#I’ve been to the town they recorded new moon in and made it out alive go me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fannishcodex · 3 years

Note

More Bat adora and her papa please, just to tied us over while you are making the story.

@thehumminbrawler So this actually inspired me to write a like ficlet oneshot. ^^; May be out-of-continuity with the mainline AU, but was neat to put it down and I kinda just needed to put it down due to some stuff going IRL right now, I'm like coping with fandom even more right now.

Notes: While spacebat!Adora was a baby, Shadow Weaver tried to kidnap her and take over the Etherian Horde. Hordak managed to protect Adora, escaping with her and Imp as well as those that remained loyal to him/didn't want to follow SW, while SW took over the Fright Zone and created the Shadow Horde. Hordak and co.--pretty much now the Renegade Horde--fled to the Crimson Waste, and their presence started to stabilize the region. The Renegade Horde fights more with the Shadow Horde now, and tries to negotiate for allies more. The Renegade Horde has an ongoing and tense negotiation effort with the Royal Alliance against the Shadow Horde. The Valley refers to the Valley of the Lost, still a major settlement in the Crimson Waste and now more of a bustling center of commerce and community. Just quickly named Dryl Baker "Bekka." Due to Hordak's background of being surrounded by brothers as his own family and society, he perceives Adora and Imp as his younger siblings, but after Later Events he'll start exploring the terms of 'parent-child' and may think that fits their relationship better. (It's an AU Prime in this though the differences don't really come into play here.) There is a little Entrapdak.

Fic under the cut:

following his brothers while sneaking glances out the window at all the stars

all four eyes bearing down on him and pinning him in place

futilely holding a dying brother's hand on the battlefield

"--well I'm very happy you've got it all figured out, Imp." Hordak's ears twitched at his younger sister's grumbling, making his heart slow down. He clung to the sound of her voice, a refuge from nightmares and poor memories even if she obviously sounded irritated, though with an edge of self-reproach. The elder clone began to gingerly sit up, monitoring himself while slipping off the blanket. What could his younger siblings be squabbling over? What could be troubling Adora? How long had he slept?

Fortunately Hordak hadn't fainted, but he had felt weaker, tired earlier--enough so that Adora and Imp caught him and made him lie down and rest. As they had gotten older, his younger siblings had a habit of ganging up on him when they put their mind to it, and their teamwork always proved to be formidable. But Hordak had planned to search for some materials down in the Valley today, and he still saw no reason why he couldn't do so. He felt groggy, but also like some of his energy had been replenished. Adora's reasoning and Imp's insistence that he should rest had been sound.

Imp gave a warning screech, clearly spotting him, and Adora was immediately at his side. Though still...wobbly, irritation didn't flash through Hordak (he was getting better at accepting help from those he cared about). Instead, a fond smile slipped onto his face at his sister's presence. But when he caught her eye, his smile faltered slightly. They were blue and alive with concern--but he again stumbled on the dark slit pupils she had been blessed to inherit from their oldest brother and genetic template. Blessed. She had been blessed...it was his own weakness and cowardice that made him unsettled sometimes. But these were rare flashes for the differences always asserted themselves--Adora's eyes were a bright blue just like her fangs, and more significantly they were always warm and open, she had not the necessary detachment of Horde Prime. (And yet it had been a long time since Hordak had talked about Horde Prime with either Adora or Imp.)

Hordak felt his own self-reproach cloud his mind when Adora frowned, but felt it retreat when she only said that maybe he should lie back down, and asked how he felt. She apparently hadn't realized Hordak foolishly misdirected fear toward her eyes and the unintended offense. Adora had thought his faltering smile and proverbial wince was due to his physical weakness, not his mental one. The elder clone took a breath and shook his head. "I'm fine, Sister. I've rested enough--" Adora glared, and her ears gave a warning flick. "You shouldn't go to town today--" Hordak opened his mouth, then his eyes landed on a tray of tiny soup mugs. He decided to switch tactics. Sometimes it was necessary in the face of Adora's determination. "Entrapta made soup?" It wasn't really a question, and he reached out a talon for a mug. Though he hadn't seen her before Adora and Imp had convinced him to rest, he assumed his partner must've come while he slept, made something for when he awoke, then took her leave. They were all busy with impending negotiations and the...local customs that were apparently necessary. (He still didn't understand "parties," while Adora tackled them with dedication, almost always open to finding the value in anything.) Imp passed him a mug, and Adora absently nodded. "Yeah, she came while you were out and whipped them up." Then she shook her head, re-focusing. "She said--"

"--tell Hordak to feel better and sorry I couldn't stay, Cobalt needed some time-sensitive wrangling with the delegation from Thaymor--but I'll be back later tonight!" Entrapta's recording filtered out once Imp opened his mouth. Hordak smiled at her bright voice. Adora laughed and rubbed the back of her neck. "Right, that. Thanks Imp." She slid the tray of soup closer to Hordak, where it had been placed on a small table next to his bed. "You like it? Entrapta said she tried something different, added a new herb or something that Bekka told her about," his sister remarked, and Hordak nodded around a sip. Then Adora's ears snapped down, nearly horizontal, and her eyes narrowed. "Eating your soup doesn't mean you should go out right now." "I'll have been fed and rested," Hordak pointed out after finishing his second mug. Adora's ears pricked up to their usual stance, and her eyes were no longer narrowed. "Hordak, I can just go into town for you--" His sister was apparently trying to change tactics too. The elder clone shook his head. "I am looking through updated inventory, not picking up something I know they already have." He downed another mug of soup. "If you just described what you're looking for--" "It's not that simple, it's..." Hordak shook his head. "It would be easier if I did it myself." "...You're just browsing, aren't you?" Hordak nodded, realizing Adora had articulated what he meant. "Yes, that." His sister blew out a frustrated breath, her ears giving an irritated flick. But she still didn't look convinced. "You can always accompany me to the Valley," Hordak finally said after he emptied another mug. Usually Adora loved exploring the merchants' wares in the Valley markets; it was what he had come to learn was called a "hobby." "My formal dress got wrecked when the Shadow Horde tried to kidnap Prince Peekablue." Adora's disappointed voice crackled out as Imp played the recording, while the present Adora's ears pricked up in surprise. "We can look for something new for you in town," Hordak added, seizing on Imp's opening. Adora's eyes darted between her brothers, frowning. Imp looked smug and far too satisfied, while Hordak tried not to grin at his younger brother's demeanor. Hordak and Imp could form their own effective team as well. Adora shook her head, but hesitantly. "That's fine, there's still time before the talks and the delegates' ball, I can go when you're feeling better--" "I feel better now," Hordak insisted. Imp chittered cajolingly as he climbed up on his shoulder, but Adora favored her fellow hybrid brother with a glare. "Backstabber," she grumbled at Imp, who just chirped teasingly. Then their sister rolled her eyes. "Fiiiine." Imp theatrically scrunched up his face in faux disgust, then played back a recording of one of Princess Mermista's signature groans. "Woah no, I'm not--don't even joke about that--" Adora snapped with wide, alarmed eyes while Imp snickered and Hordak slid a hand over his growing smile. ___ Since the fracture of the Etherian Horde and their exile into the Crimson Waste, the desert region had been changing with the influx of now branded Renegade Horde members who rejected Shadow Weaver's command. The place had become more stable, and in that stability it had found a new profitability in more consistent commerce. After examining scrap yards and mechanics for new goods and finding some promising materials that went straight into Adora's shopping pack--she refused to let Hordak carry anything, and Hordak refrained from resisting as long as she agreed to let him carry whatever new dress she picked--they went to the merchants selling various garments and accessories. Adora tried to efficiently and quickly select something, and while Hordak could see her reasoning, he instead told her that she could spend more time looking. "You normally enjoy the markets," he pointed out to her. Hordak still had mixed feelings on the place, which was especially dependent on how tolerable the crowds were. But he felt satisfied when he found particularly useful tools or supplies there; he enjoyed it more when he hunted for supplies with Entrapta and shared conversation with her; it brightened his mood when he watched Adora bounce happily between the stalls and eagerly browse while Imp flew around her head, orbiting her like a moon.

His sister sighed. Imp plopped on her head, pouting, and Adora stumbled a little under the sudden weight of him. She frowned and glared up at the boy, but then stared back at Hordak. "Yeah, but--" "I'm fine, Adora," Hordak repeated. Then he hesitated, and continued, "We...could use a break, and that can take the form of an afternoon in the market stalls." It was difficult to learn, but Hordak had been learning. He had been learning from his younger siblings, when he found he liked letting them play, and continued to desire seeing them enjoy themselves when they could. He had learned from Cobalt, Grizzlor, and Octavia once he realized he could trust them more. He had learned from Entrapta... (Hordak tried not to think of his oldest brother wreathed in light and consumed with purpose.) Adora blinked, and gave a soft smile. Then she giggled as Imp mussed up her snow white hair, and Hordak led them to the dried fruit stall they all favored. ___ Adora examined various dresses and talked to some eager-to-sell merchants while her brothers stood back. Imp ate the last of the dried apricots while he sat on Hordak's shoulder, and though the risk was minimal, Hordak wanted to ensure he did not make a mess on the shop's inventory. When Imp finished, Hordak nodded to him, quietly giving permission, and the boy immediately launched himself off and flitted around Adora's head. Locals used to Imp were able to mind the boy's flight path.

"Hey, Hordak, you already have an outfit picked out like Imp and Entrapta, right?" Adora called out from behind a shelf of scarves and jewelry, with only the tips of her ears poking out. And then they ducked out of sight while she was clearly on the search for something, or examining something more closely.

"Yes," Hordak said, while he glared at Imp and gave a warning flick of his ears when the boy started playing with a scarf, wrapping it too fast and roughly around his body. The boy stuck out his tongue, but began to disentangle himself.

"Okay, so I'm looking for a dress, but I thought I could accessorize too because something just caught my eye--but maybe I should find a dress first--but this accessory could help me narrow down on a dress that could pair well with it--"

Hordak actually felt the urge to laugh, but he fought it down and only allowed himself a smile. (But he questioned himself--why not laugh, a chuckle in the Valley's bustling market would not be out of place--the silence of his brothers while on guard shift, four eyes staring down--but he had already broken so many edicts--the cold click of a talon guard--)

"Are you asking for input, or brainstorming?" Hordak asked, shoving back thoughts of his original home away. It was a question he had asked Adora before, wishing to determine when she wanted his thoughts or when she wanted someone to just listen.

"Brainstorming! And I'm also prepping you because I want to show you and see what you think, and I think I found something you might like too--" And then Adora stepped out and gestured to her ears with a smile.

Hordak looked, and he felt something rise up in his throat, and he hated himself. The metal clasps wrapped around Adora's ears were bronze and they didn't even reach the tips of her ears--but in his mind's eye he saw Prime and silver clasps perfectly fitted to his ears, and the dark slit pupils of Adora's bright blue eyes were swallowed up by vivid green and lacking in all warmth...

"Brother--?"

Hordak flinched, his eyes squeezed shut. And then it registered with him that it had been Adora's voice filled with concern, obviously not Prime's. His self-loathing grew. He opened his eyes just in time to see Adora close the gap and lay a supporting talon on his arm, clearly worried he might stumble. Imp clung to her shoulder, with part of the scarf he had been playing with still wrapped around one of his arms.

"Hey, are you okay? Do you need to sit down?"

"I...yes, I just need to take a seat," Hordak said, thinking pretending he had felt a little faint was better than admitting to the awful and confusing thoughts that plagued him. Adora promptly and politely asked the merchant's assistant if they had a stool, and he immediately provided one.

Adora thanked the assistant, then looped an arm around Hordak's, clearly wanting to help him sit. Normally he would've resisted, he would've insisted that he could sit by himself at least, but shame and guilt made him comply. But then he saw in his sister's face that his easy compliance had not been reassuring to her.

"When you're ready, we can go back--"

Hordak shook his head while Imp switched to his shoulder. "I'm fine now; I can wait here while you find your dress." Avoiding her concerned look, Hordak unwrapped the final piece of scarf away from Imp, then carefully began rolling it up.

The elder clone glanced up at Adora's ears--now dipped low with worry, he noted with another stab of guilt--and forced himself to review the new accessory by its own merit. Despite his efforts, he felt it still looked eerily similar to Prime's; but its bronze material seemed to go well with the reds Adora tended to favor.

His ears flicked in the direction of her new jewelry. "Their color suits you," he murmured with muted but genuine fondness. This was his sister, her own...truly her own person. Her capacity for mercy marked her as distinct.

Adora's ears pricked up, and she ran a talon self-consciously across the length of a clasp adorning one of them. "You really think so?"

"Of course."

She smiled softly back. Then she startled, as if remembering something. She raised her other talon, closed in a fist. "This is the, um, thing I thought you might like." She unfurled her fist and let a single, red diamond earring dangle from her carefully pinched, taloned fingers. "I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be by itself for an asymmetrical look--at least that's what the note next to it said--"

When Hordak reached out a talon, Adora dropped it in his waiting palm. He rubbed a thumb over its surface, still warm from his sister's touch.

"It's exquisite," Hordak said, and Adora softly chuckled, pleased. Then after again asking Hordak if he was fine and Hordak again insisting he was, Adora went back to looking. Soon she amassed a pile of clothes and claimed one of the dressing stalls. By the time she came out wearing the first dress, Imp was settled in Hordak's lap, and Hordak had tried on the red diamond earring.

"Too long," Adora muttered. She went back in, and came out again in a new dress.

"Too much...um, ruffles?"

Dress number three. "This color's not working."

Back in, back out. "The embroidery's kinda too much."

Next. "Okay guys, what do you think of--?"

"You look like you got run over by a tank." Imp used a recording of Grizzlor's voice, and Hordak gave a scolding hiss.

With a flush running across both her ears and cheeks, Adora immediately ran back into the stall and snapped the curtain behind her. Imp glanced up at Hordak with a guilty look, realizing his joking had gone too far. "You will apologize to her later," he told Imp with a glare.

"Um, so I actually like...kinda like this one..." Adora's voice filtered out from behind the curtain of the stall, and the hesitancy in her voice made Imp's ears lower even more, and Hordak did not relent in the glare he favored him with. "But I dunno, it's...well, look--"

And Adora stepped out, with one talon gripping her other arm while her cheeks and the tips of her ears still flushed blue. Adora favored red, and all of the dresses she had tried on were different shades of it, but this one was the right sort of crimson that went well enough with her blue skin. The cut of it was simple, from its torso to the way the edge of its skirt flared out, but the structure of it suited Adora in his mind. Its belt was just as simple, and with an amber color that paired well with her bronze ear clasps.

"It's kinda basic, but..."

"You look lovely, Adora," Hordak said, and his sister's ears perked up.

"Beautiful." Imp conveyed with a recorded excerpt of Entrapta's voice.

Adora smiled, her blue fangs beaming.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Comments/reblogs/likes are deeply appreciated!

#spacebat adora #hordak #horde clones #spacebats #horde prime #my fanfic

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yamithediaperdork · 3 years

Text

Rewarded as a bully deserves (HunterXhunter)

Killua was in a rotten mode as he headed for the closet park in town, huffing and growling over him and Gon having a fight.

It was just so stupid! Here he was, a deadly assassin and for the 6th time this month they'd woken up in a bed drenched with pee. Lord knows Gon was trying to be kind and supportive but really, who could blame him for getting tired of waking up soaked?

Gon wanted Killua to start wearing 'protection' at night to bed, but the deadliest bed wetter alive refused to go that far, he had already comprised and let Gon put rubber sheets on the bed so hotel staffs stopped giving them a hard time hadn't he?

In any case they had taken a shower and gotten dressed, and Gon asked Killua to go for a walk by himself and think about what he had said.

'Screw that nonsense.. I'm go and cheer myself up the best way I know how!' Killua thought as he came to the playground area of the park. Nothing lifted his spirits like a little bit of harmless bullying.

Scanning the play area Killua spotted a good first target. a 5-6 year old with dark tanned skin and a black brush cut was digging away in the sandbox, making a moat around a sad looking sand castle he'd made with one hand, while licking away on a mint chocolate ice cream cone with the other.

spotting a plastic bucket with some water in it for the moat, Killua smirked and strolled over.

"Nice fort little guy." He said sarcastically, getting the boys attention and the kid gave him a smile.

"thanks! I was working on it for like ever!" The little guy said, apparently not recognizing the tone.

"Heh, Would be a shame if something happened to it though." Killua chuckled. "you did get house insurance against giants right?"

"Uhhh what?"

"well what if some big mean old giant.." Killua started, stepping into the sand box now. "Just came up..and did THIS!" Killua asked and stomped his foot down on top of the fort, snickering as the little guys eyes went wide.

"HEY! WHY'D YA DO THAT?!?" the little guy yelled, starting to stand up and with tears welling in his eyes.

"Because i'm better, stronger and therefore better then you. Little dorks have to get put in their place." Killua sneer and then grabbed the arm holding the ice cream cone and make the kid smuch it onto his hair. "Geez you little dorks are SUCH messy eaters!"

The boy squealed as the sudden cold on his head and how icky it felt.

"S-Stop this! I-I" the boy tried to make his threat clear but he was also trying not to full on bawl.

"heyyy don't worry about it, I'll help you clear up!" Killua laughed, then snatched up the bucket with the water in it and dumped it on the boys head, then tugged it down over the kids eyes.

"Hey, that's a good look for you, but it's missing something." Killua said and sneered, then turned the boy around and tugged back the kid's short then tanked up on the poor little guys briefs.

"Awww, a fan of sailor moon I see!" Killua teased and hooked the back of the briefs on the back of the bucket, then booted the kid in the ass, sending him sprawling out of the sand pit.

"Alright, I had my fun, get the fuck out of here before I decide to be mean." Killua said cheerfully.

the thought that all of this had been Killua being nice light a fire under the boy's butt, and he ran/crawled off, not even trying to remove the helmet or pick the wedgie out of his butt.

"well, I feel better already." Killua commented to himself, though he noticed a few other kids and adults glaring at him.

"Oh by all means, anyone who wants to try and punish me.. " Killua said, going from a happy goofy look to his slash smile. "Step up."

no one did.

After scaring two more little guys into give him all their ice cream money Killua was in the middle of getting a cone (Double chocolate mint just like the dork had had, it had looked good after all) when he heard a familiar voice.

"That's him Carlo! that's the bully!" cried the dork from before.

Turning around slowly Killua smirked, Carlo was clearly the dork's big brother, and while he was a little bit taller then Killua he had a slim build and the same tanned skin, though his hair was a bit longer while still being short.

"Ok mister, I'm going to give you ONE chance to say sorry to my little brother, and get him a replacement cone. If you don't.." Carlo said, crossing his eyes and glaring at Killua with a death glare.

Killua, who gave those out with ease froze for a tiny fraction of a second, and his bladder twitched, but he shook it off and took a long lick of his ice cream to show he wasn't scared, and to give him time to regain his composure.

"What? If i don't you'll do -what?-" Killua asked. "Try and fight me and end up hanging from the teeth ball pole by your undies? I mean, I'm mostly in a good mood now but if it's a ass kicking you want." Killua sneered.

Carlo rolled his eyes, then smirked.

"You know..I've been in a bit of a funk lately, and beating up bullies always makes me free better.. so thanks." He said.

Killua raised a eyebrow to thank but before he could react, Carlo was right next to him, and much like Killua had done before, taken a gripe on the arm with the ice cream cone.

On small difference though, Carlo wasn't going to make him put it in his hair and had tugged open the front of Killua's shorts and undies.

"W-Wait d-don't!" Killua shrieked, his plea fell on deaf ears though and he was somehow powerless to over come the taller boy power.

As such, a high pitch wail was heard as Killua's twig and berries got a double mint chocolate coating.

Killua's eyes crossed and a cartoonish image flashed in his mind as it felt like his private had just been transformed into two ice cubes and a Icicle, then there was sudden relief and warmth, making him stick his tongue out the side of his mouth in blessed relief.. at least until he noticed the warmth was traveling down his legs.

"heh, Carlo the bully wet himself!" The little guy pointed out, snickering and getting out his phone to take pictures.

"I can see that buddy, Aww, did the cold cold ice cream make da big bad bully go wee wee?" Carlo asked, folding his arms over his chest and baby talking to Killua.

"i..I uh.." Killua stammered, Sure, he was no stranger to soaking his pants at NIGHT while he was asleep, but this was a new one for him! "I..didn't go tinkle?" He finished lamely.

"Rightt then whats that making a puddle on the ground right now and staining your shorts." Carlo asked.

"..I don't have to answer that! In fact, I've had enough of false accusation's and I'm leaveing!" Killua huffed and turned around to do just that, but also exposed his back to his new found enemy.

Carlo, knowing that Killua had wedgie his little brother Hector, moved in and with on hand tugging Killua's shorts back the other grabbed the waist brand of Killua's Barney briefs and lifted up before the poor hunter even had a chance to fight back.

Killua's mouth opened as if he was screaming, and while dogs howled in pain no one with human ears could of heard the noise coming from his mouth, it was that high pitched.

Carlo smirked at the response and said "Awww, Barney briefs? that's just soo..fitting! But I wonder how strong they are?" then adding his other hand to the back of the waist band even as Killua looked over his shoulder and shook his head no, bringing his hands together pleading, Yanked the soon to be ex-hunter off the ground by a good 2 inches if now more and dangled him there as Killua turned pale and went blank eyed.

"Oh wow, those must be reinforced Carlo!" Hector marveled, recording this all for YouTube.

"I know, kinda a shame, if they weren't they'd of snapped by now and he'd know SOME relief." Carlo chuckled then turned him and Killua better into frame for the camera.

"hi I'm Carlo and this is a big bully who tried to pick on my little brother..Huh, never caught his name.. Hey wedgie boy, whats your name?" Carlo asked and holding Killua up with just one arm delivered a hard swat to Killua's buns, which also ended up making his shorts slide down around his ankles showing off his pee stained undies.

"A-AH! M-Mah name is Killua Zoldyck and I'm super super sowwy! Pwease stop!" Killua begged and pleaded, in a voice that sounded like he'd sucked on some helium.

"I dunno Hector, what do YOU think? Has Killua had enough?" Carlo asked, and Killua shot the boy he'd bullied a pleading look, bottom lip trembling and tears welling up.

"Hmmm you know I really think..that you should use him like a yo-yo till his undies snap. THEN I'll forgive him!" Hector giggled.

With both hands on the waist band Carlo went to work even as Killua started to blubber and cry for his mommy.

It ended up taking a record breaking 55 bounces before Killua's undies snapped, and by that time Killua had gone to la-la. with his undies snapped and ripped off off he was too out of it to notice that he was currently face down butt up with nothing covering his der rear and his bubble butt and little package showing.

"oh man.. that explains why he was in such a bad mood.." Hector giggled, having turned off the camera for now but uploading the video. (after all, even with a member as small of Killua's the mods on YouTube would of removed the video)

"man, makes me feel like I picked on a over sized toddler. feeling a little guilty." Carlo said, though in truth he wasn't really.

Killua's shorts were gone by this point as the boys who's ice cream money he had stolen had retrieved them, and after finding some of the cash and taking Killua's wallet, had tossed them in a bin meant for dog waste.

"Well, nothing we can do now, we don't have any spare pants for him." Hector pointed out.

"Well not quite..remember that weird vendor we passed on the way in?" Carlo said, digging into his pocket and pulling out some bill's.

"Heh.. you don't mean.." Hector asked.

"A yup. be a good boy and run and get widdle Killua something to wear." Carlo said, handing the money over and keeping a eye on 'sleeping beauty' while Hector ran off.

Killua was having a wonderful dream about having a endless buffet of candy and chocolates and it was so nice after what must of been a nightmare where he was tormented and bullied beyond belief.

He was slowly waking up and rolling over to sit up and rubbing his eyes. "Nggggh Heyyy Gon, you wouldn't believe the night..mare..I.." Killua started to say then opened his eyes, seeing Carlo and a semi crowd all around.

"Welcome back to the land of the living tiny!" Carlo said.

Killua huffed at that and stood up, about to tell Carlo off, he wasn't THAT much shorter when a breeze blew and he noticed how much he felt it on his on buns.

Looking down his face went crimson and Killua grabbed at his shirt and tugged it down, trying to cover up his privates.

"W-WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY UNDIES? MY SHORTS?!" Killua yelled, getting roars of laughter from the crowd.

"Well your undies were totally wreaked so we tossed them." Carlo said, nodding over to a waste bin for normal trash. "As for your shorts, there was a couple of boys you really seemed to annoy earlier and after getting back they're ice cream money with interest, they tossed them in the dogie waste bin..I doubt you'll want them back."

"but..but.. I can't go around with my ding dong on display!" Killua whined and whimpered.

"That's true. don't worry, I already thought of that shrimp." Carlo said and nodded behind Killua.

Killua turned to look and there was Hector, the brat he wished he'd never of picked on, running back with a pack of...DIAPERS!?

Killua whimpered loudly, a spurt of pee coming out and soaking the bottom of his shirt as he turned back to Carlo with pleading eyes.

"Please no! anything but diapers!" Killua whimpered. "I'm not a baby!"

"heh, Are you SURE about that?" Carlo asked, looking down and making Killua's gaze follow to the damp spot on Killua's t-shirt.

"i..but..that was because.." Killua mewed then shrieked and jumped, grabbing at his bun's as Hector came in range and walloped Killua's baby butt.

Ironically when he came down he landed in Carlo's waiting arms, like a blushing bride.

"Awww how cute, but you really think I'm gonna save you?" Carlo asked, then dropped Killua onto the hard ground and onto his tender buns.

"S-Stop being s-so mean to me!" Killua whined, on the verge of anther crying fit.

"Sheesh, I should of gotten him a paci." Hector said, handing the pack of diapers over to Carlo then tugging the shirt up and off of Killua, using it as a tear rag then tossing it out.

"Oh wow, Lookie here Killua~" Carlo said, reading the pack then holding it in front of Killua's face then read from the back. " 'New little poopers punishment diapers are perfect for your so called big kid who refuses to use the potty! extra thick to ensure they waddle, it comes with a embarrassingly babyish nursery print we promise to have your little stinker blushing bright red. with a special stink guard you and the big baby won't have to deal with their stink!' Heh wow, Oh look, they offer alt versions, that's something to keep in mind if you need more lessons."

Killua meanwhile was looking at the front of the package, showing sobbing pre teens in the bulky diapers and smirking parents.

"I-I changed my mind! I'll go home naked!" Killua whined.

"Nonsense! what kind of person would I be if I let you go without the diaper you CLEARLY need!" Carlo said, as if he was doing Killua a favor. "This is gonna go down one of two ways loser. You can either lay back and suck your thumb while I put as many of these as I can on you, or I can kick your ass, knock you senseless..then put as many of these as I can on you. Either way, you're going back to diapers. YOUR choice."

Killua pouted, started to ball a fist up.. then sighed and laid back, popping his thumb in his mouth and turning away from the crowd as laughter and taunts rang out.

"Loser!"

"Big baby!"

"Wuss!"

Carlo was a little disappointed that Killua decided not to fight back, but he had to admit seeing the wanna be bully accepting his big baby fate was kinda cute.

ripping the back open open Carlo smirked, dispute being the size of a pack that should be able to hold 16 diapers, there was only 6 of them in the pack and he pulled on of the massive things out, making sure everyone could see all the rattles and paci's and teddy bears and the like all over the diaper then unfolded it.

"Ok Shrimp, Butt up! If i have to lift you up I'm giving your buns a swat!" He said and wasn't shocked when Killua's butt almost levitated up in a instant to avoid any more punishment. "good boy!"

getting the almost pillow like diaper under the loser's butt, he gently pushed Killua's butt back down and smirked as Killua loudly sucked on his thumb, getting drool going down his chin as Carlo pulled the front up nice and snug and then taped it up.

"Welcome back to babyhood Shrimp." Hector said, leaning down and snickering, and making Carlo beam with pride.

In the end they only manged to double diaper Killua, the diapers were just too massive and they ripped a third one trying to get it on the babfied brat.

After he was all nice and snug in his diapers Carlo told Killua to try and get up and to Killua's massive shame, not only could he NOT get up on his own, but he couldn't even get close to bringing his knees together.

The fourth time he just plopped down on his butt trying to get up, Carlo rolled his eyes and chuckled.

"-sigh- Ok Shrimp, let me help you." Carlo said as if he was doing Killua a favor.

Holding out his hands Killua took them and got yanked up to his feet, legs wobbling as he tried to center his balance.

"heh, you might need a bit to get used to waddling in there. Try waddling over to that tree over there." Carlo said, pointing to a tree that would of only been 10 seconds away normally, but with this massive bulk taped around his hips it might as well been a mile away.

Still, Killua knew better then to argue at this point and took a wobbly step, then anther, and smirked, thinking he was getting the hand of it.

'I got this! I can-' He was thinking when his fourth step went wrong and with a loud yelp Killua plopped on his butt, a shocked look on his face but not hurt considering the thick padding under his butt.

"Awww, widdle baby Killua doesn't know how to walk!" Hector giggled, getting more laughter from the crowd.

"yeah, guess you better stick to crawling shrimp..you CAN at least do THAT can't you?" Carlo asked, tilting his head and smirking.

Killua huffed, he wanted to try and walk again but knew he wasn't getting any help and there just wasn't anything to help him get up to his feet with around. He toyed with getting in the crawling position and pushing himself up THAT way but had a feeling while he'd be in the middle of it Carlo would just smack his butt and send him face first into the dirt.

getting on all fours and trying to drown out the snickers and flashes of camera phones going off, Killua rolled around and got on all fours and then slowly crawled over towards the tree, glad that he had been right that he could crawl at least.

'at least i didn't have to do a diaper scoot across the ground, knowing my luck it would of ripped apart the diaper and I'd of gotten a spanking.' Killua thought with a sulk as he reached the tree.

"Well well, at least you can crawl, I was worried I was gonna have to carry you over." Carlo snickered. "Now use the true shrimp and get to your feet, and shake that diapered ass and sing us a song about what a big dumb baby you are and how happy you are to be back in diapers."

"..Your joking right?" Killua asked, jaw dropping. "There is NO WAY in hell I'm gonna d-" he started started to say but Carlo cracked the knuckles on his right fist and and light tapped his fist into his open left hand.

"You SURE about that?" Carlo asked.

"..W-what If I can't think of any lyrics because I'm a big dumb baby?" Killua squeaked out, flooding his pampers.

"I'm sure you'll think of something. It's ok if your dumb is lame though, your just a diaper baby shrimp." Carlo said.

Grunting with effort, Killua pulled himself to his feet, hands braced on the three and looked over his shoulder, the crowd was watching with delight and he trying to think of something, anything to sing.

"I...I'm big baby Killua and I'm so happy.." he started, wiggling his diaper, shutting his eyes.

"Because a big strong boy put me in a nappy!

Diapers are totally wear I belong!

so I hope all of you love my big dumb baby song!

I thought I was a bully but I'm just a dweeb

filling my diapers up with pee pee

If i ask for undies look at me like I'm a nut

then make baby poop with a punch to the gut!"

The act of singing the song and keep his eyes closed so he didn't have to see the crowd (though he could hear them laughing and cheering him on) had Killua's body getting into it and he was shaking his diaper booty like there was no tomorrow.

"Stupid babies like me we don't need to think!

we just sit in our diaper and super stink!

Watch me prove that as a baby I'm the best

I'm gonna fill my diapers with a super big mess!"

Killua's eyes shot open at that, had he really just promised that!? worse, his body was again moving on it's own accord and he was squatting down now, grunting and pushing, puffing out his cheeks.

'no no no no! why can't I stop myself! GOOOON! HELP!' Killua thought.

"Killua? whats going on?" Came Gon's voice.

Killua almost didn't believe it at first, it was just he wanted Gon to save him that he heard the voice of his boyfriend! But no, a look over his shoulder showed Gon standing there, eyebrow raised.

"G-Gon you have to s-save me! I-I-I.." Killua tried to tell Gon about what had happened, how he'd been victimized but before he could get the story out, something else came out in the back of his diaper. "I'M POOPING!" Killua cried out.

if the muffled farts hadn't of been hint enough, the back of the THICK diapers bloating out and getting even bigger would of given it away, and despite the diaper's boast of super stink guard, Killua's backed up stinky load (he hadn't gone in 5 days) was filling the area with a rotten smell, driving part of the crowd away.

Gon for his part just held his nose and then shook his head.

"Really Killua? You won't wear diapers to bed despite being a bed wetter, but you'll load them in public..Your coming with me mister man." Gon scolded and walked over.

"Um.. Should we tell him-" hector started to ask Carlo, holding his own nose.

"Nah, it's better this way. you can get out of the area of effect though, I'm gonna go say by by to baby Killua."

Walking over Gon was scolding Killua and swatting his boyfriends mushy butt as Killua whined and whimpered, sucking his thumb and still going.

"Hi, I'm Carlo...I was watching your little guy today." Carlo said, holding out a hand.

"Oh, well, thanks. I'm sure he was a handful." Gon said, giving Killua a look then shaking Carlo's hand.

"well he wasn't that bad. it was a lot of fun actually. anyways, here's the rest of the diapers Killua got and asked me to put on him, and if you even need a babysitter, give me a call." Carlo said.

"Heh, i just might, give me your number." Gon said, taking out his phone and handing it to Carlo, one hand still mushing Killua's tush.

"there we go. anyways, you two have fun! Byeeee baby Killua! you were LOTS of fun to play with." Carlo said and waved bye to the stinky big baby.

"Killua, don't be rude!" Gon scolded.

Killua whimpered, knowing there was no way he was living this down, he was gonna be in diapers for at LEAST a month..and knew it was pointless to try and tell the truth now.

Sliding his thumb out of his mouth as he finished loading his diaper, he gave a weak wave to Carlo and in a small voice said

"Bye bye."

The end

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sisterofiris · 4 years

Text

Everyday life in the Hittite empire

Have you ever wondered what your life would have been like if you had been born in central Anatolia 3500 years ago? No? Now that I’ve brought it up, are you curious to find out?

Well you’re in luck, because that’s just what this post is about. So sit back, close your eyes, and imagine yourself in Anatolia - that is, modern Turkey. Are you ready? Can you see the mountains, the red river and the towering buildings of your capital, Ḫattuša? Can you hear the chariots driving up the road? Can you feel the electric brewing of a storm in the distance?

Then let’s go.

(With a brief disclaimer: while I study Hittitology, this is not intended as an academic-level post. It was written to give general, approachable insights into Hittite culture and can be used as writing inspiration or to titillate curious history nerds around you, but if you’re writing an academic paper on the subject, I would recommend you check out the bibliography instead.)

About you

First things first, are you older than five? If so, congratulations on being alive. Child mortality in this place and time is very high, so you’re one of the luckier ones among your siblings. You probably have at least a couple of those; you may even have as many as six or seven, especially if you come from a well-to-do family with access to good healthcare. When you were little, your parents might have told you the tale of Zalpa, in which the queen of Neša gives birth to thirty sons then thirty daughters who marry each other, but you know this only happens in the stories - not to normal people.

When you were born, your parents rejoiced regardless of your sex, as sons and daughters are equally valued in your society (albeit for different reasons). Your father took you on his knee and gave you a good Hittite name: maybe Armawiya, Ḫarapšili, Kilušḫepa or Šiwanaḫšušar for a girl, or Anuwanza, Kantuzili, Muwaziti or Tarḫuzalma for a boy. Gender-neutral names, such as Anna, Muwa and Šummiri, would also have been an option. Many people around you have Hurrian or Luwian names, even if they are not ethnically Hurrian or Luwian themselves. (This is comparable to the modern popularity of Hispanic names like Diego, or French names like Isabelle.)

It’s hard to say what you would have done during childhood. While your earliest years would have been spent playing and babbling in grammatically incorrect Hittite, by the age of six or seven you may well have already started training in the family profession. If a girl, you would have been taught to weave by your mother; if a boy, you might have helped your father out on the farm, tried your hand at making pottery, or spent long hours learning cuneiform. (There may have been careers requiring gender non-conformity, as there was in Mesopotamia, but as far as I am aware this has not been proven.) You know that even the noblest children are given responsibilities - king Ḫattušili himself was once a stable boy.

Now, as an adult, you are a working professional contributing directly to Hittite society. You look the very portrait of a Hittite: as a woman, you have long, dark hair that you probably keep veiled, and as a man, your hair is around shoulder-length and your face clean-shaven. Ethnically, though, you are likely a mixture of Hittite, Luwian, Hurrian, Hattian, and depending on when and where exactly you live, maybe Assyrian, Canaanite or even Greek. There’s a fair chance Hittite might not actually be your native language. Still, you consider yourself a Hittite, and a subject of the Hittite king.

Well, now you know who you are, let’s get along with your day!

Your home and environment

Your day begins the way most people’s days do: you wake up at home, in your bed. As an average Hittite, you probably sleep on the floor rather than on elevated furniture. Your floor is either paved or of beaten earth, and your house itself has stone foundations and mud brick walls, with a flat roof supported by timber beams. Windows are scarce and small, to keep the indoor temperature stable.

Outside, the rest of the settlement is waking up too. Statistically, you live in a village or small town, surrounded by forest and mountains. Summers here are hot and dry, and winters cold and snowy, with spring and autumn being marked by thunderstorms. Most inhabitants work as farmers, relying on the weather for their survival. Contagious illnesses are a constant threat - under king Muršili II, the land suffered a deadly plague for twenty years - as are enemy invasions. If you live within the bend of the red river, in the Hittite heartland, consider yourself lucky; if not, your settlement could well be shifting from one kingdom’s property to another and falling prey to both sides’ raids on a yearly basis.

Admitting no enemy forces are in the area today, you take your time to get up. You might tiredly stumble to the outhouse to go pee. Eventually, you’ll want to get dressed.

Clothing

As a man, your clothes comprise of a kilt or sleeved tunic, with a belt of cloth or leather. As a woman, you wear a long dress and, if you are married, a veil. All clothing is made from wool or linen, and a variety of dyes exist: red, yellow, blue, green, black and white are all colours mentioned in texts. If you are rich enough, you may be able to import purple-dyed fabric from Lazpa (Greek Lesbos) or the Levant. You will also want to flaunt your wealth with jewellery, regardless of gender.

Of course, your shoes have upturned ends in the Hittite style. Historians will tease you for this. Don’t listen to them. You look awesome.

Mealtime!

It’s now time for one of your two daily meals (the other will take place in the evening, after your work for the day is done). This will be prepared at the hearth, a vital element of every home, and which is likely connected to an oven. The staple of your diet is bread; in fact, it is so common that “bread”, in cuneiform texts, is used as a general term for food. It is usually made from wheat or barley, but can also be made from beans or lentils.

Worried you’ll get bored of it? You needn’t be: your society has enough types of bread that you could eat a different one each day for a whole season. Fig bread, sour bread, flat bread and honey bread are just some of your options, along with spear bread and moon bread... yes, in other words, baguettes and croissants. (Something tells me the Hittites and the French would have a lot to talk about.)

You also have various fruits and vegetables available: cucumber, leek, carrots, peas, chickpeas, lentils, beans, olives, figs, dates, grapes, pomegranates, onions, garlic, and more. Your diet is completed by animal products, including cheese, milk, butter, and meat, mainly from sheep and goats but also cows and wild game. Honey, too, is common.

These ingredients can be combined into all sorts of dishes. Porridge is popular, as are stews, both vegetarian and meat-based. Meat can also be broiled and quite possibly skewered onto kebabs. And of course, food would be boring without spices, so you have a variety of those to choose from too: coriander are cumin are just two of them.

As for drinks, you can have beer, wine, beer-wine (good luck figuring out what that is), milk or water. If you’re well-to-do enough, you may own a rhyton, a drinking vessel shaped like an animal such as a stag or bull. Don’t forget to libate to the Gods before drinking your share.

Daily work

The next thing on your plate, after food, is work. What you do depends on your social status and gender, and most likely, you do the same work as your parents did before you. You could be something well-known like a king, priest, scribe, merchant, farmer or slave, but don’t assume those are all the possibilities; you could also be, for example, a gardener, doctor, ritual practitioner, potter, weaver, tavern keeper, or perfume maker.

It’s impossible to go into detail on every career option you would have in Hittite society, so for the sake of brevity, let’s just discuss four - two male-dominated, and two female-specific.

Farmer

As a farmer, you are the backbone of your society. You and your peers are responsible for putting food on the plates of Hittites everywhere, thus ensuring the survival of the empire.

Like many farmers, you live on a small estate, most likely with both crops (or an orchard) and livestock to take care of. You may own cows, sheep, goats, pigs, horses, donkeys, and/or ducks. Your daily routine and tools aren’t that different from other pre-industrial cultures, though you have it a little rougher than most due to the Anatolian mountain terrain. If you have the means, you hire seasonal workers - both male and female - to help out as farmhands, and you may own a few slaves.

You get up early to milk the cows, and at the onset of summer, you or a hired herdsman may lead your livestock up to mountain pastures to graze. Depending on the season and the work that needs to be done, you may spend your day ploughing the fields, harvesting grain or fruit, tending livestock, shearing sheep, birthing a calf, repairing the barn, or various other tasks. Make sure to take proper care of everything: new animals are expensive, and losing one could get you into a precarious situation. In particular, you’ll want to keep an eye out for bears, wolves, foxes, and even lions and leopards.

Scribe

Few people are literate in Hittite society, and you are one of the lucky ones. You have been learning to read and write in three languages (Sumerian, Akkadian and Hittite) since childhood, and after long years of copying lexical lists and ancient myths, your education is now complete.

As a scribe, you are the dreaded bureaucrat. In a small town, you likely work alongside the town administrator, recording tax collections and enemy sightings as well as corresponding with other towns, and with the capital. You and your peers are the go-to people for officialising marriage agreements and divorces, drawing up work contracts, and creating sales receipts. If not in the town administration, you could also work in a temple, recording the results of oracles, cross-checking the correct procedures for a ritual, and making sure everything necessary for a festival is available. If you are particularly lucky, you may be employed by the nobility or even the palace, and be entrusted with such confidential tasks as writing the king’s annals or drafting an international treaty.

Regardless of where you are, two things are essential to your job: a stylus and a tablet. You may be a “scribe of the clay tablets”, in which case you will need to carry around a bit of clay wherever you go (and some water to moisten it). Otherwise, you are a “scribe of the wooden tablets”, in which case you use a wax tablet in a wooden frame, which requires less maintenance. It’s unclear whether these types of tablet are used for different purposes.

Fun fact: you likely have a few pen pals around the Hittite empire. After corresponding with other scribes for so long, you’ve started writing each other messages at the bottom of your tablets, asking each other how you’re doing and to say hi to each other’s families. Your employers needn’t know.

Weaver

Weaving, to a Hittite like you, is the quintessential female activity, along with textile-making in general. Like farming, this is a backbone of your society: without weaving, there would be no clothes, and without clothes, well, you can’t do much.

As a weaver, you produce textiles for your family and in many cases also for sale. You work in an atelier within your home, along with the other women of the household, keeping an eye on your smallest children as they play nearby. While your husband, brothers or sons may transport and sell your handiwork, you are the head of your own business.

You are skilled in multiple weaving techniques, and can do embroidery and sew fabric into various shapes (including sleeves - take that, Classical Greeks). You create clothing for all sorts of occasions, including rituals and festivals, outdoor work, and winter weather, and if you are lucky enough to be commissioned by the nobility, you put your best efforts into clothing that will show off their status. Don’t try to cheat anyone out of their money, though; prices are fixed by law.

Old Woman

Contrary to what you might expect, you don’t need to be old to be an Old Woman - this is a career just like any other, though it probably does require a certain amount of life experience and earned respect. As an Old Woman, you are a trained ritual practitioner and active in all sorts of cultic, divinatory and magical ceremonies.

Most commonly, you are hired for rituals protecting against or removing evil. Your services may solve domestic quarrels, cure a sick child, or shield someone from sorcery (a constant threat in your society). This is done through symbolic acts like cutting pieces of string, breaking objects, and sacrificing and burning animals, which are of course accompanied by incantations - sometimes in Hittite, sometimes in other languages, like Hurrian.

Far from a village witch, you are high-placed in Hittite society and trusted by the royal family itself. You have taken part in major rituals and festivals, including funerals, and you perform divinatory oracles too. This last responsibility gives you a large amount of influence over the king and queen; if you establish that something should be done, then it almost certainly will be. Use this power well... or not.

Your loved ones

After a long day ploughing fields, writing tablets, weaving clothes or reciting incantations, it’s finally time to reunite with your loved ones. For adults, these likely - but not necessarily! - include a spouse and children. You may just live with your nuclear family, but living with extended family is also common, and there may be as many as twenty people in your household. Siblings, aunts and uncles, parents, grandparents, children and babies all share the evening meal with you, and some nights, you might gather afterwards to sing and dance, tell stories, and play games.

You also have relationships outside of home. Friendship is valued by Hittite society, with close friends calling each other “brother” and sister”. You might meet up with them regularly at the local tavern for a beer and a bit of fun. Someone there might even catch your eye... Interestingly, there are no laws against that person being of the same gender as you. So, same or different gender, why not try your luck tonight?

Greater powers

It’s impossible to spend a day in the Hittite empire without encountering religion. The Land of a Thousand Gods is aptly named: Gods are in everything, from the sun to the mountains to the stream at the back of your house to fire to a chair. You should always be conscious of their power, and treat them with respect. Though there are few traces of it, you may have a household shrine where you make libations or offer a portion of your meal. Your Gods may be represented by anthropomorphic statues, by animals such as a bull, by symbols such as gold disks, or even by a stone. Either way, treat these objects well; the divine is literally present in them.

You should also be wary of sorcery. Never make clay figures of someone, or kill a snake while speaking someone’s name, or you will face the death penalty. Likewise, always dispose of impurities carefully, especially those left over from a purification ritual (such as mud, ashes, or body hair). Never toss them onto someone else’s property. Has misfortune suddenly struck your household? Is your family or livestock getting sick and dying? These are signs that someone has bewitched you.

Some days are more sacred than others. You participate in over a hundred festivals every year, some lasting less than a day, some lasting a month, some local, some celebrated by the entire Hittite empire. The most important of these are the crocus festival and the purulli festival in spring, the festival of haste in autumn, and the gate-house festival, possibly also in autumn. The statues of the Gods are brought out of the temples, great feasts are held, and entertainment is provided through music, dance and sports contests. Depending on how important your town is, the king, queen or a prince might even be in attendance. All this excitement is a nice break from your regular work!

Sleep and dreams

Phew, what a busy day it’s been. The sun, snared in the trees’ branches, has set on the Hittite land, and you are ready for bed. Time to wrap yourself snugly in blankets and go to sleep.

You may dream, in which case, try to remember as much as you can. Dreams can be a vehicle for omens. Maybe, if the Gods are kind, you might catch a glimpse of what the next days, months and years hold in store for you.

Good night!

Bibliography

Beckman, Gary, “Birth and Motherhood among the Hittites”, in Budin, Stephanie Lynn, Macintosh Turfa, Jean, Women in Antiquity: Real Women across the Ancient World, Abingdon 2016 (pp. 319-328).

Bryce, Trevor, Life and Society in the Hittite World, Oxford 2002.

Bryce, Trevor, “The Role and Status of Women in Hittite Society”, in Budin, Stephanie Lynn, Macintosh Turfa, Jean, Women in Antiquity: Real Women across the Ancient World, Abingdon 2016 (pp. 303-318).

Golec-Islam, Joanna, The Food of Gods and Humans in the Hittite World, BA thesis, Warszawa 2016.

Hoffner, Harry A., “Birth and name-giving in Hittite texts”, Journal of Near Eastern Studies 27/3 (1968), pp. 198-203.

Hoffner, Harry A., “Daily life among the Hittites”, in Averbeck, Richard E., Chavalas, Marc W., Weisberg, David B., Life and Culture in the Ancient Near East, Bethesda 2003 (pp. 95-118).

Marcuson, Hannah, “Word of the Old Woman”: Studies in Female Ritual Practice in Hittite Anatolia, PhD thesis, Chicago 2016.

Wilhelm, Gernot, “Demographic Data from Hittite Land Donation Tablets”, in Pecchioli Daddi, Franca, Torri, Giulia, Corti, Carlo, Central-North Anatolia in the Hittite Period: New Perspectives in Light of Recent Research, Roma 2009 (pp. 223-233).

#Hittites #damn i love the hittites #ancient history #anatolia #history #infodump #i put so much effort into this please appreciate it

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harmonymurphy · 3 years

Text

And just for my records, I think I had the most profoundly disturbing dream of my life last night, about the sun failing. One of those dreams that wouldn’t be that disturbing to anyone I describe it to, and the physics was laughably illogical, but I’ve never experienced such a deep sense of existential dread inside a dream before. Probably one of those “you had to be there” experiences.

I’ve had dreams about serial killers after watching Forensic Files. I’ve had dreams of hauntings and demonic possessions after reading too many supposedly true ghost stories. But last night’s dream was the product of my fascination with astronomy. And that’s not something I’m willing to take a break from.

In my dream, I walked outside and noticed the lighting was wrong. It was like during an eclipse where everything is too dim but your shadow is still normal. I looked up at the sun, and it looked like Hoag’s Object. It was much bigger than it should have been, with the central part being a little bigger than a full moon, but it was dim enough that I could look right at it.

After a few minutes of panic, an emergency message was broadcast on all channels announcing that scientists at NASA had come up with a hypothetical way to study the sun’s core. They had discovered some sort of energy beam that would cause convective currents to dissipate. In my dream, the entire sun down to the edge of the core was convective. They thought if they zapped it at the sun, it would interfere with the convective layers and allow then to view the core directly. So they tried it without clearing it with the rest of the scientific community, and the beam completely shut down the sun’s convection. Not just the little spot they planned on, but the entire sun. What I could see up in the sky was the sun’s exposed core, the surrounding gas was now clear since it wasn’t producing light anymore, and the ring around the sun was the remnants of the sun’s corona. (Clearly my subconscious got really confused and squished together aspects of the sun, red dwarfs and white dwarfs, and the Trappist-1 system and how close those planets are to their sun. I’m actually a little embarrassed at how wrong the science was.)

So everyone started demanding they come up with a solution to fix the sun, and all they could come up with was maybe they could hit the sun with a nuke to restart the nuclear reactions, but it would take years for them to design and implement that plan, and they didn’t think they could produce an explosion big enough. And in the meantime, Earth was rapidly cooling. It was already feeling like late autumn outside and they expected the planet to go full Snowball Earth within twenty years. The dim light the sun’s core was putting out somehow couldn’t be used for photosynthesis by plankton, so the oceans were going to collapse by next year, and crops were going to start failing.

I went back outside and looked up at the sun again and started screaming for someone to please wake me up because this couldn’t be real. Then I had this epiphany that this was the solution to the Fermi Paradox: Every alien civilization eventually reached a point where they turned their sun off and their planet froze.

People started going crazy since everyone was going to die soon anyway. A big mob attacked our town and my sister and I were surrounded. Then this guy ran up to us and brandished this three-foot-tall sculpture made of metal plates and said it was an idol of a new god he had just discovered, and since science had betrayed us, the supernatural was our only hope. The mob attacked, and he started praying to his new god, and the sculpture zapped all the people trying to attack us. I started praying with him and briefly was able to shoot electricity out of my hands like the Emperor. After the mob fled, we got the rest of the town to form a circle and all started calling on the god, and up above us the sun’s core brightened for a few seconds, then dimmed again. The guy declared that the gods had forsaken us and all hope was truly lost, and he took his idol and left.

After that, the dream alternated between me discussing options with my sister, and going outside and begging someone to wake me up. We talked about finding the guy with the idol and getting the biggest group we could together to call on his god, but I eventually just sat down in the middle of a road and decided it was hopeless. There was no point in doing anything if we’d all be dead in twenty years. I was thinking about the books I want to write and how there was no point in that now. Every time I looked at the sun, I felt the same way I felt in the days after my father died, when I’d be kept up most of the night by panic attacks at the thought that he was gone forever. I didn’t know it was possible to feel that level of despair in a dream.

Eventually I started discussing suicide with my sister. We didn’t want to starve or freeze. Someone was handing out syringes of poison, and we each took one. But then I realized I’d have to put my chihuahua Rocky to sleep first because I refused to leave him by himself, and I just couldn’t do that. So we agreed we’d stay alive until Rocky died and then we’d end it. And then I realized I couldn’t find Rocky, and I was worried someone might try to eat him since there would be a food shortage soon, so my dream became one of those where you keep running and running but you never make any progress, and I kept looking up at the sun, consumed with the thought that everything was about to come to an end and all of human history was for nothing, and I just couldn’t believe this was actually happening to me.

And then my sister woke me up, and I have never been that happy to wake up in my life. I almost thanked her for waking me up, but then I realized I didn’t want to tell her about my dream. I just sat there and kept telling myself it was just a dream over and over, because no matter how bad and illogical the science was, no matter how backwards my mind got the details of how stars work, it had felt so real. I was going to sit with my sister while we ate supper, but I still felt so disturbed by the dream that I kept zoning out and staring off into space at nothing, so I decided to eat in my room alone.

I can point to a dozen little things from the past week that inspired the dream. Primarily it was based off my real fear of the future red giant phase of the sun - watching videos about it actually scares me. This week I had been thinking about a game called Outer Wilds that involves a time loop that always ends with their sun exploding, and while I think it looks interesting, the premise also stirs up my sense of existential dread. Other things were inspired by a song I had been listening to the previous night containing the line “I don’t want the sun to burn without you,” the Hadron Collider, stellar lifting (and probably several other things I learned about from Isaac Arthur that I’ll remember in the next few days), videos I’ve watched recently that discussed Snowball Earth and the evolution of plankton, the Chicxulub impact, that ongoing attempt to get a space probe to touch the sun with gravitational help from Venus that will take several years to complete, memories of my brother telling me scientists thought there might be a chance hydrogen bombs would ignite the atmosphere or the Van Allen belts but they blew them up anyway (never fact-checked that so don’t quote me), the concept of strange matter and how it could “infect” anything it touched, the danger of astrophysical jets from a supernova, and wondering if the sun could have habitable planets if it was fully convective like a red dwarf since the sun spins so slowly and a lot of those dangerous flares are a result of how fast red dwarfs spin. The weird supernatural elements were inspired by some stories I’ve been wanting to write lately, as well as my recent replay of the game Blue Fire with its very bleak setting and mythology. And a Youtuber I follow had recently read a creepypasta with a title that referenced solving the Fermi Paradox,

All in all, I would rather have a dozen nightmares about demons chasing me through the woods than one more nightmare based on science. I can still make myself shiver by focusing on how I felt when I looked up at the sun and realized the world was dying.

#Brevity is an alien concept to me #I wish I'd just dream about demons again #Sci-fi nightmares are so much worse

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ephemerlskies · 4 years

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thank you, colmar | myg

⇢ pairing: yoongi x reader

⇢ genre: drabble, established relationship, so much fluff it could be mistaken for a cloud...., very mild angst, long distance relationship, writer!yoongi

⇢ word count: 4.5k

⇢ warnings: explicit language, this is very PG to be honest

⇢ summary: long distance was a challenging feat to take on, though you and yoongi were sure you two would be the exception. since his leave, you had been counting down the days, hours, and minutes until you finally got the chance to visit him. little did you know, this visit was going to become the most memorable weekend of your life.

a/n: i can't even explain myself i'm SORRY.... but i am literally the softest yoongi stan ever known to man. it had to be done. this was purely for my own indulgence lmao. also yoongi? france? a concept.

Do you know the feeling of being outside during a sunset? Telling yourself, ‘I’m going to watch the sunset this time’ and being so sure that you won’t miss the sun’s gradual sinking beneath the horizon. Then, during the mess of dusk and life, you do miss it; the sky darkening before you can even realize the sun has already bid its farewell to the sky today. And, maybe if you spent less time ensuring that you would enjoy the sunset rather than simply enjoying it, you wouldn’t have to scold yourself to pay more attention tomorrow.

That’s how life felt with Yoongi.

You’d been caught up with existing, along with the countless sporadic surprises and thick responsibilities that came with it, and maybe you had taken the moments spent with him for granted, the moments you once promised you would cherish as they came. But what’s the good of regretting the past when it felt far less burdensome to just appreciate it all? Even when the time with Yoongi brisked by, as if it had somewhere better to be than right here with you, the memories were still there to cherish, retrospectively.

When you found out Yoongi had seized the opportunity to study abroad in a small, French city just a car ride away from the German border, you felt like you, again, had only been able to see the rounded edge of the sun before it ducked beneath the land; then it was gone.

You tried to be happy for him, you were happy for him, and you shoved your newfound resentment of France and Colmar, the city he’d be residing in for the next two years, into a shameful yet not so secret compartment of your brain. Your smile had worked against you, becoming transparently saddened when he told you the news.

Yoongi asked if you were okay with this, to imply that had the moral choice to say no. Any and every ounce of you would have thought it vile to keep him from such an accomplishing triumph towards his career as a writer. To you, there was no way you could take that away from him. And you told him that, to which he responded that no other thing in the world would tilt him away from what you wanted of him.

For some reason, that was painful to hear. You didn’t want Yoongi to say that, not because it layered more pressure on your decision but because he offered this as if it were no bigger of a compromise than cleaning spilled water and you despised the idea of being the reason he would put an end to his dreams. You wanted to be the reason he chased them. So, that's what you were. A martyr for sake of selfless love, marching into the battle of a long distance relationship.

Two years was tough, but it was something you were capable of. It was something that wasn’t going to be the final destination of your journey with him, just a speed bump to create some turbulence to happily ever after. Although, you believed happily ever after had happened the moment you met him.

But then again, the opportunity of visiting Yoongi in Colmar felt awfully similar to happily ever after. One fifteen hour plane ride, what felt like another fifteen hour car ride - though it was most likely only an hour or so, and a listless walk to the house where he was staying later and you released a guttural sigh that the hardest part was over. The anticipation of seeing him after each bi-weekly, late night phone and Skype call and far too much distance for your liking had passed, though slowly and just as lonesome as those five months apart from him. All you had to do now was walk into the door.

And again, seeing him with his hair a mess and dressed in the same shirt he’d lounge in at your apartment had dethroned yet another happily ever after.

The first embrace had your muscles feeling the most relaxed it had felt since the last gut wrenching farewell-hug at the airport. The long journey, the countless shed tears over missing him was not as heavy in your mind; his arms carried the weight of your body like none of the loneliness and worries were your burden to bear anymore and all you could give in return was to bring your wearied hands to run against his scalp, through his freshly-washed hair. The air of this French Summer night was meager, pathetic, compared to the warmth of Yoongi’s body. How his lips dragging kisses along your jaw and cheek made you want to mock how the Summer in France couldn’t possibly equate to his kind of amorous heat.

You and him walked hand in hand along the cobblestoned streets of Colmar. The Renaissance Houses, parked two rows on each side as far as your eyes could see, had decorated the riviera fittingly. Strangers of France glared with objection to you being here, and with Yoongi it had almost slipped your mind that the French weren’t fond of tourists. Maybe this short walk wasn't enjoyable in the slightest, the eyes of judgement and turned backs gripped your throat with discomfort. Maybe it wouldn’t have been worth it if you weren't hand in hand with the love of your life. But that was quite a hefty maybe.

The subtle brush of his thumb along the backside of your palm withered away every set of eyes that blistered against your skin into nothing but a lighter, less noticeable brush than his finger. As you moved through the town with him, your resentment of France and Colmar moved with you however quieter than it had before. It trailed behind, waiting to pass through and in front of you the moment you had to leave him again. As of now, you couldn’t resent France being ingested in its beauty, where your hand was being held by Yoongi.

He had pointed out every restaurant and shop that he planned to take you to and spoke of the kind family housed across the riviera, and how they’d been helping him with his French. Young children found it fascinating and esteemed to teach someone older than them; Yoongi had taken quite a liking to the excitement they would share while spouting random words in French during their almost daily lessons.

“Tu es mon amour.” With his rich, low voice he whispered some phrases that he said reminded him of you. This was thoughtful enough that it had you treasuring the intimacy of it all. It was his way of offering a little pocket of romance to feed your heart when it felt starved of him, which it often did; Yoongi had never been anything less than generous with his thoughtfulness.

“Miel.”

“What does that mean?”

“Honey.”

“Sucré. Sweet.” That resounding tingle in your stomach had nearly disoriented you, soon traveling to the soft of your cheek where he had left a warmer-than-Summer kiss. How could you forget that this was what it always felt like with him? Perhaps you were still too busy shaming the French Summer’s radiance as inadequate in comparison to Yoongi's lips and hand.

“Belle, doux, éternal. Any guesses?”

“Nope!”

“Beautiful, gentle, forever.”

You clung to his arm, feeling as though if you let go you could drift away into the black riviera, separating two halves of the same street. Now, you had been on the side with Yoongi. And the riviera had littered reflections of the stars and moon in its body similar to how Yoongi littered his delicious words along the streets of Colmar. Walking down and down, hand in hand with Yoongi and soon the first night together in five months had coalesced with the end of the road.

You fell asleep from the pure exhaustion afflicting your limbs and eyelids, without more than a ‘Goodnight’ and ‘I’ve missed you’ to Yoongi as he found his rightful beside you. Sleeping next to you, the light snore of your jaded breath was quiet compared to the deafening silence of his empty bed that dragged him into fits of insomnia. Your company had been consumed by his longing heart to full capacity and now he thought to himself he would never have to eat again because your presence had proven to be plentiful in feeding his hunger for this lifetime and the next.

Yoongi sealed the night with a loving kiss on your forehead before joining in your slumber, bodies touching to make up for five months of space. There was no need for space right now. Even though you had been all the way across the world just days ago, being a millimeter away from you now was far too straining and gaping of a distance. Through the night, there was never a moment when a part of him was not laced between a part of you, and even in a state of sleep he thanked the heavens for that.

---

The noise of the outside clamor, the argumentative honking of cars and utterances of pedestrians failed to tear you from your sleep. Neither the warm air leaking through the opened window nor the ripe morning sun piling over the bed sheets conspired in your awakening. It was the symphonic lullabies emitting from the record player that seeped into your dreams and lulled you awake with its gentle jazz music and had you sitting up. Then, it was the sweet mix of smells trailing from the kitchen that had you fully conscious and remembering where you were and who you were with, along with the all too apparent absence in the bed.

The riviera looked alive this morning. People walked down the streets joyfully like there was something other than your reunion with Yoongi to be worthy of celebration. As sunlight melted your skin to a light sweat, you pulled yourself from under the covers and inhaled the sweet, warm aromas from sources you couldn’t quite place.

Not long after you had awoken, Yoongi returned with a tray of food and a smile so wide it could be seen by everyone in Colmar. Unluckily for them, this smile surfaced just for you. He set the tray in front of your eyes and mouth that were both watering at the lovely little display of his work.

“How was your sleep, baby?” Spoken as light as the air and harmoniously with the music, he found a spot across from you and brought your hand to his lips.

“The best sleep I’ve had in five months. You?” The feeling of his smile against the back of your hand could have outdone the smoothest velvets and sleekest silks and softest wools in the world.

“Me too. Let’s eat.” The release of your hand had you groaning and crossing your legs to stare at the selection of food. “I got us some croissants from the bakery just a block from here, strawberry jam, grapes, and brioche bread with some brie cheese. French people know how to cook, that's for sure.”

“Yoongi, you got all of this today?” A mix of guilt and gratefulness churned in your head but he only laughed to mend the crimination against your own need for rest.

“Honey, you just got out from a long plane ride to visit me. It was the least I could do. Plus, I was up early anyway so I thought this would be a good use of my time.” From the looks of it, all the food was fresh. He implied this did not require as much effort as you thought, not nearly as much effort as enduring air travel.

It was then when the breach of emotional labor had been closed. You and him always forged your relationship through mutuality, whether that entailed trust, comfort, support, or intention, there was never a moment when one gave too much and one gave not enough. The never ceasing equity and balance filtered through the gaps you thought could never be closed. You were always enough for him and he was always enough for you; that had been your normal with him.

Sunday morning, in France, in Colmar, sitting in the sun kissed bedroom and watching the waters run down the trench, eating the sweet fruits and flavors of the town could have fooled you into thinking this could be forever. A brief moment strung together a temporary kind of eternity; your eyes were never seized for too long by the sights of France, your mind purged of the resentment towards Colmar as of now. Your soul had been enamoured entirely by Yoongi, and you refused to let yourself miss the sunset. Not this time.

Little by little, the food had been eaten through the morning. Through the small, delightfully insignificant topics discussed between you and Yoongi. This was what you missed the most, you thought. Being with him, talking about the small things no other would ever think to mention, and those small things became more important than a necessity. He dusted the shallowness from your ‘small things’ and made them meaningful through his genuine care. So, how could you stop yourself from sharing with him your whole world?

“I have a new hobby.”

“And you’re just telling me now?” He tossed a grape into his mouth in suspense of your answer with a tone that made it seem like it had been some sort of life line kept from him.

“Well, I wanted to surprise you with it.” The suddenness of your leap to retrieve said surprise had further drawn from Yoongi a desperation to know what you had been talking about. After a bit of digging in your suitcase, a victorious smile followed when you found it.

Yoongi felt his arms move to pull you onto his lap by an unknown force generated well beyond his own will. As if his body was now governed by his love for you, his love to be near you and hold you, rather than his own mind.

“I make little clay figures now. And before you say it, yes I am losing my mind just a little.” In your hand laid a miniature bear, slightly deformed from a lack of skill and inexperience with these kinds of things. “I have to do something because you’re not around to bother when I’m bored!” It wasn't perfect, in fact it was far from it. The body was unsymmetrical and the limbs had been a bit misshapen more sausage-like rather than arm-like, and nonetheless Yoongi took it between his index and thumb finger with the prudence and excitement of one who was holding the most precious gem in the world.

“___, this is the dumbest and cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” He rotated the little bear between his fingers, memorizing each painted detail. Imagining you impulse buying loads of supplies and binging tutorials on instructions to make these had his stomach burning from his eruption of sweet laughter.

His other hand was hooked around your waist and his chin sat on your shoulder. The blend of jazz in the morning and Yoongi’s laughs induced you to a state of entrancement, nodding off in his loving muse of physical affection. Finally being able to touch him and hear his voice unencumbered by low quality microphones of video calls was something you could easily re-assimilate to, but at the same time you were afraid of the comfort this had sheltered you with; you knew that being in France would only last a weekend before you had to leave this asylum from solitude. Then, it was back to muffled conversations and fingers stroking the pictures of him on your phone’s screen rather than the plush of his cheeks and arms.

“Please tell me there are more of these.” The whispers lovingly grazed the nape of your neck so that you reattached to reality. You tried to hold in the tears and the fact that you were already missing him, feeling like another sunset had drifted from your grasp.

“There are, but I brought this one for you.” He thanked you with a warm kiss, you returned your welcome through a soft caress of his cheek and pushed his lips deeper into you. You hoped maybe his kiss would imprint into your skin; that during moments of the day where you couldn’t come to distract yourself with work or friends and when you would lie awake at night from the harrowing torment of the missing body in your queen-sized bed, you could touch your hand to your cheek embedded with the memory of his lips and that would somehow requite this aching as if he were really there.

“I love it, thank you. What should we name him?” Yoongi hadn’t removed his lips from the side of your face, knowing you longed for him to never pull away, and that this unsaid desire was mutual as everything always was.

“Yoongi Jr. has a nice ring to it, don't you think? He certainly takes after his dad!” You held his hand and moved it next to his face to compare the two. “The resemblance is uncanny.”

“Mm, no he’s too cute. He definitely takes after his mom.”

“Looks like we’re at a standoff.” You said with the interest of getting your way.

“What about a compromise?” Your nod of agreeance to this suggestion had struck him with inspiration. “What about Miel? You know ‘cuz bears like honey?”

“Babe, you don't have to explain it.”

“I was just making sure you got it!”

God, he was so cute.

“Yoongi, what would you do if I told all your friends that you're secretly a softie?” In a fit of bashfulness, he fell back onto the bed with a chuckle. You had sprawled out over him, legs woven in with his and hands tugging the soft shirt over his torso. The rise and fall of his chest had your head, resting over it, rising and falling. Your head didn’t rise and fall back home without him. It was stagnant, miserable, waiting to rise and fall with his chest again.

“I think I would have to kill you.” He joked while pulling you in closer.

“Okay, okay, your secret’s safe with me. And Miel is a cute name for our little child.” Yoongi had been in a league of his own when it came to sweeping you off your feet. You couldn't specify when it happened, but the gradual notion of assurance that he was something of a forever presence in your life had become the only thing in the world that stood entirely unequivocal. This certainty solidified through every moment you spent with him, especially this one.

“Well, Miel! Welcome to our little family.” He said as he waddled the little figure along his chest in front of where your eyes laid. You smiled as Miel pranced before your rising and falling head.

It might be illogical to try at a long distance relationship that was only subdued with sparse and abbreviated visits. The nightmarish idea that only once every five or six months could you afford to visit him for less than a week had made it more than sensible to end it before the pain had grown too immense. On paper, that was the rational choice. But when he held you, when he bestowed an endless supply of kisses, when he did cute things just to see you smile, there was no stopping yourself from exempting all reason and rationality.

“You are the love of my life, you know that?” This had taken him by surprise. If it were possible, Yoongi was sure he had fallen in love with you all over again. The way you carried yourself with such conviction turned him from someone who could never quite settle on any decisions or beliefs to someone who had the strength to be sure in every step he took and that you and him would make it through two years of Colmar; that you and him would always make it.

“___, I- I need to get this off my chest.” He sounded hesitant, withholding of some secret. Your worry came to a peak, your mind brewing a cluster of doubt that maybe he hadn’t felt like all this pain was worth it. His breathing halted, along with the rise and fall of his chest and your head. Swallowed in the pounding of your heart, you sat up in hopes this would help obtain grounding for what was about to come.

Was this it? Was this visit the last before a goodbye that would turn the empty space in your bed into a permanence? Had you been teetering on the last of your relationship, and is this him finally stepping away for you to fall to the end of it?

But it slipped your mind in this moment. That unmistakable habit of Yoongi’s to always, without fault, sweep you off your feet.

He'd been fumbling over himself to get to his desk drawer which wrung out more suspense from you. You, still drowning in your own self-pity and imagination, were choked with tears and the rock now lodged in your throat, wishing he would just get it over with.

A part of you hoped it was because he met some beautiful French person that earned his affection because it would be unbearable to hear that it had been you that just wasn’t enough for him anymore. That your love wasn’t worth the endurance and the pain of missing you.

Anything but that, you prayed, let it be anything but that. You hated France and Colmar and writing now more than ever.

He interrupted your wallowing with an arm hidden behind his back that seemed unable to hold steady due to his shaking, effectively turning your attention to this oddly nervous behavior.

“Wh- What is it…” This came out less as a question and more as an urge for him to get on with the heartbreak that you had played out in your head about a hundred times since he said he needed to ‘get something off his chest’.

“I um,” He cleared his throat and sighed like the abundance of warm air in Colmar was not sufficient in giving nearly enough oxygen to thaw his frozen lungs. “I love you so much, ___. And I know we haven’t even finished college yet and I have over a year left in France but I don't think I can continue without doing this right now. Every bone in my body has been bruised for not doing this sooner.”

Oh god, here it comes.

“Will you marry me?” And just like that, he’d bulldozed you to pieces and not in the way you’d expected; never in the ways you’d expected. One would think you would be able to predict this pattern of behavior from him, but you laid on the floor, defenseless, in shock, and absolutely swept off your feet - again.

“What…” If you could go back and slap the sense into yourself to say yes, you would have. But life doesn’t give you those choices. It gave you a dumbfounded expression and a measly ‘what…’.

“Before you say no!” He opened the velvet lined box to reveal a simple ring with a marquise cut opal jewel and two round diamonds on each edge of it. The stone of your birth month, again his thoughtfulness had you tumbling over and over. “I know spending our first month of engagement halfway across the world is dumb. To literally anyone else it is stupid and horribly timed. But not me.”

“Yoongi-” Lowered onto his knee, he fondled your hand with his; the same one holding Miel who was now clasped between the two hands. Your hearts beat in a perfect synchronicity, more so than the jazz music playing in the background and the sun’s waltz with the ripples of the riviera.

“Being here, without you, has made me realize something. It put into perspective what life would be like without you. And, God, it’s nothing compared to what I imagine a life without writing. Hell itself looks like paradise compared to all the heavens without you, ___. And when you call me or text me or send me pictures of what you’re eating for lunch, that just…” He blinked away the wetness threatening to leak from his eyes. You, on the other hand, had thrown all restraint to the wind as streams were now trickling down your face, dampening the clothing beneath your chin.

“You have no idea how much your effort means to me, baby. How kind and understanding and patient you have been has pushed me to stay here. You don't know how often I fear you think I chose writing over you. Never- I don’t. I choose you. Every time I will always choose you. I will choose the forty eight hour visits and the five months of being apart and the spells of monumental loneliness. I would choose to live ten, hundreds, thousands of lives if that meant I could spend at least an hour with you. But that’s not the case, is it? I have the chance to spend this life with you, so I’d be damned if I let that go to waste. I love you, ___. No, I’m in love with you and I didn’t realize the two were any different until I met you. I want to be with you forever. I know this to be the only truth I can confidently place all bets on. So again, will you, ___, marry me?”

His lips, tongue, and body had again not moved from his own will, no; he finally realized it had to be influenced by something far more powerful. With you, because of you, Yoongi moved through life by love. Although he had the mind of a writer, with every word at his fingertips and the ability to stack one on top of another in a way that could move the masses, this proposal was not of the mind of a writer. It was driven by the love of a lover. All of his words were a medicine to cleanse your ears diseased of shameful distrust in his love. The love that just devoted the rest of its life to you.

“Yes.” You announced to the world, but not the world of Colmar. To Yoongi, who was your world now. “Yes, fuck. Yes, yes, yes, yes.” In the midst of your repetitions, he scooped your body in his arms and held you against him tighter than ever before and he noted that moving through love had that effect; holding tighter, kissing deeper, speaking kinder.

“I love you. I love you, Yoongi.” Now through sobs, he couldn’t bring himself to resist how you had been beckoning the affection from his heart.

Would it slip out of his chest and seep into yours? Would his affection ever translate with the same intensity that it had ridden his heart? It did more than that, unbeknownst to him; it convened with your affection of identical fervor and flooded the riviera of Colmar above the length of the trench, above the cobblestone streets alongside it, above the rooftop of the renaissance house surrounding you, flowing all the way the sunset that seemed to be the only thing you could see right now. In your eyes, there was the most beautiful sunset and there was Yoongi.

“Je t’aime, mon amour.” He slipped your fourth digit on your left hand through the ring. The cold metal encasing your finger was a new sensation, the first and last promise on this chaste finger. The only one that felt perfectly fitting and destined to be there.

And suddenly, your resentment for Colmar and France and writing had been inflamed by a tender appreciation. For being the place where you had been engaged to Yoongi and giving perspective to both of you, that distance has nothing to be discouraged of and instead, it would forge a bond of unparalleled resilience. For anointing your heart with a riviera of pure and true love, and vowing a lifetime of vibrant sunsets to witness. To that, all you could say was:

Thank you, Colmar. Thank you.

#bts fanfic #bangtanarmynet #btsgoldnet #bts writing #bts fluff #bts angst #bts long distance au #BTS suga #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #yoongi fluff #yoongi fanfic #yoongi angst #yoongi drabble #writer!yoongi #rubycoast #thank you colmar

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hexandbalances · 4 years

Text

Visiting Salem

A few years ago I traveled to Salem for Halloween week. It was a fun trip but not at all the quaint town I had expected. And it was busy. Salem eagerly leans into its witch history and new age spiritualism, sporting many psychic readings and occult shops. To be honest, a large part of my stay was spent walking, shopping, and eating so I didn’t get to visit as quite as many museums as I would have liked. I’ve included a brief review of some of the places I stopped in at while I was there:

Jolie Tea - this was tucked away from the Essex Street pedestrian mall, which made it the perfect place to escape the crowds and blustery wind. They had a selection of seasonal tea blends made in shop. I stopped in several times and took several pounds of tea back as a visiting gift for my aunt. I know it’s an odd compliment but I’m in love with their upholstery and the wallpaper in their restroom. Very limited seating (only 3 tables, one of which only seats two people), but quiet enough at the times I went as to not be a problem.

Count Orlok’s Nightmare Gallery - located on Essex street (the main thoroughfare, foot traffic only) this gallery houses memorabilia and trivia from classic and modern horror cinema. I recommend it if you fancy yourself a horror movie buff. Tickets were $9 for adults and did not need to be purchased in advance. The tour is self guided, walk in any time.

O'Neill’s Pub & Restaurant - honestly I popped in here just intending to use the facilities and get off my feet for a bit but they sell the best pumpkin ale I’ve had to date. The rim is dusted with cinnamon sugar and the head is dusted with a crescent moon of spice. I enthusiastically returned twice a day for the duration of the trip (I was on holiday after all). Their shepherd’s pie was quite good and the waitresses were happy to share insider advice on the best places to park, how to avoid traffic, etc.

Howard Street Cemetery - I visited this cemetery under the impression that the headstone for Giles Corey was there. It wasn’t. There was a memorial at one time but it was toppled by a vandal in 2015. Nevertheless it was a nice, quiet place to stop and take a breather from the crowds.

The Witch House - this is a bit of a misnomer as the house belonged to Jonathan Corwin, one of the judges of the trials. The house is the only structure left in the city that has direct ties to the trials and gives a much more authentic impression of daily life. The tour is self guided but there are volunteers stationed throughout ready to talk about particular items or history of the individuals that resided there. They have a limited capacity they’re required to stick to because of the house’s age so you may be in for a bit of a wait if you catch it during a busy hour. Tickets are about $10 for adults, sold in the gift shop.

Salem Witch Museum - They start the tour by seating visitors in a dark theatre. A recording plays, lighting up vignettes at scheduled points. These vignettes are maybe roughly 9 feet up from where you will be seated, not in sequential order, and cover a full 360° so swiveling your head up and around to find it is necessary. The recording and displays are rather dated; my guess is that they haven’t been changed since the museum’s founding in 1972 (to be honest I was rather expecting Vincent Prince to narrate). After this the group is lead into a small gallery with various placards and pop culture and news printouts. A guide will deliver a brief monologue and then you are free to view the gallery or filter into the gift shop.

I was rather perturbed that the museum spent effort linking hysteria of the Salem witch trials to McCarthyism (and any other time the American media described a thing as a “witch hunt”) but did not give but the briefest lip service to the misogyny that drove the witch trials and the selection of its victims. Anxiety about attacks from indigenous people were mentioned, but nothing of the political tension of territory and property lines, the disputes between Salem and its many pastors, or the institution of witchcraft as a prosecutable offense in a court of common law by King James. For a museum on the trials it was very light on the details. I found more information available in the gift shop’s surprisingly thorough selection of books. You do have to buy tickets ($21 adults) somewhat in advance for tours that rotate on (I think) 45 minute intervals.

Peabody Essex Museum - The Peabody Essex Museum is huge and hosts art and history exhibits. When I visited they had an exhibit on Qing Dynasty empresses and had just finished reconstructing brick by brick, tile by tile, a real Qing Dynasty ancestral home imported from Huizhou, China, Salem’s sister city. General admission is $20 for adults.

The Hocus Pocus House - The house used for the exterior of Max and Dani’s in the 1993 movie is a popular stop but it is quite a long walk away from the main tourist hub. I’m sure there are bus tours that would take you there, but like the spendthrift I am, I hoofed it. You can’t enter the house as it is a private residence so taking photos from across the street is the best you can get. The benefit of walking are the scenic views (at last! The quaint town I had imagined!) and meeting a neighbor a few doors down. She had fashioned a hedge from seashells and had delightful watchdog whose name escapes me, save that it was compound and started with “Sir.” I caught her outside gardening - or rather she caught me - and had a chat about the house, tourists, and living in Salem.

Witch City Mall - free multi-story parking! Get there early.

The Coven’s Cottage - Tools, ingredients, books, and more with an exclusive focus on Asatru.

HausWitch Home + Healing - prime example of the self-care industry meets new age spiritualism.

Artemisia Botanicals - Every powdered or raw ingredient you could likely hope for. I saw advertisements for their tea reading service but none was offered when I visited.

Hex Old World Witchery - a sister store to the one in New Orleans. It sells tools, spell ingredients, enchanted candles, jewelry, and some very jaunty pointed hats for ladies and gents.

Life Alive Organic Cafe - Organic vegan cafe. It has the Sanderson Sisters painted as vegetables on their window.

Opus - A fusion restaurant. The food was amazing and the service was great. They have live shows in their basement level. A perfect place for cocktails.

Adriatic Restaurant - Mediterranean and Italian fare. Decent, but pricey.

Caramel Pasteries & Macarons - Easily the best macarons in town. They also sell ice cream and a limited selection of coffee and tea.

The Satanic Temple Headquarters - Baphomet had just returned from his extended stay in Arkansas. The connected Salem Art Gallery and library was also open, and there were some rather striking vine and wicker sculpture work to greet you. And as expected, the people were quite friendly and helpful with recommendations for what else to do and see in Salem. The only downside is that it is a bit of a hike from downtown, but a much shorter one than the Hocus Pocus house. Self-guided tour is $15 for adults.

Street vendors - there are many of these out and about close to Halloween. You can buy whole bags (and whole bags only) of apple cider donuts and other goodies. Not something I normally go for but it was enjoyable. Bring cash.

Additional notes

There are loads of people in costume days before Halloween. If you are shyly deliberating on whether or not to pack a costume, you needn’t think on it further. Do it and have fun, my darling.

However, I should warn you that if you are one of those that plans to wave a movie replica wand at traffic while shouting bad Latin, I can assure you that you aren’t the first to attempt this and the drivers will not be patient with you. Better to hustle along.

Salem has a noise ordinance that goes into affect at 10 PM on Halloween night. According to the local waitresses most folks don't begin to trickle into town until 10 AM or so that day.

Essex street is cobbled, please wear comfortable shoes.

Shop around! There are many shops selling largely the same merchandise. By and large you'll see the same prices but if you've got a sharp enough eye you can save yourself a bit of cash.

Reserve your stay, wherever it is, AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. I reserved in January and still had to book a room 20 minutes away, which required a car rental.

Speaking of which, if you're driving in from outside Salem, the lanes merge and disappear frequently and it can be a little stressful. Most of the drive into Salem is single lane through neighborhoods - school bus traffic included.

The temperature in late October is mild but the wind chill coming off the sea makes it feel at least 10°F cooler. And it’s quite windy - wear your hair up. Preferably add a hat lest you show up on someone’s doorstep looking like Sadako, as I did.

#travel #traveling witch #salem #witchblr #halloween #hocus pocus #satanic temple #salem massachusetts #samhain

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raereview · 3 years

Text

A Writer in Her Early Twenties Writing About Smoking Cigarettes and Feeling Inferior? …Groundbreaking

an essay I wrote in November of 2020 as I was nearing graduation from Columbia College-Chicago

You know when a bug gets stuck on its back and its little legs start flailing and it frantically rocks back and forth trying to flip back over? That’s how I’ve been feeling recently.

I started smoking cigarettes again to calm me down because smoking weed always makes me have an unwanted existential crisis. In high school, I loved smoking cigarettes because it made me feel like an adult. I dreamed of being someone like Carrie Bradshaw; smoking cigarettes at parties and being so terribly interesting that I only had to write one column a week to pay for a lavish lifestyle. That dream was only amplified when an English teacher wrote on one of my assignments in red ink that she wanted to read my memoir one day. After that, I smoked cigarettes my friends would steal from their stepdads, while I waited impatiently to turn 18 so I could be an adult, leave my hometown, and become a real writer.

Now I’m 21 and can legally buy cigarettes in the city of Chicago. I bought a pack of American Spirits two days after the 2020 Presidential Election because my anxiety was getting high and I couldn’t. I tell myself they are better than regular cigarettes— even though it clearly says on the package they aren’t. Just holding a cigarette is sex to me (I never describe things as sex, but my first Creative Writing professor used to, and she sounded so fucking cool when she did). I always feel dizzy after the first couple hits. I can’t imagine that’s normal. I know that weed is probably better for my body, but I like that no one judges me for not inhaling correctly like they do with weed. I can let the smoke barely touch my lungs before I puff it out of my lips, and no one says a goddamn thing. And so maybe it’s just the action of smoking, but I always feel calmer by the time I put out the cigarette, leaving behind that black mark and bits of ash.

On the 13th of November, Phoebe Bridgers and Maggie Rogers released a cover of “Iris” by Goo Goo Dolls because Bridgers tweeted that she would do so if Biden won the election. I didn’t recognize the song based off the title, but after a quick google search, I remembered hearing it on the radio growing up. It’s got one of those choruses that feels like it was written to be screamed at the top of your lungs in the car with the windows rolled down. I paid $1.50 for the song on Bandcamp (the proceeds went to Fair Fight), then I grabbed my pack of cigarettes, and went out to my back porch to listen to it. I’d barely been able to get out of bed all week, but I knew the cover needed my full attention because I recently became a “stan” of Phoebe Bridgers.

For a while I felt as if Phoebe was someone I knew through a friend of a friend; we ran in the same circles, but never really crossed paths. I adore Hayley Williams and Phoebe’s vocals were on my favorite song on her new album, most of the music I listen to is indie and makes you want to cry which is how you could describe her music, and her lowercase tweets always showed up on my timeline. I knew I’d become acquainted with her eventually, I just wanted to be ready; I had a premonition she’d change my life. I wanted us to fall into each other at the perfect moment.

Sometime in late June or early July, I was laying on the futon in my sister’s spare bedroom, staring at my phone in the darkness while everyone was asleep. The quiet nights of West Texas creep me out when I’ve gone months in Chicago without a moment of silence. I don’t remember what I was initially looking for on Spotify when her solo, sophomore album Punisher came up on the “recommended” section. I hit play because it felt like Spotify was a friend trying to set me up with her for the millionth time, telling me to just trust them and to meet her. It felt like the perfect moment, spilling our guts under the covers, “What if I told you I feel like I know you, but we never met?”

By “Moon Song” and “Chinese Satellite” I was silently weeping, trying not to wake up my nephews in the next room. Punisher made me feel introspective and existential, and the record almost gave me the same floating, panic feeling that weed gives me (but it’s cool when she does it). The strings from “Graceland Too” and “Savior Complex” swam inside my bloodstream and lifted me off the futon, off the part of Texas that I suspect she writes about hating. I was 16 when I had my first weed-induced existential crisis. My friends drove me around town in an attempt calm me down and I kept asking them if I was dead; Punisher feels like the soundtrack to that car ride. Receiving an impressive 8.7/10 on Pitchfork, the publication’s Sam Sodomsky describes her songwriting on the album as “candid, multi-dimensional, slyly psychedelic, and full of heart.” There are moments as a writer where a line makes me mad because of how well it described something I have yet to put words to, and Bridgers made me furious when she sang on the final track “I Know the End”: “When I get back I’ll lay around Then I’ll get up and lay back down Romanticize a quiet life There’s no place like my room.” It’s so simple, but it perfectly described the way I can get so anxious that I spend most of my days in bed, convincing myself I’ll never not feel this way.

That’s at least how I’d describe my recent state of constant anxiety. I know it started before the election, but constantly checking news sites seemed to amplify everything. I think the thing I have been most anxious about (personally, not politically) is the fact that I’m moving back home to my hometown after I graduate next month. I finally became an adult, but I will be graduating with my Bachelor of Arts degree in Creative Writing, and I have no job prospects and no memoir in the making. I try to remain optimistic, but the catastrophic thinking my brain does is very convincing and tells me that if I can’t find a job in my field that I’m a bad writer, and if I’m a bad writer I’ll never be understood, and if I’ll never be understood I should just quit writing now, and if I quit writing then I should just lay in bed and not go to my zoom classes. It’s a long series of pointless, self-deprecating “and if’s”, but once they start it feels like telling yourself that you’re only going to smoke a couple cigarettes, and then you end up going through a whole pack in a few days and all you’re left with is regret and a headache. So, during that week of bed-ridden anxiety, I was thankful that my new love for Bridgers was stronger than my imposter syndrome. If I was doomed to be misunderstood, I wanted to listen to a writer who I feel like I understand.

When I went outside to listen the song, I quickly remembered that it was November in Chicago and my fingers shoved themselves deeper into my jacket sleeves. I managed to peak them out just enough to light a cigarette and hit play on the song. I was sure I looked very dramatic to the men doing construction on the apartment next door: a girl in her 20’s, smoking with her headphones in, staring off into the distance. The cover initially sounds more stripped and melancholic than the original, just Bridgers light vocals and an acoustic guitar. My legs were already shivering, but all the hairs on my body stood up higher when Rogers came in and their voices molded together. I don’t know her music, but the twang in Maggie’s voice that carries the second verse was comforting to my southern roots. I took a long drag when she sang “When everything feels like the movies, yeah you bleed just to know you're alive.” If I didn’t know better, I would have thought this cover was the original.

“Iris” is a song I’ve always known all the words to, but I had never really listened to the lyrics. The song was written by Goo Goo Doll’s John Rzeznik for the movie City of Angels (1998) staring Nicholas Cage. Rzeznik told Dan MacIntosh of Songfacts that when he wrote the song he was inspired by Cage’s situation in the film and thought “Wow! What an amazing thing it must be like to love someone so much that you give up everything to be with them.” Phoebe Bridgers’ songwriting feels like it comes from the same universe as “Iris”, specifically her song “ICU”. Both songs could technically be described as love songs, but I feel that a disservice to both.

They differ from traditional love songs because write about it in a realistic way, almost as if the thesis of both is “I know everything is awful and we could hate each other one day, but I want to be with you anyways.” A line from the chorus of “Iris” almost says this exactly, but far more eloquently, “When everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am,” and then verses repeat this sentiment of knowing the love could end, but wanting the love anyways. Bridgers’ songwriting in “ICU” comes at a relationship with the same approach. The verses describe things she thinks could complicate or end the relationship (the other person’s family, someone falling out of love, self-sabotage). Regardless, the refrain keeps repeating, “But I feel something when I see you”. All this to say that when Bridgers sings Rzeznik’s lyrics, they feel as if they are her own.

The Goo Goo Dolls must have also thought Phoebe would do the song justice as their twitter account replied to Bridger’s original tweet a few days after Biden was announced the projected winner, saying “We’re waiting…” with the gif of Judge Judy motioning “hurry up”. When I read or hear really good writing, I selfishly question if writing is even actually what I’m meant to be doing… if it was something that should have stayed a hobby, or a poorly constructed daydream of becoming Carrie Bradshaw.

Recently, I wrote a paragraph about one of my favorite albums with the intention of writing a whole essay about it. However, after that I got stuck. Every time I tried starting the next sentence, I hit the backspace button until it was gone. I spent two whole days watching interviews with the artist, reading reviews of the album, listening to the whole record on repeat for hours, and I couldn’t get anything more than that paragraph. The words simply would not come to me. Moments like that, combined with rejection emails from literary magazines or hearing Bridgers sing lines that take my breath away, I wonder if I should keep fueling my love for something that will always love someone else more or if I should quit?

I listened to the cover of “Iris” on repeat until my cigarette was out. The big tree in my backyard is barren because of the new season, and so now more of my neighborhood is visible. It was around 4p.m. and the sun was already starting to set thanks to daylight savings (until I wrote that sentence, I didn’t think to consider my anxiousness and my need to stay in bed all day could also be attributed to seasonal depression). I’ve always been obsessed with sunrises and sunsets. I know I probably write about them too much: how they make the whole world “glow” orange, the transitions of the colors in the sky, how they always represent an end or a beginning. My hometown has the best sunsets and sunrises: the land is so flat you can see all the way to the horizon, there are no clunky buildings blocking your view. I thought maybe this sunset would spark inspiration in me, so turned to go toward the edge of my porch to see more of it, and for a second I looked at the windowsill I rested my lighter and cigarettes on.

Lying there was a fly stuck on its back. Before they fixed the insolation, our apartment was infested with so many flies that all summer the surfaces of my home were perpetually covered in fly guts. The fly’s little body twitched frantically as it tried to push itself over. I felt pity for the fly even though others of its kind spent the warmer months buzzing in my ear and making me want to move. As I watched the insect, I realized that my anxiety doesn’t feel like drowning or spiraling or falling. It feels like flailing— like a bug stuck on its back trying desperately to get right side up again. It’s kind of pathetic how much it feels like the end of the world. I might not be the first person to think of that, but the metaphor came to me so clearly that it took my breath away. Quickly, I used my lighter to flick the fly back onto its legs. We stared at each other for a moment. I know flies don’t have facial expressions, but I swear, it looked confused. I thought maybe it heard horror stories about me from its friends about the sweaty girl who kills them with rolled up newspaper and wondered why I helped it. Finally, it turned from me and crawled away in the opposite direction.

That fly made me like a god, but more importantly, it made me feel like a writer. I found the words again. Relating to an insect isn’t exactly Carrie Bradshaw or Phoebe Bridgers, but I was excited. I immediately ran inside and started this essay. My frozen fingers started to warm up as I typed everything out. It felt like writing and I were a married couple who had sex for the first time in months; we got our spark back. And I know writers aren’t supposed to wait for inspiration to start writing, and I know this doesn’t make me as good as Phoebe Bridgers, and I know I still don’t have any job offers, and I know I didn’t cure my anxiety but writing this felt really good.

When I wrote this essay, someone I showed it to said they “got my angst”, but not my love for writing. Maybe that’s because I don’t always love writing in the explosive, epic way I sometimes think I should? I love writing with the kind of love that I’m told is in good marriages; the love is a choice. There are days when I can’t stand a word I put on the page, but there are also the days where I find perfect metaphors for sunsets or anxiety or bugs or Phoebe Bridgers. There are days I lay in the warmth of someone else’s words as if they were the sun. There are days where I can’t stand go to class after turning an essay in because I don’t want people to associate the person on the page with the person sitting across the room from of them. However, even on days when I can’t stand writing or being a writer, I still wake up, put on my fake glasses that make me feel like an intellectual, I grab my New Yorker tote, I write silly lyrics I think of on the train, I read someone else’s work and remind myself they had 20 drafts of this I’ll never see, I reread my own work and see if any lines make me catch my breath, and I write.

I write because I still have the desire to be understood. I write to try and understand why I can’t stop loving it even when I hate it. I write because I fear one day the inferiority will be too much and I won’t wake up and choose to still love writing.

I still listen to Iris on repeat because the lyrics are as painfully relatable as they are catchy. At its core, the song is asking someone to understand. I think that’s what all I want, understanding. I want to know that someone else feels the same way I do about sunsets, or Carrie Bradshaw, or Punisher, or smoking cigarettes to look cool. If I write my truth, maybe someone will understand? Alexander Chee wrote in his How to Write an Autobiographical Novel that “To write is to sell a ticket to escape, not from the truth, but into it.” Maybe that’s why I don’t love being high because I feel like I am trying to escape the truth? Maybe that’s why I love Phoebe Bridgers’ songwriting and writing in general because it makes me feel like I am trying to escape into the truth? Maybe if I can make it to the truth, I’ll be understood?

Maybe I’ll understand?

Sources: Bridgers, Phoebe. Lyrics to “Punisher.” Genius, 2020, genius.com/albums/Phoebe-bridgers/Punisher. Sodomsky, Sam. “Phoebe Bridgers: Punisher.” Pitchfork, Pitchfork, 22 June 2020, pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/phoebe-bridgers-punisher/. Rzeznik, John. “Goo Goo Dolls – Iris.” Genius, 7 Apr. 1998, genius.com/Goo-goo-dolls-iris-lyrics. MacIntosh, Dan. “John Rzeznik of Goo Goo Dolls.” ShieldSquare Captcha, 12 June 2013, www.songfacts.com/blog/interviews/john-rzeznik-of-goo-goo-dolls. Chee, Alexander. How to Write an Autobiographical Novel. Bloomsbury, 2019.

#personal essay #writing #phoebe bridgers #iris #writer #goo goo dolls #nonfiction #music #music writing

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suttcnfm · 3 years

Text

hi it’s me your least favorite ( and most favorite ) person hailey back at it again making a bio that’s way too long . this is sutton , she’s my whimiscal fairy child who’s endured a lot please be gentle with her !! or ruin her life !! whatever you want !!

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒊. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

( elizabeth lail, cisfemale, she/her, pisces, 25 ) i spotted sutton harvey at the beach today. don’t you know them? they live down by the boardwalk and usually hang out with the artists & boho clique. from what i’ve heard, they can be finicky, but they’re also effervescent. i always think of them when i hear fuck it i love you - lana del rey and tend to associate them with mom jeans stained with acrylic paint, the taste of strawberry lemonade, & white cotton sundresses

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒊𝒊. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬

𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞

sutton elise harvey

𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞(𝐬)

her mom used to call her ellie

𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲

february 22nd

𝐚𝐠𝐞

twenty - five ( 25 )

𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

five foot eight inches ( 5′ 8″ )

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫

female

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬

she / her

𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧(𝐬)

painter and art contributor for sunhollow museum

𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞(𝐬)

english & french

𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

bisexual & biromantic

𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦

elizabeth lail

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒊𝒊𝒊. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲

𝐳𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐜

pisces sun, gemini rising, & aries moon

𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

chaotic neutral

𝐦𝐛𝐭𝐢

enfp-a

𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞

type 4w3 ( the individualist )

𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

sanguine-melancholic

𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

hufflepuff

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬

how she loves others - acts of service, gift giving, & quality time

how she needs to be loved - quality time & physical touch

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨

cassie ainsworth ( skins ) , luna lovegood ( harry potter ) , bubbles ( powerpuff girls ) , claire colburn ( elizabethtown ) , bmo ( adventure time )

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒊𝒗. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲

triggers ( these are all the triggers as they appear throughout , they will be tagged accordingly ) : death mention , cancer and death tw , drug mention , sexual assault tw , addiction tw , drugs tw , and drug mention

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞.

the first time warm brown eyes peered into her mothers a connection was formed , the eldest daughter to what would soon be an expansive harvey household . this very moment would be the catalyst of a bond that formed sutton into who she is , though i am getting ahead of myself .

sutton harvey grew up in julian california a town that carried the suffocating small town feel of suburbia despite being mere minutes outside of the hustle and bustle of los angeles . though it should be mentioned that she preferred the quiet stillness of a town where she could known by someone for something .

her parents were an interesting pair . her mother a free spirited enigmatic young woman who believed in healing through love and nature , and her father a struggling mean - spirited business tycoon always looking for the next thing he could exploit . but despite their clashing personalities and seemingly opposite morals , they were in love , had been since high school , and they balanced each other out almost perfectly .

but as it turns out almost perfect wasn’t good enough for her father , who split when she was eight , leaving behind sutton’s heart broken mother , and five kids to raise alone .

the family was hardly making a enough to survive before the sudden departure of her father , and so this left an eight - year - old sutton to step up to the plate and help her mother , raising her siblings while her mom tried to find steady work .

as the years went on and her siblings had more and more needs things only got more difficult . trying to provide for five children on one paycheck isn’t exactly the easiest thing that one can do after all .

sutton prayed that she’d be graced with the same mean streak that her father had , but alas she was gentle at heart , similar to her mother an enigmatic personality that was hard to pin down .

while it worked in her benefit with most people , it is difficult to raise children without practical dreams , something sutton had never been a fan of , there were times when this became a point of contention between her and younger sister reece , but for the most part her siblings recognized how difficult a thing their sister was doing .

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐞.

DEATH MENTION her teenage years came much faster than she anticipated , and while life had been mostly smooth sailing in her eyes , there were things that sutton simply wasn’t prepared for . the loss of her mother was one of them .

CANCER & DEATH TW unbeknownst to any of her children , behind the scenes sutton’s mother had been suffering from breast cancer , and she’d opted out of getting treatment , something they couldn’t afford with the minimal money she was bringing in , and instead she suffered in silence so they would have a chance at survival .

everyone , including sutton herself , expected her to break . the bond that the two had built was immeasurable and sutton had never shown the ablitiy to be grounded before . her and her mother were both two enigmas perfectly coexisting , and suddenly it was up to sutton to figure out what to do .

DRUGS & ALCOHOL TW enter sutton’s aunt , claire , who begrudgingly left her life in las vegas to come and watch over her nieces and nephews at the price that she would blow most of the money the received on drugs and alcohol .

DRUG MENTION there wasn’t a day sutton could remember that she didn’t come home to her aunt passed out with vodka bottles littering the floor or strung out on coke with a man sutton had never seen before on their couch .

sutton’s resilience was the only thing that kept her going , she shielded her siblings from as much as she could , knowing that this was the last thing they needed to be their reality , and for the most part , it worked .

SEXUAL ASSAULT TW then came another decimating blow , on a day like any other sutton’s aunt for once sober enough to drive , pulled sutton out of school early and took her home . and what seemed like an out of character behavior for aunt to exhibit , became crystal clear when sutton saw the man waiting for her on the couch .

SEXUAUL ASSAULT TW this became another habit of her aunt’s , pulling sutton out of school in order to use her body to score drugs . then bringing her back and forcing her to act normal , as if things were still totally fine .

sutton put on a brave face for her siblings , but was slowly cracking under the pressure of everything that seemed to be perfectly chipping away at the person she once was .

this is until she met a boy , a musician with a similar story to hers , who she completely connected with in a way that was rivaled only by her mother . him and her seemed to have the same bleeding wounds that could only be healed by each other .

cue nights at the beach , swapping stories , and endless road trips confined to their little bubble of bliss . he fueled the artist within her . painting upon painting of the way he made her feel , how his music moved her , for once the world didn’t seem so cruel .

but of course , the world was determined to prove sutton harvey wrong . with a sudden disappearance of both her first love and her aunt , the latter of which ran back to vegas with her new beau , she’d felt abandoned just as before . and here is where sutton harvey finally cracked .

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐡.

she and her siblings moved in with her father , who living a more lavish and childless lifestyle with his new fiancée in san diego . the harvey siblings were yet again tasked with raising themselves .

ADDICTION TW with her siblings growing older , and sutton having mounds of unprocessed trauma , and she began to mix with the wrong crowd . finding the numbing of substances felt better than the hollow numbness of being abandoned by every person she’d ever loved .

art and school alike became distant priorities as she spent her last nights as a senior doing ecstasy on the beach and hooking up with randoms just to feel alive again .

DRUGS TW after just barely graduating , sutton spent her new found freedom getting high , having sex , and wasting her life away . struggling to find any sense of self in everything she’d done , her entire life seemed to have been lived for other people .

this only made her further spiral , trying to convince herself that even though this was having a negative toll on her , at least for once she was living for herself .

DRUG MENTION this was until while she was coming down from an immense high she stumbled upon a record store where through the window she caught a small glimpse of her past , of the person she used to be , the face of the boy who’d up and left all those years ago .

her entire world seemed to collide with her heart at that very moment . for a fleeting moment she felt like the girl she was in high school , full of life , love , and most importantly art .

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

after this near encounter with her past self , she worked heavily on getting sober . and has now been clean for five years !!

after her first year of getting sober she worked multiple jobs to buy a small studio apartment where she could begin painting again , and even made strides to reconnect with her father and her siblings whom she’d since distanced herself from .

soon enough she became an art contributor for the local museum and earns her income between hosting small art galleries on the pier and the aforementioned art contributions .

after three years of sobriety , more widely recognized art , and a proper relationship with her father , he gifted her a beach house where she spends a majority of her time .

what started as one cat to keep her company turned into nine because if there’s one thing that sutton lacks it’s control .

she has fully embraced the person she was and the person she aims to be . her personality is a direct influence on who her mother was because if there’s anyone that sutton looks up into in life , it’s her . the best way i could describe her personality is the embodiment of the quote , “ i could never be the main character . i exist solely in the fevered imaginations of sensitive writer-directors to teach broodingly soulful young men to embrace life and its infinite mysteries . ”

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒗. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬

𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫

lavender

𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

light fog because she likes the scenery it creates

𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐚𝐲

dawn, there’s something pure to her about the stillness of the earth at that time of day and !! it’s when she gets a lot of her painting done !!

𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥(𝐬)

butterflies and elephants

𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐣𝐢𝐬

🍒🥺✨😡🌈🦋🤡🥰

𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲

𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

penelope harvey ; deceased

𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

maxwell harvey ; alive

𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬)

reece harvey ; sister

elizabeth harvey ; sister

wyatt harvey ; brother

casey harvey ; brother

𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞

𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

high school diploma

𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐬

in order of breed : poppy ( scottish fold ) , milo ( scottish fold ) , taz ( scottish fold ) , jasper ( british shorthair ) , archie ( british shorthair ) , sadie ( british shorthair ) , ginger ( maine coon ) , hunter ( maine coon ) , and felix ( maine coon )

𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬

painting , sketching , learning languages , reading , photography , writing , sewing , thrifting , playing instruments ( mostly the guitar ) , and baking

𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

a beach house gifted from her father but splits her time between a studio apartment cramped with art and a beach house filled with cats

𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬

has a tendency to not sleep enough , has occasional nightmares , and is prone to frequent tossing and turning . but when she does fall asleep , it’s almost a guarantee you won’t be able to wake her up . she’s an extremely heavy sleeper .

𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬

honestly it’s a toss - up she either eats junk food for a straight week and has never seen a vegetable in her life , or she is on a health binge and all you’re going to find in her house is snap peas and baby carrots .

𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬

sunrises , house plants , soft hands , fuzzy socks , the color yellow , vanilla scented candles , soft lips , rosy cheeks , strawberries , freshly manicured nails , over sweetened coffee , kiss marks on napkins , dewy skin , french words , paint stained clothing , midnight conversations , a sweet tooth , gold jewelry , warm hugs , gentle voice , and dancing in the rain .

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒗𝒊. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

uhhhh so i have wasted all my brain power on this so some suggestions are exes , fwbs , unrequited crushes , skinny love , slow burn , a girl squad , ride or dies , work friends or maybe someone who admires her work , best friends , fake relationship , enemies , ex - friends , enemies turned friends , friends turned enemies , good influence , bad influence , old party friends , one night stand(s) , , neighbors , secret friends , and those are all the suggestions i can come up with at the moment ! feel free to message me with plot ideas i promise i will scream and cry over .

#hqclique.intro #death mention #death tw #cancer tw #assault tw #addiction tw #drugs tw #( this is bad but please love me because it took FOREVER . )

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kinnaman-smorgasbord · 4 years

Text

Esquire Singapore Dec 2019 - Joel Kinnaman Interview

OBSERVERVABLE ACTS

Editor-in-Chief: Norman Tan Photography: Michael Schwartz Stylist: Chloe Hartstein Groomer: Kristan Serafino Story: Wayne Cheong

Instead of a rooftop shoot that we had planned, we’re indoors at Dune Studios on Water Street. Outside, the weather is every writer’s dream: “It is an ash-streaked sky that portents a downpour.” “Like a warning, steel wool hangs overhead.” “A dishevelled blanket of grey that drifts languidly like detritus in a muddied pond.” A wet weather doth not a good shoot make.

When Joel Kinnaman arrives, the first thing you notice is how large he is. Bigger than life, broad-chested, he sometimes stands astride, like he’s about to break the spirit of a wild stallion. Then, there’s that presence; a sort of aura that’s quiet but still strong-arms you for your attention.

Just as the fashion shoot is about to start, Kinnaman asks if he could put on his own playlist for the shoot. He brings up his Spotify playlist, titled ‘For some of mankind’. ‘What Becomes of the Brokenhearted’ by Jimmy Ruffin plays.

“The playlists are just for fun,” Kinnaman tells me. “I’ve made a playlist for every project that I’ve been in.”

The project that this particular playlist was made for is For All Mankind, now playing on Apple TV+. It’s a show that puts forth the idea: what if America lost the space race to Russia?

Created and written by Ronald D Moore, the visionary behind the reimagined Battlestar Galactica and Outlander, For All Mankind stars Kinnaman as Edward Baldwin, a NASA astronaut who works alongside Buzz Aldrin (Chris Agos) and Neil Armstrong (Jeff Branson). Kinnaman’s character isn’t based on a particular historical figure, instead he is a composite or a representative of the ‘all-American’ astronauts of that era.

“I’m half-American and half-Swedish,” Kinnaman says. “I’ve lived in Sweden and America so, in a way, I’ve a split identity. My favourite part of the American spirit is not giving up. If they get knocked down, it is a national honour in getting back up and continuing the fight. In reality, when the US got to the moon, it concluded the space race. We didn’t get the continuation in space exploration that everyone was promised.”

Kinnaman is drawn to the science-fiction genre, fantasising of what could have been (though it can be said that the broad field of fiction can also put forward, ‘ what if’). Growing up, he watched the Star Wars movies, he loved the cyberpunk feel when he shot Altered Carbon. He is a fan of Blade Runner due to its dystopian future.

Do you think that sci-fi’s dystopian trope is becoming a reality? Kinnaman muses on that. “We’ve a president who is a national and international embarrassment. He’s immoral, a compulsive liar, a narcissist who doesn’t respect or appreciate democracy. I pray and hope that this nightmare would soon come to an end.

“But I believe we have the potential to overcome this. If we change paths and realign our focus in coming together as a human family, we can solve whatever problems that come our way together.”

This sentiment is echoed in For All Mankind, although the loss wasn’t the be-all and end-all for America. According to Moore, in losing the space race, America ends up the winner in the long run because of the continual effort into space exploration.

“Art can be a little lazy in pointing out the negatives. In many instances, the role that art and the artist play is showing us what’s wrong: that’s important but showcasing the positives is equally important. For All Mankind shows us how we should be operating if we are guided by our better angels.”

Physicist and theoretical biologist, Erwin Schrödinger, came up with a thought experiment. Imagine, if you will, a cat that’s sealed in a box. And inside that box is a device that might or might not kill the cat. Quantum theory states that quantum particles can exist in a superposition of states at the same time. Some even theorise that the quantum particles will collapse to a single state when it’s observed. When applied to Schrödinger’s cat, the feline is both dead and alive until you open the box.

Schrödinger came up with this thought experiment to explain that “misinterpreted simplification of quantum theory can lead to absurd results which don’t match real world quantum physics”. In the real world, it’s absurd that the cat is both dead and alive at the same time.

But one can also see this as an example of how the scientific theory works. Nobody really knows if a theory is right or wrong until it can be tested and proved. It’s like asking someone out on a date, you don’t know if that cute girl or guy will go out with you until you ask; the possibilities of rejection and acceptance remain in co-existence.

That is before you open the box.

Observe: Joel Kinnaman wouldn’t have existed if his father, Steve, had not defected from the US Army. An Indianapolis native, the elder Kinnaman was drafted and stationed in Bangkok, Thailand during the Vietnam War. While he was there, he started spending time with European backpackers, who have a different perspective of the war. A seed was planted. It finally blossomed when he attended a friend’s wedding in Laos. “It turned out that the woman’s family was half Laotian and half Vietnamese,” Kinnaman says. “It was an emotional moment for my dad. He asked himself if these were the people that he was going to kill.”

Still reeling from the love he had witnessed, the elder Kinnaman returned to his base. It was then that he was given the news that he was being reassigned to the battlefront in Vietnam.

In the history of war, the common punishment for desertion is death. According to the US Uniform Code of Military Justice, Article 85, it is meted out “by death of other such punishment as a court-martial may direct”. (Since the Civil War, only one American serviceman was executed for desertion: Private Eddie Slovik in 1945.)

Knowing the penalties for desertion, the elder Kinnaman made the decision that night to leave camp. He hitchhiked his way up into northern Thailand and into Laos. He burned his passport, changed his name and passed off as Canadian. For the next four years, he lived life among the Laotians doing odd jobs. Then, he found out that Sweden grants asylum to Vietnam deserters. Since moving to Sweden, President Jimmy Carter eventually issued an amnesty in 1977. The elder Kinnaman continues to reside in Sweden. After his first marriage ended, he was involved with Bitte, a therapist. This relationship yielded Joel.

“I’ve been working on the script about his life,” Kinnaman says. “The idea would be that I’d play my dad but I’m getting a little old.” It’s a story to be told, one about the dangers of blind patriotism; a tool that’s often exploited by governments. “We need to be critical individuals who should make up our own minds.”

Observe: Kinnaman had his first taste of acting when he was 10. He played Felix Lundström on Storstad, a soap opera that looks at the lives of the residents living in the fictional town of Malmtorget. Back then, Sweden had only two TV channels so even if it’s a secondary or even tertiary role on an ensemble piece, people will recognise you. “I didn’t understand it,” Kinnaman says. “There was something thrilling about being famous but there was something I didn’t like about it either.” His whole experience as a child actor was underwhelming.

In fact, taking a page from ‘history repeating itself ’, observe as Kinnaman could have been a soldier in the Swedish army.

“It was mandatory for the men to be conscripted for a year in the army and it was during my time when the rules for enlistment started to relax,” Kinnaman says. “If you didn’t want to enlist, all you have to do is purposely fail the proficiency tests.”

Alas, Kinnaman was so caught up in the competition that he aced it. His results showed potential to be a company leader. He was enlisted and assigned to an 18-month tour in the Arctic Circle but Kinnaman plum forgot about it. When he moved to Oslo, Norway, to be a bartender, he received a call from his mother, informing him that there was a government notice stating that he was supposed to enlist in three days.

He called the army to tell them that he was no longer in the country. “They said, this is a serious offence and I could get prison time for this. But if I were to write a letter to explain the situation, I could get out of this.” And then he forgot to write the letter. Kinnaman continued working odd jobs but he was always haunted by the thought that if he were ever to be arrested by the police for anything, they might discover his draft dodge from his records and he would be sent to prison.

“I ended up at this fight outside a night club and got taken in by the police.” Kinnaman says. Observe: Kinnaman could have ended up serving his sentence for draft dodging but nothing came of it.

Acting was calling out to him once more. His friend, Gustaf Skarsgård (famously known for his role as Floki in History Channel’s Vikings), was on track to becoming an actor and advised Kinnaman to apply for theatre school. After several applications, Kinnaman finally got into what he describes as “Sweden’s second-best acting school” and would go on to film two movies during his enrolment.

After graduation, he continued acting in Sweden before moving to America. He kept himself busy. He made an appearance in The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo; starred as Governor Will Conway in House of Cards; made people notice with his portrayal as the homicide detective, Stephen Holder; scored the lead role in the Robocop remake; was cast as Rick Flag in Suicide Squad.

The one genre that Kinnaman can’t seem to appear in is comedy. Yes, he has a stern demeanour but the man is also funny. “Sometimes, Hollywood sees you in a certain way and it’s much easier to get cast for it. And the next is similar to that and so on. I haven’t made an effort to dissuade people’s opinion. The lighter side is probably more me.”

The closest he has gotten to doing comedy is the shooting of the Suicide Squad sequel. Helmed by James Gunn, Kinnaman said in another interview that it feels like he’s “shooting his first comedy”.

“I’ve been around tough people with issues before,” Kinnaman continues. “I’ve had some bad times so those kind of environments were natural to be in. It’s a survival mechanism too. A way for me to cope as I grew up. At the time, you’re figuring out about your identity. I felt insecure, powerless and didn’t know what to do in life.

“It was a period of my life that was pretty negative. But one of the beauties of acting is that those dark periods become a mother lode that you can mine from. Maybe I’ve drawn a little bit too much from it by playing too many tough guys.”

In May 2016, Kinnaman was one of the delegates and personalities from Denmark, Norway, Iceland, Finland and Sweden who was invited to one of President Obama’s final state dinners. Kinnaman, dressed in a sharp tuxedo, attended the dinner with his then-wife, Cleo Wattenström.

He overheard that the Obamas were fans of House of Cards and was looking forward to being introduced to them. At the reception, he and the other representatives stood in a row as President Obama made his way down the line, shaking hands and posing for a photo op. By Kinnaman’s admission, his mind wandered as he imagined what he’d say when President Obama came up to him. “Maybe I’d say, ‘Mr President’, and then he’ll say ‘Governor Conway’, and then we’ll laugh. And we’ll end it with a cool handshake.”

And all of a sudden, the president stood before him and Kinnaman muttered, “Mr President…” There was an awkward pause. Kinnaman would recount that it’s very possible that either the Obamas hadn’t watched the episode that he was in or if they did, his presence made zero impact. Before the silence could prolong, Kinnaman ended with, “thanks… for everything”. President Obama said something along the lines of, “Surely but surely, we cannot lose hope” and Kinnaman was ushered off.

He would retell this story when he introduced President Obama at Brilliant Minds, a conference of creative individuals who embody the forward-thinking spirit of Sweden, in June 2019. After the introduction, he returned backstage, where President Obama was waiting for his cue to go up. “He had this huge smile on his face and he said to me, ‘bring it in for a cool handshake.’ We hugged, we talked for about five minutes. He was super friendly. I’ll always remember that moment.”

Kinnaman isn’t shy about his politics. He voiced support for the #metoo movement; he had championed the environmental cause by one of his fellow Swedes, Greta Thunberg; he does not hide his disdain for the Trump administration.

“I think the last UN report stated that we have about eight years to turn back our carbon expenditure into the atmosphere,” Kinnaman says about where we’re heading as a species. “You don’t have to be a prophet to see that the world is heading towards the wrong direction. The oceans are heating up, the glaciers are melting. These natural disasters will be more frequent and that’s gonna lead to more tensions among countries.

“Politically, we’re moving towards a more nativist direction; people are pulling away from international cooperation. There’s the rise in disinformation campaigns, which will threaten democracy.”

But Kinnaman, ever the optimist, still believes in the human spirit, that we can innovate our way out of this quagmire.

Observe: Kinnaman, who was born with pectus excavatum, chose to correct the disorder instead of living with it.

Pectus excavatum is a chest-wall deformity that affects roughly one in 400. Instead of the breastbone being flush against the chest, it sinks in. Measured on a scale called the Haller index, anything above an index of 3.2 is considered severe. Kinnaman’s index was a seven or an eight.

“It’s something that’s survivable,” Kinnaman explains. “But it’s a condition that grows worse over time: your posture becomes worse; your stamina worsens as your heart is not given room to pump. By correcting it you can add years to your life.”

For a condition this severe, doctors had to insert two curved metal bars across his chest. Then the bars are turned to force the chest out and then the bars are wired to his ribs. The operation changed his life for the better. He doesn’t feel self-conscious whenever he removes his top. Six weeks after his surgery, he had to do reshoots for Suicide Squad. It was a fight sequence but Kinnaman sucked it up. “Would you like to feel it?” He asked.

He raised his arm like an invitation. I reached out and felt the spot, where the metal bars are, beneath the fabric and skin.

That’s an interesting party trick, I say. Kinnaman could only chuckle in response.

“It’s funny, if you ask me to say a line from a movie that I’ve been in before, I can’t. Not one line from any movie that I’ve done but I once did a monologue that was one hour and 30 minutes and I knew it by heart after 10 days.”

Kinnaman used to opine that as a Swedish American, growing up with dual cultures gives him a better perspective of the world but that also left him feeling like he doesn’t belong. He jumps from place to place, leading a nomadic existence.

“But I think,” he says as though he had stumbled upon some great truth a long time back, “I don’t wanna travel so much any more. Home. That’s where I’d like to be. I have two bases: one in Venice, LA and the other, an hour outside Stockholm.

“Growing up, my family didn’t have any money. We lived in this tiny little cottage that was in the middle of the woods. Now, I have this piece of land, where my family lives. This past midsummer was the first midsummer that we all spent together.

“That’s my new happy place.”

Joel Kinnaman looks like a man who has placed the final piece in that mystery of his life. He has stopped worrying about how he’s perceived by the public. He has exorcised people who have “struggled with jealousy, who don’t have a natural inclination towards generosity”. He has zero tolerance against bullshit. He likes how his career is shaping up—aside from Suicide Squad 2, For All Mankind is now filming a second season, and Kinnaman has three films coming out: The Informer; The Sound of Philadelphia and The Secrets We Keep; the last two, he avers, are his best work. “People who have watched me for a long time, it will remind them of my early career and for people who recently followed me, they will see a new side of me.

“I have goals that I’d like to achieve. Actor awards are such bullshit… until you get one. But yeah, that would be great. In future, I’d definitely want to be in a producing role and at some point, I’d like to also direct.

“I’ve said that I’d direct in five years time for about 10 years now.” That might change. His life is still a long and open road ahead.

Schrodinger’s cat posits two states that the creature can be in—dead or alive. But what if there’s a third option. That within the confines of the box, the cat is not there. It’s escaped. Unburdened from the stipulations of a thought experiment, free to do what it wants.

#photoshoot #magazine #joel kinnaman #esquire singapore #interview #we feed on scraps of new info #ive linked his Spotify playlist for people who missed it in march

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bh7theseriesblog · 4 years

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Fire and Ice Roses: BH6 Oneshot

www.fanfiction.net

*Across the Pacific ocean the sun begins to rise in the east, the ocean sparkles with light as the mist parted ways to reveal San Fransokyo. The lights eventually hits on a small house, where a family of three live. The light shines through a port window which roused a person on a futon mattress beside it, the person shifted before it revealed itself to be a 13 year old girl with dyed blue hair. She is shorter than most girls her age, and her figure still resembles that of a child and yet it is starting to curve a little bit. She stood up in her futon mattress as she looks at the sun outside. She stands up and makes her futon mattress decent, and then she looked at her surroundings; her room is decorated with posters ranging from robotics, the ocean, old anime posters like Sailor Moon and Revolutionary Girl Utena and various homemade mural pictures made out of seashells and had many homemade wind chimes/chandeliers also made out of seashells hanging from her ceiling. She straightens her baby blue nightgown before she walks out her room and into the bathroom, she looks at herself in the mirror as she brushes her teeth and looks at herself. She sighs in disappointment that her bust remained small, but she quickly shakes hear head from focusing on her lack of mature body and starts her day. With the dawn still young she dresses herself to her outfit, a yellow tank top with a sea green plated skirt, she brushes her hair and places her purple eye contacts in. She heads downstairs once more to prepare for breakfast, setting water to boil to put the rice in. A drop of hot water slightly burns her hand as she reacts with a soft ow; when she stirs the rice she hears footstep coming in the kitchen.*

Kaguya: Good morning Cora.

*The girl named Cora turns her head to give a small smile to the old woman wearing the traditional kimono with her signature cane.*

Cora: Good Morning Grandmama.

*After she was done cooking she places their breakfast on the table and walks out to wake the third person in her family. She gently opens the door to see her Father, who is slowly waking up from his deep slumber. Cora looks at the table in his room and found it filled with bills and job resumes. She sighs as she sits beside her father as his massive figure lifts up and his vision clears to see his daughter.

Cora: Morning Papa.

*Mizuchi slowly walks to the table where his daughter and mother-in-law are waiting for him. He sits down and eats his breakfast, his eyes weary and lost. Cora sighs as she begins to eat her breakfast as well. After breakfast the father and daughter are sitting in the living room where it had a TV with a VCR, a blue ray player, VHS tapes and DVDs of old and new anime and movies. Cora looks around before she brings out the small robot she made; the robot was small, sleek and pale as a pearl and resembled more of an egg. When she brings out her controller she activates the robot. The robot activates its eyes to a electric green eyes and floats around to Mizuchi where it begins to dance. Though it does not have legs the robot moved with grace and purity. Mizuchi looked at the robot and his daughter and gave a small smile...just for a little while. Cora's smile drops as she stops playing with the robot she made and puts it in her dress pocket.*

Kaguya: Cora, it's time to go grocery shopping.

*Cora nodded as she stands up and tiptoes to kiss her father on the cheek as she prepares to join her grandmother. She puts on her outdoor shoes, which are her favorite rain boots, and steps out.*

Cora: We're heading out Papa...We'll be home soon...

Mizuchi: Be safe.

*After the grandmother and girl get on the trolley the city begins to come alive. The stores are opening as people soon fill the streets to go wherever they need to go. Cora looks at her grandmother,who at the moment is checking over the money in her purse as she looks to the streets across them. She sees a group of young friends walking and talking happily as a young couple hold hands and kiss. Cora sighs sadly at the sight as she looks down at her feet, and her grandmother notices this but said nothing. Once at the stop they got off the trolley and walk to the grocery store, and once inside Cora grabbed a basket and begin to search for their groceries. Kaguya spots a familiar face nearby and places a hand on her shoulder.*

Kaguya: Cora, there's a music store nearby that you can visit right now. They are even having a sale right now, here.

*She places a few dollar bills in Cora's hand but Cora begins to shake her head.*

Cora: N-no Grandmama, groceries are important I-I don't need to-

Kaguya: I insist. You are still young, enjoy your life.

*Cora sighs in defeat as she hands the basket to her grandmother and walks out the store. Once she was gone the old woman turned around and saw the person she recognized.*

Kaguya: How are you doing today Felony Carl?

Felony Carl: Oh, hey Kaguya. I'm doin' fine, just getting some Tofu and apples as my doctor recommended. Was that your granddaughter I saw with you a while ago?

Kaguya: Indeed.

*Both Felony Carl and Kaguya walk over to the apple stand where they begin to look for good apples.*

Felony Carl: She's a lot quieter than what you told me.

Kaguya: I know. Cora has been shy and quiet yes, but she has this burst of life inside her. Like how she would splash around in the waves and search for seashells. In a way she's an oyster.

Felony Carl: Grey on the outside but a hidden gem within?

Kaguya: Exactly, just like her mother...but ever since my Son-in-law was fired he has been struggling to find a job and paying for the bills. Cora is worried sick about him, and it doesn't help that his weariness is obvious in his eyes.

Felony Carl: I understand that, when people look at me they get scared and want nothing to do with me.

Kaguya: Mhmm, Cora has been home schooled her entire life as I recall telling you.

Felony Carl: Yeah, cause she hacked into her dad's computer at age four?

Kaguya: And Mizuchi protectiveness kept her from going to real school in fear she will be ostracized. But I've seen how Cora looks at the children her age...she wants friends...and possibly someone who loves her.

Felony Carl: You mean as in a romantic sense?

Kaguya: Yes. But with Mizuchi's financial struggles, Cora will be forced to push away her desires. She's been the main chef and caretaker of the house for a long while now and has even been thinking of selling her seashell collection and homemade art. And she may think of never going to College.

Felony Carl: That's tough.

Kaguya: It's times like these I wonder what Akemi would do... I know Cora needs to make the first step to talk to people...and yet I hope that someone will see Cora for who she really is and cherish her... someone who can understand her and connect to her...

*Meanwhile around the same time, the cafe is buzzing with customers as Cass Hamada is busy taking orders. Upstairs at the moment, two brothers are up and ready to start the day. The older brother is putting on his baseball head while the younger is making some adjustments on a small, black and somewhat derpy-looking robot.*

Tadashi: OK Hiro, I'm off to meet up with some friends, and remember to call me if you need anything or if you're heading out.

Hiro: Kay, I will.

*The boy named Hiro is a 13 year old genius prodigy and his brother is Tadashi, a intelligent young man with a good heart. Tadashi calls out as he heads downstairs.*

Tadashi: And don't give Aunt Cass any trouble OK?

Hiro: I hear ya.

*Once Tadashi heads downstairs Hiro fixes up the bot with a satisfied smile.*

Hiro: OK, now that you're fixed up Megabot, I just gotta head to the mechanics store and upgrade your controller. After all, another bot fight is coming up tonight.

*He goes to his drawer where he pulls up a panel where he placed the cash he won over from the bot fights before. He had to admit, he was impressed of himself that he can make this large sum of money from bot-fighting. He supposed he could almost thank the bullies from high school for driving him towards Bot-fighting, where he can use his big brain for the thrill of beating everybody to a pulp. He shook his head to avoid the memories of high school and the harassment he endured there, after all he had just graduated last week and now has the summer to himself.*

Hiro: Alright, that should be enough.

*With that he heads downstairs and through the cafe where he sneaks in a cookie.*

Hiro: I'm heading off to the mechanics store Aunt Cass, I'll be back soon!

Cass: Be safe!

*With that, Hiro heads off down the street to get the parts for his upcoming bot-battle that night. Meanwhile at the other side of the town Cora wearily looks around the music store, spotting whole shelves ranging from vinyl record players to digital songs displayed on Holograms. She holds tightly to her purse as she looks at the songs available in the anime and movie soundtrack.*

?: Hey kid.

*Cora looks up and turns her head to see a woman in expensive make-up and rather revealing clothing. Cora diverts her eyes the other way as she addresses the scantily clad female.*

Cora: A-are you talking t-to me?

Scanty: Well I don't see any other blue-haired girls around here. So yeah, I'm talking to you

Cora: *Looking down in embarrassment* Um... I-is there a-anything you want?

Scanty: Not really...but you certainly do have something on your mind.

Cora: W-what do you uh...mean?

Scanty: You've been pressing the scroll button for too long that its speeding up and you haven't even noticed.

*Cora sees the scroll bar in the hologram as it became non-visible as blurry icons of songs zoom past her. She lets go of the button as she looks down again at her feet blushing.*

Scanty: I guess you do have something going on in your mind then?

Cora: Yeah... there's... a little trouble at home...Money trouble...

*The scantily dressed lady sighs before she grabs the young girl to a more secluded part of the store.*

Scanty: How old are you kid?

Cora: What?

Scanty: I'm asking how old are you?

Cora:...13 ma'm.

*The lady nods her head before she whispers to Cora.*

Scanty: If you're looking for quick cash, I might be able to help.

*Cora's eyes light up at the prospect that she could earn money to help her father.*

Cora: Really? What is it? I'll do anything!

Scanty: There's two people I know that are looking for a double date, and since my old business partner bailed out on me...you might be a possible candidate to date the other guy. And they are paying good money for the date.

*Cora's eyes slowly widened in shock as she realizes what the lady is offering her. The lady notices the look in the young girl's eyes.*

Scanty: Look kid, I know this is a big girl's game but if you want to help out your folks you gotta be out there. Sides, you're pretty enough for guys to see you, even if you are a little...flat.

*Cora consciously covers her chest as she looks down at her feet.*

Scanty: The date is nearby by Good Luck Alley where a bot fight is hosting.

Cora: A bot fight? I thought the Bot fight tournament was at the capital.

Scanty: That's not the bot fight I'm talking about. This one is where people bet on the fighters, and if you're lucky enough to win you might just get some good cash.

*Seeing this as a chance to make money, she quickly pulls out her robot that was in rest mode.*

Cora: I have a robot! It's in rest mode but it should-

*That is when the lady snickers at the girl, she clears her throat after a little bit and faces Cora.*

Scanty: That's a sweet thought kid, but there is no way you can beat those big boys at a bot fight, especially since your robot is basically an egg. You can be set for life by going on these dates with the guys offering good money. Sides it's not illegal, you're 13. You're of age of consent. Since it's you're first time, I'll just call them and tell them that we'll just going out for dinner and nothing more.

*The lady picks up her stuff and starts to walk out, and Cora follows her to the exit.*

Scanty: It's your choice baby girl, either your face money trouble or you can go out with these men and have them beg you to date them. Who knows, if you're good enough you'll be a favorite.

*The Lady walks away down the street leaving Cora looking at her robot in hand. She then looks at the direction the lady walked down and sighs. She then decided to head back to the grocery store, keeping the event the lady told her in her head.*

*Hiro arrives at the store as he immediately searches for the part for his controller. The cashier greeted Hiro, since he remembers the times both Tadashi and Hiro have come over to the store to buy the tools and gears they needed. Hiro only gave a dismissive hello before he inspected some of the gears on the shelf. Just then another person comes into the store, a big jock with a Letterman jacket coming in and spotting the young teenager.*

Jocky Jerk: Well well lookie what we have here, if it isn't Zero the brainiac twerp.

*Hiro sighs but refuses to acknowledge the older adolescent as he continues to rummage through the wires.*

Jocky Jerk: Hey! I'm talking to you freak.

Hiro scrunches up his nose in disgust as he speaks without turning his head to acknowledge him.*

Hiro: Hello Kurt.

*Kurt smirks as he heads over and ruffles Hiro's hair which made the young boy groan.*

Kurt: Haven't seen you since graduation, what sort of things you doing now you little twerp?

Hiro: I know I'm not repeating a year of high school and taking summer school while being kicked out of the football team.

*Kurt's smirk is wiped clean as it turns a murderous glare, he looks around and then has a devilish grin.*

Kurt: Looks like your annoying nerdy brother isn't here, so I'm sure you don't mind if we head out and talk-

Cashier: Sir, if you're not buying anything, I suggest you leave right now.

*Kurt scoffs as he shoves Hiro before he exits the door. Hiro gives a scoff in return as he grabs what he needs and pays for it; the cashier then directs Hiro to the back exit so he won't be attacked by Kurt and possibly his goons like Ram.*

Cashier: Seriously kid, I don't know how you handle those jerks. I probably wet myself if I made that comment to that big donkey like you did.

Hiro: Eh, guys like Kurt are idiots. He's butt-hurt cause I refused to take his SAT exam for him, sides I'm used to it.

Cashier: Why didn't you tell your brother? He's always stuck out his neck for you, so why haven't you told him this?

*Hiro sighs as he turns to face the cashier.*

Hiro: Tadashi's been really busy with an after school project and is rarely home. I don't want to bother him.

Cashier: *Sighs* OK then, well I'll see ya later. Tell Cass and Tadashi I said Hi!

Hiro: K.

*With that Hiro exits through the back and safely to the streets. He passes through the corner where the other jocks are waiting to ambush him. But they were confused on what's taking Hiro so long to come out. Once Hiro makes it safely to his street address he snickers quietly over the stupidity of those pea-brained jocks. He enters inside the Cafe where Cass is delivering juice to an group of elderly people.*

Cass: Hey Hiro, how was your trip out?

Hiro: It was fine, nothing much. I'm just gonna be heading upstairs K? I'll make sure Mochi's okay.

Cass: Alright Hiro!

*Hiro heads upstairs and starts getting to work on his controller, anticipating for the bot-fight tonight.*

*The day soon turns into early evening where Cora is back home, facing a dilemma, and her father is out looking for work while her grandmother is out doing whatever she's doing. She sprawled out two outfits on her bed for her to change into; one is a set of a black long-sleeved shirt with a black denim vest with cloth hood, along with dark cargo pants and boots and complete with a traditional Japanese cat mask, and second one is a sleeveless knee length red dress with black flats and a see-through black shawl. She paces back and forth as she thinks over what she should do. These two activities are both dangerous each in its own way. On one hand, she could battle off fighters that would be more aggressive since the rules of the tournament will not apply to the streets. But on the other hand, she will be facing older men who she has no idea who they are and may potentially be dangerous.*

Cora: What to do, what to do, what to do? *Sighs as she stressfully runs her hands through her her and over her face* Maybe I should get a glass of water.

*With that, Cora closes the door behind her as she heads down to grab a glass. She drinks the glass of water as she passes by the living room where she sees it...a small Butsudan dedicated to her mother... Cora sighs before she heads over to the small shrine. She kneels down in front of the bustudan and clasp her hands in a prayer, she takes a deep breath before she looks up.*

Cora: Hi Mama...how are you? I mean... I know you're dead, but I hope you're OK in...wherever you are now...

*Cora goes quiet for a few moments before she speaks again.*

Cora: Papa has been teaching me self-defense for a quite while now, and Grandmama says I'm becoming strong. Also, I've graduated...in a sense...I finished my high school course, I even got a diploma.

*Cora points to a diploma where it states that Cora graduated as a home-schooled girl. But Cora's forced smile fades as she looks back at the shrine and talks again.*

Cora: Mama...I'm really worried about Papa... Ever since he was fired he looks so defeated and lost and I can't bear to see him like this anymore... I want to help anyway I can...actually that's what's happening now... A lady from earlier told me that she's looking for a partner for a double date and that they'll pay me... she also told me about a bot fight that's happening at the same time but she says I have no chance... Mama what am I going to do? I don't know what these people will be like when I go against them, but I also don't want to go with these strangers for a date...what would Papa and Grandmama say...

*Cora turns her head to another section of the shrine and saw a picture of her mother when she was pregnant and her father, they were both smiling. That's when she gains a determined look on her face.*

Cora: You know what Mama? I'm not going to that double date. I'm going bot-fighting! If I ever do go out on a date, I want it to be with someone who I love and loves me back and is around my age, not be paid like a doll for a middle aged man whose desperate to buy dates from girls like me.

*Cora stands up but quickly kneels down again to end her prayer.*

Cora: Thank you Mama for listening. I'll be careful at that bot fight!

*She then stands up and leaves, not noticing how the candle flame brighten with soft warmth on the main picture of her mother, a beautiful woman with golden-blond hair and sea blue eyes smiling gently. She enters her room as she looks at her outfit for bot fighting.*

Cora: Alright now! Lets get to work!

*Cora spends the next few hours working on her robot so that she'll be more suited for an intense bot fight rather than the fragile dancing robot she made as a child. She upgrades the controller with spare parts as she adjusts wires. Once she was done she grabs the outfit and starts dressing up. Now she appears more of a rouge modern ninja as she packs her robot, controller, and cat mask in her bag. She then writes a note to her family saying that she is using the money her grandmother gave her to see a movie and won't be back for a while. She knew that her father will still panic since she's going out by herself, but this is a risk she must take. She then makes a makeshift rope to climb out the port hole window, and due to her small height and size she can manage with ease. Once on the ground she starts sneaking through the streets as she heads her way to Good Luck Alley. A decision that will change her life forever.

*The evening begins to darken by the time Tadashi heads back to the Cafe where Cass is making some cappuccinos for her customers and smiles when he sees Hiro helping out by picking up the dirty dishes.*

Tadashi: Hey Aunt Cass, how's it going?

Cass: It's been pretty good so far, Hiro has been helping me out for a while now. He even fixed the espresso machine!

*Said espresso machine coughs a few times before it resumes to normal.*

Cass: Hopefully it'll last long enough to save up for a new one.

Tadashi: Alright Cass.

*Tadashi heads over to Hiro who is struggling with the massive load of dirty dishes, where he surprises Hiro by lending a hand to carry the dishes together.

Hiro: Tadashi! You're back early!

Tadashi: Nice to see you too knucklehead, and yeah I've managed to get some stuff done sooner than usual and decided to come home early for a day off.

Hiro: Cool!

*Hiro gives a somewhat strained smile, because while he's happy Tadashi is here right now, he was hoping he would be gone long enough to sneak out without raising suspicion.*

Tadashi: Something on your mind Nerd?

Hiro: * Smirks* Who are you calling a nerd, Nerd King?

Tadashi: *Chuckles* Alright, if you say so.

*After a while with the Cafe closed up and Cass finishing up dinner, Tadashi and Hiro talk over their day.*

Tadashi: So you went over to the mechanics store? How's Willie doing?

Hiro: Willie's fine, just getting some stuff for me to experiment with.

Tadashi: Hopefully not like the time you turned every utensil in the house into a rocket which caused a fork to land on my forehead.

Hiro: It was funny and you know it Dashi.

*Tadashi shakes his head as he chuckles, his little brother is definitely up to something for sure. After dinner, Tadashi and Hiro head up to their room where the older brother opens the screen door and flops down on his bed.*

Tadashi: Welp, today was exhausting, I'm just gonna lie down here and sleep like the dead.

Hiro: OK, sides I think I'm gonna crash down soon too.

Tadashi: Alright, night Hiro.

Hiro: Night Nerd.

*Hiro gets to his bed where he simply waited for the soft snoring of his brother. Once he knew that Tadashi is in deep sleep, Hiro quietly gets up and takes Megabot, his controller, and the wad of money to bet. Once he gets out of the house he dashes towards Good Luck Alley, excitement running through his system as he can't wait to win the jackpot tonight, equally unaware that his life will change forever.

*At the time of Hiro and his family are having their dinner, Cora had arrived at Good luck Alley. She spots from the distance the scantily clad lady with two older gentlemen, and the men looking more impatient as the time goes by. She pulls up her hood over her head and hides behind a trash can as the men are finally fed up and they walked with the lady together.*

Enjo: Can't believe this, that little piece of s*** ditched out on us.

Kosai: Eh, maybe it's for the best. I wanted a busty lady, not some flat chested brat.

*Cora held her breath as they walked down her path, waiting for the men and the lady to go away. But she did notice that the lady gave what looked like a small sigh of relief over the girl not showing up. Once she was sure they were gone Cora headed up and waited for the person running the bot-fight. She immediately slips on her cat mask and makes sure her hood is secure over her head and hiding her hair as she meets up the person in charge.*

Hime Na: What do you want kid?

*Cora's mind went to a state of internal panic. What was she going to say? How will the lady respond?! What if they turn her away?!*

Hime Na: Well? I'm waiting.

*Cora then remembers the time her father had scared off a group of rude teenagers when they were at the beach. His eyes burned along with his height that made them run in fear. Cora's eyes became determined as she simply pulls out some of the money and points to the bot fight ring, giving off her best imitation of her strong father.*

Hime Na: Alright, ya can go on in.

*Cora gives a nod in thanks before she seats herself to the opponent seat, which caught the woman off guard since she thought that the kid merely wanted to watch the fight and not be part of it. The first person to come was a late adolescent male with serious acne problems and a neck beard.*

Neck beard: Well lookie here, a little cosplayer.

*The crowd began to snicker as Cora remained silent.*

Neck Beard: Anyway, I'll go easy on you kid since this is your first time.

*He pulls out a robot that appears to have muscle and doing macho like poses. Needless to say that he was compensating for something very important. Cora pulls out her robot as she activates it with her controller, the robot goes from her egg mode to her robot form, still floating with electric green eyes.*

Neck Beard: Aww is the little kid gonna beat me with their little EVE dollie-

*That's when Cora launched her attack.*

*Hiro arrives at Good Luck Alley as he makes his way through the crowd to sign up for the bot fight. Once he signs up by using his innocent boy charm, he sets out on the opposite side of the alley where another ring is open.*

Spector #1: Hey, have ya heard? Some new kid beat the living crap out of Yabo.

Spector #2: Oh man... I never seen that loser bawl so hard, and that kid just keeps beating everyone every single time!

Spector #1: Yup, I heard that tonight, the two best bot fighters here will get into a special event where'll there'll be a ton of dough!

*Hiro is intrigued by this news. A new arrival that may be the perfect challenge for him? This is going to be fun. He immediately starts his usual bit where he'll appear as a first-time bot fighter and purposely lose, then go around and beat them. Once he finishes a number of rounds the person shows him the person he'll face next.*

Hime Na: Looks like it's gonna be you two next. This ought to be very interesting.

*That's when he finally gets a good view of his new rival. A person around his age wearing a cat mask in modern ninja clothing using what looks like a slimmer version of EVE from WALL-E and mercilessly beat it's much larger opponent. Due to it's small stature and electro-magnetic suspension that causes the bot to float, it can easily dodge and land a swift hit that ultimately left the rival bot scrambled.*

Hime Na: Looks like we have our winner! Now then, Nekodome come here.

*The one called Neko stands up and walks over as they pick up their bot, not even uttering a word.*

Hime Na: Now that we have our two reigning champions...it's time for the Duo Dual!

*The crowd began to chant as both Hiro and the ninja-clad person become confused. They thought they were gonna fight each other, not partner up!*

Hime Na: Now that these two are placed in the duo dual, they will face more danger for the large cash prize! Can these kids beat the baddest of the bad? Lets find out!

*Hiro and the ninja-clad person look at each other before they reluctantly sit down next to each other. Neither of them spoke as they are face to face with two opponents. They brought out their own robots that appear to be much more tougher than the others. Hiro turns to the person as said person looks over their robot as it gently skims over the smooth metal.*

Hiro: So...you're new here?

*The person doesn't respond, but they nod slightly as they place their bot down. Hiro then places Megabot down beside the EVE robot as the lady begins to set the stage.*

Hime Na: Four bots enter, only two can escape...fight!

*Immediately the other two charge their robots as Megabot launches forward while the EVE robot flies up, dodging the attack. The robot pinned Megabot down while the other goes after Eve. Megabot separates to pull out its circuits but the robot simply threw it away. Megabot barely stays within the circle as it lands and stands up. Eve is facing a similar problem, as it is pulled to a magnetic armor the bot wore; Evie barely escapes as it slams its head to the enemy bot. Then by a complete and miraculous accident, Megabot is launched to Evie's bot as it knocks it down and leaves a rather large dent, leaving the magnetism useless. Hiro and the person look at each and realize how they can beat them and win the prize.*

Hiro: You thinking what I'm thinking?

*The person nods their head excitedly as they both charged their robots at the damaged enemy bot. Evie zings forward as it spins its head in a tizzy, once it falls down Megabot jumps up and knocks out its heads. The person controlling the magnetic bot throws their controller in frustration as the other gets tense over the fight. The large bot jumps up and tried to pin down Evie but Megabot stops the enemy bot and restrain its limbs, leaving Evie to strike the robot repeatedly until it was nothing more than scrap metal. The pieces of metal rain down on the two victorious bots as they returned to their cute mode when they ended their fight with a bow.*

Hime Na: And the winners of the duo dual...Hiro and Nekodomo!

*There was a mixture of cheering and disgruntled disappointment. The person went over to collect the money and the prize money, and just as the person is heading over to give the jar to Hiro... Sirens went off in the distance.*

Spector #2: Crap! The cops are here!

*The first spector grabbed a bottle of a beer and smashed it to the ground and yells out.*

Spector #1: SCATTER!

*Everyone else begins to run in different directions, desperate to avoid the cops. Hiro went to run towards a shortcut he knows when he sees the ninja-clad person stand still like a deer in headlights. They were still carrying the money in their arms as their knees shook in terror. Out of his better judgement he went back and grabbed their hand and they bolted out of there before an officer can spot them. Hiro drags the person far away from the police cars as the person could only stare at the young teen in what appears to be an awe. They were approaching a safe distance when the person tripped on a piece of loose concrete and falls on their face. Hiro picks them up and they continue to run, leaving behind a broken cat mask. Once they are in a safe place away from the cops, Hiro turns his attention to the person.*

Hiro: *wheeze* That...*Wheeze* was close...*Wheeze*...this really must be your first bot fight huh? I have to admit though, you are really...

*But Hiro's voice trails off as the person removes the hood from their head and he finally gets a good look at the person beside him. They was actually a she. And she was his age with large beautiful purple eyes and short blue hair that fluffed with elegance. And just her face is described as innocent and very cute. Cora also finally gets a good look at the boy beside her named Hiro. He was her age with large almond brown eyes, messy black hair and a tooth gap, and Cora couldn't help but think that he was very cute too. The two teens stare at each other as they felt something sparkle in their eyes..*

Cora:...H-hi...

Hiro: He-hey...

*Cora blushes as she looks down a little over the silent space between them. Hiro then clears his throat as he regains his state of mind.*

Hiro: A-as I was saying...You're a really good bot-fighter...

Cora: Thank you...

*They both stand up as they feel their hearts pounding heavily inside them.*

Hiro: So...Nekodomo is probably an alias right...

Cora: Yeah... but if you want to know... My name is Cora Mizichio.

Hiro: Cora...W-well my name is Hiro. Hiro Hamada that is.

*Hiro straightens his voice to be deeper to try and flirt with the cute girl, which causes Cora to giggle at his flirtation. Then Cora reaches out her hand to shake his.*

Cora: Thank you for being my partner in the bot fight...and for saving me back there.

Hiro: O-oh! It was no problem actually...

*Cora then looks at the prize money she stuffed in her bag.*

Cora: Oh right! So Hiro...do you want to split up the prize money?

*She begins to pull out the money, but in the distance Hiro sees a very familiar moped. Oh crap, Tadashi is coming!*

Hiro: Uhh... Actually, you keep it! I guess...hopefully I'll see you around again?

*Cora's face became a deep shade of red over his generosity. She expected that he would want half of the prize money, but this...this is the sweetest thing he has ever done for her, and they had only just met.*

Cora: T-thank you...I gotta go right now...but yeah, I'll see ya later... Hopefully we can team up at another bot fight again sometime?

Hiro: Y-yeah! T-that sounds great! See-see ya!

*Cora was about to run off with the money, but not before she unthinkably kisses Hiro on the cheek. Hiro blinks in shock as he watches the girl run off into the darkness as he slowly brings his hand up to his cheek with a stunned and lovestruck look on his face... At that moment, all he could think about was if this is how Prince Charming felt after Cinderella ran off from the ball when the clock stuck midnight. And that all that was missing from this moment was a glass slipper.*

Tadashi: Hiro! what are you doing out here?! Do you have any idea what time it is?!

*Hiro doesn't respond, as he's still staring off in the direction Cora ran off in with a derpy lovesick smile on his face.*

Tadashi: Hiro? Hey Hiro, are you alright?

Hiro: Hmmm...Oh hey Dashi... When did you get here?

Tadashi: *Giving Hiro a confused look, now starting to get concerned for his younger brother* I've been here for the last twenty seconds trying to figure out why your all the way out here this late at night, which by the way you still haven't answered me about yet. Are you okay though? You're acting kinda weird and you look a little flushed too. Are you starting to get sick?

Tadashi tries to place his hand on Hiro's forehead to feel his temperature, but Hiro snaps out of his newly developed lovesickness just in time to swats his hand away before he can get the chance.*

Hiro: Relax Nerd King. I'm not getting sick, I'm just...a little tired that's all... So what are we waiting for? We heading home or what?

*Tadashi just watches with concerned eyes as Hiro gets on the moped without another word and puts on his helmet. They both ride off to the Cafe in silence as Tadashi wonders what the heck happened to his brother at that bot fight?!*

*Cora climbed up the window as she quietly strips her ninja clothes and into her sleeping gown as she quietly puts the money into her father's savings. She blushes over the memory of the boy who gave her the prize money when he could have easily demanded it all. She sighs dreamily as she heads upstairs to finally sleep.*

Cora: Good night everyone...goodnight Hiro...wherever you are...

*Since then, Cora and Hiro have met up in the following four months after. They would meet up at night where they not only bot fight the other fighters, but chatted in private over their lives, interests and hobbies. Both are surprisingly similar and yet so different. Hiro talked about his life at the Cafe with his aunt and brother and their pet cat, his interest in robotics, anything that came to mind when usually he wanted nothing to do with conversations. Cora told him that she lived with her father and grandmother alone in a small house nearby his place, her love for marine biology, and how she was home-schooled her whole life. They both instantly connected when they learned that they are both genius prodigies, someone very intelligent like them. Even through their excitement and obvious feelings for each other, they never told the other in fear that they would consider it gross or reject them and thus ruin their newly formed, but already highly valued friendship. Young love at its finest.*

Kaguya: Cora, I hope you don't mind me saying this, but you've seemed to be in a very good mood for a while now.

*Cora looks up from her daydreaming daze as she sees that she had not taken a bite out of her porridge.*

Kaguya: Not that it's a bad thing, it's like you have a new burst of energy that radiates inside your heart and making you glow with pure happiness.

Cora: *blushes with a small smile on her face* Well...thank you Grandmama.

*Kaguya did indeed see a big change in Cora. Her shy demeanor was slowly fading away as she became more confident over her voice, she began to sing more than usual, singing mostly love songs as she noticed, as she slightly dances with the broom while doing chores, and she has more energy in self-defense lessons with he father.*

*Across the kitchen, she hears her father talking on the phone, he was talking a manager of a job that her Dad applied for. His voice turns from soft and low to excited and booming.*

Mizuchi: Are you sure? No I will take it! Thank you very much!

*Mizuchi hangs the phone up as he lets out a joyful booming laugh.*

Mizuchi: Mother-in-law! My little Cora!

*Mizuchi runs to the kitchen where he picks up the two ladies and spins around happily.*

Cora: Did you get the job Papa?

Mizuchi: Yes!

Cora: I'm so happy for you!

*Cora hugs her father tightly as the grandmother gently pats his head in approval. He puts them down as he starts preparing for his big job coming soon. As her father prances around happily while her grandmother goes to make herself tea, Cora's heart suddenly drops as she realizes what this means...*

Cora: Oh no...what am I gonna tell Hiro?

*She only joined the bot fights so that she can support her father, and now that her father is no longer unemployed, she would have to stop going there. But that also meant she coudn't see Hiro anymore...*

Cora: I...I should tell him that this will be my last night...

*As of while, Hiro was also busy daydreaming over the blue-haired girl he had gotten close to, playing with the yolk of his eggs as leans his head to his hand.*

Tadashi: *Waving his hand over Hiro's face and than snapping his fingers trying to once again get his younger brother out of his daze* Hello? Earth to Hiro, earth to Hiro! Where are you?

*Hiro snaps out of his thoughts as he stops playing with his food. The funny side up egg glared at Hiro for destroying their friend's face.*

Tadashi: Seriously Hiro, you been acting really weird for the last few months. What's gotten into you Bro. Are you sure you're feeling alright?

Hiro: *Clears throat* Y-yeah, yeah! I'm fine Tadashi, totally fine! There's nothing to worry about at all!

*Hiro finishes his breakfast as he puts away the dirty dish. While Tadashi's eyebrows furrowed, Cass leans over and bumps his shoulder with her elbow with a wide and excited smile of her face.*

Cass: I don't know about you...but I think he's really got it bad!

Tadashi: It? What 'it?' And why does Hiro 'really got it bad'?

Cass: Oh Tadashi...don't you see? I think Hiro might be in love!

*Tadashi's eyes widened as he takes in this information his aunt told him as she hums merrily to continue working.*

Tadashi: Hiro's...in love?!...With who?!

Cass: Well obviously he's not gonna just tell us. You don't know this because you haven't found someone yet, but everyone always keeps their first love a secret, especially when it's young love! *Sighs* Our little Hiro is growing up so fast!

*After his aunt tells him this, Tadashi begins to think over Hiro's behavior ever since that night he found his brother in a daze. And the following months since then, Hiro has been much more helpful around the house and Cafe, been in a much more cheerful mood than he's usually in, constantly dazing out and daydreaming with a dopey lovesick look on his face, and if all that hadn't been odd enough, he has also been looking up information about the ocean lately with the newly developed focus on killer whales. So if what his aunt just told him did in fact ring true, along with the fact that Hiro wasn't gonna tell him about it since this was his first love and what-not, He than decided that when Hiro goes out to another bot fight, he will finally meet the young person his little brother has been seeing for the past four months.*

Tadashi: Alright Hiro, since your obviously not gonna tell me who your new little friend is, I'm just gonna have to follow you and find out myself.

*Later on, Tadashi waited for Hiro to sneak out of the house to follow him in the cover of night, determined to find out who this mysterious person that had stolen Hiro's heart.*

*Cora and Hiro are at the bot fight as a tag team where they are currently facing off a representative of Yama, a notorious Yakuza leader in San Fransokyo. They were head to head as both Cora's bot Evie and Megabot held hands as they spin fast enough to chop off the head off the bot. However the crowd didn't exactly cheer so loudly this time...The man playing against Hiro and a disguised Cora had made a bet using Yama's personal cash he made from his illegal businesses... And he just lost it to the two teens. Hiro happily accepts the money and stuffs it to his pocket.*

Hiro: Thank you very much, now lets see... who else want some?

*But then he notices Cora walking away after the bot fight, and she appeared downtrodden. Hiro stuffs the money in his pockets as he runs to catch up with Cora, all the while the loser was giving the stink eye to the two teens, and his buddies are standing behind him dangerously.*

Hiro: Hey Cora! You a...y-you heading out early? What? Did you're Dad figure out or...?

*Cora sighs as she removes the mask and hood and looks at the boy.*

Cora: Hiro...You do know that the reason I come to bot fights is to help my Dad out with money issues right?

Hiro: Yeah...?

Cora: Well, my Dad finally found a job...and since he's not so stressed out anymore and our money problems are settled out now... I can't go to the bot fights anymore...

Hiro: W-what?

*Hiro, though being a genius prodigy, is still a 13 year old boy. His thoughts were running through his head as he felt his heart begin to tremble. Cora felt her eyes grow warm as she looks at her feet.*

Hiro: Does this mean...I-I won't be able to see you anymore?

*Cora continues to stare at her feet as she does her best to hold back her tears. But before either can respond, they hear footsteps behind them, stopping as their shadows loomed over them.*

Dead Meat: Well lookie here...seems these little kids are having a little trouble...

*Hiro recognizes them as the people who lost the money that belonged to Yama, and they most likely want it back. He then turned his head to Cora who looks at the grown men with wary eyes.*

Dead Meat: Either way...I want that money back.

*The men grab Hiro and pin him to the wall where they begin to punch the boy. Cora rushes towards them and begins to try and pull the men off Hiro.*

Cora: Leave him alone!

Goon #1: Don't get involved girly.

*The man throws Cora to the ground where she injured her leg. She looks up to see the men now kicking Hiro where he fell to the ground and curled up in a ball trying to shield himself. Cora's eyes changed from fear to pure fury. She looks at the men with a low and dangerous voice.*

Cora: I said...Leave. Him. Alone!

*Tadashi finally manages to arrive at the location where the bot fight is taking place, as he stills to a halt he hears distant screaming coming from his right. His throat tightened as he fears the worst. He speeds up towards an alley, immediately getting off his moped and ready to use his karate skills to protect Hiro...What he saw was the opposite of what he expected. In front of him is a young 13 year old girl with blue hair punching the men in the face and delivers a hard kick to their groins. He then spots Hiro on the ground where he rushes to his brother's aid.*

Tadashi: Hiro! Are you alright?!

Hiro: *Groggily* I'm f-fine... just check on...C-cora...

*Tadashi raises an eyebrow before he realizes what's going on and ultimately, the identity of the person Hiro was gushing over.*

Tadashi: *Looks up at the girl who was beating the men to pulp* So..that's Cora...

*Cora finally flips them over as she breathes heavily over the bruised men.*

Cora: Now Get Lost!

*The men stand up and run with their tails behind their backs. Cora takes a few breathes before she turns around and sees a young man holding Hiro. She straightens her clothes and clasps her hands together as she recalls the pictures Hiro showed her on his phone that showed his family and the stories he told her about them.*

Cora: O-oh! Um...H-hello... My name is Cora Mizchio! I'm Hiro's Gir- uh...h-his friend! You must be Tadashi. Hiro's told me all about you.

*She gives a sheepish smile as Tadashi looks over the girl and his brother, deciding that they all need to figure out what the hell is going on.*

Tadashi: Uh, do...do you mind if we all head to the cafe?

Cora: Sure?

Tadashi: Also...we may need to call your parents...

Cora: *Suddenly looking very nervous*...Oh...

*The ringtone playing Sebonzakura loudly got Kaguya's attention as she answers.*

Kaguya: Moshi moshi...Who are you...Wait...What?! Alright. We'll be right over.

*Kaguya hangs up her phone as she heads to her Son-in-laws room and pulls off the covers.*

Kaguya: Get up stupid son-in-law! Cora is out there in the middle of the night!

*Mizuchi barely heard anything as his senses were not fully activated. He was ready to doze off when Kaguya then told him what he feared most and would most likely listen to.*

Kaguya: Cora is at a Boy's house in the middle of the night!

*That shot Mizuchi awake as he immediately runs out and gets dressed, yelling loudly on how and why is his innocent daughter doing at a boy's house in the middle of the night. Kaguya shakes her head as she mumbles to herself.*

Kaguya: ...That girl better explain herself...

*As of while Hiro, Tadashi, and Cora got inside the house where Tadashi takes them upstairs.*

Tadashi: Alright, I'm going to get some bandages for you guys, also Cora, you're grandmother and father are on their way now... Man what a night...

*Tadashi goes of to the bathroom to get the medical supplies, leaving Hiro and Cora alone...*

Cora: So... this is where you live huh?...it's cool...and the Cafe looks pretty..

Hiro: Thanks... I'll tell Aunt Cass what you said..

*After a few minutes of silence, a chubby white and calico cat walks over to the two injured teens*

Cora: *Gushing* Oh! Hey there little guy, aren't you a cutie! Is this your pet cat Hiro? The one from the pictures you showed me on your phone?

Hiro: Yep, that's Mochi alright.

Cora: Well the pictures clearly don't do him justice. He's even cuter and adorable in person!

*Mochi starts to sniff the young girl as she says this and purrs. He than jumps up and rests himself on her lap.*

Hiro: Wow, he must really like you.

Cora: *Petting Mochi* Really?

Hiro: Yeah, he usually never trusts anyone this quickly.

*However, While Mochi senses she is in fact a good person, he is more attracted to the fact that she smelled of the ocean, therefore fish and therefore food.*

*They both start petting Mochi for a moment more before Cora finally breaks the ice as she begins to laugh.*

Cora: Oh my god...I just realized something...

Hiro: What?

Cora: Hiro, just because I can't go to bot fights anymore doesn't mean I can't still see you again...

Hiro: Oh! Oh...

*The two teens begin to laugh, while unbeknownst to them Tadashi is listening to the conversation, along with Cass who woke up from the commotion, along with Cora's father and Grandmother who had just arrived and were at the moment observing the two teens from the top of the stairs. They all look at the two teens with still breaths.*

Hiro: Yeah...so much for us being teen geniuses am I right!

Cora: Yeah, after all we can see each other at other places like the movies.

Hiro: Yeah! There's also the arcade and maybe that aquarium you like so much!

Cora: Uh huh! After all, they would make some awesome dates-

*Cora stops talking as soon as she realizes what she said. Hiro looks at Cora with also wide eyes as he too blushes over Cora's words. The two teens remain silent for a while as the adults ponder what's going to happen next. Finally Cora speaks up.*

Cora: Hiro...I know this is going to be really crazy for you to hear...but when I'm with you I feel like I can do anything, like I'm not afraid of what's outside anymore... You helped me when I was scared or confused over the slightest things... What I mean to say..is...

*Cora clenches her eyes as she finally spits out her feelings.*

Cora: I really like you Hiro! As in Like you-like you...You know what, screw it! I love you Hiro!

*The adults held in their gasps as they watched the young girl who have been so quiet and demure confess her love to the boy with such a loud and unwavering voice. Silence rang for a few moments as Cora mentally prepares herself for rejection. She opens her eyes as she sees Hiro holding her hand in his, Cora blushes intensely as Hiro gathers his courage and rushes out his words.*

Hiro: I...really like you too Cora, I don't think you should really like me cause I'm a huge freaking nerd and I'm awkward and I don't really know what I'm doing or if I'm doing it right, I don't even know if I'm holding your hand right! Also you're very pretty and smart and sweet and in just these last few months we've known each other... I'm just plain crazy for you!

*Cora's face blossoms to a loving smile as she tightens her hand in Hiro's.*

Cora: But you being a nerd and awkward are two of the reasons why I like you, and to be honest I thought you wouldn't like me because compared to other girls I'm not exactly...developed is the best way I can put it...

Hiro: I... I actually don't mind that you're n-not developed. I-I mean you're still really pretty...and I don't really like girls who put way too much effort into being attractive anyway... I mean it kind of makes them look fake you know...?

Cora: Yeah...

*As they spoke they begin to lean closer, their hearts pounding as their eyes slowly close...*

Cass: Wooh! Go Hiro!

*The teens snap out of it as they realized they were watched by both of their familes.*

Hiro: W-what the heck guys! What ever happened to privacy?!

*Cass simply hugs the two together which in turn they let out cringes and soft ows. She lets go as she realizes that they have yet to be treated for their wounds.*

Cass: Oh! Sorry! Sorry! My bad! Didn't mean to hurt you two through hugging! Alrighty then! I'm...I'm gonna go make some tea! Does anyone else want tea? I'll make that tea!

*Cass leaves the room with an excited squeal while Tadashi heads over to Hiro and Cora with the bandages with a sly smile on his face.*

Tadashi: Nice job Hiro.

Hiro: *Awkwardly rubs the back of his head while blushing* Hehe...thanks...

Tadashi: Even if you did one up me by getting a girlfriend first.

*Tadashi jokingly said this as he ruffles Hiro's messy hair.*

Hiro: Dashi...

*Tadashi looks at Cora who shyly looks up at him as she swings her legs back and forth. He leans to Cora's ear as he whispers.*

Tadashi: *Whispers* Cora, whatever you did, thanks. I've never seen Hiro this happy.

Cora: *Giggles as she whispers back* Your welcome, and I'm glad he has an older brother like you to watch out for him.

*Both smiled at each other as Cora and Tadashi shook hands. Finally, Cora acknowledged her family.*

Cora: Papa! Grandmama! I know you two are here, so you can come out now!

*The sight of Mizuchi's Goliath-like stature kind of made Hiro lean towards Tadashi as the older brother keeps his cool over the massive man who is looking at Hiro with an intense stare...*

*WHACK!*

*Both boys are caught off guard as the small elder woman whacked the taller man with her cane.*

Kaguya: Stop trying to scare the poor boy Mizuchi! Cora and that boy Hiro are dating now! So you better not try to scare him or break him!

Mizuchi: But Mother-in-law! We don't know anything about hi-

*WHACK!*

Kaguya: Then take the time to get to know him better! *To Hiro* I am so sorry for my son-in-law. I assure you, he means well. But I'm afraid sometimes he can be a little too intimidating and protective of Cora for his own good. Now then, lets get a good look at you shall we.

*Kaguya than leans down to get a better look at Hiro. She looks deep into Hiro's eyes, which caused Hiro to feel a little unnerved with how intense the older woman's gaze was and wondering exactly why she felt the need to stare him in the eyes like this. When she finally stopped gazing into his eyes, something he was grateful for, She was smiling approvingly at him.*

Kaguya: Yes. Oh yes, you are a true keeper my dear boy, a true keeper indeed. Definitely perfect for our Cora, no doubt you'll treat her as the treasure she truly is.

Cora: *Looking down in embrrassment* Grandmama...

Mizuchi: But...Mother-in-law, are you sure that he's-

Kaguya: Mizuchi!... I know how you feel about all of this, but you and I both know that this was bound to happen eventually. And need I remind you, I myself was overprotective of Akemi when she first met you, but in the end I accepted the fact that you were both made for each other. Besides...it can't be helped. They obviously have true feelings for each other...they both need each other now Mizuchi...

*Both Kaguya and Mizuchi looked at each other intensely for the next few moments. Though it wasn't exactly a stare down as some people would think, it was more of a silent conversation. Hiro and Tadashi shared a glance with each other before both boys looked over to Cora hoping she could explain the situation, however Cora just shrugged looking just as confused as the boys before all three of them went back to watching the two intensely staring/silent communicating adults wondering how long this was gonna keep up. Fortunately, they didn't have to wait long as Mizuchi finally relents as he sighs heavily and runs his hand through hair.*

Mizuchi:...It really can't be helped can it... Alright Mother-in-law. I'm still not thrilled about all this...but I guess I don't really have a choice now do I?

Kaguya: You already know that answer as well as I do son-in-law.

*The three shared another confused glance with each other, still not fully understanding as to what was going on. But thankfully at that moment Aunt Cass returns to the living room with the tea cups as she finally sees Cora's family.*

Cass: Oh! You two must be Cora's Father and Granmother! Hi I'm Cass, I'm Hiro and Tadashi's aunt.

*Cora yawns loudly as she felt the sleepiness start to run to her head.*

Kaguya: I'm sorry Miss Cass, but it's pretty late now...

*Cora then speaks up.*

Cora: However that doesn't mean we can't meet up again.

*She turns to Hiro as she smiles*

Cora: Would you and your family like to come over to our house and stay over for dinner?

Kaguya: Would you like to stay over forever?

Mizuchi: Mother-in-law!

*Hiro covers his mouth to suppress his giggles before he clears his throat and faces Cora.*

Hiro: Dinner would be great.

*With that the families parted their separate ways, Cora giving a kiss on the cheek for Hiro as she gives him her phone number but not before she apologizes for what happened between her father and grandmother, still having no idea as to what that was all about. To which Hiro told her it was fine, a little weird he was willing to admit, but fine, much to her relief. As she flops into her bed, she felt like she could float on a sunbeam. She is officially in a romantic relationship with an amazing boy, someone she can relate to and talk to, someone who made her feel special. Hiro also flopped onto his bed, exhausted, but happier than he had ever been in years. He now has a girlfriend and had scored said girl's number, although Tadashi wouldn't stop teasing him about this. Like when are they gonna have their first kiss? When are they gonna get married? Could he be his best man at the wedding? He knew it embarrassed Hiro and made him freak out, which is why he did it. Hiro couldn't wait to show Cora the inventions he and Tadashi had invented over the years! Maybe he'd even share his secret stash of gummy bear with her.*

Tadashi: Hiro, get into your pj's, you can't be comfortable sleeping in your normal clothes.

*Tadashi is in his bed and ready to pass out. Hiro just groaned in response, his eyes already closed as he drifted off to sleep with the thought of Cora on his mind.*

A.N: Here is an updated one-shot of the story 'Fire and Ice Roses'. With the help of Wolfwithchuntress1314 and Thank you for following Big Hero 7 the Series and for being patient. Love you!

#Fire and Ice Roses #Cora Mizichio #Hiro Hamada #Hiro Hamada x OC #Mizuchi Mizichio #Kaguya Sakurai #Grandmama #Cameos #Felony Carl #Kurt the Jerk #scanty #Aunt Cass #Tadashi Hamada #fanfic oneshot #fanfic #big hero 6 #big hero 6 the series #big hero 7

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years

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#3 with Sternclay? If you could, from Stern’s perspective? He’s one of my favorite characters and I love how you write him :)

Thanks, I love writing from his perspective! Prompt 3 was “Song” and went with SFW

Joseph Stern has more house than he knows what to do with. His father has given him this building on the coast of Virginia, no doubt in hopes of hiding his eccentric--and only remaining--son from polite society.

But the house may as well be a cave, a country full of strangers, a vast and cold space that Stern has no idea how to fill beyond the ghosts of the past it already contains. He has no lovers, no children, and the servants, used to his father’s temperament rather than his, give him a wide berth. And so he fills it with his books, his research into the strange and unusual, politely eats the meals the elderly cook prepares even though his eyesight seems to have given him the habit of mistaking one spice for another.

He’s also taken to having a nightly constitutional along the beach. It’s stormy and grey more often than not, but it suits his mood. Usually he’s perfectly alone. But tonight he must not be, because on the wind, he hears someone singing.

While the raging seas did roar

And the stormy winds they did blow,

And we jolly sailor boys was up, up aloft

And the landlubbers lying down below, below, below,

And the landlubbers lying down below.

It’s a rich baritone, longing and sad, and Stern wanders the beach up and down twice before he gives up on finding the singer. He resigns himself to it being a one time occurrence.

But the next night, the voice finds him again.

As we lay musing on our bed,

So early morn at ease,

We thought upon those lodging beds

Poor sailors have at sea.

This time he follows it through the second chorus of the song. And there, in the fading grey light of evening, a man is perched on an outcropping of rocks. He has shaggy hair, and even in the poor light Stern catches sight of copper within it. His beard is messy, and he’s bare-chested, a baffling choice in this weather.

As Stern makes his way across a nearby patch of rising tide, he loses his balance and splashes onto his knees.

By the time he looks up, the song is over and the man is gone, though he sees no sign of him upon the beach.

The third night, Stern is ready. He finds the outcropping, hiding himself down out of view of all but one side of the shore and sea.

Just as he’s starting to shiver and curse his poor judgement, a low, sweet humming begins. It’s the same melody, and he wants to dive into the voice, let it drown him if need be. The man hums a good portion of the song before his voice carries across the windy shore.

I'm sorry for my mother dear,

I'm lost in the salt, salt sea.

For last night, last night, the moon shone bright,

And you know that she had sons five,

Tonight she may look in the salt, salt waves

And find but one alive, alive,

And find but one alive.

The singing ceases, and in it’s place he hears a sigh. Cautiously, he sits so that the man can see him.

“That was wonderful.”

The man starts, turns to leave and Stern, in a moment of unusual impulsiveness, grabs his arm, “Wait, please, I just wanted...to..say…” He stares at the silver and blue tail that starts at the mans waist.

“Please let go.” The man says with the air of someone trying very hard to mask their panic with calm.

Stern drops his arm at once.

“I, I didn’t mean to alarm you. I’ve heard you singing the last few nights and I wanted to see who you were, I meant to show myself right away but I got caught up in the song.”

Brown eyes narrow, “Is that all you want?”

“Yes. I’ll admit I also have a multitude of questions based on this new development.” He gestures to the tail, “but-”

A wave crests, drenching them both.

“Damn it.” He shivers.

The merman chuckles, “yeah, that’s why all sensible humans stay off these rocks.”

“I’m plenty sensible.” Stern mutters, shivers again. The merman seems to reach for a coat that isn’t there, then sets his hands on the stones.

“Come back at midday tomorrow if you really do want to talk.”

“Should I bring anything? Something for your trouble.?”

Calloused fingers drum on the rocks, “Cake? Or even just bread?”

“I can manage that.” He holds out his hand and the merman shakes it, then dives into the rolling sea without another word.

-------------------------------------

“Uh, I don’t mean to be rude but where the hell did you get this bread?” The merman, who introduced himself as Barclay when they met at the edge of the waves, looks down at the chunk of bread skeptically.

“My cook made it. I, um, am trying my hand at it as well. For perhaps obvious reasons.”

“I could teach you. Or at least tell you what to do so you could write it down.”

“How on--are there ovens underwater?”

“No” Barclay tosses the remaining bread to a waiting gull, “I remember from, well, from before.”

“You became merman rather than being born one?” He wants to press further, but the sorrow darting across Barclay’s face suggests that is unwise.

“The ship I was one went down. I...well, I tried to save people. According to one of the few other mers I know, if someone dies at sea while trying to do a selfless act, sometimes that’s enough for them to turn into mer. Not really clear on the mechanics beyond that.”

“Incredible.”

“Glad you think so.” Barclay’s expression is turning glum, and so Stern tries a different line of conversation.

“Are sea monsters real?”

Barclay chuckles, “Gonna ask about those instead of sunken wrecks laden with gold?”

“Those are far less interesting.”

“Kraken is real, sort of. There are some very large squid down there. Fish bigger than you can imagine, sharks too.”

“Say more.” Stern offers him the flash of tea he brought and Barclay eagerly accepts it.

“Well, some of them are harmless--are you writing this down?”

“Just for my own records. Please, keep going.”

And so pass their first few meetings, Stern electing to bring Barclay food from town after the first time, reveling in his delight at the meals. They eat and talk, Barclay eventually comfortable enough with Stern to come fully ashore. On warmer, sunny days they even lay side by side on their backs, and sometimes Barclay’s tail will brush or tap Sterns leg.

He doesn’t mind at all.

One day, after Barclay bemoans his inability to trim his beard to his liking (“water and sharp metal aren’t friends), Stern comes down to the water with his razor, soap, hand mirror, and brush, swearing that if he can successful keep himself clean shaven in the terrible mirrors in the house, he can trim Barclay’s beard without disaster. And so Barclay lays, tail in the surf and head in Sterns lap, as the man meticulously sets about his task.

When he’s done, Barclay sits up and looks into the hand mirror.

“That’s much better. You got some clever hands there, Joseph.” He grins and Stern tries to distract himself from the double meaning by brushing stray sand from his beard.

This backfires harder than a mis-built canon. Barclay rests his hand atop Sterns own, rubbing his cheek against his palm with a sigh.

“You take such good care of me, Joseph. God, if I weren’t as I am, I’d take such good care of you right back.” His free hand traces the line of Stern’s cheekbone, dips down to caress his jaw.

“You, you’ve been wonderful as well, I’ve learned so much, and it’s so nice to pass the time with you, even if you cannot follow me home or takeover the kitchen.”

“I could be even better to you, if you’d let me.”

“I will let you do whatever you want.” Stern shuts his eyes to better feel the touch of Barclay’s hands, “I will follow you like a beacon.”

The hands leave his skin. When he opens his eyes to search for the reason, Barclay’s tanned face has gone pale.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no it’s, I, just, you reminded me of something.” He pulls away from Stern, turning to face the sea. Stern doesn’t follow, although he aches to.

“Would you feel better if I left?” He asks softly.

Barclay shakes his head, “No, but I’ll feel better, in a way, if I say this. I told you I was in a shipwreck. That much is true. I told you I was a cook before, that was true as well. But what I didn’t tell you was that I was a cook one town over, for a family who was, well, they had more than enough money but that didn’t stop them from wanting more. So once a month, at the new moon, they’d go to the cliffs by the rockiest, most dangerous part of the coastline and hold up lanterns.”

“They were wreckers.”

A solemn nod, “When the ship was sunk, they’d go down the next morning and plunder the wreck. I never helped them, but I knew what they were doing long before I tried to stop it. Then one night, I couldn’t take it anymore. I rowed out to the target, tried to tell them not to go towards those lights. They wouldn’t listen, held me prisoner thinking it was a trap. When she went down, just as the water covered my head, my legs twisted and changes into a tail and I could breathe beneath the waves. Making me the only man to make it off the Golden Willow alive.”

Stern gasps, covers his mouth in shock.

“The Golden Willow was the ship my brother was on when he died. A merchant, traveling with his stock.”

“I’m sorry.” Barclay’s eyes are wet, and Sterns turn that way as well as the mer dives into the sea, shame etched in his face.

-------------------------------------------

Call for boats, call for boats, my fair Plymouth boys,

Do you hear how the trumpets sound?

For the want of a long-boat in the ocean we're lost

And most of our merry men drowned.

“I don’t blame you, you know?” Stern stands in the sand, several books clutched to his chest.

Barclay doesn’t reply, but does turn to look at him.

“And, if I’m right, you think your being a merman is as much a curse for your inaction as it is a blessing for your attempt to save the ship and her men.”

A nod, accompanied by Barclay wiping a palm beneath his eye, “God, I miss so much. I, I’m glad I’m not dead, but I miss my kitchen, I miss the markets on summer mornings, food that isn’t fish.” He flicks his tail in frustration, “I miss sleeping in featherbed, not that I ever really got to being a cook and all, I miss my friends, my little sister, everyone.”

As he speaks, Stern hurries up the rocks to join him, guides him into his arms. He doesn’t cry, but he breathes heavily, holds tightly to the front of Stern’s coat.

“I looked through my library, did hours of research,” he inclines his head towards the books, “I found a few supposed means of transforming a merman into a human. I have no idea what is myth or anecdote and what, if anything, will work. But if you want to be human again, I’ll help you.”

“Thank you.” Barclay whispers, and Stern continues holding him, face stinging with salt spray, and stroking the planes of his tail soothingly until the other man is ready to let go.

Over the next several weeks, they try every potion, prayer, and process Stern was able to find, all to no avail. They’re sitting, dejected, side by side on the sand, when Stern spots one recommendation he dismissed as the stuff of fairy-tales.

“I have something to try. Um, please close your eyes, because I have a feeling I’m about to look very silly.”

Barclay obliges. Stern cups his cheeks, kisses him soundly, certain this will be the only time he gets to do so, no matter how much he longs to do it each day.

Barclay chuckles, eyes still shut, “Was that really a suggestion, or just an excuse to-”

Then he groans, head falling forward to rest on Stern’s shoulder, his whole body convulsing. Stern watches in awe as his tail slowly shimmers and dissolves, leaving feet and legs in it’s place.

“Really? Really? That was the solution?” Stern giggles, “of all the nonsense I read, I didn’t think ‘kiss of a lover true’ was worth a second look.”

“Kiss of what now?” Barclay shakes his head to clear it with a woozy, yet knowing, smile.

“I, um, I-” Stern blushes, both from his admission and from spying that Barclay is now completely naked.

“Joseph” Barclay kisses his cheek and he melts into the sand, “you think that after all that talk of wanting to treat you well, I wouldn’t want you kissing me?”

“I didn’t want to presume.”

“You can presume whatever you want. Fuck, Joseph, I’m in love with you and you just gave me the one thing I thought I’d lost, you could ask anything and I’ll give it.”

“In that case, would you come home with me? Though we may want to get you some clothes first.”

“What? Not enjoying the view?” He rolls onto his back, and Stern gets a full glimpse of just how good a view it is before shielding his eyes.

“I didn’t say that.” He smiles, laughs when Barclays beard tickles his throat and his teeth nip his ear, “but I think it would be enjoyed even more in my nice, feather bed. Don’t you?”

#mermay fills #sternclay #agent stern/barclay

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fireblaze5555 · 4 years

Text

Fire Away: Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Well I WIsh I Could Say That I’ve Never Been Here Before

Also on Ao3: Fire Away: Chapter 9

Super emotional sexy times in this chapter.

The next day found them in an unfamiliar diner across town, Frank and Karen on one side, Matt and Foggy on the other. Karen fidgeted with her straw wrapper, trying not to look as nervous as she felt. When she glanced up she noticed Frank and Matt were having a ‘staring’ contest of sorts, both scowling deeply at the other. Foggy was trying to act casual but she could see tension in every inch of his face.

Letting out a long suffering sigh, Karen snapped her hand down on the table bringing all eyes to her. “Listen, if you two want to make moon eyes at each other the entire time, that’s fine, Foggy and I can get another booth and discuss the situation.”

Matt had the decency to look a bit sheepish and Frank gave her what she was coming to understand as an apologetic look before he sat back in the booth to rest his arm behind her on the seat. When she looked over to Foggy, he was doing his best not to laugh, a smirk tugging at his lips. If it weren’t for his unease around Frank he would be outright laughing.

Matt cleared his throat, “You said you knew who was behind the attempts on your life?”

Karen opened her mouth to respond but Frank snorted before taking a quick drink of his coffee. His voice was casual but he was clearly antagonizing, “Yeah, Murdock, it’s someone who should be in the ground instead of a jail cell.”

Squeezing Frank’s knee under the table, Karen turned a withering glare at him. There was no apologetic look this time, he just shrugged and took a longer drink of his coffee. Matt, for his part, didn’t respond, just clenched his hands around his own coffee and kept his attention on Karen.

It was Foggy’s turn to jump in, his eyes wide with disbelief, “How is that even possible? He’s under constant surveillance and his contact is limited. Brett has been checking in personally to ensure that he isn’t getting special treatment like last time.”

Another sigh, this one defeated, escaped Karen before she answered, “Because he still has enough money and power to get around the justice system. We’ve slowed him down putting him behind bars but I think it was more just an inconvenience for him. What we have found over the past couple of weeks is that he was using me more as a diversion to distract from what he was trying to accomplish.” Karen launched into the particulars of what they had found, being sure to lower her voice whenever the waitress would return or other patrons strolled by. When she mentioned Vanessa being the outside link, Matt let out a quiet curse.

“Okay, so what is our plan then?” Foggy asked. Karen gave him an affectionate smile, he was all business now, whatever discomfort he had disintegrated when there was work to do.

“Well, for the legal side of things, the plan is giving you all of the information and evidence we have found and see what avenues you can find to legally sink her. However,” Karen drags her bottom lip through her teeth, “Some of the information we obtained...less legally? So you may not be able to use all of it in court if we get to that.” Matt scowled while Foggy raised an amused eyebrow at her.

“Ms. Page, we leave you to your own devices and suddenly you are an investigative reporter, PI and a hacker? I’m so impressed at how you keep gaining these valuable skills!” Foggy smiled teasingly at her while Karen shook her head at him, smiling herself.

“Don’t forget Counselor, she also has the ability to find trouble anywhere she goes and an incredible talent with sarcasm.” Frank spoke up, taking a bite of toast before smirking at Karen as she gaped at him.

Foggy let out a choking sound, sucking his cheeks in to hold in his laughter, “Man, he does know you Karen.” Matt was even smirking through his scowl.

“Shut up, all of you.” she grumbled but she couldn’t help but smirk, “ Anyway , that is the legal side of it. The less than legal side of it, we are going to go to Vanessa’s estate and I am going to talk to her about lifting the contract on my life.”

Matt tilted his head slightly, ‘When you say ‘we’...” his voice was the slightest bit strained with a hint of antagonism.

“Frank and I. You as well if you want to as long as you agree to go in as a team.” She did her best to ignore Matt’s tone. To his credit, Frank kept quiet and just sipped at his coffee but Karen could see everything he wanted to say, clear on his face.

“I really don’t think it’s necessary for Frank to be involved any longer. We don’t really need a murderer present to have a discussion with someone.” The antagonism was strong now.

Karen and Foggy simultaneously put their faces in their hands while Frank let out a scoff.

“Christ, you really are an alter boy all the way, huh?” Frank gave a cutting smile as he shook his head and then leaned forward to rest his forearms on the table, closer to Matt, “You can take your sanctimonious bullshit and shove it right up your ass, Red. They are after Karen, she’s the one that has done all the investigation, that means she gets to decide who is on her team. Not you. And if I have to choose between killing a shit bag and keeping Karen alive, you bet your ass I’ll take them out.”

“Yeah, well, she’s always had clouded judgement when it comes to you so maybe it shouldn’t be her call.” As soon as he finished speaking, Matt’s face scrunched up with regret. Foggy was looking at his friend, aghast, and Frank had sat back and was chuckling lowly. Karen was glaring so icily at Matt she was surprised he hadn’t started shivering.

Karen smacked Frank in the stomach with the back of her hand causing him to grunt and hunch over slightly before she leaned in towards Matt across from her. “I really hope I didn’t just hear you say that Matt because if we are going to talk about clouded judgement I can give you a whole list of shitty calls you have made.”

“Karen-”

“And for the record, this is why I didn’t come to you. Now, I’m going to be mature enough to pretend you didn’t just say that and get back to the plan. So you can keep your patronizing bullshit to yourself and just listen, got it?” Her voice brokered no argument and Matt, very smartly, just nodded.

Foggy looked between Frank, Matt and Karen before heaving a deep sigh, “Karen, not to agree too much with the idiot next to me but I don’t like the idea of being part of a plan where murder is an option.”

Frank clicked his tongue but didn’t say anything as Karen glared at him once more. “I know Foggy.” She paused to smile at the waitress as she dropped off Frank’s eggs and bacon and her own food of yogurt and fruit. She saw Frank eyeballing her plate but ignored him to respond to Foggy, “We have already discussed that. It looks like most of the personnel at her estate is a hired security company, not criminals so they won’t be killed.”

Matt gave a derisive snort that resulted in Foggy elbowing him sharply in the ribs before saying, “And what about the ones that are criminals?”

“As long as they don’t threaten Karen, I promise to be on my best behaviour Counselor.” Frank looked at her plate pointedly. “Is that all you got to eat?”

“Yeah, I’m not that hungry.” She murmured before she turned back to Foggy, “I’m going to do everything I can to ensure we talk to Vanessa with no casualties.” As she spoke, Karen saw Frank move two pieces of his bacon to her plate and bit her cheek to keep from smiling. When she turned her attention back to Foggy, he had been watching as well, there was a look of bewilderment on his face, like he couldn’t quite comprehend what he was seeing.

“Well, I guess that is all I can really ask at this point, I’m just glad you are back and safe. It is getting so boring at the office without you.” Foggy said.

Matt looked offended as Karen laughed, “Well, I hope to be back in the office by next week at the latest. I can only imagine what kind of disarray you left my desk in.”

They chatted over their food, mostly catching Karen up on things she’d had missed while she was gone, cases that had been completed, new cases on the docket and any ridiculous gossip that had been picked up at Josie’s. Matt jumped in every once in a while but he and Frank stayed silent for most of the meal after that.

Once the food was gone and everything had been discussed, they all stood to pay for their meals and go off in various directions to begin preparing for their respective parts of the plan. As she moved to the register, Karen felt Frank’s hand at the small of her back, a steady, reassuring weight as they waited for the person in front of them to finish up. She wondered if she would always be so aware of him, if every little touch would always feel so important and monumental. She hoped so.

Foggy took off first with a promise to dig into the files Karen planned on sending over as soon as he received them but first he had a coffee date with Marci that he couldn’t miss. With a tight hug for Karen and respectful nod to Frank he turned and made his way to the closest taxi.

Karen gave Matt a quick hug and promised to call later with an address and started to turn away but he grabbed her elbow before she got far. She could feel Frank tense behind her but he didn’t say anything. She looked expectantly at Matt.

“Karen, look, I-,” he sounded strained for a second and took a moment to collect his thoughts, “I’m sorry about earlier alright? I know you are capable of taking care of yourself and it was a real asshole thing for me to say.”

She raised her eyebrows, “Ya think?” She relented however, she knew it wasn’t an easy thing for Matt to be around Frank, especially since he could probably tell with his fancy superpowers that there was something going on between them. “I know, Matt, it’s okay. Just, try to have a little more faith in me, okay?”

Giving the hand he had on her arm a reassuring squeeze she attempted to leave again but Matt kept his grip firm. Oh for Chrissake, what now? She squared her shoulders, forcing him to drop his hand, and crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for him to say what was obviously on his mind.

“Why don’t you come stay with me or Foggy?” Karen started to protest but he pressed on, “You said you were staying in some warehouse, that can’t be comfortable. We can finalize everything at my place and you’ll still be safe.”

“No.”

Matt looked at a loss, like the only real option was going with him and the fact that she refused was beyond comprehension.

“Why?” he asked.

Karen chewed on her bottom lip as she studied him for a second. She had the urge to shake him which was not unusual with Matt Murdock but she settled for a quiet, “You know why, Matt.” before turning to walk back to where Frank was waiting. She didn’t have to look at Frank’s face to know he was looking smugly at Matt and rolled her eyes when he slung an arm over her shoulder as they walked away. I’m going to hurt them both.

She gave him a sweet smile and then promptly pinched his side, causing him to step away quickly with a quiet curse.

“What the hell was that for?” he asked, rubbing the spot. He tried to sound angry but she heard the underlying amusement in his tone.

“You know why, Frank.”

They spent the day going over details and making sure they didn’t miss anything important. Karen had forwarded her files over to Foggy and had answered a couple calls from him for her input on clarifying some finer points.

Karen was pulled from her hundredth time of scanning the folder she put together by Frank beckoning to her.

“Hey, come over here for a sec.” He waved her over with one hand while the other was digging around in a container that appeared to be full of tactical gear. Pushing away from her computer with a long stretch, she made her way over to where he stood and watched him pull out a couple of bulletproof vests.

She raised an eyebrow at him but he just shrugged and stepped in front of her with one of them. He strapped her in with ease and went over the garment critically, checking how it fit and laid on her frame and said, “I’ll occasionally acquire them after finishing a job. I wanted to see if any of these fit you or if I am going to need to find one before tomorrow night.”

Karen looked down at herself as he tugged and shifted the garment and said skeptically, “Is this really necessary?”

Frank stopped what he was doing, two fingers tucked into the vest at her chest and gaped at her disbelievingly.

“Alright, alright it was just a question.” She gave a small laugh and let him maneuver her around to take the vest off.

He apparently wasn’t satisfied with the fit of that one because he tossed it back into the container before grabbing another and starting the process again. “To answer that question, you wouldn’t be going into that place without one. Maybe the guys working there aren’t criminals but they are there to do a job. If they see us as a threat, which I’m betting they will, they will probably take some shots so you need to have protection.”

He focused fully on the task at hand and seemed more pleased with the fit of this vest but she could see the worry creeping into his eyes, no doubt imagining all of the scenarios in which the plan could go wrong. Karen caught his hand checking the straps at her side and held it between hers, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles.

“It’s going to be fine. We are just going there to talk, it’s not like we are facing down a psycho with a bomb or escaping through elevator shafts or anything.” Her gallows humor had the desired effect for a second, his lips quirking a bit at the corners.

It faded quickly though, his eyes going serious and grim, his voice solemn, “I know how quickly things can go wrong, normal one second and batshit crazy the next. People there with you one second and then gone the next.”

Karen’s heart gave a painful lurch and she felt her eyes start to prickle so she stepped into him quickly, wrapping her arms tightly around him. Thinking of everything Frank had lost always made her weepy and she didn’t want him to have to deal with her tears when he was the one who should be upset. She felt his arms settle around her shoulders and his head rested against hers and for a moment they just swayed together gently.

After a moment though, Frank stepped back, placed a soft kiss to her forehead and began to pull off the vest.

“This one fits pretty well, I think it will work well for tomorrow.” He placed it next to his, the emblazoned skull stark against the black material, which lay atop his selected arsenal for tomorrow. “Have you heard from the counselor? Got anything he can use?”

Karen sighed, “Yeah, there are a few things he would be able to use against her, some illegal trading and some potentially forfeit art but nothing as serious as I would like but it may be enough. At least to get them off my case.”

Frank nodded and she saw him thinking about his next question. Here we go. And she wasn’t disappointed.

“Have you heard from Murdock?”

“No”

“Have you contacted Murdock?”

“ No .” she answered a bit more curtly.

Frank held up a placating hand, “If he is going to be part of the plan, he needs to know where we are going.”

He was right of course but she was still a little annoyed at both of them. “I’ll text him the address and where we intend to meet. You sure you two are okay to work together? You seem like you would rather glare and bitch at each other.”

Frank scoffed, “Red’s a pain in the ass but he isn’t a bad ally to have on your side. If he could just stop being so preachy, we would get along just fine.”

Karen shook her head with a small smile, “You’re not wrong, I suppose. On the flip side, I’m sure he thinks if you were less murdery you’d get along just fine.”

He gave her a wry grin, “I guess neither one of us are going to get what we want, huh?”

She couldn’t help but laugh, walking away from him to go back to her task, “No, I guess not.”

-----

Frank watched Karen go back to her desk to pour over everything again. Nothing will have changed since the last time she looked but he knew it was a good distraction for her. In the meantime he needed to make sure he had all the gear he needed and was ready himself. He still didn’t like the idea that not only was Karen going into the den of the enemy but he had to also attempt to get her in and out without any fatalities. As much as Murdock annoyed him, Frank was glad he would be there as well, it would allow him to focus more fully on Karen’s safety.

Sitting across the room, Frank began running through his mental checklist, he wanted to have time to hunt down any needed supplies before go-time. This was a top priority mission with very precious cargo and he was not going to fuck it up. Every mission or war he had waged over the past several months was nowhere near as important as the one he was preparing for, failure was not an option.

He’d need to pick up some more ammo for his .45, realistically he probably had enough but he’d rather be over prepared. Frank glanced up when he heard a thoughtful noise from Karen, a detail catching her attention. He watched as she buried long graceful fingers into the pale spun gold of her hair with one hand, while the other skimmed the document, occasionally tapping out a rhythm on the table. For a second he was transported to the previous night, those long locks sliding between his fingers while she was on her knees in front of him. Her teeth pulled at her bottom lip as she worked and Frank couldn’t help but watch the slide of her tongue when she wet her lips.

When he realized he was outright staring at her he shook his head and went back to the task at hand. For God’s sake he was acting like a horny, head over heels teenager. First that little dominance stunt he pulled with Murdock, huffing out a laugh he rubbed the spot Karen had pinched him, and now he was ogling her while she worked. It was amazing how fast the switch was flipped in his mind of him thinking of Karen as his. He really needed to get a grip. Frank still wasn’t sure he made the right call, agreeing to give a relationship a shot. He was still dangerous to be around and the thought of him bringing even more danger to Karen’s life made him nauseous. The thing was, it was obvious that Karen would be in trouble at some point whether he was there or not and the thought of him not being there to help her also made him nauseous.

Maybe it was a bad idea….but god he wanted it. He could pretend he was alright with the solitude and all the nights alone but that delusion was quickly fading. The past couple of weeks, waking up with someone in bed next to him again, was like a breath of fresh air he didn’t know he needed. Like an ache in his joints he wasn’t aware of until they were gone. Even cramped on the little cot with Karen who was just as tall as him and threw a mean elbow in her sleep, was the most comfortable he had been...well, since Maria. The feeling of waking up to Karen’s softness and warmth, her smile and morning quips, was like a drug and the mere thought of going back to the way things were had him feeling like he was going through withdrawals.

It didn’t really do any good to debate it with himself at this point, he had told Karen he would give it a shot and wouldn’t lie to her. So they would take care of the issue at hand and then he would man up and keep his word. However, if it looked like he was bringing too much danger into her life, he was gone, no questions asked. Well, probably anyway. He had a feeling Karen Page was becoming a major guiding force in his life and he may not have a choice on if he goes or stays.

Shaking his head, Frank ran through the remainder of his list and decided to grab some more ammo for Karen’s .380 while he was at it. He set everything back in place and stood, rolling his shoulders back to work out the knots and headed over to grab a jacket and pull on his boots. When he stood from lacing them up he noticed Karen was watching him.

“I’m going to go pick up some ammo and dinner. Anything sound good to you?”

She hummed, eyeing him with a hunger that had nothing to do with food and he felt desire hit him hard in the gut. Before he could begin to make his way across the room though, she gave him a coy smile, her voice mischievous, “Japanese sounds good. Some sushi? Maybe Katsudon if they have it, yakisoba if they don’t?”

Raising an eyebrow at her, he turned to pull the jacket on. “Japanese it is. I’ll be back soon, I’ll text you before I come in so you know it’s me. Keep an eye on the cameras and call me if anything looks out of the ordinary.” She nodded along as he spoke, turning back to her work but he said her name softly, it brought her attention back to him quickly. Frank gave a little smirk, “Stop being a stubborn ass and text Murdock the information.”

He stepped around the closest object to dodge the pencil that had been lobbed at him and made his way to the exit. He didn’t care one way or the other if Murdock actually accompanied them, it would be helpful sure, but they would be fine without him. However, he knew it was important to Karen to keep her friends in the loop, a pact they had made she didn’t want to break.

The air was chilly when he stepped out into the dusk, heading in the direction of the subway, he needed to go a ways to get to the shop he was wanting. He walked quickly, eyeing his surroundings casually and jumping on the train just before the doors closed. It took about 15 minutes to get to his stop and he emerged onto the street about another 10 minutes walk from his destination.

Frank was nearly there when he felt the prickle on the back of his neck so he stepped into the next alleyway and kept his hand ready to reach for the gun at his hip. However, only one person he knows could land that softly out of nowhere so he wasn’t surprised when he turned to see Murdock frowning at him from behind his mask.

“Evening, Red.”

Murdock gave a small nod and a quiet, “Frank.” Before resuming his pensive silence.

Frank waited another minute before shifting impatiently, “Did ya have somethin’ you wanted to say or….? I kinda have some errands to run and a hungry private investigator waiting for me. I have a fair idea of how grumpy she can be when hungry and would like to avoid that if I can.”

Matt’s face turned a bit more sour, his stance stiffening even more. “She shouldn’t be there. She should be somewhere safe. Somewhere away from you.”

Letting out a long suffering sigh, Frank tucked his hands deep into his pockets and balled them into fists. “You’re not entirely wrong Red but the fact of the matter is that is where she decided to be and you of all people should know that telling her to do something else would not go well.”

The other man gave a begrudging nod but didn’t look put at ease. When he spoke again he had his lawyer facade on, trying to dig for information, “What exactly is your relationship with Karen?”

Frank went still, his eyes narrowing at the other man and said nothing. It wasn’t any of Murdock’s business and Frank was pretty sure he knew already.

“I could smell you on her, at the diner.” His voice was accusatory.

“Well that is officially the weirdest thing you’ve ever said to me, Red. Also the creepiest.” A very immature, alpha male part of his brain swelled with pride at the knowledge that there was no mistaking that Karen had chosen to be with him. He nearly chuckled when he thought of how quickly she would put him in his place if she knew he was thinking like that. “What does it matter to you anyway?”

“You know why it matters Frank. You are still killing, making enemies and starting wars. Karen deserves better than that. Better than you.”

“You’re not wrong there either.” Frank closed the distance between them, bringing them toe to toe, his voice dropped low, a mix of building anger and antagonism, “Is that the only reason, Murdock? I remember seeing you two back then, holding hands, standing close. How she watched you with so much admiration in the courtroom, when you showed up, that is. Now, she doesn’t want to stay with you, despite being in danger. So is it really that you want to protect Karen or is it that your ego can’t take the fact that you royally fucked up and lost a beautiful, intelligent, brave and loyal woman? To a murderer no less. ”

Matt snarled muscles tensing as though preparing for a fight but Frank’s phone chimed alerting him to a message. His adrenaline spiked, brain always going to the worst case scenario first and Matt must have picked up on it because he took half a step back. Pulling the phone out of his pocket, Frank relaxed when he read the message.

“Shrimp Shumai as well, please. Don’t forget chopsticks, I don’t trust the silverware you have here not to give me tetanus.”

Frank shook his head with a smirk, tapping back a quick ‘Yes, Ma’am’, before tucking the phone in his pocket again. Matt’s head was tilted to listen and his features had relaxed from anger and disgust to mild annoyance and disbelief.

“I don’t deserve her, Murdock, you’re right about that. The problem is, I’ve pushed her away time and time again and we just keep endin’ up back in each other’s space. I’ll never argue with you that Karen Page is too good for me but she asked me to give this a chance and goddamn it, I owe it to her to try. I know I’m one lucky motherfucker that she chose me of all people, you don’t have to tell me.”

Matt looked downright defeated, “You love her.” It wasn’t a question.

Clicking his tongue and stepping around the other man, Frank walked back towards the main sidewalk, “I ain’t even talked to her about that Red so I’ll be damned if I talk to you about it. Check your phone, she should be sending you the information for tomorrow night.” With that, he stepped around the corner and walked the remaining few blocks to the gun store. He did love Karen, but now he was wondering if love encompassed everything he felt for her. Frank was starting to feel complete in a way he hadn’t since he still had his family. That large piece of his life would always be missing, god he missed them every second of every day, but Karen was becoming the glue that held the rest of his pieces together. His air when he was suffocating. The stones in his foundation when it started to crumble. Love was only a part of the things he felt for Karen Page.

It was another hour and a half before he had the ammo and food in hand, heading back to the safe house. He texted Karen to alert her that he would be there soon and when he stepped through the door and into the living area of the building, she was right where he had left her.

“Welcome back, took you long enough.” She barely turned from the papers but he saw the teasing lilt to her lips anyway.

“The lady wanted shrimp shumai, the only place to get shumai in this city is Mei’s so I had to go a little out of my way to get it.” Frank set the food down at the table and plucked the container with the shumai out of the bag. He walked over to Karen, popping the lid open to waft the delicious smelling steam in her direction, enticing her to leave the desk.

Karen let out an appreciative groan at the smell, pushing her chair back and following closely behind him. She settled down at the table and pointed at him accusingly with the chopsticks Frank handed her, “I know of at least three places to get shumai and I know at least one of them was pretty close to where you were going.”

“Yes but the only place you should get shumai from is Mei’s.” His voice was deep with conviction when he pointed his chopsticks right back at her.

Karen barked out a quick laugh, “Unbelievable, a burger snob, a coffee snob AND a Japanese cuisine snob. The surprises keep coming.” However, when she took a bite of the first morsel, her eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head with pleasure. She snapped her eyes to his quickly to see if he caught her, which of course he did, with a knowing, smug smirk. “Alright, you win this one Castle.”

Frank thought about mentioning the fact he ran into Murdock but she would want to know what they discussed and he wasn’t sure he was ready to go down the rabbit hole just yet. So instead they talked about their favorite places for asian food and occasionally discussed details of tomorrow’s mission. Thankfully she mentioned she had texted the information to Murdock so he didn’t have to bring it up again.

Once they were full and leftovers were packed away in the small fridge, it was time to call David and ensure that everything on his end was set as well. The phone rang a couple of times before he answered.

“ Hello friends! Ready to talk super spy stuff and breaking and entering?” His voice was cheerful and already grating on Frank’s nerves.

“Cut the shit, David. You got everything you need?”

“ I want to talk to Karen. She’s nicer than you.” There was an unmistakable pout in his voice.

“David…” Frank growled. Karen hid a laugh behind her hand. He gave her a pleading ‘don’t encourage him’ look and turned his attention back to the phone.

“... And prettier. Fine. Yes, everything is in order. I’ll walk you through setting up the comm pieces tonight so all you have to do tomorrow is turn them on and double check the frequency. There haven’t been any changes to the personnel schedule and the layout of the house hasn’t changed over the past two days.”

Over the next hour they activated and synced up their comms, checking for any bugs, and outlined the time frame they hoped to maintain for getting in and out.

“ Hey, uh, I noticed you only requested the two ear pieces, was there a change of plan? Daredevil no longer assisting?”

“No change of plan. He won’t need an earpiece, he will be able to hear just fine.” Karen’s voice was one of begrudging acceptance.

“ Okay then, well, then I think we’ve done everything we can for today. I’ll be in touch tomorrow at 10. Now, I need to go to dinner or I have the real potential of sleeping on the couch tonight.”

Without preamble, the line went dead, the screen of the phone flashing the call time for just a moment before going dark.

Karen gave a little snort, “What an interesting change of events, usually it’s you hanging up on him.”

“I guess the prospect of sleeping on the couch is more motivating than getting on my damn nerves.” Frank said gruffly as he put the phone on charge next to the comm equipment. When he looked back at Karen, she had an unreadable look on her face.

“What?” he asked.

“If he bothers you that much, why do you keep in touch? I know he is an incredible hacker but you are crafty and would be able to figure something else out.” Karen asked, leaning on the table and regarding him curiously.

Frank gave a deep sigh. David did endlessly wear on his nerves but he cared for the man and his family. “David just...doesn’t know when to shut up. That being said, he’s a good guy. He’s reliable and a good person.” When he looked over there was a smug look on Karen’s face and he felt like he just walked into a trap.

“So...you care about him? Behind all the mean words and mask of indifference he’s your friend.” She looked so proud of herself, blue eyes sparkling and her head tilted as she watched him.

Frank shook his head turning away from her, “ Christ . You're just as bad as he is. I’m takin’ a shower.” He could feel her eyes following him as he grabbed a change of clothes and disappeared into the bathroom. She wasn’t wrong, he did care about David and his family. Very much in fact, but he wasn’t going to admit it out loud. It could make it back to David and Frank would never have peace again.

The hot water was doing wonders for his knotted muscles. Preparing for tomorrow had left him anxious and processing his feelings for Karen furthered that anxiety because he knew how easy it was for things to go wrong. He could lose her tomorrow and it had him on edge all day. It would be his luck that he would finally accept what he feels for Karen, just for it to be taken away immediately. If it were just him going in he would be unaffected, if he got injured or killed it will have been worth it to keep her safe. But Karen was going to be with him, just as close to danger as he would be.

The shifty plumbing gave a groan and sputtered a quick deluge of ice water over him before going back to hot so he finished washing off quickly before he got another rude surprise.

He found as he stepped out of the shower he was more tired than he thought, his muscles finally loosened a bit so he didn’t feel quite so much like a spring that was wound too tight. However, as he tossed his towel over the curtain rod of the shower, Frank gave a quiet curse as his brain started sprinting down the same roads it had been running all day. Just that quick he felt his shoulders drawing back up towards his ears, muscles coiling and ready to fight. Christ he couldn’t wait for this to be over so he could be the normal amount of anxious over Karen’s well being. Throwing on some boxer briefs and low slung sweatpants he made to leave the cramped room.

A small cloud of steam followed him out of the bathroom before Frank started toward the cot. Karen was already laid down with one of his books open in her hand as she sprawled over their makeshift bed. Suddenly, Frank felt like he had been hit in the chest with a sledgehammer and his coiled muscles were prepared for an entirely new action.

Karen had grabbed one of his shirts to wear to bed, something that would have been enough to turn him on in general but due to their similar height the shirt just barely brushed the tops of her thighs. Frank’s gaze traveled from the tips of her toes up her impossibly long legs and fixated on the spot where the shirt had ridden up, exposing a hip bone where the thin black strap of her underwear contrasted exquisitely with her creamy skin. He could just glimpse the curve of her perfectly shaped ass the way she was laying but it was enough to spark something in him. Frank was suddenly a man starved. Hyperfocus that he tends to save for the battlefield is now fixated on the woman just across the room from him to the point everything else blurs and she is the only thing in focus.

Karen must feel his gaze on her because she lowers the book a fraction to meet his eyes. He sees her breath catch and her eyes widen when their gazes lock. Carefully she sets the book aside, her eyes leaving his to slowly drag down his body. Frank felt his temperature spike when he watched her hungrily take him in, her pupils blowing wide and her bottom lip unconsciously pulling between her teeth. It amazed him how expressive Karen was with just that bottom lip.

“I, um, ran out of comfortable sleeping clothes so I borrowed one of your shirts. I hope that is okay?” Her voice was small, uncertain. If Frank were more stable at the moment, he would feel guilty that she would feel so unsure about taking what she needed from him. Of course he didn’t mind, in fact, he would encourage it any chance he got.

When he didn’t answer, Karen looked even more unsure, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have presumed. I can grab one of my old-” She began to wrap long fingers around the hem as though she were going to pull the shirt off.

“Don’t. Move.” The words came out commanding, a simmering heat in his voice that was deep and full of gravel, his desire filling the words with a thousand promises. Karen froze at the order and when she drew that damned bottom lip between her teeth again and he saw the full body shiver of her reacting to him, Frank couldn’t stop himself from crossing the room. He moved steadily, long, methodical strides that had him at the foot of the cot quickly.

From this new vantage point he could see the pretty blush starting across her cheeks and down her neck to disappear under the shirt at her collarbone. She was perfection. Slowly, he placed a knee on the bottom corner of the bed, Karen watching his every move with rapt attention.

Another full body shiver ran through her when he caressed her ankles with hands he could no longer keep idle. There was a growl that he belatedly realized came from him before he was bent over, dragging teeth over the exposed flesh of her hip, the breathy noise Karen released spurring his actions. Frank’s hands slid up the smooth backs of her thighs that now bracketed his chest until he had two glorious handfuls of her ass.

“ Frank.” Fuck, the way she said his name. She had a way of putting everything into those five letters, all breathy want and desire. He was so hard it almost hurt, the need to be inside her so strong Frank was almost delirious from it. He snapped his eyes up to hers from his spot at her hip, where he continued to drag his tongue along her skin, nipping and sucking at her where he saw fit. He followed her panty line, nudging the shirt out of the way as he went. Karen’s eyes never left his but the air caught in her chest when his hands slid around to grip her underwear as he continued to cover her skin with pink marks.

He could smell her and god, she smelled sweet. Frank let out a small sound of need and began tugging away the barrier between them. He had reached her other hipbone, nipping the soft skin there before sitting back to fully remove her underwear and then she was gloriously bare to him, only his shirt bunched up around her midsection. He took a moment to take her in, lips glistening with arousal and a blush spreading over her inner thighs. It was his turn to pull his bottom lip through his teeth, taking a moment to decide where he wanted to start. Leaning down again, Frank tucked his arms under Karen’s thighs, wrapping them around the outside so his hands were at her hips to get a good grip and tugged her roughly to the edge of the cot.

She let out a little yelp in surprise and when Frank looked at her again, the shirt had rucked up around her chest when he scooted her down. Her graceful arms were above her head where they had settled after her startled movement. She was a fucking sight. Frank knelt on the cold concrete floor and settled her legs over his shoulders, moving slowly and deliberately, his entire focus on devouring the woman in front of him.

Giving an appreciative groan, Frank leaned in, dragging a kiss over Karen’s inner thigh before switching to the other leg. Next, he ran his tongue up the crease of her leg, mere centimeters from his destination. Karen’s hips were beginning to sway towards his mouth, rising and falling with each tempting swipe of his mischievous tongue.

As he was laving a slow kiss to the top of her mound Karen gave a quiet curse causing Frank to glance up at her with a devastating smirk.

“Something wrong Ma’am?” his voice was impossibly deep and rough.

She reacted like his voice was a physical touch, closing her eyes and shivering before she looked at him again, the blue of her irises dark with her need, voice husky with restrained desire. “If you don’t touch me soon Frank I’m going to lose my goddamn mind.”

His answering chuckle was rich and dark and it vibrated through every spot their bodies were connected. What Karen didn’t know was he was torturing himself as much as he was her, every fiber of his being screaming to do more, to drive her crazy, make her scream for him. Frank finally relented, giving a slow languid lick to her center, just barely parting her folds. Both let out a groan and before Frank could convince himself to keep the pace slow, he was drinking her in like he’d not had water in years.

There was longer any finesse to his movements, lewd noises filling the room as he licked and sucked at her, letting out appreciative growls and grunts as she moved under him. Fuck she tasted good, her breathless moans and little curses, her beautiful lips saying his name when he pressed just right, all driving him mad with need. When Frank opened his eyes he let out a long low groan at the sight. Karen was gripping the blankets above her head with one hand so tight her knuckles were white, her eyes screwed shut while her mouth was open and panting. Her other hand had pushed the shirt over her breasts and was tweaking a nipple in time with the firm strokes of his tongue.

It was all too much, he needed to be in her, and soon. Never taking his eyes off of her, Frank closed his full lips over her clit and gave it a hard suck. Karen’s back arched off the cot prettily and her breathing stalled. Lifting her hips slightly he did again before quickly dragging a firm tongue over repeatedly. It only took two more strokes before she went completely rigid, a keening moan the only sound she was able to make.

Frank softened his ministrations, licking at her softly until her hand snaked into his hair to tug him away gently. He pulled just enough to nip her thigh before he rested his cheek there and looked up at her. She was gloriously disheveled, chest still rising rapidly with each breath, lips parted and eyes glassy and distant as she came down from her high.

Slowly, Karen came back to herself and she gave him a devastating little smile, her voice throaty and sated, though he saw the hunger building in her gaze again, “Goddamn, Castle. You’ve been hiding your finer skill sets from me.”

He gave a quiet laugh, trying to not let his pride show too much on his face, “Happy to be of service, ma’am.”

Slowly he stood, tugging at the drawstring of his sweatpants as he did, Karen watching the movement with intense focus. Frank slid pants and underwear off in a smooth movement before he started to crawl after Karen as she scooted back up the cot. Working together, his shirt was peeled up and over her head to be discarded somewhere on the floor.T hey didn’t have much room on the small bed but neither seemed to mind as he settled between her thighs and their lips met. The kiss was slow and dragging, tongues sliding together deliciously and little gasps escaping when they drew back long enough to change their angles.

Frank’s arm had traveled up to bury a large hand in her hair, something he found was quickly becoming one of his favorite things to do, his forearm bracing the side of her face as he continued to ravage her mouth. Slowly, he began to grind his cock against her core, dragging it through her folds torturously. Her hips met him at every thrust and finally, finally , he let himself sink into her.

All he could do for a moment was rest his forehead to hers, his hips stilling when he sank to the hilt, tightening his grip in her hair when she groaned and nipped at his chin. Being inside Karen was intoxicating and Frank was dizzy with pleasure that coursed through his system. He was so fucking lost on her, there was no way he could ever recover.

Frank leaned his head back enough to watch her eyes as he slowly pulled almost completely out of her before unhurriedly sliding back into place. Her gaze never left his, though her eyes were hooded, and he saw raw emotion staring back at him. For a moment it was overwhelming so Frank focused on the leisurely push and pull of his hips, his chest tight with everything he felt. They continued like that for several moments, quiet gasps and moans punctuating the easy rhythm that Frank set. Occasionally he would break eye contact to lick and suck at her neck, Karen dragging her hands up his back to hook over his shoulders, nipping at whatever skin was presented to her, a bicep, shoulder, the underside of his jaw. He could feel her starting to tense under him, her body straining towards release. He was working steadily towards his own orgasm, the burning pleasure spreading down his spine.

When Frank pulled back to look her in the eyes again the breath stilled in his chest. There was a trail of silent tears seeping from Karen’s eyes as she looked back at him. The hand in her hair dropped to her cheek to swipe the tears away tenderly. He hated to see her cry but it made him feel better to know she was feeling just as intensely as he was and when he spoke his voice was wrecked with the struggle to keep his own emotions in check, “What do you need?”

“Just...” she let out a shuddering breath and brought her hands to the back of his head, sliding blunt nails over his scalp, “Just don’t let go.”

A hungry desperate noise escaped from the back of his throat before he descended on her mouth. The kiss was slow but frantic, a desperation filling both of them. The hand on Karen’s cheek dropped to the side of her neck and the arm that propped him over her buried fingers into her silken hair. Frank’s thrusts sped up but they were still deliberate, grinding into her at the end of each stroke. That’s how they both came apart, her hands at the back of his head and neck, him not far behind with his own hands buried in her hair. Both of them holding on with both hands. Karen came, gasping his name in between quiet sobs and Frank came with a shuddering moan, pressing her name and kisses into the delicate skin of her temple.

For a moment they both were still, Frank was trying desperately to recover his composure and he felt Karen trying to do the same. When he did lean back again, swiping a gentle hand over her forehead to move damp hair out of her face she gave him a watery smile and he couldn’t help but return it.

Sniffing quietly, her smile turned sheepish, “I promise I’m not usually a crier during sex. I uh...just got a little overwhelmed, I think.”

Frank huffed out a little laugh, stroking a thumb over her cheekbone but before he could think of something to say, her hand came up to rest on his cheek, her eyes on him with a singular focus that wouldn’t allow him to look away.

“I love you, Frank Castle.” Karen’s voice was quiet and sincere, her eyes were watery once again but her gaze dared him to refute her.

Frank felt everything around him spin and then go completely still all at once before he drew in a quick breath and suddenly his chest was light, like a band that had been wrapped there just snapped. He was still terrified at the prospect of being loved, of loving again but looking at her, daring him to deny her, he felt like it might be worth it.

“I love you too, Karen Page.” Rough and low, the words felt so natural he wasn’t sure how he hadn’t said them before.

Just like that, the bravado left her and tears were escaping the corners of Karen’s eyes again, a smile so sweet on her lips he ached just looking at her. He leaned down to give her a tender kiss, her lips trembling lightly under his. Tsking, Frank rolled gently to the side, pulling her into his chest, banding protective arms around her, “You keep crying like that, Page, and you’re going to give me a complex.”

She gave a little laugh, thick with tears and swiped at her cheeks, “Sorry, Frank, I’ll try to keep the tears to a minimum next time. Promise.”

Humming, he placed a gentle kiss to her forehead.They lay quietly like that for awhile, both awake and lost in their own thoughts. Karen was running absent minded fingers over the smooth planes of his chest while his thumb ran soothing circles over her shoulder. Eventually he felt her relaxing against him, her breathing turning deep and even. Frank could feel his own eyes falling shut, heavy as lead as he listened to her breathe. He wanted to think a bit more, run the plan through his head again before giving in to sleep, think about the monumental words Karen and he had just spoken to one another but before he could try he was snoring quietly against her forehead and neither of them moved until morning.

#kastle #frank castle #Karen Page #frank castle and karen page #fanfic #foggy nelson #matt murdock #emotional sex #shrimp shumai #the real star of this chapter

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buckybarnesbingo · 4 years

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As part of our Discord party, we took song recs! Here are some excellent, Bucky-flavored tunes!

My Body Is a Cage - Arcade Fire (@blurockets)

Control - Halsey (@writing-mermaid)

Summer Rain - Belinda Carlisle (@fightingforcreativity)

This song just screams Bucky's story before the whole hydra thing to me. he was happy, struggling with life but happy with his friend/love had plenty fun and survived. Then he is send out and he's still saying he'll be back but he doesn’t want to go. and he never came back in the end. Because the person coming back after is not Bucky from before anymore.

Behind Blue Eyes - The Who (@polizwrites)

Take Me Home - Ryan Dolan (LiquidLightz)

We Three (My Echo My Shadow And Me) - The Inkspots (@blurockets)

An Oldie that you could go into thoughts of identity and how there are sort of three facets to Bucky. The Echo prewar and maybe during war, my shadow ws and Me and it's also just pretty.

In Chains - Shaman's Harvest (@menatiera)

Whole Again - Granian (@27dragons)

This song is about recovering from trauma (and the pressure that well-meaning friends can put on you to recover faster without really helping, or maybe that's just my interpretation).

More under the cut!

In Case You Don't Live Forever - Ben Platt (@aoifelaufeyson)

The Becoming - Nine Inch Nails (@blurockets)

It's part of the Downward Spiral and that whole Nine Inch Nails is a concept album following a guy that falls into a spiral of drugs and things that culminate into a breakdown and well death

Stand By You - Rachel Platten (@writing-mermaid)

Losing Your Memory - Ryan Star (@rebelmeg)

The whole song has strong post-Cap2 vibes. But there’s one particular part that talks about Montauk in the winter, that makes me think of freshly un-Hydra’d Bucky visiting one of the beaches in NY that he remembers being at with Steve when they were kids, struggling to catch more wisps of memory while he stands there on the shore.

New York - Snow Patrol (LiquidLightz)

Stucky feels... Bucky thinking of Steve

Older - Ben Platt (@aoifelaufeyson)

We'll Meet Again - Vera Lynn (@rebelmeg)

Another one with Bucky remembering, haunted by a song he knows he’s heard before, and all kinds of faces and voices in his mind that he can’t quite place.

I Am Machine - Three Days Grace (@pherryt)

Kill Our Way To Heaven - Michl (@tisfan)

Nightmare - Set It Off (@menatiera)

This another Bucky & Winter, just the angsty version where Bucky is terrified of his "monster" self and would very much like to run away from it but can't

Demons - Imagine Dragons (LiquidLightz)

Through The Long Night - Billy Joel (@polizwrites)

This has major Stucky feels for me

Lost n Paradise - Evanescence (@lbibliophile-mcu)

I Know Places - Taylor Swift (@writing-mermaid)

Clearly it's about people trying to runaway from people that are chasing them. I started to write a story inspired by that song

Bad Guy - Billie Eilish (@aoifelaufeyson)

Hey You - Pink Floyd (@blurockets)

Imagine like a weird hallucinatory sequence that ends with Bucky being thrown into cryo

Bee Gees - Stayin' Alive (@phoenixgryphon)

well you can tell by the way I use my walk i'm a hydra man no time to talk

Breathe Me In - Jared and the Mill (@pherryt)

Wish You Were Here - Pink Floyd (@polizwrites)

Pink Floyd song that gives me Bucky/Stucky feels

Cat People - David Bowie (@phoenixgryphon)

See these tears so blue / An ageless heart that can never mend / These tears can never dry / A judgment made can never bend / See these eyes so red / Red like jungle burning bright / Those who feel me near / Pull the blinds and change their minds

In the Mood - Glenn Miller (@phoenixgryphon)

The Sun Will Rise - Kelly Clarkson (@writing-mermaid)

She's my favorite singer and I wrote a story based on that song, I think this is a pretty optimist song that shows that even if something bad happened, the next day can be brighter and the light will chase the darkness.

Talk Dirty To Me - Jason Derulo ft. 2 Chainz (@aoifelaufeyson)

Coming Back to You - Jennifer Warnes via Leonard Cohen (@polizwrites)

My first Stucky fic (Another Mile of Silence) was based on this song

Slip - Elliot Moss (@blurockets)

The Unforgiven - Blakwall (@psychiccatpanda)

Bucky Nat where they are so close to something good but because of the nature of their wonky memories it doesn't quite happen.

A Monster Like Me - Mørland & Debrah Scarlett (@writing-mermaid)

Another song that inspired me for a story. It's about someone that made horrible things when he was younger, telling his love one to go away because he's a monster.

Coney Island - Antje Duvekot (LiquidLightz)

preWar Bucky, Stucky feels

Dancing Queen - Abba (@phoenixgryphon)

Sleeping Sickness - City and Colour (@blurockets)

Post WS Stucky Especially with that movies theme of things breaking down.

I've become / A simple souvenir of someone's kill / And like the sea / I'm constantly changing from calm to ill / Madness fills my heart and soul as if the great divide could swallow me whole / oh how I'm breaking down

Song of Bernadette - Leonard Cohen, cover by Jennifer Warnes (@polizwrites)

a WinterIron song for me — tho I ended up using a line from it for a Tony/Bruce fic.

Sugar, Sugar - The Archies (@phoenixgryphon)

Believer - Imagine Dragons (LiquidLightz)

recovering WS Bucky

Dark Side - Kelly Clarkson (@writing-mermaid)

When We Were Young - Adele (LiquidLightz)

Bucky recovering , Stucky feels

Next To Me - Imagine Dragons (@writing-mermaid)

Nightmare - Set It Off (@menatiera)

This another Bucky & Winter, just the angsty version where Bucky is terrified of his "monster" self and would very much like to run away from it but can't

The Phoenix - Fall Out Boy (LiquidLightz)

angry anti-Hydra WS Bucky

Animal - The Cab (LiquidLightz)

sexy WS

Dyin' Ain't So Bad - Bonnie and Clyde (Original Broadway Cast Recording) (@book-dragon-13)

Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy - The Andrews Sisters (@rebelmeg)

This one just screams Bucky! Especially the part about the Cap going out and grabbing him a band!

Behind Blue Eyes - L'Orchestra Cinematique (@menatiera)

Firework - Katy Perry (@phoenixgryphon)

Ghost Story - Charming Disaster (@blurockets)

stucky imagine an iw war au where after the snap everyone snapped is a dimension off only the slightest bit so it feels like people in a shares space are haunting each other

Lone Digger - Caravan Palace (@ibelieveinturtles)

Shadow on the Wall - Mike Oldfield (@fightingforcreativity)

for over 70 years Bucky has been nothing but a weapon, a toy, a shadow of himself. something like that leaves traces and that sometimes you don't feel like much of anything anymore. So when he starts to remember, starts to have flashes of what he did and he has this one person standing up for him, tearing the world apart for him, he tethers himself to them like their shadow on the wall. Building his own prison, the prison which follows the person helping him whoever that is

A Bad Dream - Keane (@menatiera)

Secret - Heart (@fightingforcreativity)

this is a winteriron or pre war stucky song for me. Because Bucky no matter which pairing I look at in that situation feels like they can't be out. stucky: because of the homophobia back then

WinterIron: because they're supposed to be enemies sort of and Tony and Steve are standing at two different sides of the line, the line to which end Bucky had sworn to follow steve

Deliverance - The Mission U.K. (@ibelieveinturtles)

Most of what I have for Bucky is specific to fics I'm writing but I think this is a good one too

Red - Nightcore male version, original from Beth Crowley (@menatiera)

this is my post-WS angry Bucky to-go song

All Along The Watchtower, Bear McCreary (Battlestar Galactica version) (@ibelieveinturtles)

this one is from a dragon!Bucky fic I'm determined to finish one day...

Bring Me To Life - Evanescence (@psychiccatpanda and @lbibliophile-mcu)

Holding Out For A Hero - Bonnie Tyler (@ibelieveinturtles)

Hollow - Icon For Hire (@fightingforcreativity)

This is kinda self-explanatory considering that the song is about mental health

Not alone - RED (@menatiera)

this is kind of the song I often base my Bucky & Winter relationship to each other, how they worked through hell to keep each other alive and how they relied on each other. Mostly this is Bucky reassuring Winter and keeping him, well, human, by being there for him in his head.

Whisper - Evanescence @lbibliophile-mcu

Memories - Within Temptation (@fightingforcreativity)

A song about memories, keeping ghosts alive and yet not really

On Every Street - Dire Straits (@dreaminglypeach)

More Steve looking for Bucky post WS, but still.

three cord symphony crashes into space / the moon is hanging upside down / don’t know why it is I’m still on the case / it’s a ravenous town / you still refuse to be traced / seems to me such a waste / and every victory has a taste that’s bittersweet / and it’s your face I’m looking for on every street

Chlorine - Twenty One Pilots (@aoifelaufeyson)

It’s My Life - Bon Jovi (LiquidLightz)

#buckybarnesbingo2020 #bbb2020 #discord party #playlist #music recs #bbb playlist #songs

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packsbeforesnacks · 4 years

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Talk Too Much || Blanche & Winn

TIMING: Saturday, May 30th, 2020, Late Night LOCATION: Dell’s Tavern PARTIES: @harlowhaunted & @packsbeforesnacks SUMMARY: Winn comes clean. Blanche wants to drink. WARNINGS: Extremely brief mention of assisted-suicide-by-hunter.

Blanche was still irritated with the whole Winn situation, but if she were being truly honest with herself, she just didn’t have enough energy to be truly angry. No one had died, and at the end of the day, none of it mattered. It was a string of unfortunate events that were, for the most part, corrected by Winn coming back. If anything, the bigger headache was going to be with Ariana and Noah and any of his other possible-wolf friends that he left behind and not with her. She pulled into Dell’s parking lot, parked her Jeep and asked for a booth to settle in. Winn wanted to talk, and she didn’t know how responsive she’d be, but she would at least try to not lose her shit like she had with Theo before… She had just been browsing the cocktail menu she saw Winn. Leaning out of the booth, she waved. “Hey! Winn. Over here.” She gave him a strained smile. “I hope you know I’m getting the biggest burger there is.”

Winn could be honest: He was frustrated with the chain of events that had unfolded in his absence. Noah had clued him in, and the pack’s general sentiments had solidified that Noah hadn’t been in the minority. But, really, aside from Noah’s special case, Winn could handle the pack’s anger. It had been a stupid miscommunication, but it was his stupid miscommunication. He could fix it. What he couldn’t fix, what ate at him, was Blanche’s trust in him. Winn slid into the booth, across from Blanche, and smiled tentatively. “B, you could buy out Dell’s and I’d pay for every cocktail, every inch of grease to make you a burger of your dreams.” Winn sighed, rolling his neck. He needed to be drunk for this; he couldn’t possibly be drunk for this. “I slept through half the day, the entire pack doesn’t trust me, my father I guess lives with me now? But, Blanche, I’ll be honest. I don’t give a shit about any of that because I am so scared you hate me now. I know it’s selfish. But I—” Winn glanced down at his hands, hesitant to meet Blanche’s eyes. “If you don’t want to… be around me. I understand. That’s one answer I don’t have for you tonight. I don’t… I don’t know what happened, after you threw me. But,” Winn looked up, “I am going to find out. It will never happen again.”

Blanche opened her mouth to start talking, but Winn started in on the serious things before she could even start with some mild small talk. She faltered, unsure what to say for a moment as she rubbed the back of her neck with a low sigh. She supposed she was supposed to feel bad, but all things considered, her emotions were a little fried. “Winn, I wouldn’t have met you here if I didn’t want to be around you,” she said pointedly. “I like free food, but not that much. Come on.” Tucking a strand of pink hair behind her ear, she considered her next words carefully. “I heard the words ‘loss of control’ being thrown around a lot,” she said finally, with a shrug. She remembered, vaguely, Winn’s wolfish form coming at her with some sort of bloodthirsty look on his face. That was the only reason Blanche was able to differentiate the first attack from the second, though she was still a little peeved he hadn’t told her he couldn’t understand human words. Noah was right, they were both morons. “And no, it won’t happen again, because we’re not doing that again. You want to spar with me? I get to punch you in your big, dumb human face and hopefully no one will scare me so bad that my brain thinks I have to chuck you across a clearing and into a tree. Which— Sorry. Again. Truly. I didn’t mean to.” And even if they did that, it would preferably be around the New Moon. She frowned slightly, and ran a hand down her face. “I’m sorry that the pack is angry with you, too.”

Winn couldn’t help a small smile from forming on his face. Not quite dopey, but not subtle either. They could work through this. “Naw, B. I can take being thrown into a tree. Uh, or… Physically, anyway?” He laughed, weakly, as the server came over to take their orders. And, Jesus, was everyone in this town brutally attractive? The guy could be a Pine’s brother. Winn leaned on his hand, scratching at his chin. “Well, not… all of the pack? Just mostly. And I prolly deserve it. I should’ve left the note somewhere smarter. I should’ve replaced my phone before leaving town. I should’ve checked my account or my email to make sure weird shit wasn’t happenin’. It was… I don’t want to make excuses. But a lot of shit went down, and me freakin’ out and comin’ at you was not the weirdest — or worst — part of my week. And given that it was extremely bad… Anyway, I’ll get to that, but: You’ve got nothin’ to be sorry for, far as I’m concerned.” Winn scratched at the wood of the table, nervous. “But, uh— Sorry. I don’t mean to be a bummer, just didn’t want… I know shit’s not great, with you, so maybe this is a dumb question, but: How’re you checkin’ in?” He’d explained the concept to her before, a while back, but this was the first time it felt… right to use it, instead of just chattin’. This felt more… not formal, per se, but different. A boundary that he needed to respect.

“I’m trying to not make it a habit. Throwing people, I mean,” Blanche said, running a hand through her hair. The server came and went and she let out a low sigh as she settled back into the booth as she listened to Winn. They could go over should haves and could haves for hours, though she didn’t particularly want too. It was a waste of time, especially when they could easily move on from mistakes and do better. Especially when no one had died. Even the feud between herself and Adrien seemed so small in the wake of Bea’s death. Adrien and Blanche could hurl cruel words at each other all day, every day, but at least they were both still alive. At least they were there so they could do that. The thought made her want to call him, but she knew he still needed space from the explosion that happened with Regan. She looked at Winn and just gave him a shrug. “Things are shitty,” she said. Checking in was harder and harder — she just wanted to forget and be numb to it. She had told Adam that it was easier that way. “Possession sucked. I’ve been staying with Nell because I can’t stand feeling a ghost near me for too long. It’s been a thing.” She gave another shrug, not willing to go into it. “Are you going to tell me where you went that made your week so weird and shitty? And, uh, for the record, I’d also like to address the killswitch thing as well, if you don’t mind.”

Oh, right. Honesty. That pesky thing that Winn had committed to, with Blanche and Noah especially. “This is going to be… a long story,” Winn warned, hand around his water for when he inevitably needed to pause. “So, uh. You don’t know… a fuckton about my past. That’s… by design, or was.” He stopped himself. Okay, he could be less confusing. “I was born Winthrop Linton Zhou, don’t say a fuckin’ word, and grew up in Falls Church. My dad, Daniel Zhou, taught at Georgetown for years, and my mom is, uh, Congresswoman-then-Speaker-of-the-House? Elaine Delacour. We like Dad. We have… extremely mixed feelings on Mom, to say the least. I, um, went to college, went through some shit, got the Bite, and then a couple years later… killed a Hunter, in self-defense.” He sighed, remembering that both his dad and his former partner didn’t blame him, and they thought he’d been in the right — that Winn didn’t need to carry that guilt quite so heavily. “Shit got… weird, from there. I was in a pretty dark place. And, uh, I… actually don’t remember a lot. I’m pretty sure that I was a wolf for, like… a lot of the time for the next year. But then there’s a whole other year, and… Anyway, more on that later. I ended up in Europe in early 2018, took on Winn Woods as an assumed name, falsified some documents, and eventually applied to school here. Couldn’t tell you why, to be honest. I’m— uh, well, okay, so that answered exactly none of your questions, but I’m gonna pause here, ‘cause I can see you steamin’ like a tea kettle.”

Blanche sat there in silence for a long time, staring at Winn with a mixture of… Well, actually, she didn’t know. Disbelief? Not quite right. And she wasn’t sure she was angry either. Blanche didn’t come in swinging with her “#TRAGIQUE” backstory either because as much as they all liked to make fun of their personal shit it was still personal and there were things that hurt. Things that couldn’t be glossed over in a joke. If Winn didn’t want to discuss his background that was his prerogative. She sat there digesting the information. At some point, the waiter came and went with their drinks. Blanche had a water and a lemonade because she always wanted both and it was easier for a second to watch the little lemon slice floating at the top of her drink than think about the information that was just dumped onto her. Blanche took a big drink of water. And then a big drink of lemonade. …. And then a big drink of water. And then a big drink of lemonade. And then she rounded off with a - guess what - big drink of water. And then, she folded her hands in front of her, and looked at him. “... Asdmgph.” Oh, good going, Blanche. Real intelligent answer. Sure using that college experience to help you out there. So, she tried again. “.... Winthrop?” Oh, that was an easy one to start with. “You have a problem with me calling you Winnifred when your name is Winthrop?”

Admittedly, Winn thought this conversation was going to go worse than it had. He expected anger, or yelling. But no. Blanche just stared at him, well, blankly. And drank a truly gargantuan amount of liquid, taking in water, and lemonade, like a fish in Georgia. And then short-circuiting, like a fish in Georgia when you dropped a toaster in the water. Okay, jokes. Winn could do jokes. Blanche and his entire relationship was built on a cornerstone of gentle ribbing, because both of them were ridiculous. That said, “I said don’t say a fuckin’ word about the Winthrop thing. I haven’t gone by that since I was, like, five.” Winn remembered cryin’ on the first day of kindergarten to his dad, beggin’ him to not make him go by Winthrop ‘cause all the other kids had such cool names, and they thought he was gonna be mean ‘cause his name sounded like an oil baron. (Granted, it was his grandfather’s, so… not far off.) “And I didn’t say I had a problem with you callin’ me Winnifred, I just thought it was lazy, Blanche.” He pointedly didn’t make a joke of Blanche’s name, needing her to realize this conversation was still, like, fairly serious. “Uh, also my dad’s a fox?” he tried, eager to move on from his name or what had led him to White Crest. “Like, um, not a literal. Like, a supernatural fox? Huxian-called-by-the-Japanese-kitsune kinda fox? He has tails. It’s kinda rad.” Winn, no.

“Okay, Winthrop,” Blanche answered immediately, grimacing slightly. Apparently, she had two settings at this moment, and one was watering herself like a plant and the other was, well, being a dick. “Sorry.” Blanche frowned slightly at the mention of his dad being a … fox. Furry genes. She had to swallow the word whole, before her eyes widened as she looked up at Winn in horror. “I’m turning into Adam,” she groaned quietly, running her hands down her face as she leaned over the table. God. Okay. Reroute, Blanche. Be serious a moment. She took a few deep breaths, and then looked back at him. “Huxian?” Blanche repeated. “Fox. Right. Okay. Cool cool cool cool cool cool. Cool. That’s cool. Like a werefox? … Don’t answer that.” Blanche shook her head. “Keep going. I’m assuming there’s more?”

“Um,” Winn started, and then stopped. “I— Yes. There is. So, I should… backtrack a little. My week itself was, like, fine. It was… getting back, that made it weird and shitty. Noah was mad. I think we’re okay, but he was mad. Everyone thought I abandoned them, ran away, or, shit, was dead. I’m… I don’t have a right to be mad about it, but I am, a little bit, and it’s not your fault, ‘cause I didn’t know and I should have been clearer and I— I’m doing it again.” He took a deep breath. “Adam is my killswitch. Which means, like, if I ever… hurt someone, during the Full Moon, then I trust him to make it painless when he takes me out. I don’t— The pack would try to protect me, but that’s not who I am, not who I want to be. I became a werewolf by choice, but I won’t become a killer. Accidents happen, I get that, and I don’t— I’d protect any of them who did something, but, for me, I just… If Adam didn’t do it, the guilt would kill me. I— Um, I know I said I’d answer questions about that, but, I’ll be honest, I really don’t want to talk about it. It won’t happen. If it does, you can’t stop me.” His voice had gone hard, taken on an uncharacteristically cold tone, almost emotionless. “Blanche, I really need you to bear with me here.” It was his first time saying it aloud, first time admitting to, well… admitting to the truth. What was probably the truth. “I don’t have all of my memories.”

#wickedswriting #para #Blanche #Talk Too Much #Sunshine Riptide #suicide tw

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