#the old gay couple and the other guests have a betting pool going

[coldblooded-angel]

COVID AU where Art and Tashi are forced to quarantine when the city wide lockdowns prevent them from traveling. They find a motel that would let them rent the room for as long as they need to. Thankfully, Lily is with her grandma and they’re both safe.

I want forced proximity. I want Tashi going stir crazy not having anything to do. I want Art still attempting to keep in shape until one day he’s too lazy to workout or get up out of bed. I want Art and Tashi forced to actually talk about anything other than tennis.

COVID AU where Patrick gets trapped in the lockdown. He knows he can’t stay in his car forever so he goes to the nearest motel and uses his emergency credit card to rent a room.

One day, he decides to use the amenities. He knows the motel has a pool and he’s not surprised to see other guests already there. He knows he should stay 6 feet apart. Except he recognizes that blunt short bob and that mop of blonde curls.

Yeah, Patrick Zweig just casually quarantining with the Donaldsons. It’s definitely gonna turn out fine.

(Blame @lovethelittlerthings for implanting this in my brain 😵‍💫😵‍💫)

[litwitlady]

this godforsaken mess

Read on AO3.

Warnings: Casual homophobia/biphobia - angst

Angst Prompt #1 - ‘I don’t love you anymore.’

I don’t love you anymore, I don’t love you anymore, I don’t love you anymore. Alex recites the words in his head over and over again, hoping that at some point in the very near future he’ll believe them. But the clock is ticking and the sound of an old Chevy engine is growing louder by the second.

Michael pulls into Alex’s driveway and shuts his engine off. Alex stands in front of him, haloed by his headlights. They stare at each other through the windshield for far too long before Michael opens his door and slides out of the truck. It’s been one week since they last saw each other. And nearly eight since they’ve properly spoken.

Alex stuffs his hands in his pockets. ‘Thanks for doing this on such short notice.’ He doesn’t wait for a response, just turns his back to Michael and walks to his Explorer. It was supposed to be Forrest with him tonight, but he’d been called away to New York on book business. Finding a replacement date at 5:30 pm on a Friday afternoon proved impossible, until he’d done the unthinkable and called Michael.

He’d wanted to cancel - had dialed his CO’s number multiple times without pressing send. Alex had turned her down so many times before that canceling last minute seemed rude and childish and possibly ruinous to his career. But showing up dateless to a dinner party with several other couples seemed ruinous to his mental health, so he’d called everyone in his contacts list.

This whole night promises to end in disaster. He looks up as Michael walks towards the passenger side of his SUV and notices for the first time what he’s wearing. Or more accurately, what he’s not wearing. There’s no audacious belt buckle, no cowboy hat, no grease anywhere he can see. His jeans are new - dark wash denim and so perfectly snug that Alex wonders if they’ve been tailored. And instead of his usual button-up, Michael’s in a v-neck sweater - black cashmere from the looks of it. How Isobel got him to wear any of this is beyond Alex’s comprehension. ‘You look good.’

Michael shuts the door and stares at him. ‘Isobel forced me into Max’s clothes. The sweater’s itchy and the jeans are too long.’ He glances down to where the ends of his pants are cuffed. Same old worn boots on his feet. 

That tiny piece of Michael makes Alex smile. ‘But not the boots, huh?’

‘Over my dead body.’ Michael risks smiling back. ‘You look good, too. But you always look good.’

Alex has to force himself to drag his eyes away, distracting himself with turning his key in the ignition. ‘Again, Michael. Thank you so much.’ The engine roars to life. ‘It’s more than I had any right to ask.’

‘No more apologies. Just fill me in on what I need to know to survive the night. She’s your boss, right?’ He pulls down the sun visor, messing with his hair while avoiding catching his own eye in the mirror. 

‘Commanding Officer, yes. Major Denise Williams. Her husband’s name is Dan. There will be several other couples there - none of them military. All of them heterosexual. Everyone knows I’m gay and in a relationship. You’re a friend helping out last minute.’ Alex hopes none of the small talk ventures too close to their past. But the fear pooling in his stomach knows they’re going to be asked several uncomfortable questions. 

‘Are we ex-lovers or do we avoid that entirely?’ Michael flips the sun visor shut and turns his gaze out the window. ‘To be honest, Alex. I’m not in the mood to lie.’

‘No lying. I loved you and you loved me. It didn’t work. We’re trying to be friends.’ The air in the SUV thickens. Michael shifts in the leather seat, crossing his ankles. ‘Hopefully, that will make the conversation awkward enough to shut everyone up.’

Michael nods and returns his focus outside. The rest of the drive is silent. Not even the radio filling the spaces between them.

The Major’s house is modest in size but well-tended. The yard mostly rock except for the occasional plot of prettily landscaped desert flowers and shrubbery. One large pinyon pine anchoring the space and providing a fair amount of late afternoon shade. Alex parks on the street behind a Subaru and cuts the engine. ‘You ready?’

‘I hope that’s a rhetorical question.’ Michael opens his door and slides out. Waits for Alex to walk around and join him. ‘You and I both know we aren’t ready for this.’ They share a meaningful look and step together towards the front door.

Alex raises a finger to press the doorbell, but the door swings open before he gets the chance. ‘Captain Manes, so good to see you again.’ Dan Williams extends his hand which Alex shakes. 

‘You too, Dan. This is my friend, Michael Guerin.’ He motions to Michael who also extends his hand.

‘Nice to meet you, Michael. Come inside, you two. Denise is in the kitchen with our other guests.’ They cross the threshold and follow Dan into the kitchen, taking in their surroundings as they go. Michael making sure to note any exits in case a quick getaway is needed. Alex smirks at him, knowing exactly what he’s up to.

‘No crawling out of any windows, please,’ he mutters under his breath. 

Michael smirks back at him. ‘No promises.’

‘Alex!’ A middle-aged blond woman greets them, lipsticked grin spread wide across her face and not at all what Michael had expected. She’s happily plump and her warmth radiates throughout the room. ‘And you must be Michael.’

‘Thank you for inviting us, Major. We got you a little something.’ He hands her a bottle of wine. ‘Dan texted me your favorite brand.’ 

She takes the bottle of Cabernet and pulls him into a hug. ‘No Major or Captain tonight. Just Denise and Alex. And thank you for the wine. I can be quite the lush when I’m off duty.’ She winks and Michael cannot believe this woman is in the Air Force. ‘Now come meet everyone.’

Denise introduces them to two other couples. Mark and Silvia who are close to Michael and Alex’s age. Bobby and Tally who are about ten years older. Everyone is pleasant and polite, spending most of the conversation focused on discussing the Williams’ bathroom rehab and their desire to put a pool in next summer. Michael gladly accepts a beer and Alex takes a glass of wine. They keep to the edges of the conversation, rarely offering more than a nod or a hum of agreement.

Somewhere along the way, they subconsciously press together - shoulder to hip. Oblivious until Tally smiles at them and asks the first devastating question of the night. ‘How long have you two been dating?’

Michael and Alex leap apart from each other like they’ve been burned. Alex cuts his eyes to Denise who steps in to save them. ‘I’m sorry, Alex. I forgot to inform everyone before you arrived.’ She turns to the group. ‘Alex’s boyfriend had to go out of town last minute. Michael is a good friend giving up his Friday evening to save Alex from facing us alone.’

Alex smiles his thanks and exchanges a look with Michael. ‘We used to date. In high school, mostly. Never worked out.’ It’s a version of the truth.

‘So, you’re both gay?’ Mark asks, innocently. Sipping at his own glass of wine.

‘I’m bisexual, actually.’ Michael answers, hiding his annoyance with a practiced ease.

The oven timer buzzes and Dan claps his hands. ‘Dinner’s ready. Everyone go grab a seat at the table.’ He shuffles everyone but Michael and Alex into the dining room. 

Denise pulls the roast chicken from the oven and then takes them aside. ‘I’m so sorry. That whole conversation was my fault. I should have explained everything before you arrived. I guess I know why you’ve been avoiding this for so long, Alex.’

Alex does his best to fake a smile. ‘It’s okay, Major. I’ve handled worse.’ 

Dan returns to grab the chicken. Denise moves to follow him out of the kitchen. ‘Take a breather. Join us when you’re ready.’ She pats both of them on the arm and disappears.

‘I’m so sorry. We can leave it you want. She’d never hold it against me.’ He mindlessly gathers a fistful of Michael’s shirt and starts to tug him towards the front door. ‘I can text her from outside.’

Michael grabs hold of his waist. ‘Hey, stop. I’m okay. We’re okay. Like you said, we’ve handled way worse. Casual homophobia with a side of biphobia tainted with a shitload of ignorance? Piece of cake.’

That earns him a small smile. ‘Casual bigotry always feels particularly heinous.’ 

Neither is sure how they end up with their arms wrapped around each other, but regardless, that’s where they land. Hugged tightly together in a strange kitchen. The moment oddly intimate and entirely devoid of sex. They take a long moment to breathe one another in and relax. ‘I like Denise. I bet she’s a good boss. Not at all what I’d imagined.’ 

Reluctantly, Alex pulls away. He has trouble meeting Michael’s eye, standing so close. ‘She is a good boss. It’s one of the reasons I didn’t want to mix the professional with the personal. But everyone in my unit has been to one of her dinners. I couldn’t keep saying no.’

‘And it was supposed to be Forrest with you. The incredibly charming boyfriend who never lets anything ruffle his feathers. And who can spend endless hours talking about his research in a way that makes everyone swoon.’ Michael rolls his eyes good-naturedly.  

‘Maybe you could regale them with your expertise on rebuilding engines. Or applied mathematics. Drug them all to sleep with your brilliance.’ Michael laughs loudly and from out of nowhere Alex wants to kiss him. Rarely has he ever wanted to kiss anyone so desperately. He white knuckles the counter behind him to keep himself from taking a step further, palms sweating and heart racing. I don’t love you anymore, I don’t love you anymore, I don’t love you anymore.

The chant hadn’t worked at the beginning of the night and it’s not working now.

Michael tilts his head towards the dining room. ‘Let’s go eat.’

Dinner goes well, the food is excellent. Alex and Michael get to fade into the background for a while as talk returns to home repair and upcoming travel plans. A little extra alcohol doesn’t hurt either. Alex notices they both drink enough to get a decent buzz going and to calm their nerves. Everyone at the table well ahead of them anyway. Alex is pretty positive the Air Force would frown upon his CO plying him with so much free booze, but he’s not planning on telling anyone so he takes another sip of wine.

Eventually, Silvia turns to Alex. ‘Denise tells us that you’re dating Forrest Long. I’ve seen him around town and know he’s helping his uncle out on the farm. How did you two meet?’

He can feel Michael bristle next to him. But there’s nothing he can do about that and his answer’s certainly not going to help either. ‘Through Michael, actually. They got to know each other at the local library, fighting over the microfiche reader.’

‘Oh, that’s so interesting. What were you researching at the library, Michael? If you don’t mind my asking, of course.’ Everyone turns their attention to Michael, and Alex mentally chastises himself. 

‘Nothing special. Some family history and the 1947 UFO crash. Forrest was doing the same for his book.’ They all nod their heads and return to eating.

‘That’s sweet.’ Denise raises her glass to them. ‘Most exes can barely stand being in the same room together and here you two are playing matchmaker for each other. The only thing I ever wanted to do with one of my exes was fling them into the sun.’ She smiles across the table at her husband and everyone raises their glasses, laughing in agreement.

‘We’re not as well-adjusted as we sound. I’ve wanted to fling him into the sun more times than I can count. And I’m sure the same is true for him.’ Alex chuckles along with the group and glances at Michael. They smile fondly at each other and Michael takes another risk, placing his hand on Alex’s thigh underneath the table.

‘Yeah, but if I ever flung you into the sun, I’d just build a spaceship to go get you back.’ He squeezes Alex’s knee and his eyes soften.

‘Me, too.’ He plants his hand on top of Michael’s and the rest of the room fades away. It is the closest Alex has ever come to cheating on someone. 

Dan clears his throat and they both jerk their heads in his direction. ‘Were you each other’s first loves?’

Michael starts talking before Alex manages to find suitable words. ‘Yes. We were two really soft kids with rough upbringings who found a home in each other. However briefly.’ The table falls silent until Mark begins the story of how he and his wife met working as lifeguards during college.

Dinner ends soon after. Dan and Denise making everyone a plate of food to take home and wishing everyone a goodnight. Denise waves to Michael, but pulls Alex aside. ‘He’s a sweet boy, Alex. I’m glad I got to meet him.’ She stares at him for a beat too long, eyebrows furrowed. ‘May I offer you some unsolicited advice? Please feel free to tell me to fuck off.’

Alex’s eyes widen at her swear. She laughs and shakes her head. ‘I never dreamed of being in the Air Force. And I sure as shit never intended to become a lifer. But life has a funny way of sending us down the right path - no matter how hard we fight against it.’ She gives him one last knowing look. ‘I’ll see you on Monday morning. Tell Michael I think he’s a delight.’

When Alex gets back to his Explorer, Michael is leaning against the driver’s side door. ‘Your keys.’ He’s holding out his hand.

‘I can drive.’ But even he has to admit the world is spinning slightly and his steps are more than little wobbly. Michael doesn’t pull his hand away. ‘Fine.’ He slaps his keys in Michael’s palm. ‘How come you’re so sober?’

‘Years of practice, baby. Plus, after the first beer, I strategically switched to water.’ He smirks and unlocks the car. Michael’s a constant marvel and Alex misses him so much.

The ride home is once again silent. Alex dozes off and wakes up to discover Michael leaning over his lap to unfasten his seat belt. ‘I miss you.’ He doesn’t mean to say it. But he’s glad it’s out in the open now. 

Michael helps him slide out of his seat and plant his feet firmly on the ground. ‘That’s the wine talking. Just last week you avoided talking to me in the cereal aisle.’

‘I have to avoid you or something wrong will happen.’ Michael ignores him and walks him to his front door, using his telekinesis to click the deadbolt open. All Alex’s security lights turn on, flooding his patio with bright, blinding light. Returning some of his sense to him and flaming his cheeks with embarrassment. ‘I’m sorry. You’re right. I had too much wine.’

Michael nods, letting the whole thing go with a shrug. ‘You okay on your own?’

‘Yeah. Thanks again. For everything. I owe you.’ Alex wants to hug him. Wants to kiss him back in time to the moment right before he’d kissed Forrest that first time. But he doesn’t do either. ‘Goodnight, Michael.’

‘Night, Alex.’ He turns and strides to his truck. The darkness of night stealing him from Alex’s sight.

The Chevy disappears down the street, the chug of the engine growing fainter as the stars shine overhead. And Alex tries one last time. I don’t love you anymore, I don’t love you anymore, I don’t love you anymore.

[drawacharge]

For the AU thingy ... Steve and Billy being friends since childhood and Billy having a massive crush on Steve (who's fucking clueless) then Steve's crazy about Nancy... blah blah blah, thoughts?

send me an au & i’ll give you 5+ headcanons about it

oof, anon, how did you know this is like my fave au lmao

basically billy moves there when he’s like eleven, rather than seventeen, and he’s a little chunky but he’s already a spit fire and when he tackles tommy hill to the ground for calling him fat steve is like wow i like this kid and invites him to sit w/ them at lunch & the rest is history 

they become fucking inseparable. if harrington is there, you can fucking bet hargrove isn’t close behind. they’re spending every weekend at each other’s house that their parents allow. sometimes steve wakes up and billy’s already in his house, or in his pool ( because steve gets up too fucking late & billy gets up at like 8am regularly and can’t deal w/ waiting on his sleepy ass ) poor tommy kind of becomes the odd guy out some days, but once carol joins the fray he stops giving as much of a shit. 

unlike teenage girls, teenage boys stop sharing beds at some point because it’s too gay ( at least thats how it was when i was a teenage so im betting it was worse than that in the 80s ) which tommy states like every time he makes a bed on steve’s floor, or steals one of the guest rooms. billy & steve, however, don’t really care. hell, they never even discuss it. steve’s bed is easily the most comfortable bed in his house and billy is Not about to give that up because of something hill says – that said, when steve sleeps over at billy’s ( which is rare ) he always takes the floor or the couch. billy says it’s safer this way and steve’s just learned not to question it.  

when he’s thirteen years old steve mentions the bruises on billy’s arms and their origin to his dad. steve’s dad just wrinkles his nose and says we don’t get in the middle of another family’s business and moves on. later, steve considers riding his bike down to the police station but billy begs him not to. after that they agree that any time billy needs to run away from home, or from his dad for a while, he’ll come straight to steve’s

billy knows he likes guys as soon as he hits puberty ( probably even before that if he’s honest ) he knows he likes steve in particular about a year after that when they’re sitting by the pool laughing and drinking beer they swiped from his dad’s fridge. two years after that he realizes he’s in love with his best friend, but it’s too fucking late because suddenly steve can’t take his eyes off the too-skinny rich girl with the annoying brother. 

+it tears them apart, more or less. the more steve hangs out with nancy, the nastier billy becomes about it. he hates her, hates the way steve looks at her, but most of all he hates that steve will never look at him that way. and he watches steve antagonize jonathan byers and call his brother a queer and realizes that, not only will steve never feel the same, but that if he ever dared to tell him how he felt, he’d lose his best friend, too. nevertheless, billy’s loyal, and when byers’ goes for steve’s throat billy’s there to yank him off and beat the shit out of him.

++billy’s there when steve tells tommy and carol to fuck off. he watches as tommy gets in steve’s face. he gets between them, shoves tommy back, opens his mouth to tell both of them to cool their jets but. steve tells them to fuck off. tells them all to fuck off.

tells billy to fuck off.

and, just like that, billy loses his best friend. and the love of his life.

+++it takes an entire year and his stupid step-sister wrapping herself up in upside down drama for them to talk again. by then steve’s fucking heart broken because he wasn’t good enough for the girl next door and following the curly-haired lispy one around like a lost puppy. they meet in the junkyard, billy begrudgingly following behind his little sister and her new beau that he’s only allowing because he knows she’s gonna do what she wants anyway, and at least this way he can help make sure neil never finds out.

they stare at each other, give very forced greetings of “harrington” “hargrove” and billy just barely refrains from killing max when she rolls her eyes, calls them drama queens, and orders them to get their head in the game. 

++++billy thought he stopped caring about steve harrington when he chose a piece of ass over his best friend. he thought he’d never give a shit about the brunette again, even convinced himself that love he felt turned into hate, but.

then steve pulls some dumbass shit and hops out of the fucking bus to go head-on with a couple slimy dogs and billy just acts without thinking. 

one minute he’s on the bus yelling at the brats to keep it down and the next he’s outside, crowbar in hand, saddling up to harrington and reminding him to plant his fucking feet as they realize how horribly out numbered they are. and he realizes, as he steps between an incoming demodog and his once best friend, that he never did stop loving steve harrington. not for a fucking second.

[catsdaydreams]

King

Chapter 7 of When the Crown Calls. Check out the other chapters here.

Maxwell x mc x Liam

Rated Mature. Like the unsolicited Dick pick my ex just sent me. 

I keep trying to make this whole scene quick, I wanted to end “while you were sleeping” with the end of this event. But the story decided that it wanted more details and kept pushing it out further..

Requested Tags: @decisso @marcela13mars @viktoriapetit

I shook my head and looked him in the eyes, “I don’t back down.” I said, forcing steel into my vice. “No one is going to scare me away from court.” I stated icily.

We looked on as the estate grew ever larger in our vision. The limo pulled around the back of the estate as help came out to grab our bags. “Oh,” said a redheaded servant, noticing me as I stepped out of the limo. She fumbled on her words, “L-Lady Kendra. We weren’t aware of your arrival, we only have one room prepared for Lord Maxwell.”

I smiled politely, “No matter, I supposed Lord Maxwell will have to share.” I said, helping unload the bags. “T-There’s only one bed, M’Lady.” She said, looking appalled. My smile continued, “I’m sure there is an entertaining couch in the suite that he can sleep on, at very worst I’m sure Drake wouldn’t mind a bunk mate.” I said casually, ignoring Maxwell’s protests. 

The servant smiled and nodded as she turned to lead us up to our room. She lead us to an extravagant Victorian themed suite, I noted that the room spared no amenities as the bar was extra stocked. “They sure do know how to make a guest feel welcome.” I chuckled and Maxwell. “Ah yes, this is our best suite, Duchess Adeline insisted that we let Maxwell have this room instead of King Liam.” The servant gushed looking around the room.

I stifled a laugh, and noticed Maxwell’s face paling. “And where is Drakes suite so I know where to crash tonight?” He asked fearfully, making it harder for me not to laugh. The servant lead Maxwell down the hall as I looked through the outfits Bertrand had sent in my suitcase. A form fit wrapped pink dress was folded on top with a note on the top. Maxwell insisted that we do our part to help you. This is designer, and will ensure that your return is all the statement you hope it will be. 

I started for the bathroom when Maxwell re-entered, servant trailing not far behind with a dress bag in tow. “Hey, I brought something for today. Eyes are going to be on you and-” He stopped noticing the pink dress in my hands. “Where did that come from? It’s beautiful. Not exactly what I would wear to make an ‘I’m back bitches’, but still beautiful.” he said, splaying his arms out for effect on his statement.

“Bertrand said it was from you?” I questioned. Maxwell smiled and shook his head, “Good old Bertrand. He wanted to help.” He stated ushering for the dress bag, “however, I think you should save that, and wear this instead.” He pulled out a gorgeous floor length deep blue dress. The top was an embroidered design, and the satin bottom pooled perfectly. 

“Maxwell, where on earth did you get your fashion sense?” I gaped at the gorgeous dress in front of me. Maxwell nodded his head in thanks as the servant slipped out quietly. “I always kind of hoped that the noble girls would take me shopping with them and let me watch them change.” Maxwell admitted. I turned and swatted his arm, “Maxwell Beaumont!” I gasped, giggling. “Hey!” He complained. “I didn’t say it worked,” he muttered.

Maxwell grabbed his suit and entered the bathroom once I had the gown on. I was applying make up as he slipped into his blouse and trousers. “You know you don’t need that.” He mused, as he tied his bow tie. “Somehow, you make that gown impossibly more beautiful.” He said, as I finished applying the final touch of mascara to my blue eyelids. 

I started putting on the diamond necklace and earrings, as Maxwell started fiddling with my hair. I watched as he quickly braided it into a perfectly messy crown braid. I smiled at him, “Let me guess? Another sex tactic?” I said playfully. 

He gave me a sad smile, “No. my mom. She always told me that it would be important to be able to connect with the love of my life on a more intimate level than the average man. She always said that I would have a happier life if I could help my wife with her hair now and then, or cook for her instead of trusting her or servants to do it all the time. She taught me that being together was a partnership and that being able to cross traditional lines might help me have a deeper connection.” 

The melancholy laced in his voice pulled on my heart as he pinned in a loose strand of braid. He met my eyes in the large mirror in front of us, and smiled as he placed a kiss on my shoulder. He took a step back as he lifted his elbow to me. “Are you ready Lady Kendra?”

“I am, Lord Maxwell.”

We made our way to the ballroom and Maxwell stopped me before we entered the doors, “Kendra, a quick word of warning. They have a sunken ballroom, forcing both of the entrances to lead to grand stairs. So, it’s going to be an even more dramatic entrance than you might be thinking.”

I smiled, “How perfect. Honestly with how extra Madeline and her family are, I bet in another life we’d be friends.” I said, squaring my shoulders and raising my chin, nodding to the servants on either side of the door. Maxwell, shook his head and led me in using his usual jovial demeanor. 

Maxwell wasn’t kidding, the over sized doors opened to a beautiful marble grand stairwell. The flashes instantly started, as did the whispers, as we made our way down the steps. At the base of the steps I heard Maxwell whisper some encouragement to me over the barrage of press questions in cordonian. I tried to make out what they were saying.

Being semi-fluent in Greek only gave me a slight advantage, as Cordonian was an older variation of common Greek.  I smiled at a blonde lady waiting patiently at the front of the press for her turn to speak, I motioned to her as the rest of the group lowered there questions to a bearable buzz.

“Lady Kendra,-” She begins but is cut off by a beautiful woman in her thirties pushing her way through the crowd with authority. I notice Maxwell shuffling his feet next to me uncomfortably. “Lord Maxwell,” she begins coyly, “I see you’ve brought a most interesting plus one.” She says looking me from head to toe. Her eyes narrow at our arms linked together. She smiles warmly at me, “It would be a rather boring party without at least a little scandal, hmm Lady Kendra? Welcome to Fydelia.” She says offering up her hand.

“You must be Duchess Adeline.” I smile back,taking her hand suddenly understanding Maxwell’s discomfort. Internally I bristled with jealousy. I spot Penelope and Kiara whispering to each other, eyes wide, over her shoulder. She followed my gaze and gives an amused smile. 

“My daughter will want to greet you personally. You should go and speak to her, I can keep Maxwell entertained in your absence. We have something to discuss anyway.” She said, added an edge to her voice at the end, and staring daggers at Maxwell. 

“I, uh, need to talk to Drake about something.” He says, darting off. I decided to follow suit and make my way around the frowning duchess. I spotted a walking server in the crowd and chased down the flute of champagne I had been eyeing.

Madeline greeted me as I lifted the glass to my lips. “Lady Kendra! I am so glad to see that you are awake, and even discharged!” She feigned joy, “Are you sure that you shouldn’t be home resting.” She said pointedly. I gave her a charming smile, ���I couldn’t miss the engagement tour of not only my king, but a close friend.”

She kept her face neutral, sidling up to me and dropping her breath so that no one could hear but us, “he’s hardly your friend, and Americans don’t have kings. They have presidents.” She seethed. I frowned at her, my volume matching hers, “Cordonia is my home now, and he is very much my friend. I have no intention of attempting to break up your engagement. Congratulations by the way.” I said, taking another sip of champagne. 

Madeline took a moment to study my expression. “Well, I-” she stuttered. “Thank you. Welcome back to court.”

“You know, it was a stupid decision to show up here. It makes the target on your back larger, I’m sure it will make whoever initially set you up more desperate to force you to leave.” She said, matter-of-factly.

I tried to hide my surprise, “You knew I was set up?” She scoffed. “Of course I did. Anyone on the inside track knows that you were too focused on Liam to bother with a side piece. Never-minding the fact that you aren’t exactly Tariq’s type if you know what I mean.”

I gasped, “Tariq’s gay?!” She side eyed me, sipping her champagne. “What, you think all those late night smoke runs with Drake were actually smoke runs?” I frowned further. “Wait, Drake’s gay too?”

She shook her head, “God, you are so clueless. Drake doesn’t discriminate against either gender, and Tariq is practically on fire. He is the fashion coordinator for 95% of the court. Including the royal family.” 

I paused for a moment and thought back on my time at court. “That explains why Drake never smelled like smoke when he came back.” I frowned, kicking myself internally for not noticing it sooner.

Liam appeared at Madeline’s side, slipping a kiss on to her cheek, causing both of to jump. “Darling you scared me,” she gushed. She motioned to me, “look who managed to make it.” Liam met my eyes, concern instantly filling his face. 

“Kendra! What are you doing here? You should be at the Beaumont estate, resting. Not to mention all the press here.” He said irritation on his face, scanning the crowd for what I presumed was Maxwell. “Liam, I’m fine.” Madeline bristled at his almost over concern for my well being. “King Liam.” She corrected me, glaring as she looped her arm through his. “We need to make our rounds, being the couple of the hour is a demanding position.” She said sweetly, continuing her glare.

I nodded politely and brushed past them, lowering my voice for Madeline as I passed. “Claws down kitty cat.” I whispered. Turning my attention to the rest of the room. I noted Maxwell, Drake, and Hana standing with Penelope and Kiara.

Kiara stuck her nose up as I approached, attempting to discreetly pull Penelope away. I rolled my eyes as Penelope gave me a sad wave and walked off with Kiara. I shot her a grateful smile as my friends turned to greet me. “Kendra, you’re awake!” Hana said, pulling me into a deep hug. I relaxed, finally amongst friends. “I thought your parents pulled you out of Court?” I asked. 

She smiled sheepishly, “one of my best friends was in a coma. There was no one that could pull me out of here.” Drake simply took a long sip of his whiskey. “Well you know me, Hernandez. Wherever King Ken-doll goes so do I.” He says, swirling the ice in his glass, bitterness in his voice.

I caught his eye and cocked my head questioningly. He shook his head in response. I suppose I would try to catch him alone later to figure out what was wrong. I turned back to the rest of my friends. “Okay scooby gang, what clues do we have as to who set up Tariq and I?”

Hana gave me a look of surprise, “aren’t you a little more concerned with the person that put you in a coma?” She asked incredulously. I shook my head, “No, Liam has Bastien on it.” 

“King Liam.” Maxwell and Drake corrected simultaneously. I frowned at the two of them. “What is wrong with everyone today. I obviously know he’s the king, but were all on first name bases here. None of us ever use our titles.” 

“It doesn’t matter Kendra. Things are different now that King Liam has been crowned. Even we need to use his title in public. The only person awarded the luxury of a public first name basis is Madeline.” Drake stated.

“To call him Liam in front of anyone at an event like this, is a blatant disrespect to Madeline.” Maxwell shrugged. I nodded in understanding, “that explains the daggers she was staring at me earlier.”

Drake smiled into his glass as he took another swig. “Classic Hernandez.”

“Has anyone seen Tariq?” I asked, attempting not to directly ask Drake. His statement was the best way to discredit the rumors that the photos had started. 

“He left court after that night. He didn’t even make it to the coronation.” Drake mumbled. I frowned, realizing that Drake may have wanted to escort him.

The music signaling the arranged dances began, as per usual I grabbed Maxwell’s hand and led him on the floor. We danced our turn and it was close to switching time, Maxwell leaned into my ear. “Stay with me?” He whispered huskily.

I pulled back to look at his face. “That is incredibly bold, Lord Maxwell.” I giggled. He smiled, “Maybe its all this time hanging around an american.” I leaned into his shoulder, allowing him to pull me a little closer than necessary. It was only then that I realized his next dance partner was supposed to be Adeline. I smirked, putting the appropriate distance between us, as Maxwell frowned.

“Sorry, M’Lord. But this American has enough scandal under her belt.” I said, as we bowed to each other, prepping to switch partners. “Kenze, please. Stay with me.” He pleaded urgently, using the nickname he only used privately. I stifled a laugh. “Have fun with the Duchess.” I whispered, half laughing as I spun to my next partner.

Over the next 3 partners I heard about my own scandal non stop, Two inquires on how I had been so bold as to return to court, and one improper proposition. I sighed, moving onto the next partner not paying attention.

“Well hey there,” familiar arms wrapped around me. I looked up to see Drake smiling down at me. I breathed in relief, “Thank God. Someone who wont ask me about Tariq.” Drake frowned, “Actually,” He started. I shook my head.

“I should have known, Drake Walker doesn’t dance.” I said, annoyed. He glanced around the room. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. A lot has happened in the last year.” He said giving me a twirl. “I could ask the same thing. I know about you and Tariq.” I said quietly. Drake chuckled, “Don’t worry about that. Tariq knew how to have fun, but that’s all it was.”

Drake was surprisingly well versed at these dances for someone who refused to do so. He led me around the floor with ease. “You’re much better at this than Maxwell or King Liam.” I mused. Drake blushed, “yeah, well someone had to teach the two of them.” He muttered. His eyes met mine, searching for something as we bowed to switch. I spun to meet my next dance partner.

I blushed as I met Liam’s gaze. We didn’t speak as we continued the waltz, simply enjoying dancing together. My eyes met Maxwell’s over Liam’s shoulder, his expression hooded.

I frowned as Liam let me into the dip and pulled me flush up against him. “Oh.” I said, breaking the silence between us. “This seems a little close for the dance floor.” I whispered, swaying with the music. I felt his smile, “don’t worry. At this point I think the only one sober enough to notice is Madeline, and she doesn’t mind.” I pulled back, keeping rhythm with the song. “She is your fiancee. Of course she cares.”

Liam let a short breath out of his nose, “This is Cordonia, mi amor.” He said silkily. I was startled at his use of Spanish, his greek accent curling around the words. He noticed my confusion, “You know my native language, I figured the least I could do was learn a few phrases in yours. As I was saying.” He continued.

“Madeline and I have a deal. In the public, we maintain our appearance. But privately, we don’t owe each other anything.” He said, the end of the dance rapidly approaching. “Meet me on the balcony at 12?” He said, bowing his head to me. 

“Ill be sure to leave my glass slippers in my room.” I quipped back. He smiled and kissed my hand politely, as I swung into the arms of Maxwell bringing the dance to a full circle. Signifying the end of the dance.

Oh look, a representation for my life. I thought as Maxwell shot a look of jealousy at Liam.

I wasn’t going to be able to keep this dance up for very long. I was going to have to end it somewhere.

Shit.

Next chapter

[the-zodiacs-written-in-the-stars]

Chapter 6: Mel & Tanya

Tanya was sitting at the bar, enjoying the homemade lemonade – Jamie made such a good lemonade it was insane. Lemons, lime, elderflower and mints. It was probably the most refreshing thing she had ever drunk. Sighing softly, she poked at the mint leafs in her drink with her straw.

“Wanna talk about your day, girlfriend?”, asked Jessie with a smile.

“It was exhausting”, sighed Tanya and looked up at the bartender. “It's just... work. A lot of work.”

“I gotta have a talk with Matt? I will have you know, I will have a talk with him”, warned Jessie.

Tanya smiled fondly and shook her head. Jessie was a wonderful person and one of the reasons Tanya had come to frequent the St. John's Pub. Though to be fair, both St. John siblings gave their regulars this feeling of home. They welcomed everyone and made them feel like they belong.

“Why the hell did you talk to my sister in ASL?”

Both Jessie and Tanya turned toward a frowning Mike. The detective looked very confused. Jessie leaned in, very intrigued in where this was going, casually wiping down the counter.

“Why not?”, countered Tanya, equally confused. “You told me she's mute.”

“...I never... what...?”, grunted Mike, confusion visibly growing.

“You said she can't talk”, disagreed Tanya, one eyebrow raised.

There was a stretch of silence in which Mike just stared at her blankly. “What... No. What. I said she can't talk to pretty girls. I didn't mean that she can't talk at all.”

“That makes no sense”, pointed Tanya out, a frown creasing her eyebrows.

“Mel is what others would call a useless lesbian. Only that she takes it to the extreme”, offered Jessie casually. “She is tongue-tied when a gorgeous woman talks to her. It's amusing.”

“That's ridiculous”, muttered Tanya and shook her head.

“I know”, sighed Mike. “But still. Wait. So... Why do you even speak ASL...?”

“My babushka, she went deaf... fifteen or so years ago? My whole family learned ASL.”

“Your Russian grandma in Russia went deaf so your Russian family in Russia learned American Sign Language...?”, questioned Jessie, both eyebrows raised high.

“Yes, my grandmother who immigrated to Russia fifty years ago to be with my grandfather and never let go of her roots in San Francisco and taught my father and me English, insisted that we learn American Sign Language”, replied Tanya with a neutral look.

“Oh”, hummed Jessie and nodded. “Cool. So, Mike, why does your sister know ASL?”

“I don't know. She was bored one afternoon and decided to learn ASL after binge-watching Switched at Birth because learning a new language is what that geek defines as a hobby”, shrugged Mike with an eye-roll.

“That is very impressive”, stated Tanya, eyebrows raised.

“Not when you consider she's fluent in like nine languages and can't talk to pret...”, started Jessie in a snarky voice before trailing off. “Wait. Wait, you talked to her? Like, had a conversation?”

“Yes?”, confirmed Tanya confused.

“That's it!”, exclaimed Mike excitedly, hitting the bar with his fist and startling the girls. “So, all we have to do is find a nice lesbian who's fluent in ASL for my sister and then it'll all work out.”

“I mean, it narrows down the pool, but...”, drawled Jessie unimpressed.

“Well, it's not like I know a lot of lesbians to begin with”, huffed Mike frustrated.

“I feel summoned. What are we talking about?”, asked Babs as she returned from serving beer.

“See. There she is, the only lesbian I know”, grunted Mike, vaguely motioning at Babs.

Blinking a couple of times, Babs hopped onto the bar, on Mike's other side. Tanya tilted her head and looked at the waitress. Babara was cute, in a dorky way. With the neon-green dyed hair put up into two pig-tails usually, lipstick and nail-polish in matching shades of magenta as always. She had very distracting boobs, if Tanya was being honest.

“And... why exactly isn't the only lesbian you know a match for your lesbian sister?”, asked Tanya curiously. “Does it have anything to do with the fact that lesbians do require more than just shared sexuality to work out as a relationship...?”

“Eh”, huffed Mike with a dismissive hand-gesture. “No. It's that Mel's a college professor and Babs is her student and that's a total no-go for Mel. So, Babs is out of the game. I mean, I had hopes for Jessie, but... straight people exist.”

Babs opened her mouth to answer, but Jessie beat her to the punch. The barkeeper lifted a hand to silence Tanya before leaning forward against the bar, leveling Mike with an unimpressed look.

“Don't tell me you forgot sexuality isn't black and white. Straight and gay. We literally got all the colors of the rainbow to play with, you know?”, chuckled Jessie. “Remember when I told you I'm not interested in women? Let me guess, you concluded I'm straight.”

“Well... something tells me you aren't. And that something is the judgmental look on your face”, offered Mike, sitting up with a frown.

“I'm not interested in women. But I'm also not interested in men”, replied Jessie with a shrug. “I identify as aroace. Aromantic and asexual. I aspire to become an old cat-lady.”

“Right. That's a thing. I saw it on that show Mattie loves watching so much”, muttered Mike embarrassed. “Never heard of it before. So I kinda... didn't... think about it.”

“Why am I not surprised that the gay archer who loves his men tall, dark and handsome watches Shadowhunters?”, mused Babs teasingly, kicking her legs back and forth. “I bet he has a total crush on Alec Lightwood. He does, right?”

“I'm not talking about that with you”, grumbled Mike frustrated.

“What did you girls do to him? He looks miserable.”

Tanya rolled her eyes just a little at how much Mike's face brightened up when Jamie poked his head out of the kitchen. His shoulder-long, light-brown hair was pulled up in a bun, some strands falling into his freckled face. Mike stared at him like he really wanted to brush the hair out of Jamie's face and then trace the freckles. Honestly, Mike and Matt were pretty pathetic. Jamie walked over to Mike and put a container with most likely two burgers and fries down.

“Thank you, Jamie. You're a life-saver”, sighed Mike. “I'm starving and me and Rick are gonna be busy throughout our break too probably...”

“Can't let our police-force starve”, chuckled Jamie, amusement in his dark eyes. “Make sure to take better care of yourself though.”

Mike just nodded, looking after Jamie as the cook disappeared back into his kitchen. “Anyway. I should get back to work. See you around, Tanya?”

“As always”, sighed Tanya, waving dismissively as Mike left the pub.

She raised both eyebrows as Jessie and Babs seemed to be zooming in on her. Jessie cocked her head in a nearly judgmental way and crossed her arms over her chest, while Babs grinned.

“So, why didn't you mention that you're not straight?”, asked Babs teasingly. “Mel not your type?”

“For one, I don't make a habit of flaunting my sexuality in everybody's face”, grunted Tanya unimpressed. “And for another, I will not be used by Mike to be set up with his sister. She seemed nice and all, but this is not the way I will find a partner.”

“Girl”, sighed Jessie, both eyebrows raised. “You're already fishing in both ponds but you're still single. I don't think you have a way to find a partner.”

“I will not be sassed about my lack of love-life by you, of all people”, huffed Tanya.

“Oh come o—on, it's like one of life's joys when you're ace”, pouted Jessie.

~*~

Melanie straightened her glasses as she put another paper down. She was getting good work done today. Maybe she'd even finish grading them all today. That would be nice.

“Hello, Melanie. Your hair looks nice today.”

...That would be it for her papers. Sighing, Melanie looked up at his brother's obsession. “James.”

James St. John was a handsome man, though Melanie attributed that to the fact that he looked a lot like his younger sister Jessica. Pale, freckled skin, lean body, soft, brown hair and dark, green eyes. They also both had that same smirk, filled with mischief and something foreboding. James grinned pleased at Melanie as he got comfortable on the seat opposite of hers.

“I was wondering if maybe you could do me just the smallest, tiniest favor, perhaps.”

“What is it?”, asked Melanie with a heavy sigh.

She liked James alright. He was kind, amusing and a brilliant cook. On top of it all, she knew what a huge crush Mikey and Matt both had on the guy. And there was one thing Mel had always been, supportive of her siblings and accepting of their love-interests.

“You know the kids who always come here for warm meals?”, asked James carefully, a serious look on his face. “Their names are Ally and Andy. They're orphans. Ran away from the same foster-home together. And, well, at first... it was just warm meals. Then a dry place to stay and... they kind of stopped leaving and the guest room kind of turned into an actual bedroom for them and now I'm fighting my way through the process of becoming a foster-parent. And, well, I figured it'd leave a better impression if I'd actually get the kids back into school.”

“That's... very admirable”, nodded Melanie surprised. “And... what kind of help do you need?”

“It's...”, started James before he sighed and rubbed his face. “Ally's fourteen. Andy's nine. They're... behind. They've been living on the streets for over a year now. And honestly, I'm... lost. I dropped out of high school for a reason. I ain't that kinda person. Neither is Jessie. You're a figure of authority, you're a teacher, you're passionate about learning. I've heard you rant to Babs about it. I thought maybe... you could talk to them? From a different perspective.”

Melanie frowned. This was not exactly what an English literature professor did, but she could see the despair in Jamie's eyes. He was clearly frustrated and clearly trying his best. And it wasn't like she didn't understand where he was coming from.

“Okay. How about you introduce me to your young charges and I'll see if I can help?”, offered Mel.

Jamie offered a grateful smile before he got up and left for upstairs, where Jamie, Jessie and Babara were living. Moments later and he returned with two kids. The girl older, with long, tight curls and Polynesian features, skin a light shade of nougat and eyes guarded as she glared around the room. The boy next to her was younger than her, he was black, with short hair and what looked like lightning-bolts shaved into the side of his temples.

“Guys, this is Melanie. She, uh, offered to sit down with you and see if she can help with your school work”, introduced Jamie, one hand on the girl's back.

“Hello, ma'am”, greeted the boy, holding his hand out to shake hers.

“Such a polite young man”, smiled Melanie, biting her lip as she shook his head.

Jamie grinned brightly at that and shrugged. “I'll leave you to it.”

Ally glared wearily as she sat down opposite Melanie. She was wearing a hoodie such a pale shade of red that it matched her coral-necklace, her hands buried deep in the front-pocket of the hoodie. She was it like armor, Melanie was more than familiar with that. Compared to Ally, Andy seemed far more open and also eager, leaning forward curiously.

“So, the two of you don't want to go to school?”, asked Melanie.

Andy opened his mouth to answer, but a side-glance from Ally made him close his mouth. Melanie offered a wry smile and leaned back, pushing her glasses up as she watched them for a long moment. Andy had large, soft-brown eyes, making him look innocent and inquisitive.

“Okay, I have two theories here”, started Melanie slowly after a few minutes of watching the siblings and their body-language. “Wanna hear them?”

“Whatever”, muttered Ally dismissively.

Melanie hummed and tilted her head. “One is the fact that James isn't certified as a foster-parent yet. Going to school means settling it. It means growing comfortable here, to make friends. But if James won't become your foster-father after all, you'll have to run away again. And running away hurts more when you have someone to leave behind. Friends.”

Ally stared at her surprised, then wearily. “It's... not that we don't trust Jamie. But the system's rigged and I don't need to try if it's just gonna be a waste of time.”

“I get that”, replied Melanie and nodded.

“Right”, snorted Ally, slipping down further in her seat.

“I'm an orphan too, you know”, hummed Melanie casually, tilting her head. “But I was already eighteen when my parents died. But my younger brother, he was... he was about your age, Ally. He was thirteen back then. And our younger sister was ten. I had to fight to get to keep my siblings. Social workers didn't think an eighteen year old girl would be able to take care of two children, work and go to school. My younger siblings acted up, because they were afraid too. They were afraid to be taken away and they didn't know how to cope.”

Ally slowly seemed to relax a little bit. “So... how... did they cope?”

Melanie shrugged and tilted her head. “They had to trust me. I... One night, they found me crying in my room, because I really, really didn't know how I could do it. I thought I wouldn't be good enough for them, because they were acting out, that maybe it would be best for them if they got a second chance with someone who could be a parent for them. I was trying my best, but I was all alone and I didn't know how to do this because I had never done this before. That night, they realized that... that they were afraid and hurting, but... so was I. Just because I was older than them didn't know I really knew what I was doing.”

“And what did they do then?”, asked Andy, leaning forward so much on his chair, Melanie feared the boy would just fall off any moment. “Could they help you? Did it work out?”

That made Melanie sigh and shake her head. “Mikey, my brother, he... wanted to actually help. He thought that he had to do something, so he suddenly decided he had to work beside school and help out. But that's not... The way you can help is by listening to James. What he's saying about school is right. School is important and if he can show off that he has you enrolled in a school, integrated into the community, that he's taking care of you, it will make him look better. I understand that unlike me, James isn't alone in this. He has his sister and I believe Babara certainly helps out too, but he'll really rely on you two being cooperative. You want to stay with James, right?”

Both children nodded at that, still looking at her like she held all the answers in the universe. Ally bit her lips and looked at Melanie wearily, like she was trying to sort her thoughts to ask a specific question. Melanie slowly took a drink from her tea, patiently waiting for Ally to be ready to ask whatever it was that was on her mind. They were good kids, both of them.

“What... happened with your siblings?”, asked Ally finally. “Did they get to stay with you?”

“They did”, confirmed Melanie with a small smile. “We... worked hard, together, to make it work.”

“And what do they do now?”, wanted Andy to know eagerly. “Your siblings?”

“Mikey is a cop”, replied Melanie, smile growing with pride. “He's a regular at the bar too. You surely have seen him around before. He looks really grumpy very often and has black hair like me.”

Andy's mouth formed an o as he nodded. “And your little sister?”

Melanie's face fell some as she blinked. “Mack... She's living in New York. Sadly, we don't have a lot of contact anymore, because she lives so far away, but I'm sure she's very happy with her life.”

Ally looked skeptical, like she didn't believe a word Melanie was saying. In the end, the girl allowed Melanie that little lie and just got up from her seat, motioning for her brother to follow.

“Come on, Andy. Let's see what Jamie's doing in the kitchen. I'm hungry”, hummed Ally.

“Oh, yes! Burger!”, demanded Andy excitedly and rushed past his sister.

Melanie smiled fondly but sadly as, for just a moment when she looked at the two children, she felt reminded of Michael and Mackenzie all those years ago. It's been a long journey for them and it was going to be a long journey for Ally and Andy, but considering everything Melanie knew about the Saint John siblings, she knew Ally and Andy would be fine with them.

~*~

Tanya wanted to get a head-start before going over things with Mike and Matt. They needed to meet to discuss what to do. They had superpowers, supposedly so, they had a kind of duty. What to do with it, that was what the three of them had to decide.

Tanya was so tempted. Aquarius had already shown her that this whole deal came with a costume. Only later did Aquarius tell her that she could or should have gone for armor. Instead, Tanya had gone for fashionable. A short, sleeveless dress made out of dragon-skin that actually looked like the scales of Aquarius – a matching shade of turquoise. It was tight and short, giving her more room to move. And it had a cape, because heroes had capes, okay? The high heels on the boots were most likely not the most effective things, but she hadn't walked in flats in at least ten years, so that would be even more impractical for her personally, so there was that. At least the costume was heat-resistant because it was dragon-skin. No dragons had been harmed in the making of it though, since it was all magic. But at least that justified the cape some, because she could use it for hiding from fire and extreme heat. Generally, she loved the costume her subconsciousness had come up with.

The weapon that had come with it though...

A broad-sword with a zig-zagged blade. A vicious thing. Tanya did like how impactful it was, but she wasn't entirely sure about wielding it just yet. She could make it work, because she did know how to use a sword, at least the basics of it, it was just different from any sword she had ever worked with. She had studied the blade, sword-dancing had been a hobby of hers as a teenager.

“Okay. Teach me about my powers”, requested Tanya seriously.

Aquarius tilted her head curiously. “You do want to become a hero.”

“Yeah”, confirmed Tanya hesitantly. “I... suppose so. This power wasn't granted to us for us to stick our heads in the sand... And at the very least, I want to know what I'm capable of.”

Tilting her head into the other direction, Aquarius nodded pleased. That dragon was way too cute.

“There are twelve Zodiacs. They're assigned to the four elements, three Zodiacs hold powers of each element”, started Aquarius and stretched out, resting her chin and her front-paws on Tanya's lap to make her scratch Aquarius' head. “Taurus, Virgo and Capricorn are the signs of earth, Sagittarius, Leo and Aries are the signs of fire, Cancer, Pisces and Scorpio are the signs of water and Gemini, Libra and I are the signs of air.”

“Right. So, who was drunk when they decided that the literal water-bearer should be assigned air?”, asked Tanya with a frown, scratching Aquarius behind the ear.

“I'm a water-dragon”, chimed Aquarius. “I spit water, not fire. And I am a dragon. I fly. Air. So, it's a bit mixed. Guess that led to confusions. It's why one of your predecessors had such a weird myth around her birth. With the whole daughter of the sky – air – and the ocean – water. Which, I guess, works as me creating her to be a hero.”

“So, what powers do I have?”, asked Tanya, frown deepening even more.

“Air”, hummed Aquarius, relaxing under Tanya's fingers and making purring sounds.

“What does that even mean?”, sighed Tanya and leaned back on her couch. “Fire, water, even earth, they all seem to have some nice possibilities. What can I do with air?”

“Many of your predecessors could fly”, offered Aquarius casually. “Air is everywhere. You can do so much with it. The only limit is your imagination. You can manipulate the molecules in the air. You can solidify it, or thin it out until it's hard to breath. You can manipulate the temperature of the air, really, there is a lot you can do with it. You just have to... try.”

“Okay. Let's maybe not start with flying”, suggested Tanya concerned. “I feel like it would not end well if I'd jump off a building right now. The rest sounds interesting enough to work with. How?”

“I don't know”, hummed Aquarius with a yawn, closing her eyes. “Concentrate. Just do it.”

“...That's not helpful”, sighed Tanya, the frown returning.

“How would you explain breathing to someone else?”, shrugged Aquarius. “It's that. It's... It's just something you can do. Something I have always been able to do. It's... Just do it.”

It would be easier to be irritated if Aquarius didn't look this adorable when pouting. Sighing, Tanya continued scratching Aquarius behind the ears until the dragon fell asleep in her lap. Okay. Just do it. It couldn't be that hard. She just had to... do it. Somehow.

Maybe if she approached it like a mime? Solidifying air by forming it. Closing her eyes, Tanya focused on visualizing it. Visualizing firm, solid glass beneath her fingers, instead of air. She pressed the flat of her hand against nothing and kept concentrating, until... until it was solid. Her eyes snapped open as she stared stunned at the air. There was nothing visible, but the air still felt like it had turned into solid glass. Removing her hand, Tanya kept staring. Tentatively, she knocked against the air – and it actually worked. It was still solid. Okay. She could work with this.

And fighting supervillains with actual superpowers seemed far more realistic than simply with a sword. Maybe they could do that. She wasn't sure of it just yet, because the thought was scary, but... there were villains, literal villains, hurting innocent people. And the three of them belonged to the twelve only people on the planet who could do something. They had to.

~*~

“Okay. This feels utterly ridiculous, Taurus”, sighed Melanie softly.

“It only feels ridiculous because you had to go to your brother's place to find a big enough plant”, pointed Taurus out.

Melanie grumbled, her cheeks flushing. She wasn't good with plants. Apparently, that was now going to change, thanks to her Zodiac and his powers. Or at least, Taurus said so. Melanie wasn't quite sure – which was why they had gone to Mike and Matt's. Melanie knew the couple weren't home, they would be gone the entire weekend, staying at Matt's parents'. And Melanie had a key to their gorgeous Victorian-style house. She loved that house a lot. Two stories, an attic, a basement, a backyard and winter garden. Sure, Matt was rich, it figured he wouldn't want to live in a shack.

She often came to their house, even when they weren't home. Neither of them had a problem with it, Matt had an actual library and it had proven very useful for work. Also, Melanie just felt happy when she was surrounded by books, so there was that.

There was the master bedroom, the office space and two more bedrooms on the first floor, aside from the library. One of those bedrooms belonged to Matt's little sister. She regularly came to stay for a weekend in Los Angeles with her big brother, or spent the holidays, so Matt and Mike had simply converted one room to be all hers. And she loved it. The other bedroom was a guestroom, where Melanie found herself staying regularly too. Sometimes because she worked too long in their library and forgot about time, other times she would stay over after a movie night or something.

But what Melanie was seeking out was on the first floor. Oh, Melanie really did love this house. A sitting room in the center of the first floor, connected to the guest bathroom, the kitchen, dining room, living room – and the winter garden. Which was exactly why she was there today.

“Okay. Tell me what to do”, prompted Melanie with a frown as they reached the winter garden.

It was a long room, with window-walls all around. Fresh beautiful flowers and plants all over, as well as four deckchairs. The sun perfectly fell into the winter garden. Matt liked laying here to read, Melanie knew that. She had spent hours laying with him, enjoying the sun on her face and the book in her hand. She was getting along really well with her future brother-in-law. Something she was eternally grateful for, because the idea of not getting along with the person her brother loved...? Horrible to imagine. Coming here as she pleased, spending time with them both.

Taurus was standing awkwardly between two small palms, ducking beneath them. He wasn't tall, reaching just above Melanie's hips. His fur was a soft mossy-green and had the soft texture of moss too. His horns were massive and curved, a lush, emerald green just like his eyes and the symbol on his forehead – the symbol of Taurus. He ducked his head further, nudging a potted plant.

“Take the leaves between your hands. Close your eyes and focus”, ordered Taurus.

“Focus on... what?”, asked Melanie with a frown, caressing the plant's leaf.

“The plant. The life inside”, suggested Taurus. “Feel it. Like... another presence. Like another person in here. You can talk to it. Control it. Make it grow.”

Melanie frowned, clearly annoyed and frustrated. How could she make something grow? By... imagining it? She had never been a very visual person, she was better with words.

“The thick, green leaf, a soft color because it was still so young, it was strong. Strong enough to grow”, muttered Melanie beneath her breath, imagining it. “It could grow stronger, bigger. It-”

She startled and opened her eyes to stare at the plant. The thick leaf had grown, was now nearly twice its size. Okay. That was interesting. Tilting her head, Melanie tried to influence the plant – and the leaf turned into the direction Melanie wanted it to. Smiling softly, Melanie caressed the leaf. It felt... happy? Why... How could she feel a plant? Oh, this wasn't good. She was already vegetarian, if she could now communicate with plants, what was left to eat...?

“This is amazing, Taurus”, whispered Melanie. “With this and the suit and the additional strength that you can give me... I... I could actually do something. Be... a hero...?”

“Of course. That is precisely what I have been saying since the beginning”, confirmed Taurus.

The two of them talked animatedly with each other, Melanie being lost in all the possibilities of her powers, until suddenly, she had a steak-knife to the throat. Okay, she definitely needed better reflexes if she wanted to be a hero. With wide, frightened eyes did Melanie slowly turn around to face her attacker. Tanya Tarasova stared at her threateningly until recognition set in. Her eyes widened in surprise before the blonde backed off and essentially dropped the knife.

“Ni figa cebe!”, cussed Tanya as she slowly calmed down. [trans, Russian: holy shit]

Melanie just stared at her in surprise. Tanya took a deep breath, just to freeze and stare wide-eyed... at the large, green bull. Oh. Melanie gulped. This was super not going according to plans.

“That... you are a...”, whispered Tanya in disbelief.

She ran her fingers through her sunny-blonde hair, disheveling it a little. It was so perfect and exactly in place, but some strands falling out of the bun also looked really good. Melanie blushed.

“Taurus!”

Melanie jumped. The sudden high-pitched female voice startled her. So did the bright, turquoise light. It was what happened next that nearly made Melanie faint. A dragon. A real-life dragon. Sitting upright, it reached easily up to her waist. And it was utterly adorable. With dots all over, shades of turquoise and two zigzag lines on her forehead. The dragon yelped happily and jumped on top of Taurus, hugging the green bull. Taurus tilted his head, nudging the dragon.

“Aquarius. What a nice surprise”, hummed Taurus gently.

“Wait. Aquarius. Like. The Zodiac?”, blurted Melanie out, eyes large.

She turned to look at Tanya in surprise, though the blonde was just staring at the bull. “Taurus. Wait. That means... you have a Zodiac companion too? Oh, that explains a to. Mike's been complaining that you've been behaving 'weird'. It's because you have a secret.”

“Well, you have a dragon!”, exclaimed Melanie, pointing at Aquarius. “An adorable dragon, but a dragon! H—How...”

“Oh, I like her. She said I'm adorable”, declared Aquarius pleased.

Tanya just shook her head. “Matt and Mike are not going to believe it...”

“We can't tell them!”, exclaimed Melanie. “I can't drag my baby brother into this!”

“I'm sorry, but it's kind of too late. The snarky, blue crab dragged him into it”, chuckled Tanya, eyes twinkling. “Mike and Matt have companions too.”

“...Is that why Mike has been so distracted lately?”, whispered Melanie in realization.

“Yes”, confirmed Tanya, an amused smile on her lips. “This is going to be good. But wait, what are you doing here...? Matt and Mike are visiting Matt's family.”

“I know. I... uh... I have Earth-powers and... wanted to test them, but I don't own any plants”, admitted Melanie a little embarrassed, cheeks heating up.

“You don't own a single plant?”, asked Tanya, laughing softly.

“Oh, shut up”, grumbled Melanie flustered. “What are you doing here?”

“I'm Matt's assistant. I often come here, to drop off documents from work or get stuff he leaves here for me”, replied Tanya with a shrug. “He called me, told me he signed some important stuff before him and Mike left and that it was in the office.”

Melanie nodded and sat down on one of the chairs. Tanya sat down next to her, looking mainly amused. This was a lot to digest. She just hoped she'd have it digested by the time her brother returned home from his weekend trip. And in all the excitement, she didn't even really register that she had just spoken to a beautiful woman without stumbling over her own words...

Read here on AO3!

Previous Chapter <- || Masterpost || -> Next Chapter

[adelmortescryche]

yoimafiaweek - day 7

AN: Ack, I hope I’m not too late with my submission, @yoimafiaweek! This is what happens when you get caught between two really different ideas. Well, anyway, here’s my fill for day 7! I’m going with ‘Identity Reveal’, since it’s a free day. What a week this has been. *grins*

Premise: Have some podium family fluff/humor, and Yuri P.’s POV! This follows his journey to figure out why something about Yuuri, the Katsuki family and Hasetsu as a whole seems... Very... Strange. There’s no way in hell Katsudon’s in the yakuza. Right?

Warnings in advance for language and attitude in this one: Yurio’s got one hell of a potty mouth. Nothing too explicit, but there’s a whole load of f bombs all through his narrative.

Whatever the hell Yuri had been expected when he finally got around to joining the pig and Victor in the hot springs, it sure as fuck hadn’t been the humongous red dragon tattooed on the pig’s back.

“Eh? Are you okay, Yurio?”

The pig actually had the fucking gall to look confused.

Victor barely looked phased, damn him. And it only got worse when they actually headed out to the bathing area. He still remembered Yuuko and the triplets’ dumb lectures about why you weren’t supposed to stare at people in the hot springs, but it was a little hard to actually not look at anyone when at least fifty percent of the people around him were inked up in places where their clothes could cover it, just like the pig.

“I though the Japanese were supposed to be prudes about shit like tattoos,” he hissed at the old man under his breath, but Victor just gave a gay little laugh.

“Oh, but Yuuri and his family are really open-minded! I’ve been to hot springs before when I’ve come to Japan for competitions, Chris dragged me out on a free day between events, but I barely saw anyone with this much ink then.”

Yuri just had to stare up at him in silent incredulity for a moment. Because, really, wasn’t that a fucking sign that there was something fucking wrong with the picture here?

And by that point the pig was headed back their way, towel over his shoulder. Which, god, he didn’t get the Japanese at all. Katsuki was such a wimp and jumping at shadows all of the time, having a sick look flashing across his face when he noticed the barest pudge around his middle in reflective surfaces, freaking out when Victor touched his cloth covered shoulder, and he didn’t even hesitate to roam about with his dick out when they were in the baths? He couldn’t figure out if the older skater was body conscious or not, at this point.

He’d probably lose the pudge. Yuri hadn’t been around for more than a week in the Podunk little town Victor had chosen to set up in, and he could already tell Katsuki was a stamina monster of the worst kind. He had the flab to burn, but one look at his mom had told Yuri that Katsuki’s pudge was genetic, and not necessarily letting himself go since he’d fucking given up on skating.

The news about his retirement had shaken Yuri hard, because he sure as hell hadn’t been expecting it to come out. So he’d had a bad skate day. It sucked balls. Didn’t mean he couldn’t lift himself off the floor and get back to it, right?

He’d suspected Yuuri was a yellow bellied coward until he’d taken the flight to Hasetsu to see whether or not Victor had just followed his libido to fucking Japan. And while he still thought Victor might very well have followed his libido like originally assumed, he… could already tell there was something more going on, there. Well, whatever. Sure, he’d be disappointed irritated if the pig actually decided to go cold turkey and drop everything, but to be really honest, he was more interested in getting that program Victor promised him. He’d cut it out of the old man’s balding hide with his skates if he had to damnit.

Yuuri sank into the water beside them with a long sigh, the line of his frame wet and lithe as he slicked his hair back with both hands and leaned into the edge of the pool, staring up at the sky with a sharp look in his eyes. Victor made a choking sound, not able to tear his gaze away, and Yuri rolled his eyes, aiming a kick at his hip.

The wounded sound he got in response was fully worth the put upon look the pig shot them both.

*

It wasn’t just in the springs, though. Yuri was willing to bet anything that there was something up in Hasetsu. Or, if not the town as a whole, then definitely in Yu-topia Katsuki. Which, really, that was such a shitty play on the pig’s name. He hadn’t found it cool or anything, seriously. So lame.

But, anyway.

Something was up. He could have sworn that at least a few men the pig’s dad drank and cracked jokes with in the night were inked from head to toe. Well, every covered bit of them, anyway, when they weren’t pulling their long sleeves back because of the damp air sitting heavy in the dining area. They all looked the rough sort, but it hadn’t actually registered right after he got to Hasetsu – a combination of the facts that, not only were they really friendly with anyone staying at the inn under Yuuri Katsuki’s name, but also that they… didn’t really look rough to him. He was probably being naive about it, but how the hell was he supposed to know how gangsters looked anywhere else in the world? He barely knew what they looked like in St. Petersburg or Moscow – he just knew what sections of the cities to avoid while out on his own to avoid trouble. That had always been how it went no matter where he went – you couldn’t trust movies or books to tell you what trouble looked like, but you sure as hell could avoid trouble by not heading out to places the actual residents in a city avoided on a good day.

And, anyway, it was probably better he didn’t go to those places. Yuri knew himself, he knew how likely he was to pick a fight with someone just because they looked at him too long or funny. And he couldn’t afford to get shanked in an alley for being dumb, he had his dedushka (дедушка) to think about, damnit. And he was getting old.

So, yeah. He never really registered that the pig’s father’s friends looked ‘rough’. Not until this one time he saw one of the really old guys gesturing at something in the newspaper with a fucking knife, relatively longer blade and everything which, holy shit, and not one person in the room actually reacted. Well, no, that wasn’t true. A couple of the guests who’d come down from a bigger city for a weekend off or some shit went white and looked away immediately, murmuring to each other. That was actually what had made Yuri curious, really. He’d been taking his cues from Victor, but the old man had more air in his head than anything else. Unless you spoke about skating or Victorian Literature, or Romanticism or – yeah. The old man was an air head if it wasn’t literature or skating. Or Yuuri, but he just got more airheaded then, didn’t he?

Bottom line, he probably shouldn’t have been taking his cues from Victor. But even if he had been doing that, he had to admit, the people who showed up at the inn each night… weren’t bad people. Even if they were rougher than Yuri had actually registered until that point.

No, what actually had him confused was what role the pig had to play in all of it. Because asking him outright had just netted Yuri a faint smile. Asking Yuuko had earned him a giggle, and her husband had just rolled his eyes, saying Yuri was better off not thinking about it.

The triplets had just laughed at him. He actually missed when the little hellions were too busy gasping and taking pictures of him and Victor all the time – now that they’d gotten over the momentary hero worship they were downright scary irritating.

At least he got why the pig got that look on his face whenever he caught sight of them filming things on the side of the rink and giggling at each other, now.

*

Actually looking it up on Google had just confused him further. Because Japan and tattoos and springs just got him a whole bunch of yakuza discourse and why people in Japan were so uneasy about tattoos.

Irezumi was gorgeous, he had to admit. That said- no. Just, no way. The fucking pork cutlet bowl couldn’t be a gangster goddamnit, it made no sense.

There had to be something else going on and he was going to get to the bottom of it if it was the last thing he did.

Fuck.

*

“Make sure Victor doesn’t get in over his head, okay?” he growled at Yuuko, when she caught him just before he headed to the airport.

She tilted her head to the side, that same blandly amused smile he’d seen on Katsudon’s face flitting across her lips. It made him hunch his shoulders up instinctively, because thinking about Katsudon right then wasn’t very nice. The look on Victor’s face when he stared out at the rink had sent a sick wave through Yuri’s gut, but even he had to admit that the kind of meteoric rise Yuuri had made overnight meant Victor sticking around could only benefit him.

He’d get one hell of an opponent to beat out of the bargain, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Victor was unchanging, he’d always been there. For all that he respected thought that Katsudon’s skate skills were worth something, losing Victor to the cause just pissed him off.

At least he’d be back at some point. Right? Right. And Katsudon would just follow him wherever he went, so there was that. He’d get them both. To skate against, obviously, that’s all they were worth, but he’d get them both.

“I don’t know what the fu- I don’t know what’s going on here, but Victor’s an idiot. You control the pig to some extent, right. Make sure Victor doesn’t get hurt.” Yuri demanded, point blank, and Yuuko’s face softened to something that almost looked fond.

Ugh.

“That doesn’t mean that I’m not going to win! I don’t care what weird shit Katsudon’s involved in, but it doesn’t make him a better skater than me! Tell them I’ll see them on the ice. Dasvidaniya (До свида́ния).”

His piece said, he turned around and walked away.

*

That sure as hell didn’t mean he stopped thinking about it, though. Lilia and Yakov put him through hell, as did learning and training his free skate. And streamlining his Agape, which Yakov had looked pleased with, when he’d gotten back to St. Petersburg and showed him what he’d learnt.

“You’ve gotten soft, Yura,” Mila teased, and he tuned her out. And tuned Georgi’s dramatics behind her.

He hadn’t gotten soft. He’d just hardened up where it counted. So there.

But, like he said, it was kind of hard to not keep thinking about the old man and the pig. Especially when he was training Agape, for some reason. Yakov had gotten a strange look on his face when he’d complained about that, but at least he’d settled in to listen when Yuri complained. After training, mind you, he’d have gotten yelled right back onto the ice if he’d tried to say anything during training.

His complaints had just gotten him a weird look, though.

“Yura, you’re being paranoid,” he sighed, once Yuri was done. It made Yuri flare up dramatically in response, but Yakov just got a hand on the top of his head, and his voice cut off immediately when he noticed the look in his coach’s eyes.

It wasn’t pure disbelief, just… bemusement. And irritation, yes, but that as Yakov all the time every time. He had to keep an eye on too many skaters, and with people like Mila and Georgi around, obviously he was going to be irritated. Those two were such a fucking pain. And Victor, but thinking about Victor just made Yakov blow up most of the time.

Yuri complaining about the sheer weirdness of the Katsuki family and the guests at their inn was about the only time he didn’t blow up, actually.

Maybe he just didn’t know how to react? Who the fuck knew.

“Get back to Lilia’s home quickly, and rest. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow,” he said, and Yuri nodded, scowl firmly in place.

*

He didn’t need to be believed by his rink mates or coach. Hell, Katsudon and Yuuko had all but confirmed that something was up in the way they quietly ignored all his questions. So, whatever.

He’d just ask Chulanont and that American skater about it- he’d followed observed enough of the pig’s career to know whom he spoke to off of the ice. Even if the American didn’t know about it, Chulanont definitely would, and at least one of them had to make it to the final, right? Right. If they were both pathetic enough that they didn’t get till the end he’d just message Chulanont over Instagram.

And after the pig’s disgustingly good performance during his short program, he’d definitely make it till Rostelecom, at the least. Yuri was going to find some way to murder people with the power of his mind if he didn’t.

*

“Yakuza?” Chulanont repeated with a grin, the night before the short program. “I don’t know whom you’ve been speaking to, little Yuri, but have you seen my boy? He wouldn’t hurt a fly!”

“That’s not what I asked and you know it,” Yuri grunted, scowl in place.

Chulanont just laughed and waved him off, turning around and walking away. Probably to go spend some time catching up with ‘his boy’. Fucking disgusting, is what it was.

Why the fuck wasn’t anyone willing to take him at his word, damnit. He already knew Yuuri wouldn’t hurt a fly. Unless he was going through a bout of self-doubt, or some shit, in which case all bets were off. But Yuri knew he wouldn’t go out of his way to hurt anyone. Not unless they deserved it, anyway.

Or, at least, that’s what he thought till he ran into Victor in the corridor the night after the short skate, red eyed and wet cheeked. He’d been hanging out with Beka, and just going back to his room after Yakov had yelled at him on the phone about curfews for a while. The sight made his brows rise, bemused. Because he had to be seeing things, right.

Well, he thought he was seeing things until Victor hurriedly wiped his eyes and gave him a wide, cheesy and disgustingly fake grin, anyway.

“Ok, what the fuck.” He snapped, making the older man laugh.

“It’s nothing, Yurio. What are you doing outside your room, though? Little kittens should be asleep by now!”

The words made him snarl and aim a punch at Victor’s stomach, but for once, the old man actually caught Yuri’s fist in his hand, the smile fracturing just a bit before he pasted it back in place.

“I’ve had a really long night,” he said, “and I think I need a drink. And you need to sleep. You should get back to your room before you worry Yakov.”

Don’t say that when you look like you’re going to start crying if I leave you and go, Yuri threw at him mentally, but no way in fuck was he going to say it out loud.

“Did the pig finally fess up about being a gangster or some shit?” he snapped instead, just putting it out there, and stopped short when Victor’s hand actually tightened around his wrist, his eyes going wide for a split second before he got them back under control.

Whoa, okay. Not what he’d fucking expected.

“You should get to bed, Yura,” Victor said, and after staring up at him for a few more moments, Yuri gave a slow nod. And backed off.

*

“My dad’s family’s old school yakuza, yeah,” Yuuri said with a bemused smile, the morning after the banquet. Over fucking breakfast, of all things.

Chulanont, who’d dropped in to join them for breakfast along with Giacometti and Beka, made a choking sound.

“Yuuri,” he wailed, sounding heartbroken, and Yuuri started laughing, damn him.

“I knew it!” Yuri declared, vindicated, pumping a fist in the air. And made to jump straight over the table between them when Katsudon turn that razor-like grin his way.

Beka caught him by the hem of his jacket and pulled him back down into his seat. He turned a wounded look on the older teen, and got a single shoulder shrug in response. Which, okay. Okay. He wouldn’t make a scene, damnit.

But it was so damn tempting. He wanted to bash the pig’s face in.

“Yuuri said that the Katsuki clan takes care of Hasetsu,” Victor explained, curled up right against Yuuri’s other side. They traded a pair of disgustingly sappy looks before looking back at him and Yuri just had to bare his teeth in response.

“That doesn’t tell me anything. Don’t scrimp out on the fucking details, Katsudon – I’ve been going crazy for almost a whole damned year!” he snarled, making Yuuri grin.

“Well. It’s not like we really talk about it. What was I supposed to say?”

“Hi, I’m Katsuki Yuuri, Japan’s Ace, and oh, I’m also in the yakuza,” Chulanont suggested sulkily, making Katsudon elbow him. Victor coughed on his other side, hiding a grin of his own, and Yuri groaned, covering his face.

“I was starting to think I wouldn’t find out until I ran into Katsudon fighting delinquents in an alley or some shit. What the fuck. What the fuck,” he mumbled, making nearly everyone at the table muffle their laughter into their fists or shirt sleeves. Except for Victor, who fucking sighed, sounding like a lovestruck American movie actress or something. Why were they so-

“Disgusting,” he groaned into his hands again, and Beka patted him comfortingly on the back.

See? This is why he liked Beka. He wasn’t disgusting. Not like the pig and the old man, or even like fucking Giacometti, who was smirking on Beka’s other side.

“Is that actually what happened? Is that how you found out?”

Yuri stiffened immediately, hands still covering his face, but Victor didn’t even hesitate when he laughed and cracked a joke about always being ready to be rescued by ‘his Yuuri’. When Yuri peered over the tips of his fingers, Katsudon was staring straight back at him, eyes sharp as a naked blade.

Yuri stared back. Because he wasn’t fucking afraid. Not of Katsudon. And es-fucking-specially not when he’d been the one to make Victor cry.

Yuuri eyed him for a moment longer before cracking a wry smile, turning his attention back to what Chulanont was saying beside him. And Yuri didn’t think anyone else had noticed their silent exchange, not until Beka’s fingers tightened on Yuri’s back.

When he looked around, surprised, it was to find that Otabek had gone still, gaze fastened right on Yuuri’s face where he was laughing and flushing at whatever it was Victor was whispering into his ear. And when he looked down at Yuri, his eyes had gone just that slightest bit wide.

Yeah. Yeah. This? This was why he liked Otabek. He wasn’t blind, unlike nearly every other damned person that Yuri could name.

*

“Yuuri didn’t lie when he said that the Katsuki clan protects Hasetsu,” Yuuko said with a smile, when he video-called her to complain about her friend.

“That doesn’t tell me anything. Also, what the hell, do they teach people in Hasetsu to be unassuming or something?”

“Toshiya-san’s family probably owns most of the land in town, now,” she went on, not responding to what Yuri said.

Yuri didn’t even feel miffed about that. What she’d offered up was so much more interesting.

“Wait, what?” he breathed, and she burst into giggles.

“Yes,” she said, “oh, that’s how Takeshi reacted when we were children, when he first moved to Hasetsu with his dad. Yuuri’s family’s loaded. That’s why they were so willing to send him off to study skating abroad without any hesitation. Toshiya-san supported Yuuri all the way through the juniors until Sponsors started approaching him – and that didn’t happen until right before he got into the Senior League.”

Yuri stared at her.

“That- but- The inn! It’s a dump!”

“It’s homey,” she corrected with a grin. “And, anyway, the Katsuki clan was never big on impressing anyone. There’s absolutely no crime in Hasetsu or any of the surrounding towns- they police their territory better than the actual officers do, and even after the smaller onsens lost business, they never took it out on the people who rented their property.”

Yuri choked, because didn’t that mean the Katsuki clan owned-

“They’re good people, Yurio. If a little scary when you piss them off. Yuuri’s like that too, you know,” she concluded, smiling softly at him.

The expression on her face made him want to throw his phone straight at the fucking wall.

But, okay. Okay.

“Tell me more,” he said, and that was that.

*

If you make him cry again-

I won’t.

You better not, Katsudon. Or fuck your badass yakuza rep-

I don’t know what you’re talking about, Yurio.

Yuraaaaaa~ You had best not be talking about me when I’m not there to hear you!

*

What the hell was he supposed to do with these two. Really.

[glenngaylord]

THE SEMICIRCLE OF LIFE - My Review of ROCKETMAN (4 Stars)

[Excerpted from https://thequeerreview.com/ ]

My mother took me to my first concert when I was a young teen.  Ever the stylish trailblazer, she wore a halter top, hot pants, go-go boots and a cape as she led me into a giant arena in Cleveland to see none other than Elton John.  She stood and sang the whole time and frequently would yell to him, “You’re the king!  You’re the king!”  When surprise guest Kiki Dee hit the stage to perform their iconic duet, “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart”, I swear my mom lost her shit.  She couldn’t find it.  It was gone!  Around that time, Elton had just come out as bisexual, which cemented his icon status with me even further.  Here was this masterful singer, pianist, and songwriter who embraced his own fabulosity and had bravely for the time tip-toed towards his queerness. He was, and has always been, my favorite.  It’s my way of saying that I came into Rocketman predisposed to loving it.  

Director Dexter Fletcher (who, with his taking over the reins on Bohemian Rhapsody, knows a thing or two about gay rock icons) and screenwriter Lee Hall (Billy Elliot) have turned Elton’s life story into a phantasmagorical, full-blown musical, which, while riddled with the usual rock star cliches, manages to evoke the feeling of his music, and it’s an exhilarating experience.  Additionally, when not bursting with kaleidoscopic energy, the film brings us the painful and intimate story of a young boy whose demons seem to stem from a lack of parental love.  Despite achieving superstardom, Elton, with his crippling shyness as a child turning to drug, sex and alcohol excesses as an adult, along with a diva’s temperament, seems to cut to the heart of Jennifer North’s famous statement in Valley Of The Dolls, “You know how bitchy fags can be!”  This film, in its quieter scenes, painfully shows us how the judgment and coldness Elton experienced can lead to anger, depression, addiction, and suicide.  

Taron Egerton gives a brilliant performance as Elton.  Unlike Rami Malek’s Freddy Mercury, Egerton does his own singing, realizing a similar tone and a gorgeous, wistful energy to a couple dozen songs from a remarkable catalog.  We first meet him sporting an outrageous orange devil’s outfit as he bursts through the doors of a rehab center.  Faster than you can say, It’s A Wonderful Life, Elton talks about his 1950s English childhood, as a full-blown song and dance number to “The Bitch Is Back” erupts on the screen.  Following his younger self through his old neighborhood, we’re then treated to a quieter series of scenes in which we explore his lonely home life and emerging talent as a natural piano player.  While his distant father (Steven Mackintosh) and indulgent, uncaring mother (Bryce Dallas Howard) find ways to denigrate him, his grandmother (Gemma Jones) recognizes and nurtures the specialness in him.

From here, we witness Elton’s rise to the pop stratosphere, including his chance meeting with Bernie Taupin (a warm, engaging Jamie Bell), who will become his lifelong lyricist and great friend. He meets John Reid, who will eventually take over as Elton’s manager and boyfriend, until the usual betrayals and ugliness ensues.  Between how Aidan Gillen played the role in Bohemian Rhapsody and by Richard Madden’s commanding turn here, you get the sense that Reid himself hasn’t had a very good year.  For me, he seemed like the harsh voice of reason, but I’m willing to bet audiences will hiss him.

Some sequences work better than others.  The songs tend to serve the narrative rather than adhere to chronology, so we breeze through his younger years with a fun, trippy number set to “Saturday Night’s Alright For Fighting”. When Egerton makes his first young Elton appearance in this number, it’s a knockout blast.  Later, we watch him literally levitate, along with the audience, in a career-launching stint at the Troubadour to “Crocodile Rock”, despite the song being written years later.  It doesn’t matter, as these sequences have fluidity, grace, and a rush of energy.  Rocketman has been billed as ‘Based On A True Fantasy”, and this approach goes a long way towards smoothing over some of the film’s clunkier aspects.  Many of the events of Elton’s life feel cookie cutter, but through the filmmakers’ almost abstract interpretation of it, we get a propulsive, exhilarating ride nonetheless.  He may yada-yada through key moments, such as Elton’s meteoric rise, but Fletcher stays focused on Elton’s internal struggles. It’s not the deepest of biopics, since it really doesn’t go too far into all of the known story beats, opting instead to give us an experience through pure musical feeling.  

At times, I felt like Fletcher was simultaneously tipping his hat to Ken Russell’s Tommy, Baz Luhrmann’s Moulin Rouge, and in its early scenes, John Boorman’s Hope And Glory, yet the controlled rage of Egerton’s performance, especially in some devastating silent glances, make this its own unique experience.  Try not to die a little inside when adult Elton visits his father and sees that he dotes on his new children, having never done the same with him.  Egerton’s work here broke my heart.  As much as I loved the splashy numbers, the quiet ones, such as a goosebump inducing scene in which Elton writes his classic “Your Song”, moved me more.  

Some collaborators worth mentioning include a hilarious turn by Tate Donovan as the Troubadour owner, Doug Weston, Julian Day’s splashy, spot-on costume design, and George Richmond’s 70’s perfect cinematography.  From London to Los Angeles, on private jets and inside gaudy mansion drawing rooms, the film provides a rush of visuals.  It may feel like a messy hodgepodge of looks and tones, but doesn’t that describe Elton’s life?  He went from one musical style to another, sometimes forgetting what day it was or what town he was in, but he wrote a lot of amazing melodies.

Yes, people break out in song and dance throughout the film, or things turn surreal, such as in one sequence which starts out at the bottom of a swimming pool and culminates in Elton literally blasting off into space.  As such, the film benefits from its fearlessness in never shying away from being a musical.  Some numbers fall flat, such as Elton’s kinda lame “walk and talk” as he sings “Tiny Dancer” at a Hollywood party.  Other moments get the music video treatment, while a song like “I Need Love” gets sung by various characters who, quite obviously, could use a little more of it.  A key moment in the film begs for his classic “Someone Saved My Life Tonight” but instead goes with his upbeat “I’m Still Standing”.  I understand the decision, but felt the former would have resonated on a deeper level and put a nice capper on his beautiful relationship with Taupin.  The film also suffers by never allowing any of the songs to be sung in their entirety.  Some get as little as one line whereas others get cut too short.  A little breathing room, especially on the title track would have been nice. But with songs this great, and with Egerton’s fearless, sometimes vicious, sometimes delicate performance, Rocketman soars. I wish my mother was still around to see it, as she would have risen from her movie theater seat, thrown a go-go boot at the screen and screamed “You’re the king!” one last time.  

[dailynynews-blog]

The Best Gay Bars and Gay Friendly Lounges in Mobile, Alabama

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The Best Gay Bars and Gay Friendly Lounges in Mobile, Alabama

Famous for its historic sites, bay-front location, vintage buildings with wrought-iron balconies, and one of the nation’s most popular Mardi Gras celebrations, the southern Alabama city of Mobile is has a small but very fun little gay nightlife district. Most of the city’s GLBT bars are in the heart of downtown, steps from the moss-draped live oak trees of Bienville Square, the acclaimed (and beautifully restored) Saenger Theatre, and such first-rate hotels as the historic Battle House Renaissance Hotel, the Renaissance Riverview Plaza, the Hampton Inn & Suites (one of the nicer ones you’ll ever find), and the charming Malaga Inn. 

The scene here is considerably more discreet than in New Orleans, but charming Mobile does make for a very fun weekend getaway, and the city also hosts a lively Gay Pride celebration each April.

Mobile Gay-Friendly Bars

There are three gay bars in downtown Mobile, all of them around the block of Conti Street from Joachim to Conception streets. B-Bob’s (213 Conti St., 251-433-2262) has been going strong since the early 1990s and has two levels. On the ground floor, there’s a more conservation-friendly bar, while in the convivial upstairs area there’s dancing, drag cabaret, and more of a high-energy vibe – here’s a photo of B-Bob’s. The owners also operate the newest gay bar in the city, Flip Side Bar & Patio (54 S. Conception St., 251-431-8869), which draws many of the same who hang out at B-Bob’s. Pluses here include the fact that it’s a smoke-free bar inside, and that there’s a pleasant patio (where you can smoke, but it’s also just a great place to socialize and enjoy mingling on a warm evening).

Flip Side was formerly known as Bacchus.

Just around the corner, Gabriel’s (55 S. Joachim St., 251-432-4900) also dates to the early 1990s and is set inside a charming old building with exposed-brick walls and a beautifully kept patio. Gabriel’s is a private club, meaning they’re able to serve liquor later than at public establishments, but also that you must be a member of guest of a member. 

This lively bar has a great staff, including a few feline mascots rescued by the human employees. Gabriel’s is fun for karaoke, socializing around the cozy bar, and shooting pool, and on Saturday nights, the attractive patio is the place to be.

Mobile does have one other gay neighborhood bar, Midtown Pub (153 S. Florida St., 251-450-1555) that’s not right in the downtown district but, but is just a 10- to 15-minute drive west, in the area for which it’s named. With plenty of parking, pinball machines and pool tables, a decent-size dance floor, and an everybody-knows-your-name kind of vibe, this is an easy place for newcomers to fit in. Sunday’s karaoke nights are fun, and every night you can count on a couple of drink specials. The crowd is eclectic – and friendly.

Mobile Gay-Friendly Restaurants

Mobile is a great city for seafood and Creole cooking, and several restaurants downtown do cultivate a bit of a gay following and are well worth checking out for a meal or to grab a drink. The following spots are all within a short walk of downtown hotels as well as the gay bars near the Saenger Theatre. Sophisticated Noja (6 N. Jackson St., 251-433-0377) serves some of the most creative and artfully plated food in the city, including sous vide salmon with gnocchi, braised red cabbage, and a morel mushroom sauce; and Indian-spiced grilled lamb loin with garlic and onion confit. 

Since 1938, Wintzell’s Oyster House (605 Dauphin St., 251-432-4605) has been turning out delicious Creole-inspired seafood and other dishes – this one in downtown Mobile is the original of what’s become a sizable chain with franchises throughout Alabama.

Popular with the gay community and occupying an elegant, historic building, Spot of Tea (310 Dauphin St., 251-433-9009) serves three meals a day but is especially well-regarded for brunch and breakfast (the banana’s Foster French toast has plenty of fans).

Quirky and fun, serving fusion Mexican and Japanese food, the OK Bicycle Shop (661 Dauphin St., 251-432-2453) cultivates an offbeat vibe and caters to a happily diverse bunch – it’s a good bet for cocktails, too. Nearby Hayley’s Bar (278 Dauphin St., 205-433-4970) has a great list of hard-to-find beers and a funky feel about it – it’s a straight hangout, but with a pretty mixed crowd, from hipsters to artists to suits.

It’s just an hour’s drive southeast to the Florida panhandle city of Pensacola, home to a few other noteworthy gay bars, as well as the Pensacola Gay Memorial Day Weekend celebration, held each year in late May.