.

“Liam may know a fact or two, but he doesn’t know the stories. Besides, I have a feeling you’ll get on with Elsa.”

“She seems rather frosty.”

“She’s the nicest. Too nice for my idiot brother, honestly. She just takes a little time to warm up.”

“Did they Recognize too?” she asked, uncrossing her arms.

“No. They chose each other.”

“What happens if they Recognize with someone else?”

“They still have the choice to keep choosing each other. Besides, elves aren’t nearly as prudish as humans. We’re a polyamorous species, which makes sense when you think about how long we live.”

“I don’t share,” Emma said, the words rushing out of her mouth before she could stop them.

“Good,” he said, taking the passion behind her words as an invitation to step into her space, “because neither do I.”

Emma gulped, suddenly feeling short of breath. Killian kissed her forehead, lips lingering between her brows as he breathed her in.

“Are we doing this, then?” he whispered, arms coming around her to caress her sides.

“I…I just… I’ve got to do something first.”

He sighed, pulling back. “Fine, but don’t tell me you’re not avoiding this, us, me.”

He looked as if he was fighting his frustration, biting his lip and shifting his foot.

It shouldn’t have been, but was, terribly endearing. Running on instinct, Emma leaned in, going for a kiss.

Killian’s reaction was instantaneous; his lips parted, deepening the kiss, derailing the chaste peck she had been aiming for. She indulged in it for a moment, breathing him in, before pulling back.

“Be patient, Killian.”

“Sure, what’s another 300 years?” he muttered. His cheeks were a ruddy red.

“Killian?”

“Yes?”

“Liam’s enquiry…did…”

“No. Not yet. If there is, I’ll let you know.”

She placed another quick, tender kiss on his cheek and then turned and walked to the water-closet, shutting the door firmly behind her.

She heard a faint murmuring, not being able to catch his words, as she washed her face and took in her own flushed complexion.

You’ve played yourself, Swan.

* * *

In hindsight, staying for dinner had been them, overstaying their welcome. They’d barely finished the hors d’oeuvres when the Sukrasa announced Her Highness, Queen Consort Coraline was to be joining them.

The easy flow of the room vanished instantaneously, as Liam, Elsa and Killian sat up straight as if a tree branch had been inserted down their spines. Jefferson, who generally stayed away from elvish politics, looked discomforted by the prospect of the queen joining the table.

Gracie and Henry, clearly neither oblivious nor stupid, picked up on the change of demeanor of the adults and quietened down. Emma could think of no good reason why the queen would join them for a simple occasion of tea and dinner.

Beside her, Killian gripped her wrist. Emma had given up resisting him while she was in his presence, the need to connect and touch too strong to ignore for the sake of pride. They’d been discreetly hand-holding under the table for a while now, though neither had said a word about it.

The doors opened, and everyone stood. Killian dropped his hands from hers abruptly, as an elf in a blood red ballgown with dark hair in an up-do practically glided into the room.

Aside from the fact that she was over-dressed for the occasion, there was a sense of superiority about her that set Emma’s teeth on edge.

“Really, Killian, I must find out from the help that you’re hosting a dinner with someone who could potentially be joining the family?”

Her voice was clear and sharp, and despite the concern in her tone, Emma could tell it was more a reprimand than a desire to be included. She didn’t care about his response as her eyes zeroed in on Emma, who despite wearing an elvish-style dress, felt like she had been judged and came up lacking.

“Well, she’s pretty, at least. Small mercies. What is your name?” the queen demanded.

“Emma,” she answered, matching the no-nonsense tone.

The queen made a tsk. “I hear you’ve lived as a human your whole life, what a pity. But that’s no excuse for lack of propriety, my dear. I suppose we’ll have to see to your lessons about elvish court.”

She heard Liam cough, and saw Killian’s ears flush red.

“I think you’re putting the cart before the horse, Your Highness,” she said, looking the woman in the eye. “We’re here to honor Gracie, after all.”

“Yes, there’s really no need to be inundating the Lady Swan, is there, Queen-Consort?”

Clearly irritated by the title, her eyes flashed to Killian. She moved to the head of the table, sitting down and beckoning them to do the same.

“I told you, son,” she replied, tone saccharine sweet, “no need for such titles when you could call me mother.”

“Not a damn chance, thanks, Your Highness,” Killian answered with a smile.

God, this was exhausting. Killian, with teeth still bared at his step-mother, turned to Gracie.

“Gracie love, I present to you Her Highness, Queen Consort Cora. You should tell her all about your assignment about human-elf integration, I’m sure she would love to hear it. You and Henry make a great research team.”

Emma wondered who she ought to kill first - the Queen, if she made a disparaging remark about her son, or Killian, for bringing attention to him. It was sure to be a fun dinner.

* * *

It wasn’t a fun dinner.

As soon as it was polite, Jefferson excused himself and Gracie, with a look to Emma. Needing no impetus, she also excused herself, receiving no resistance from Henry, who had been asked twice what sort of history they studied in human schools.

The queen seemed to adore Gracie, constantly comparing her knowledge to that of Henry, making sure to note the differences in standards. Emma was two seconds away from throwing a fork through her eyes, but Gracie seemed to diffuse tension with the kind of grace befitting her name.

“Of course, it’s late. I would like a word alone with Miss Swan” the queen said, eyes glinting.

“Your Highness,” Liam interjected smoothly, “I’m afraid Miss Swan isn’t quite privy to all the protocols of court. Perhaps when we’ve—“

“I’m well aware, William. Now, my request stands. Please leave us.”

Jefferson, Henry and Gracie stood. Emma waved them off.

“Go on, Henry. I’ll be right there.”

“I’m staying,” Killian said, tipping his chair in an insouciant move. Emma ignored him. This power play was a family issue, and she did not want to be anyone’s pawn.

“Am man theled?” Queen Cora said to him in Elvish, leaving Emma clueless as Elsa and Liam rose.

“I am staying,” Killian repeated, clearly having no wish to explain his reasons.

Liam looked like he was about to say something, but Killian flashed him a look, posture screaming for this fight to be his. Liam said nothing, giving the queen a hard look before walking out and slamming the door.

“So hot headed, your brother. Just as you are,” she said, switching back to the common tongue. She shook her head at him disappointedly.

Having had more than she could bear, Emma snapped. “Fine, Your Highness,” she said, the title dripping like ooze, “I’m here. What did you want to say?”

“Very well, straight to business. You’re to remain discreet, Miss Swan. The less anyone sees and knows you, the better. You’re not to talk about your suspected parentage to anyone. And…” she pulled out a bottle from her pocket, “if you happen to find yourself with a…problem in your belly, this tea will solve it.”

Killian had grown progressively more irate as the woman had spoken. At her last words however, he growled, standing so abruptly the chair crashed to the floor.

“How dare you—“ he sputtered, stalking to her.

“Killian,” Emma called out sharply, never taking her eyes of the queen who seemed to be enjoying the bonus of watching her stepson rage, “this is my conversation.”

“As you pointed out, I’m uncultured in your bullshit rules of court. So let me tell you right now, that I don’t give a flying snapdragon about what you think of me. I sat down here and played nice while you barely tolerated my son, and now you’re asking me to abort a child I might have? I see why they call you a serpent, but it seems like a damn insult to the snakes.”

“How dare you speak to me that way, you insolent brat! You have truly no idea who you’re speaking to. No idea how I’m helping you. This is your one and only show of mercy, Miss Swan. Test me again, and you will deeply, deeply, regret it.”

Nostrils flaring, the queen strode away, the anger radiating from her an ancient thing. Perhaps if she had been anyone else, Emma might have been cowed, but she felt nothing but anger.

Just as she reached the door, she turned, eyes finding Killian.

“Ask your brother, he knows why I only meant to help,” she said, and then walked out through the antechamber. The door was shut heavily behind her.

“Amarth faeg! That fucking, no good, lousy viper! Pe-channas!” he snarled, picking a bowl and flinging it across the room. It shattered into dust, the fine glass completely disintegrated from the force.

“I should slit her throat where she sleeps.”

“Okay, whoah, calm down, Killian. I’m pissed too, but calm down with the murder.”

“Slitting her throat would be too merciful for someone like her,” he said darkly.

“What did she mean about ask your brother?” Emma asked, moving to pick up the vial she’d left behind.

Killian was shaking, his face red. He looked two seconds from throwing another bowl.

“Who knows? Probably something said to sow seeds of distrust.”

She held the vial of clear liquid up to her eye, swirling it this way and that. “No, she wasn’t lying. I could tell.”

“What are you doing with that?” he asked her instead, ignoring her remark.

“I don’t know.”

“Throw that away. Perhaps you should throw it there,” he said, indicating to where a dust of white lay to their right, “where it belongs.”

“Does it do what she said?”

His mouth dropped open, the look in his eyes one of betrayal. “You can’t be serious.”

“I don’t think I would. But I should have a choice!” She tossed the vial in the air and caught it.

“You do have a choice, but what am I? Does my opinion count for nothing?”

“Not if it’s my life on the line!” She growled at him.

“That’s fair, Emma, look I’ll respect your choice. But at least let us talk about it if it comes to that. And for the love of the universe, not by her methods. Who knows what poison is actually in that.”

Without a word, Emma swung her arm back, releasing the vial against the wall. It shattered, the liquid running down the sides of the wall.

“That felt good,” she said, grinning. “I pictured hitting the back of her head.”

Killian blinked at her, an unreadable look on his face, before he surged, crossing the distance and grabbing her by the waist. He kissed her soundly, pulling greedy kisses from her lips. She responded enthusiastically, channeling all her irritation and emotion into passion.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers, breathing deeply.

“You’re a marvel, Emma Swan.”

“And you have some serious anger issues, but it’s also very, very sexy.”

“I just don’t want to see you hurt.”

“That’s sweet, Killian, but I can fight my own battles.”

He smiled against her lips, kissing it briefly before pressing his nose to hers. “I don’t doubt it, but you don’t have to do it alone. That’s what I keep telling you.”

“Okay.”

“Really?”

She pulled back far enough to look him in the eye.

“Henry told me an old saying. We’re only as strong as we are united.”

“Smart lad.”

“Yeah. I missed you. I could feel that…emptiness. I thought it was an after-effect of all that Recognition stuff…maybe it is, but I guess… I mean you asked why make this harder than it needs to be, and well, maybe you’re right.”

“I know exactly what you mean, my love. I’d rather not live like that, considering I now know what its like to have you in my arms. My heart no longer needs be empty. I know it won’t be easy, but we don’t have to get involved in any of the snake’s politics, we can just… be. Away from here. Work on this, us, together. Would you like that?”

“I suppose it’s good as any plan.”

He laughed, tweaking her nose. “That’s hardly a plan, but we’ll work on one. Henry is probably getting really impatient outside this door.”

“Yeah, I’m surprised he hasn’t barged in yet. Gracie is really good for his manners.”

Killian kissed her softly, a gentle peck of the lips, before reaching to grasp her fingers with his hand.

“And you’re really good for me. Come.”

please track tag ‘cs ff recognition’ for future updates:

@piratesails @freckelscheeks@pinkbonesforeverblog@alys07@emswan @julesep3026@rouhn@stephat815@strawberryfieldsbricksonwalls @andiirivera@env13@klar425@urufrufruf @shady-swan-jones @teamhook@fleurreads@fictional-redheads @myswan-myhappyending-mylove@scottieswan@haocomeback @onceuponaprincessworld @adeelam@fallensites @deathbycaptainswan @ascolinwishes @ab-normality@kmomof4@natascha-remi-ronin @cigarettes-and-scotch-whisky @kday426@sambethe @rouhn

Shoutout to @mysecondmountain and @galadriel26 for all the comments and reblogs and for reading past fics and commenting on that too. You guys are rockstars ILU

[prorevenge]

My kid does 13K in damage to studio equip, we handle it like lunatics.

[Part 1]

Some background:

I'm an audio engineer and score arranger full time in my self-owned business. It's how I provide for myself, my fiancée (also CF), and my mother. I record, mix, and master for bands, voice-overs for local commercials, and write music for people's weddings, college films, indie games, etc.. It was my passion since I was a child and every day I ask myself why I get paid to do what I do.

You know, until today.

I had a woman schedule to come in because she wanted me to record her monologue for an acting class. I thought it was going to be easy enough. I set up a mic and a music stand in the sound booth and got my workstation prepped for tracking. She was supposed to show up at 3:30, so when 4:00 came around, I called her to ask her if she was still coming. It was my last contract for the day and I was wanting to get home to my fiancée, dogs, and dinner.

"Oh, sorry sweetie, I'm going to be there soon. I just had to get my son from ex-boyfriend."

Uh oh.

4:12, she showed up with her child.

To preface, I've never really wanted kids, and don't really hate them either. But I've been childfree of mind for a decade now in league of several bad child experiences in public.

Anyway, I sat her down at the conference table and tried to talk to her about the contract and billing, etc., and just couldn't because of the six-years-old pile of ovary droppings next to her.

"Mommy it's cold in here." "Mommy, I'm bored." "Mommy, that guy has girl hair." "Mommy, I want to play on the phone."

The incessant whining went on for the entirety of the discussion. She did nothing about it. I had an ache in my stomach that this might be a rough session.

I was right.

I showed her to the sound booth, positioned the mic at face level, told her the basics of mic use, and then she floored me with a question.

"Can my son stay in there with you while I do this?" I insisted that he wait in the conference room (across the hall from the control room) because the control room wasn't a very kid-friendly place considering the 120K of equipment at arms reach.

"But he's a little angel."

I shouldn't have taken her word for it. I SHOULD NOT have taken her word for it. This kid was ANYTHING but. I let him in, told him to sit in one of the office chairs and don't touch anything. Needless to say, he touched. I queued the recording arm and signaled her to start. She got three lines into her take before I hear a deafening screech and crash.

That little shit machine had just knocked over a $4,000 Korg into a rack with $9,500 of equipment. Completely shattered the touchscreen on the Korg, busted the dials off of half of the effects, and totaled my distressor that I use for almost all the vocals I track.

All of this, by the way, was the room's length apart from where I told the crotch goblin to stay.

The kid, because of the loud noise, started full-lung screaming. Not crying. Not yelling. Screaming.

The mother, with no hesitation, ran over to the control room and DEMANDED to know what I did to her child. She cussed at me and accused me of hurting her little snot monster. Threatened to sue and even swung at me. When I told her that her precious angel had just racked up at least twelve grand of damages, she said "good", spit on me, then stormed out, slamming every door on the way. So I pulled the security camera footage and had filed a police report. Grand total: $13,504.25. I also mailed her the bill for her session for good measure.

Of six years in the studio, this is my only truly terrible experience. Fuck mombies. Fuck having children. Thanks for making my vasectomy decision that much easier on me.

[Part 2]

I'm going to start off and say that this community is bad ass. With legal advice, moral support, and inquiry of the trade, you guys/gals/other have made this whole endeavor a bit easier on me.

Cheers.

Okay, since Sunday, I've managed to speak with my insurance company, my lawyer, some repair techs, the police (again), and my urologist. For the sake of good storytelling, I'll organize this chronically.

Monday:

I left a message for my insurance agent about all this. I then called some repair techs about getting my Korg and the distressor repaired to potential working order, and to no avail. The distressor would have costed two grand to repair (on a $1,320 piece), so I wait on my insurance payout to replace it. Korg, apparently, has no replacement parts available anywhere in the US for their flagship keyboard, so another $4k down the drain. The dials on the rest of the effects rack can be easily fixed. May not look as stellar, but what can you do. At least it survived an attack from an over-metastasized cumshot. I ordered replacement dials from my local electronics store and mailed out the session bill to Mombie. Beyond that, I got in touch with a friend in Memphis who was gracious enough to lend me his Portico 5042 in the meantime. Should be arriving some time Friday.

Tuesday:

Boy oh boy. I went to my lawyer's office to see what could be done about Mombie's actions. He's thinking it'd just be best to let the insurance company go after the property damages, and that it'd be too expensive for me to recruit him for what the insurance company will do by themselves. As per the assaults are concerned, he asked me to gather all evidence (Video, contract, police report) and said that since no bodily harm was caused, it'd be the best idea to go to civil court rather than criminal, and file for a protective order. The words "emotional damages" were emphasized. He was very specific about not posting any of the evidence. As long as what I post remains vague, doesn't mention any identifying information, it doesn't stand in court.

"Make sure you can say it is a made up story if asked."

We also discussed revising my contract, more info on that when we get to it. Beyond that, I decided to jump the gun and inquire about a vasectomy. I have an appointment with my GP on the 7th of March.

Wednesday:

Reader beware, this is where it gets cringy. I'd grab a stiff drink if I were you. I opened the studio back up and got back to work. I had a voicemail left for me on the studio phone. A "lawyer", toting the most deep fried country accent I've heard, called me from a "Ford & Handcock" law firm (which I couldn't find anywhere on the internet) threatening "Immediate sueing" for "Sexual rape harassment" for filing a police report against his "client."

Here's the transcript of what I could understand through his dumpster fire of an accent: (I swear I'm not making this up) "Yeah, this is [withheld] from Ford & Handcock callin' to tell you that you're gonna get immediate sueing for what you did to my girlfri- client and her baby boy. Y'all know as well as I do that [unintelligible noises] was nothin' short of sexual rape harassment and that you're goin' ta be in a lawsuit if you don't delete the cop report you made up(?)."

I couldn't breathe, I was laughing too hard.

Once I regained my composure, I called back to inquire about this impending doom that I was promised by this product-of-incest harbinger. The call was forwarded to their voicemail inbox, where it opened up with the aforementioned accent, saying:

"Hey, this is [different name than the "lawyer"] and [mombie's name] and we're not here right now so if you could leave..."

So on.

So I just hung up and called my fiancee, emailed her the voicemail and asked her to listen to it, just to hear her sniffling and cackling like a maniac at the sound of this guy's six-inches-deep-in-cousin accent and overall misunderstanding of the american law system. I recorded the voicemail onto a thumbstick and giving it to my lawyer along with the video, police report, etc..

Thursday:

As of this morning, no call back from my insurance adjuster, so I'm just going to wait on that. I'm sitting by the phone, so if I get another call from "Ford & Handcock", I can deliver the "Do not call back/stop harassing me" line, so I can add that to the list of potential charges if it becomes a thing. Not very much else happened beyond that, and I'll keep you lot updated. Thanks for your support. *Edited to fix a phone auto-correct, what was supposed to say "Ford & Handcock" said "Ford & Hitchcock". Sorry all.

[Part 3]

There has been a... development with the mombie, dr /professor/lawyer/part time absent-father from Ford and Handcock.

I said in the update I posted before (Links at the bottom) that I had a call from a "lawyer" from one "Ford and Handcock", and am practically on standby for another call from said "lawyer".

Well, that call came on Friday.

So, guy called back, my fiancee was in the studio with me while we were taking turns playing Dishonored 2 on a "workstation" pc doing very important adult-like studio work, and his message for me was practically a carbon copy of the last one. I gave him the "Do not call back/stop harassing me" bit, to which he said

"That law don't apply to me. I'm a laawwyyeerr. I can do whatever the hell I need to do to do the law, even if it takes lethal deadly force" [sic]

Given the threat, I called the police, filed a report, gave them the original recording of the call and kept a copy for myself.

My wife-to-be did notice that the inbred gave the pseudonym "Conrad McMasters", which she recognized from the TV show "Matlock". Go figure.

So, skipping on to tonight.

We came back to the studio to pick up a laptop for my mum to use while in the hospital (just a minor fall injury, she'll make a full recovery), and noticed that the handle on the exterior door had been jerked loose. So, I told Fiancee to get back into the car and park down the street, have 911 dialed, don't come out until the all clear, call the police if she heard gunshots. I drew my handgun and looked around the place.

I didn't find anything, but the windows and outside door were damaged with what seemed like an attempted break-in, and a "Cash Express" post-it-note stuck to the stoop that said "U fucked up".

Shout out to U/VanillaG6790 (hope I'm formatting this correctly) for suggesting that I put cameras outside the studio alongside the interior ones. I only have one installed as of yet (DIY), facing the front door. So, I made sure nobody was around, waved Fiancee back to the studio, we got in, locked up, and backed up the security footage to see what we could find.

Lo and Behold, Mombie's car. A man (maybe the singletoothed re-imagining of Mr. McMasters from before?) yanked on the outside door with the veracity of a chimpanzee in the prime of mating season, walked out of frame (in the direction of the aforementioned windows) and stayed out of frame for about fifteen minutes, before returning just to scribble on the note and stick it on the stoop. He then saw the camera, shot the biggest 'O SHIT' face, and scurried back to his methmobile and sped off.

So to recap, we have a clear-view copy of:

His license plate

His attempted breaking-and-entering

His face. The pez-dispenser looking motherfucker practically spiked the lens for five seconds.

Police were called for this too. Details will be submitted post-trial, and I'll contact my lawyer first thing in the morning.

I tried doing it just now, but, DUH, it's Sunday, his office is closed.

Anyway, you guys are awesome. The advice I'm getting from you lot is saving me so much grief. I'm contacting the Bar association to tell them about the actions of Dr./Professor/Matlock-Impersonator/absent-father.

By the way, Meeting with GP (and then hopefully my urologist) next Tuesday in attempts at getting snipped.

Oh, and I've gotten most of the dials my equipment repaired, I ordered another KRONOS, another distressor, and got the Portico 5042 on Friday as a temporary stand-in. I have to give it to the Portico. Not bad. Not bad at all.

I'll keep you all updated as things happen, but I'm not sure when it may be. I'll post a micro-update on how the appointment goes on the 7th.

(source) (story by deleted)

[chickenkooks]

This is!!!!!!!! Wow !!!! I have so many things to say like 1. At the bts concert Jhope was the one who like wrecked my soul (especially bc I got hit by the water he threw from his water bottle) and Jungkook's speech was actually the cutest so I feel you ! 2. Were you at the got7 fanmeet in January or the concert bc I was totally at the fanmeet omg 3. And the block b concert from like a year and a half ago?? That was the first concert I ever went to??? More in the next ask -best friend anon

anonymous asked:

!! Ok !! 4. My own tag??! You’re the sweetest omg 5. I live like an hour away from Chicago!! You’re so close !! 6. I’m so glad you’re such a positive and sweet and nice person bc seeing you respond to all your asks with such sincerity is really refreshing 7. I’m so excited for the preview + tra part 3!!!!! 8. I swear I’ll make a blog that isn’t a personal blog one day so I don’t have to hide myself from irl people anymore -best friend anon (+ my numbering in this list might be totally off oops)

anonymous asked:

Oh wait I totally forgot to mention that I feel like the exact same way you do about Jungkook bc I constantly call him a loser and insult him even though he’s my favorite + one of my closest friends is a Jin stan who lowkey tries to swerve me into his lane all the time but it’s fine everything is fine -best friend anon

I THINK IM JUST GONNA MAKE THIS A READ MORE JSUT BECAUSE I GOT A LOT TO SAY!!!!!! SO MORE UNDER THE CUT!!!!!! i almost typed cunt

1) OMG I KNOW MY FRIEND THAT CAME WITH ME RECORDED J-HOPE THE ENTIRE TIME HES ON FIRE WHEN HES PERFORMING his solo was LIT and omg i know it was so amazing actually being there because u can see accounts of ppl going to a concert but experiencing it urself is another thing entirely!!!!!!! so the fact that chicago’s concert had its own special thing, like the bunny ears n the ment jungkook said JUST for chicago was really nice!!!!!! 

2) i did not actually go to the fanmeet. if i had more money i think i would’ve :-( but its just because i already saw them in concert so i would rather buy 1000 potatoes instead. im sure the fanmeet was fun though!!!! 

3) and YES I WENT TO THE CONCERT IN CHICAGO AND IT WAS MY FIRST CONCERT TOO????? WTF U REALLY ARE BEST FRIEND ANON??????

4) OMG NO UR THE SWEETEST ahhh i look forward to ur asks so much even though ur on anon i consider u a friend!!!!!! even tho u do not consent :-D

5) AND REALLY OMG ive lived in chicago my entire life and so since most groups go to chicago when they have a us tour i try to go!!!!!! but i secretly pray they dont because i like having money n i wouldnt ever drive to california

6) aw thank you so much!!!!! u guys are so nice to me. i really dont see myself as that nice since i think being kind to ur readers and followers is just what u should do? u guys can always ask me the same question over and over because i do love talking to u guys!!!!!! know that i genuinely mean that

7) I GOT THESE LAST NIGHT AND WAS ACTUALLY UP EDITING THE PART BUT THIS SHOULD POST SOMETIME FRIDAY MORNING but im so excited too to see what u guys think!!!!!! i hope its not disappointing at all!!!!!! it’ll probably be up in a few hours. i think i queued it for like 5 PM CDT?

8) and you honestly dont have to if it makes u uncomfortable!!!!! ofc thats not to say i wouldnt love talking to u privately because i would love to but i never wanna pressure any of u guys to come off anon!!!!! so only if u want to!!!!!!

9) i made this number up for ur third message BUT SAME sometimes i consider myself a jinkook stan because i literally love jin so much??? BUT YEAH IM SURE SOME PEOPLE ARE JUST LIKE “LMAO WHAT A LOSER WHY CANT SHE JUST ADMIT SHE LOVES JUNGKOOK N STOP ACTING LIKE THIS” but when u love someone. n really love someone. u gotta call them an idiot once

[cannibalhouse]

RDC3 Personal Highlights (spoilers: feels!)

So it’s been a few days since RDC3 and I still have not finished processing all the emotions. But I wanted to post my personal con highlights while they’re still fresh in my memory. Brace yourselves--it’s going to be a long one!

Firstly, let me get a few basics out of the way. It was beyond wonderful to see my wonderful fannibal family again. Truly, you guys make my life better every day in every imaginable way. In fact, my only real regret is that I was running around like a mad woman on a mission all weekend, and didn’t spend as much time with friends old and new as I wanted to. I didn’t even give out many of my posters! I hope you all forgive me <3 

I got a chance to meet a couple of my favourite artists, @camilleflyingrotten and @theseavoices - I think I kept my cool and didn’t fangirl too hard. I also briefly ran into @bansheegrahamtao who sadly did not throw wine at me again, I was very disappointed :P 

I would also like to thank everyone for all the amazing and thoughtful gifts and swag I came away with--including a beautiful handmade scarf from one of my dear friends. I will cherish it all, and plan to plaster the art all over the walls when @the-winnowing-wind and I officially move in together this month.

Onto the guests, who were all fantastic. Ellen seemed lovely, though I missed her solo q&a on Sat because I was stewarding. Demore was an absolute delight and so, so funny and sweet! Scott and Aaron were on their ‘best behaviour’ after their shenanigans at the first con... So naturally this translated into 50 Shades of Hannibal, featuring such scenes as Scott wearing Hannibal’s actual collar from ‘Digestivo’, Scott in high heels pretending to be Hannibal while Aaron as Will cried and smacked him with a riding crop, Aaron on his belly kissing Scott’s feet, and an actual adorable kiss. Love these guys so much. Myself and the co-writer of CopCop also had a chance to explain the upcoming comic to them, and they seemed excited at the prospect so watch this space!

(We’ll talk about Bryan in a little bit. I have a lot to say about Bryan.)

Hugh Dancy was just such a friendly, genuine person, and he seemed to have such a great time the whole weekend. He was so up for everything, dressing up with Bryan for the costume contest, doing all the crazy poses in photos... Speaking of which:

I said ‘I’m going to freak out’ because my mind went blank and I couldn’t think of a funny pose. Bryan said ‘should we freak out too?’ and then Hugh... Oh Hugh. There are no words for how much I love this picture.

I sadly missed the fannibal musical because I was taking part in the costume contest, but let me say that I’m so proud of everyone involved, and really grateful that I got to contribute in small small way with a few illustrations in the booklet. I’ve heard the performance was beyond amazing!

As for the costume contest, everyone looked amazing. In what is becoming a weird con tradition, the Chesapeake Stripper made a return, despite her utter terror at doing that in front of Hugh and Bryan. Luckily, she was joined by a friend--the fearless and fabulous @violetdebauched as the Stripper!Will to my Stripper!Hannibal. The pictures I’ve seen of the guests’ faces are amazing, and I’ve heard Hugh’s jaw dropped when Stripper!Will came out. And even though I ever so slightly... fell over in my stripper heels... right in front of my idols... Well, we looked fierce :P

I’d also like to share a pic of my Hannibal vinyl which I’ve had signed this con and last, and which now bears the sentiment ‘Great Stripping’ from Mr Aaron Abrams. This is the kind of positive affirmation I need in my life ha ha!

Now. Let’s talk about Bryan. Sit down, we’ll be here a while. 

I’ll start by saying I had a few moments with Bryan that I can’t talk about publicly, either because they were deeply, deeply personal, or because they relate to something which may happen in the future but I don’t want to jinx it.

Bryan was just a bundle of energy and enthusiasm and love the entire weekend. From yelling ‘I want to crowd-surf!’ and going running around the hall slapping high fives, to signing autographs on Sunday for 8 freaking hours straight without taking a break (except to do the closing ceremony, and going straight back to it), he was just incredible. He was just so excited to see everyone and could not be stopped from jumping out of whatever he was supposed to be doing to take selfies or snap a pic of someone’s costume or tattoo (he took a pic of my arm ha ha!). 

Speaking of his marathon autograph session, I stewarded it the whole time (3.30pm-11.30pm, phew!) and I don’t think he stopped smiling once that entire time. He was insistent on spending time with each and every person and it was a real delight to witness. Towards the end of the session, when there were only a few dozen people left, I remembered I had some of these posters in my bag and handed them out to the people queuing to spark some conversation with them, since we were all tired by then. I went back to guarding the door, when a fannibal ran up to me and said Bryan wanted one of the posters--he’d seen someone holding it, but I don’t think he knew where it had come from. I didn’t have any left on my person, so the lovely fannibal gave hers back and the staff let me slip it onto Bryan’s table (lovely fannibal, if you’re reading this, let me know who you are and I’ll send you a replacement and something pretty to say thank you!). Sadly, this almost ended in tears because one person at the end of the queue did something shockingly spiteful and unkind which resulted in Bryan losing the poster... I won’t go into details because it’s not worth the drama. But thanks to the kindness of the staff, and possibly because I have good karma, we got him a spare and he told me he wants to frame it. I don’t know if he will, but it was so sweet of him to say I just cried! That was the second time he made me cry that day! As for the first time...

As many of you know, I was compiling a fan book for Bryan featuring art, letters, poems, and pictures from fannibals all over the world. I got around 200 submissions, so thank you all so much for making that happen! Bryan already knew about the book because he somehow found my post on Twitter, and had said he was super excited. Boy was he excited.

I spent weeks working on the book, culiminating in two sleepless nights before the con feverishly finalizing the proofs, and sent it off to the printer Thursday morning. Kudos to my printers for hearing a frantic fannibal on the phone begging them to rush the order and doing such a great job of it! It arrived at the hotel shortly I did on Friday, and I began taking it around for people to sign and write messages on the inside covers. After all, I had titled it the Fannibal Yearbook, so that seemed appropriate. Thank you all for the enthusiastic and heartfelt response!

On Saturday morning, I had a photo with Bryan and decided to get one of us holding the book, because I was really attached to it by now and wanted something to remember it by. Bryan’s face lit up when he saw it and he said he’d been looking forward to it, but I told him he couldn’t have it yet and shouldn’t look at it! He said he loved it already and squeezed me after we’d taken the picture:

On Sunday, with the book now chock-full of messages for him, I decided the best time to present it to him would be during his q&a panel with Hugh, so everyone could enjoy his reaction (it wasn’t my book, so many people made it possible and they all deserved to share that moment). I got in line, and when I got to the mic and told him we’d like to present him the book, his reaction was amazing. He grinned and said something like ‘I’ve been looking forward to this all weekend! It’s the last day of the con and I thought, where’s my book, I want my book!’ Then he hopped down off the stage to take it, and gave me a huge hug.

(photo by @solamentenic on Twitter, whose tumblr name momentarily escapes me!)

(Photo by Naomi Roper Photogaphy)

I believe what happened next was Bryan thanking everyone for all their lovely art and letters, etc... But I was suddenly very emotional and didn’t want him to see me cry (again, that resolve lasted all of about 10 hours) so I went back to my seat and had a wee sob. Thanks to the person who gave me a tissue! 

I hope he loves the book, and maybe he will tweet some pictures at some point! Then earlier today, someone sent me a link to these pictures on the Starfury Instragram account:

These pictures were already EVERYTHING. And then I noticed which page they were looking at in the first picture. It’s this one:

The one in the bottom right corner that Hugh seems to be looking/pointing at? That’s a piece of my own art that I included: The Brides of Hannibal pastiche poster, aka my favourite thing I’ve ever drawn. I don’t know if they’re looking at the same page in the second picture, but that reaction is so beautiful and pure that, whatever caused it, it’s giving me life! Just think guys--we made Bryan throw his head back laughing, we did it!  High five!

I’m going to wrap it up there because this has taken 3 hours to write already, even though I’m definitely forgetting about 100 amazing things that happened. Thank you all for the hugs, the gifts, the laughs, and just basically for being the most lovely and caring group of people I’ve ever had the privilege of associating with. I love you all, and I can’t wait until we dine together again!

Yours totally functional and more or less sane,

Sam xx

(p.s. I think I’m right in saying Bryan confirmed Will and Hannibal are switches?? This makes me suuuuuper happy)

[thenonaveragetwentysomethin-blog]

Alcoholics Anonymous? But I just like a drink...

Hi, I’m Bex, and I, like most people, enjoy(ed) a drink.

A vodka and coke, a rum and coke, a cider, a larger, a glass of champagne, a cocktail, even a whiskey. Never wine though, god I can’t stomach that shite. I can easily drink a can of special brew warm but never wine. Bottom line, I always enjoyed a drink.

I’d drink for people’s birthdays, I’d drink for people’s leaving do’s, I’d drink for old friends getting together, for any given plethora of celebrations that are out there. I’d drink because of a good day and because of a bad one. I’d drink because I fancied a pint. I just liked a drink, nothing wrong with that right? 

“Invite Bex, she knows how to how a good time” “Make sure Bex, is there, she can handle her booze!” “Is Bex coming? She knows all the best places”

I was the fun one, who was always up for a pint, wherever, whenever with whomever. What’s wrong with a couple of ciders after work? What’s wrong with coming home wrecked on a Tuesday night because it was cheap shots at the local boozer? It started out at ‘one-off’s’. It started out as enjoying myself, “I deserve a drink, I deserve to let my hair down, I’ve had a rough year”.

I was just having fun wasn’t it? Wasn’t i? 

I’d always be up for a trip to ‘Spoons, no matter how much it may have inconvenienced me, or anyone else for that matter. Financially, geographical, professionally or personally. I couldn’t say no when the night was over, I never wanted it to be over. “Oh just one more pint, go one, I’ll pay”. 

I was pseudo aware I had an issue, but I just palmed it off at binge drinking, or just wanting a bit of fun. The NHS defines binge drinking as...

‘6 units of alcohol in a single session for women’. I assume a ‘single session’ is a short space of time, half an hour for example. 6 units is 2 pints of large or 2 large glasses of wine, which, really isn’t a grandiose amount is it.. quite pathetic attempt at binge drinking really in all honesty. I was, on an average night, packing away roughly 20 units. A warm mix of cider, rum and vodka (maybe a tequila if it was cheap) swirling around my stomach, warming my body and warming my heart. 

An average week for me, including a couple nights out would look something like this. Monday: work, finish at 5:30 or 6. Pub. 4 pints of cider and a couple bottles of desperado’s. 16 units. Tuesday: ahh, lovely, Tequila Tuesdays! Pre-drinks at a local bar; 4 or 5 ciders, maybe an alcohol-pop. (throw back to being 13 necking, caribbean twist and wkd’s.. which I still have no idea what that stands for*****).  15 units at predrinks. Later that night: a few rum and cokes (double), a few more pints of cider, maybe a larger and some cheeky j-bombs thrown in for good measure. 13 units. End of night? roughly 28 units. Wednesday: urg hangover, god I feel shit. I’m never drinking again. Put me in the fucking bin I’ve got work. Finish at 6.... anyone about for a pint? Lovely job, 3 or 4 pints of cider, bus home. 8 units. Thursday: well that was a beautifully boring day, I’ll go over my mates for dinner, maybe a tinny there. 4 units. Friday: ahh, look at that, it’s (almost) freakin’ weekend baby imma bout to have me some fun.. Rihanna, 2017 (or 16, I don’t know). Night out, it’s Friday. Friday is a classic going out night. I’ll run home from work, get gussied up, couple cans at home (4 units) and head out. Pre drinks: same as usual, no need to repeat, give or take 15 units. The clubbing venue: cheap booze and a well heated smoking area. Easy. Total for that night? 30 units Saturday: Once again I vow to never drink, I’ll have a night off I say to myself. Work, home, shower and bed. Cheeky tinny before bed. 4 units Sunday: I used to have Sunday’s off, sometimes I’d go to spoons, sometimes my friends house. Either way, give me a pint of larger pleeeeaaaase and pack of flakey’s.. (Two Pints of Larger and Packet of Crisps reference for anyone who hasn’t witnessed the perfection that is that programme, and is so very quintessentially British). Either way, let’s add a couple more units to my ‘Alcohol Unit Bed-Post’. 2 units.

*****okay I just googled... it means ‘wicked’.. wow. British culture.

End of week? 92 units. The most one should consume within a week is 14. 

I’d like to say this type of week was a one off, but it really, really wasn’t. I can't tell you the exact time, day or month it spiralled. I can’t tell you the exact moment that I lost all self-control, dignity, money, self-respect and self-care.  I can’t even tell you why it became a problem. 

What I can tell you, it changed from merely a social lubricant to soften the edges. To my best friend, my confidant, my warmth. Alcohol never let me down, until it did. 

I became very secretive of my drinking. Drinking in my room, drinking in the toilets of bars out of flask. Lying about how much I had drunk. Lying about where I had been. Paradoxically I was also very open about my drinking, ordering rounds, going out, visibly infront of people telling me “slow down Bex, you’ve had a lot tonight”

Most of my stories began with “mate, I was so fucked” or “jesus I was gone that night”.. or “I can’t even remember that! (queue self-pittying laugh after).

The more I drank, the less I remembered. The more I drank the less it worked, so time and time again I would push body to its limits, throwing as much down my neck as I possibly could. It felt good. Alcohol gave me a rush of love. It gave me confidence, it made me funny, smart, attractive, fucking indestructible. It also made me angry, obnoxious, overtly sexual, selfish, rude, and to quote someone dear to me ‘absolutely out of fucking control’.

I liked the notion of anaesthesia it gave me, alcohol is a wonderful numbing agent, both mentally and physically. Did I either subconsciously or very consciously drink to forget what was going on? Did I drink to forget about the death of my mum, the rape, the nervous breakdown, the falling apart of two relationships, the debt, the stress of a masters degree?

Or did I just drink to have a bit of fucking fun. I truly and honestly always thought the latter. 

I started losing friends, money, dignity, self-respected and the all the fucks to give. I consistently drank to oblivion, I constantly got fucked. I made a multitude of bad decisions, over and over. Drinking more each time to forget the most recent lapse in judgement and morals. I can't say I hated it, because I fucking relished in it. The taste, the feeling, all of it. I even enjoyed the crippling guilt and self-loathing. By this point, I was completely at the mercy of this poison.

I didn’t care who I was hurting. The self-destruction was almost as addictive. Pushing people further and further away, seeing how much they could or couldn’t deal with me. It made me feel alive, electric and I was in no way going to stop. 

What’s the straw that broke the camels back I hear you ask?

It wasn't ending up in A&E with concussion like I’ve done before. It wasn’t ending up on some rando’s sofa like I’d done before. It wasn’t coming home and not remebering a single thing like I’d done time and time before. It was the 2nd of October, 2019. I was sat alone, I had lost my cards, my ID, my keys, my fucking expensive red lipstick. I was sat alone in a Wetherspoon’s toilet. I’d been out for ‘just a cheeky one’ to celebrate my uni results at 2pm that day. Fast forward 10 hours, it’s just before midnight. Someone asked me to go out clubbing, I started my first day at my new job the next morning. I walked to the club, slurring, trying to touch up my make up from crying. I queued up, got in. I beelined for the bar. I opened my mouth to order my usual. 

The next thing I know, I’ve walked out, got a taxi and a pizza and I'm home. Sobered up. In bed by 1am. 

Enough was enough. I was tired, I was fed up, I was completely powerless to alcohol. But something clicked, I had to change or this will not end well.

Hi, I’m Bex and I am an alcoholic.

[mediacalling]

8 Social Media Automation Features You Need to Start Using Right Now

Social media automation can be evil.

I wrote about it here: Why Social Media Automation Will Eventually Kill Social Media (Unless We Do Something About It).

But it can also be a life saver.

In the above blog post, I mostly got angry at the “set it and forget it” mentality some people promote.

If I had to summarize what “bad” automation is, it would probably come down to this: if an automation tool is used to “set it and forget it”, then, it’s probably taking you to the dark side of automation.

What then is “good” automation?

To put it simply, “good” automation is automation that helps us do something we’d do manually if we couldn’t automate it (as opposed to something we’d never do manually anyway). Let’s see what that might entail.

The first step of social media automation: have everything in one place

Automating your social media tasks is about saving time.

If you’re performing a multitude of tasks in a multitude of places, the first “hack” to save time is to get everything done in one place. This incredibly efficient, and potentially less expensive!

If you’re using one tool to post updates on your social media profiles, another tool to respond to your private messages on Facebook or Twitter, a third one to get your reports, a fourth one to listen to mentions of your brand or product, and then have to end your day on Youtube to respond to your channel’s comments there, you’re already spending way too much time on social media.

A social media management tool like Agorapulse allows you to perform all of these tasks using a single tool, saving you hours of work every week (and potentially eliminating additional tool subscriptions).

Obviously, Agorapulse is not the only social media management tool that allows you to do it all in one place, but it’s been ranked as the top one for 3 years in a row (see the ranking here) and is definitely one of the most affordable (see the pricing comparison here)

Automating tedious tasks in your social media inbox

The real value of social media is based on conversations and interactions between human beings (us, businesses and all the prospects and clients we can engage with).

That means, as a good social media manager, you’re probably spending most of your day in your various inboxes making sure you’re taking care of all these incoming messages, comments, mentions, etc.

As you do that, you’re probably liking, replying to, hiding or deleting a LOT of messages, mentions and comments, all of which you do manually, one after the other.

If you’re doing this as a team, you must also sure the team is aligned and doesn’t do the same work twice.

Let’s face it, it’s tedious.

You have to do it, it’s crucial. But it can be overwhelming.

Any click that can be avoided, text you don’t have to type, or actions you don’t have to take repetitively, can make a BIG difference.

That’s where Agorapulse’s automation features come into the picture.

1 – Keyboard Shortcuts

When you reply to, or like, or hide, hundreds of comments per day, chances are you have to do a lot of clicks. We even have users who handle a stunning 3,000 comments and private messages per day on their Facebook pages. Ouch.

With Agorapulse’s keyboard shortcuts, you can perform these actions with just a few keystrokes. This may not sound like a big deal, but when you’re dealing with a high volume of comments or private messages, this simple feature can save you hours every week, and a lot of headache.

2 – Saved Replies

This is probably one of the biggest time-saving features of Agorapulse. It’s also a pretty unique one. Most other tools, if they offer this feature at all, it’s only included with their more expensive plans.

A saved reply allows you to send a templated response to the most common questions you receive, in just one click! You can even customize the name of the recipient automatically.

I use the saved replies to thank people for retweeting my tweets. Look at how fast this is (no typing at all!):

 And think about the time saved with longer responses…

3 – Automated Moderation (Inbox Assistant)

Our Automated Moderation (or Inbox Assistant) feature is my favorite automation feature. You can do so much with it!

It triggers automated behaviors based on keywords or key phrases. Here are a couple of examples you may find useful:

Automatically review (archive) automated tweets containing a spammy phrase, like “buy followers”

Automatically assign messages that contain the keyword “delivery” or “problem” to a support team member

Automatically hide comments that contain profanities

Automatically tag and bookmark comments that contains positive keywords such as “love”, “great”, “helpful”, etc.

With a high volume of incoming content, this automation engine can really save the day.

Here are examples of automation rules we’ve seen for a Facebook page:

4 – Auto Advance

Agorapulse’s Auto Advance feature has been designed to help users with a HUGE volume of comments or messages in order to reply to them with maximum efficiency.

Basically, the default behavior of our inbox is that, once you’ve replied to a comment or message, you remain on the reply. Most users prefer this as it allows them to read their reply and make sure it’s good.

But this makes you click on the next item to reply to it. It’s fine if you have a few dozens per day. It’s not if you have hundreds!

In that case, you can choose to automatically move to the next comment or message in the list, saving you hundreds of clicks per day.

Automating content publishing: is it worth it?

Let’s face it, the last 3 years have seen more “social publishing” automation tools popping up than there are Instagram lifestyle influencers.

Well, OK, almost.

This tells me one thing: the market is hungry for automation. Users need to save time and automation can be the answer.

When you look at these tools’ websites, there’s one clear message: they promise you to save time AND get more traffic from social media.

How? By repeating your posts automatically.

The first question you may ask yourself is: is it worth it?

Well, the answer is a resounding yes! But don’t take my word for it. We love running tests, so we launched a blog dedicated to this, our Social Media Lab. And we’ve run many tests on this topic.

Repeating your posts on social media works, we have proof!

The very first test we ran was on LinkedIn.

Like everyone else, I would post to LinkedIn once. Our LinkedIn referral traffic was merely OK.

Then, Agorapulse released a new feature allowing to repeat posts automatically and I decided to try it out.

I ran a simple test, I took one of my best Medium posts and, instead of posting it once, I repeated it 5 times, every 10 days. That “hack” provided 24 times more impressions than what the first post would have provided alone.

You can read about the whole experiment here: How I Got 24 Times More Views on LinkedIn.

To be honest, that test got me excited!

It’s not only the number of views that was exciting, it was the potential to get more traffic from Linkedin without lifting a finger.

I went to our Google Analytics account recently and I realized that since we’ve implemented that habit to repeat our LinkedIn content (in the winter on 2017), our traffic from LinkedIn has doubled! Here’s proof:

Keep in mind that we’re still publishing the same amount of content on LinkedIn. The only difference is that we don’t post them once any more, now we repeat each piece 3 times.

The best part is that this strategy also works on Twitter, and even Facebook!

On Twitter, we ran a test on several Twitter accounts and found that republishing evergreen tweets was a massive success. You can read the full test here: Is Evergreen Content on Twitter Dead?

We also ran a comprehensive analysis of Jeff Bullas’ Twitter posting habits, and the results were astounding. Jeff publishes every 15 minutes from a pool of more than 450 blog posts and repeats these tweets every 5 days, indefinitely!

He gets 15,000 clicks per month. Wow.

You can read the full Jeff Bullas case study here: Tweeting Evergreen Content on a Massive Scale!

Finally, we ran a test on Facebook with Mike Allton. In his test, Mike posted 12 blog post to his Facebook page 3 times a day for 28 days. That was a repetition of each post every 3 days (7 times each total).

What he learned is that 66% of the engagement and 69% of the clicks came in after the initial post! That means he would have missed out on about 70% of his reach and engagement had he shared these posts only once.

Does it mean that you should always repeat your content on Facebook? Of course not. But it means you should not disregard that possibility and test it for yourself.

You can read more about this test here: Will Evergreen Content on Facebook Hurt Reach?

Now that we know this works, how can you do it? You’re not going to manually publish these repeated posts right? That would be a nightmare…

That’s where Agorapulse comes into the picture!

The 4 publishing automation features of Agorapulse

1 – Repeating Content

Agorapulse advanced publisher offers the ability to create multiple schedule slots for any given post.

For example, if you’re promoting a webinar for this Friday at 4PM, you may want to promote your webinar on Tuesday at 10AM, then at 5PM, and again on Wednesday at the same times, and finally on Friday morning.

That’s easy to do with our “multiple scheduled times” option:

If you have a recurring event, you can also choose to post at regular intervals with the repeat option. Running a weekly Twitter chat on Monday? You can easily post the same welcome tweet every Monday at 10AM. Have a weekly live Q&A on your Facebook page? Post a reminder on Facebook 1 hour before it every week. Want to wish “happy birthday” to a VIP user on Twitter every year? Easy! Create an happy birthday tweet and make it repeat every 12 months!

The possibilities are endless.

2 – Re-queuing Content

If you have a lot of evergreen content, then you should probably use content queues rather than scheduling each piece one by one. That’s a significant time saver.

The beauty of our content queue system is that it doesn’t stop there: you can actually set up content categories and, more importantly, automatically re-queue each piece as much as you’d like. This “re-queue” option is ideal for posting your evergreen content multiple times in a matter of seconds!

Some of our users have hundreds of posts in their content queues, ensuring the “recycling” of the content with a sufficient time gap between each repetition.

3 – Bulk CSV Upload

Have a lot of pieces of content to publish at once? Or, perhaps you need to collaborate with your team, or with a client, on the posts for an entire week or month? You’ll probably want to work on a Google sheet with your team to get everyone on the same page.

But once you have all of that content ready to be published, do you really want to spend hours manually creating all of those posts?

That’s where the bulk publishing feature of Agorapulse comes in handy!

Just download your content in a CSV format, open Agorapulse, and upload your CSV into the system. All your posts will be imported into our publishing system, and you’ll even be able to see a preview for each post and edit them as needed.

4 – RSS Publishing

RSS publishing is another tremendous time-saving feature.

Perhaps you have a blog where you post a lot of content. Or maybe you share other people’s content on a regular basis. This feature will turn 2 hours of work into just 5 minutes!

In the animation below, I created 20 tweets from our blog’s latest 20 posts in 45 seconds! And I was able to repeat them 4 times, filling my Twitter account with 20 fresh pieces of content from our blog in less than one minute. How efficient is that?

See for yourself:

That’s it! These were the 8 social media automation features our users love the most in Agorapulse.

I’m sure you too can save hours of tedious work every week using them (or some of them).

If you aren’t already using Agorapulse, just sign up for a free trial here and get started. You’ll have full access to use and test all of these features.

8 Social Media Automation Features You Need to Start Using Right Now posted first on http://getfblikeblog.blogspot.com

[mercedespettigre-blog]

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