#even XL can’t think of anything but beating people up
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Lovestruck - fic
Characters: Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Jason Todd, kinda Dick
Pairings: future!jondami, implied-kinda?timkon, also timbernard
Summary: Damian starts acting weird after Tim and Bernard begin dating. Turns out even this kid can be naive, and a total idiot, when he wants to be.
A/N: idk a headcanon I couldn’t stop thinking about haha. Damian is absolutely one of those genius kids who don’t know the most basic things. Also if it’s not clear, Damian is comparing Tim’s answers to what he likes in people to if they match Conner. all ages are current canon so Tim is immortal and Damian is 14 mkay bye.
~~
When Tim started dating Bernard, he expected a lot of different things. He expected Bruce’s protectiveness, Dick’s softness, Jason’s gift of XL condoms, Cassandra’s date suggestions and even Stephanie’s own prepared shovel talks for his new paramour.
But he did not expect…well, this.
He did not expect to see Damian sitting on the front porch when Bernard brought him home from their third date. He did not expect Damian to start furiously writing in the notebook on his lap at the sight of them.
He did not expect to come down to breakfast and see the kitchen table scattered with notes and lists and images of way too pretty people, pictures of Bernard and Steph among them.
“…What are you doing?” Tim found himself asking sleepily.
“Research.” Damian replied simply, sipping thoughtfully from a mug on the island. “None of your concern.”
“Oh yeah?” Tim asked as he approached. Instantly he tapped the photos of Steph and Bernard. “So why are there pictures of my ex-girlfriend and current…boyfriend here?”
His stomach still did giddy jumps at the thought.
Damian’s lips twitched, like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Then he reached out and slid the photos underneath some papers. “Just…persons of interests.”
“For?”
“None of your concern.” Damian reiterated. Quickly, he began to shuffle all of his papers and pictures together. “Jeez, what does that Dowd boy even see in you…”
And then he was gone before Tim’s pre-caffeine mind could catch up.
After that, Damian was less obvious, but Tim could still catch on. In fact, everyone was catching on. But, like the emotionally constipated Bats they were, no one said anything, or tipped their youngest off.
They all just watched, as he suddenly began to distantly follow Tim around. Around the house, around the city, both as a civilian and in uniform. It was Cassandra who declared that Damian was watching who Tim was interacting with, not necessarily him.
He never followed him on his dates, though.
Then came the questions. Every time they were together. They’d go to lunch downtown near the office, and Damian would ask:
“Do you like that girl’s hair?”
“Would you ever wear those shoes?”
“How much do you respect a person if their suit jacket doesn’t fit them properly?”
When they’d be staking out a suspect on a building overlooking a street corner, he’d say:
“That belt is too gaudy.”
“You can tell he spent way too many hours in the mirror getting ready to go to that disgusting dive.”
“I can’t believe she’s walking on this street in those heels. Would you go for comfort or fashion?”
And it continued, the following, the seemingly random questions. After a while, Tim chalked it up to…maybe Damian was just getting to know him. Just trying to actually get along for once in their lives. They were both getting older, more mature. Maybe it was just time they started acting like what they were.
Brothers.
But then he came home one afternoon to find Dick standing in the manor’s foyer, back leaning against the wall that led into the central sitting room they all used. It was almost evening, which meant Damian was most likely in there sketching, or reading with his pets.
Dick noticed him open the door, and quickly put a finger to his smiling lips. Tim nodded and silently closed the door behind him, carefully took off his shoes and jacket, then tiptoed over to Dick.
He peeked around Dick’s shoulder. Sure enough, Damian was in there, but he was standing at the fireplace, staring down into the flames.
Jason sat in the loveseat behind him.
“Jay just got in there. He hasn’t said anything yet.” Dick breathed. Tim frowned skeptically. Surely Damian knew who was in the house. Knew there was something going on if Jason had just sought him out.
“What are we interrogating him for?” Tim whispered back. “Did he lose one of Alfred’s recipe books again?”
Dick just shook his head and pointed into the room. Tim looked back in.
Jason was relaxed in the chair, but staring intensely at his youngest brother. Damian must have known that, felt his eyes, because he wasn’t looking up. Kept his gaze glued to the fire at his feet.
Suddenly, Jason huffed, crossing his arms. “Spill.”
“Spill what.” Damian rolled his eyes.
“Spill why you’re stalking Tim.” Jason said bluntly. “Why you’re asking him all those dumbass questions.” A pause. “…Why you’re keeping tabs on his boyfriend.”
Tim inhaled sharply, glaring up at Dick. Dick waved both his arms quickly, implying that Jason’s words weren’t true, that it was just to catch Damian off guard.
“I’m not keeping tabs on him, Todd. That’s ridiculous.” Damian countered. “I’m merely making sure they’re still together.”
A moment to let the fire crackle.
“Well, I’m also making sure that boy isn’t hurting or manipulating Drake in some way.” Damian murmured softly. “But mostly, I’m just making sure they’re still together.”
Jason crossed his ankle over his knee. “Why?”
“What, I can’t be concerned for my brother’s safety and happiness?”
Jason snorted. “Not that brother’s.”
Damian glanced over his shoulder and narrowed his eyes. Then back to the fire.
Jason waited a minute, let his eyes dart across Damian’s back, study his posture. “…Why are you so concerned if Tim and his new boy-toy are still together?”
Damian shrugged silently.
“Don’t do that.” Jason scolded. “Use your words, Damian. Like a big boy.”
Damian let out a frustrated exhale. “I’m just…confirming Drake isn’t looking elsewhere.”
“What, to cheat on his boyfriend?” Jason drawled. “Timmy’s not the cheating type, I can tell.”
“No. No.” Damian said sternly. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“I’m saying!” Damian threw his arms out. Let them fall back to his thighs with a slight smack. “…I’m saying I’ve seen him look at others the way he looks at Bernard Dowd and that is…concerning. …To me.”
“Others?” Jason questioned. “What others?”
“Like Conner Kent!” Damian finally spun around now. Jason’s eyebrows rose in surprise and Damian rolled his eyes again. “Oh don’t tell me you don’t see it. Those two have been flirting with each other since the damn day they met. Drake dating this boy now only confirms the possibility of their eventual coupling.”
Jason let his face settle back into neutral, let the words bounce around in his brain. “Okay…I guess I can agree with that.”
Tim glanced up at Dick, who gave him a wink. Tim’s face instantly went beet red.
“But that still tells me nothing.” Jason continued. “So Tim and Conner maybe had or have crushes on each other. Maybe they’re attracted to each other. Maybe they’re forever star-crossed and nothing will ever happen. So what? Why does that bother you?”
Damian kept his lips pressed firmly together. After a moment, he spun back towards the fire.
“…Damian?”
“…Because it would be weird.” Damian said at last. “It would be weird if he and Conner…”
Damian’s voice fell to an unintelligible mumble.
“What?” Jason asked gently. “I didn’t catch that.”
Damian mumbled again, still impossible to understand.
“Kid, you’re gonna have to speak up, okay. I can’t hear you-”
“I said it would be weird if he was dating Conner while I was dating Jon!” Damian yelled, whirling around once more. “And if he breaks up with Dowd and starts dating Conner before I can gain the courage to talk to Jon then I’ll lose my chance!”
His last words echoed in the space around them. Floated into the hallway and echoed up the stairs, too.
Not that anyone noticed. Tim had grabbed Dick’s bicep, while Dick had thrown a hand over his own mouth in surprise.
“Oh my god.” Tim whispered. “Oh my god, oh my god.”
“That…” Dick murmured. “That’s the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”
Jason, luckily, had more composure than the two of them, and suddenly Tim realized why it was Jason doing the prodding, not Dick.
Jason’s eyes had just widened, no other movement than that. He remained still, remained calm, even as Damian’s face darkened, and embarrassed tears appeared in the corners of his eyes.
“Oh.” He said simply. “Oh, Damian.”
“Shut up.” Damian crossed his arms again, but they all knew this time it was to hold himself. “Don’t…don’t make fun of me.”
“Never.” Jason promised. “But also, not a thing you need to worry about.”
“Why, because Jon will turn me down anyway?” Damian whispered bitterly, turning away. Not towards the fire this time, just the window.
“He’d be an idiot to, and I’ll beat the shit out of him if he does.” Jason said as he uncrossed his legs and leaned his elbows on his knees. “No, I mean, you don’t need to worry about it because it wouldn’t be weird if y’all just so happened to be double-dating.”
Damian waited, then glanced back at Jason. “It wouldn’t?” Jason smiled and shook his head. “There isn’t like…I mean…a law…?” He inhaled slowly. “If Drake and Conner started dating, wouldn’t that make Jonathan and I…related?”
“That’s only if they got married, and even then, wouldn’t be weird.” Jason shrugged. “What, you’ve never heard those stories of like…twins marrying another set of twins? That shit happens all the time. You wouldn’t be the first.”
Damian blinked owlishly, let his hands fall back to his sides. “…Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.” Jason laughed, standing. “Besides, Tim seems to really like Blondie whats-his-name so…I really don’t think you have anything to worry about.” A second, to cheekily add: “At least…not right now.”
Damian twisted his lips. “I told you their chemistry was obvious.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, so is Bruce and Clark’s if you ask the tabloids and half the Justice League.” Jason droned, reaching out for Damian’s shoulder and tugging him into his side. “But like I said, don’t worry about it. Who cares about your idiot brother and who he’s dating, let’s focus more on you and how you’re gonna woo one Jonathan Kent, mmkay?”
He quickly ushered Damian out of the room using a door on the far side, only glancing back once to mouth oh my god! dramatically to the ones watching from the hall.
“That…” Tim exhaled as Jason closed the door behind them. “…was the most precious thing I think I’ve ever seen.”
Dick hummed in agreement, then: “…But is he right?”
Tim glanced up at him.
“You and Conner?”
Tim felt his face warm a little. “…I’m dating Bernard, Dick.”
“Okay.”
“And…I think I should go call him. We haven’t talked all day.”
Dick smirked. “Okay.”
“…Don’t look at me like that.”
Dick let out a chuckle. “Okay.”
“…Stop saying okay.”
“…Okay.”
“Dick!”
He laughed again. “Sorry, sorry.” He ran his fingers through Tim’s hair. “Tell Bernard I said hello, and also warn him that your younger brother is absolutely ready to gut him, should he hurt you.”
Oh yeah. Tim forgot that little tidbit. He felt his face warm even faster.
“Yeah…” He sighed, turning towards the stairs. He ignored the little flutter in his heart, at the idea of his lovesick, protective, ridiculous little brother. God, that kid. “Yeah, I think that’s probably something he oughta know.”
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Untethered (Bonus II) 《Bonus I》
For the first time in his life, XL feels like he can speak without the pressures and expectations of being a prince weighing down on his shoulders. He watches his facial expressions in the mirror as he rambles about the various meetings he had for the day. The subtle dancing of his eyebrows, rapid blinking of his eyes, and pinched corners of his lips—all indicative of how animated he is when summarizing his duties that seemed more like work than anything else.
The fact that HC is here, brushing his hair, and listening with occasional intrigued hums make XL reinvigorated as his role as prince. Despite the demanding energy, control, and fairness the role takes, XL is incredibly grateful for the privilege and promises himself to continue to fulfill this purpose to the best of his abilities.
So far, XL believes he’s done a sufficient job, preparing to ascend to the throne. After hearing him speak, he secretly hopes HC thinks so too.
“Ah, San Lang, thank you for kindly tending to my hair. It looks wonderful,” XL says once he feels the final knots come undone by HC’s broad strokes.
“Of course it looks wonderful. It is His Highness, after all,” the pirate captain comments smoothly. XL can’t help but smile at the compliment.
HC goes to place the comb back on the vanity. He switches it out for a short ribbon that shimmers silver when hit by the moonlight.
“Allow me to do one more thing,” HC adds. He gathers all of XL’s hair to fall behind his shoulders, the strands still a bit damp. With practiced movements, HC parts the prince’s hair into three sections, then begins braiding the pieces into a thick, tight section.
XL licks his lips in anticipation. Though he’s had his hair styled a thousand times before, this is HC who currently braids his long locks, a gesture that seems a bit intimate.
Not that you mind, XL briefly thinks.
“How have the last few weeks treated San Lang?” He asks, reminding HC of his promise to talk about his days on the ocean. HC pulls the pieces of hair tighter, focused on creating a simple yet consistent and neat braided pattern for the prince.
“Troublesome. There’s a new pirate ship we have encountered several times. They said they want to challenge us for our water territories, which is a load of shit because the sea belongs to no one,” HC spits out heatedly. His tone is harsh but his touch is gentle as ever. “I honestly think the captain wants to mess with me. Make me question my reign as the ‘most feared, ruthless, and violent pirate to sail the waters.’”
“Oh. I see,” XL says hesitantly. He’s not very familiar with the inside knowledge of pirate ways and society other than what is generalized by the public. And the palace’s gossip, of course.
Suddenly, a rush of hot air tickles XL’s ear. XL locks eyes with HC through the mirror, heart stuttering at the dark, hungry look in the pirate’s eye.
“What does His Highness think?”
“Think about what?”
“My reputation. Does the real thing live up to your imagination?” HC questions with a sly smirk, quickly tying the ribbon at the end of the braid, then moving it to fall over XL’s right shoulder. XL only has a few seconds to marvel at the stunning handiwork before HC leans forward even more, urging XL to turn toward him, their faces mere centimeters apart.
The pirate captain smells like manly musk mixed in with the ocean breeze. XL nervously gulps.
“I- um,” XL starts, feeling his face heat up. “Hmm, maybe not entirely...”
HC’s eye slowly flits down XL’s face. XL remains still, mentally kicking himself for wondering what it would feel like to close the small gap and-
“Fair enough,” HC remarks, pulling away, leaving a rush of air in his wake. “I suppose I’m not the madman people say I am. After all, His Highness wouldn’t have let me into his room otherwise, no?”
Something hot burns inside XL’s gut. He had to let HC in! If the pirate were discovered by the palace guards, he’d be imprisoned indefinitely for sure! XL was simply doing an act of service for HC...nothing too outrageous like HC implied.
Nope, none at all.
“You’re blushing.“
“San Lang better take a good look around lest this is the only time I invite him into my room,” XL huffs out, resolutely facing forward and avoiding HC’s penetrating gaze.
“Forgive me, Your Highness. I was simply teasing,” HC says, though he doesn’t sound all that apologetic. “A prince like you must have many admirers to choose from. I shall not take this privilege for granted.”
“Admirers? Where on Earth did you get that from?” XL asks, appalled. He hasn’t taken interest in any of the brides his father provided, much less traveled to other kingdoms in a serious pursuit to find one to marry.
“Is there not a ball happening this coming week? For you to choose a suitable woman to become your queen?” HC inquiries nonchalantly. He tucks a rogue curl behind XL’s ear, the prince subtly leaning into the touch.
XL whips around in astonishment, braid flying to his other shoulder.
“How did you know!?”
“I have ears on land, my prince. Even when I’m out sailing the sea,” HC says. “We have also passed numerous royal ships carrying your guests for the celebration.”
XL wilts in his seat.
It’s not much of a celebration if XL hadn’t wanted to host an engagement ball in the first place. Years of his father’s insistent pushing have led to more frequent gatherings with other royalty in hopes that XL finds a fiancé.
Unlike his parents, XL wasn’t betrothed from a young age. Furthermore, he hasn’t expressed any interest in marriage even once becoming an adult.
(“Your mother and I were married at twenty. You, my son, are already twenty-two,” the king always said. “You should quickly find a princess who catches your eye. The sooner you get yourself a wife, the sooner she will start learning her duties as queen.”)
XL has successfully put off marriage for a couple of years, deferring to his rigorous training schedule and duties as prince as an excuse. Fortunately, his mother is willing to let XL take his time, as the king isn’t set to retire anytime soon. After all, XL learning his responsibilities as king is the most important task.
HC instantly notices XL’s deflated expression. He attempts to backpedal.
“I had no right to bring that up. If this is something Gege does not want to discuss, then, by all means, he may change the subject,” HC says quietly. Respectfully.
“No. It is fine. It is by no means a secret at all. The ball has been scheduled for weeks now,” XL murmurs while looking at his bare feet. He fiddles with the long braid, smoothing over the tightly wrapped strands absent-mindedly. “I’m not actively looking for a wife or anything. At least, I don’t want to...”
“Your Highness-“
“San Lang.”
HC’s mouth snaps shut. He straightens his back with his shoulders set square, standing at attention in front of the Prince of Xianle.
“Could you do something for me? A small favor, if you will.”
“Anything,” HC immediately answers.
XL subconsciously chews on his lower lip, a habit that his closest friend SQX reprimands him for doing because it tears up both the old and healing skin. Easy to overdo, not a quick fix, SQX claims.
XL rises to his feet. He holds his hand out to the pirate, palm facing upwards.
Where’s My Love – SYML
“Will you dance with me?”
“I’m afraid gege will be sorely disappointed with this one’s lack of skill,” HC says as a matter-of-fact, but he doesn’t hesitate to accept XL’s hand, his long fingers blanketing XL’s own.
The prince’s heart skips a beat as the pirate pulls him close until their chests almost touch. XL feels small; HC’s heeled boots to XL’s bare feet exaggerate their height difference, XL only coming up to HC’s chest.
XL feels small but strangely, he wouldn’t want it any other way.
“San Lang needs only to follow my lead,” XL says, looking up with a smile. He properly intertwines their left and right hands, then places HC’s other hand on his shoulder. Finally, XL goes to hold the pirate’s waist, the thin fabric giving way to the hard muscle underneath.
“Gege must have danced with a lot of pretty women before,” HC muses, moving his feet as XL slowly guides him into a waltz. XL hopes it isn’t just him imagining a slow, romantic piece to harmonize their movements.
“Is San Lang jealous?” XL asks without thinking.
Goodness, did those words seriously just come out of his mouth? Other than his eyes widening in slight horror, XL schools his face into a calm expression, not wanting to seem conceited or even desperate.
HC peers down with a lazy smirk, almost crowding into the prince as they turn to dance in a circle. Despite XL’s effort to appear unfazed by the prospect of HC envying those who’ve had the opportunity to dance with the Prince of Xianle, the pirate still catches the hopeful flicker of XL’s eyelashes.
“A little bit. Though in a way, I’ve had my fair share of dances with Gege myself,” HC states proudly, referring back to their previous sparring sessions. The break in focus has HC stumbling over his feet, prompting XL to squeeze his waist as a reprimand to concentrate.
“Ah, yes. San Lang’s skill is undeniable in that aspect,” XL says, laughing. “He’s also the first and only man I’ve danced ever with.”
“What an honor,” HC purrs out, and then he lowers XL into an abrupt dip, holding the prince by his hip and upper back.
XL’s breath hitches, wondering how they seamlessly switched positions. HC tenderly stares down at the prince, a twinkle dimly reflecting in his left eye.
“San Lang...” XL whispers, clutching onto HC’s shoulders. His long braid feels heavy like rope where it hangs down, nearly touching the ground.
“Your Highness.”
Their faces are millimeters apart, skimming each other’s noses. They’ve never been this close before, especially not in the absence of any sort of weapon. No one besides the king and queen, palace servants, and bodyguards are even allowed to touch the prince.
Now here he is, in the arms of the infamous Crimson Rain, on the verge of letting himself want.
Tentatively, XL licks his lips before asking, “Why do you always come back?”
“Gege knows this answer too,” HC solemnly says.
XL tilts his chin up, eyelids starting to lower.
“I come back for you, my dear Prince.”
As HC leans down—still supporting XL’s weight—XL meets him halfway for their first proper kiss, alone together in the prince’s room where the pale moonlight spills through the balcony doors. It’s a light and airy peck, one that ends way too soon for XL’s liking.
When they pull apart, HC stands XL back up. The pirate notices XL’s robe has slid off one shoulder. He goes to pull it back up but XL quickly grasps his jaw for another kiss instead.
They part again.
“Just...one more-“ XL breathes out, adrenaline coursing through his veins. HC’s lips are warm and firm, easily pliable as they press deliciously against XL’s own. “...one more.”
HC gladly obliges.
Their kisses gradually pick up in pace, HC’s hands respectively exploring the span of XL’s back, his hips, and sides. XL eagerly pulls HC over to the edge of his bed, spinning them around so he can climb onto the pirate’s lap.
HC groans low in his throat, comfortably looping his arms around XL’s waist.
At this point, all of XL’s reservations have been cast aside and he’s going to act on the desires concerning a certain pirate that have been taunting him for months now, damn it.
XL surges forward with a force that knocks HC back against the soft mattress.
“Your Highness,” HC growls between kisses, still trying to cover up XL’s shoulder, and now his chest where the robe is loose enough to reveal noticeable cleavage. XL shifts a bit to align their hips, unintentionally rubbing against HC. “Shit-“
“Hua Cheng-“ XL hums, belatedly realizing his slip up. HC nips at his lip for his mistake.
“San L-lang,” XL mewls like the starved for affection prince that he is. HC’s tongue darts out to swipe across XL’s upper lip. Then, his lower lip.
XL naturally opens up for him, gasping as HC’s hot tongue licks inside his mouth with a dominance that consumes XL. The more XL lets his lust cloud his movement, the faster he feels himself harden.
When XL’s hands brush along HC’s hair, they accidentally graze onto his eyepatch. HC grunts in surprise, which has XL springing back as the situation of the last five minutes dawns upon him.
He sits up on HC’s thighs, placing his palms on the pirate’s chest. Underneath him, HC is a gorgeous vision–thick, wavy hair splayed out on XL’s pillow, lips swollen and spit-slicked.
“Oh my- oh my lord,” XL chokes out, completely breathless. “Was- was that t-too much?”
“Not at all, Your Highness,” HC replies with a rogue-ish smirk. “Come here.”
HC embraces his prince with long arms, squeezing tightly and pressing a series of kisses to the top of XL’s head. XL hesitantly rests his cheek on HC’s sternum, aware of how close their bodies are pressed together.
“Who knew Gege could kiss like that?”
“Like what?” XL questions petulantly.
“Like a shameless minx,” the pirate captain answers, chuckling when XL whines at the implication.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” XL shyly admits.
“Me too,” HC murmurs. XL lifts his head, crosses his arms on HC’s chest, then sets his chin on them. “Since the moment I saw you sitting alone at the pub.”
“You wanted to kiss the crown prince at first sight?” XL asks, pretending to be scandalized. HC kisses the tip of XL’s nose. XL scrunches it up in response.
“Hmm, my prince now.”
“Well, your prince would very much like it if San Lang stays the night.”
“I must be back at the harbor before dawn,” HC says, stroking XL’s hair. “However, I can most certainly afford to accompany Gege while he sleeps.”
XL happily snuggles close to HC, not worrying quite so much about the ball now that he has something going on with HC. To his astonishment, the pirate seems to return his affections quite enthusiastically. As a prince with the duty to serve his people, XL reckons he deserves this moment of happiness.
After another hour of blissful exchanging kisses and aimless conversation, XL feels himself begin to drift. He hears a whispered promise from HC who protectively curls around him.
“I will never bring you harm, Your Highness. Your heart is safe with me.”
XL falls asleep into a dreamless slumber.
***
Present...
As if it happens in slow motion, XL swings the sword with all the power he possesses. HC’s arms stretch open in vulnerability, lips forming into a small, understanding smile.
“Gege.”
Something inside XL shatters. The familiar term of endearment is for XL’s ears only. His heart pounds against his rib cage with the ferocity of an imprisoned soul, screaming at XL to ask not what he would wish for in death, but what is he willing to live for?
The answer is right in front of him.
“I’m back.”
Three things happen at once.
A deafening BOOM fires at the royal ship from the opposite direction, pitch-black flags with the symbolic skeleton of a fish piercing through the chilly air.
Simultaneously, a blinding flash of lightning strikes across the sky, signaling an even more intense downpour of rain that obscures everyone’s vision. Surprised screams echo somewhat mutely among the roaring winds.
Lastly, XL swings his sword so it barely skims the open blouse HC wears and keeps rotating until it crosses behind him, where he lets it go flying back to the royal ship.
At that moment, XL leaps forward into HC’s embrace, where those long arms encircle his waist, and both men are sent tumbling down into the crashing waves of the raging ocean.
《VI》
#tgcf#heaven official's blessing#hualian#hualian au#xie lian#hua cheng#pirate & prince au#cerdrabbles#TBC#tian guan ci fu#the bonus had to be split into two#I really just wanted to write Hualian’s first kiss here hehe#we back in the present babyyy
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This week on Great Albums: a stupendously underrated classic of queer punk meets synth sophistication, and an album without which we wouldn’t have Dare by the Human League: Homosapien, the 1981 solo opus of Buzzcocks frontman Pete Shelley. Find out more by watching the video, or reading the transcript below!
Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! Today, I’ll be talking about one of those albums that isn’t necessarily the most acclaimed or best remembered work of its period, but nonetheless played an important role in history, and remains unrivaled for its uniqueness: Pete Shelley’s Homosapien, first released in 1981.
Shelley has historically been chiefly remembered as the frontman of the punk act, Buzzcocks. But, despite punk’s reputation for simplicity to the point of obnoxiousness, Shelley was one of many musicians to come from the punk scene with a penchant for experimental or otherwise ground-breaking music. His very first solo release, 1980’s Sky Yen, features little more than a brash wall of oscillating electronic noise, not unlike the earliest provocations of industrial artists like Cabaret Voltaire.
Music: “Sky Yen (Part One)”
Subsequent generations of critics have gone great lengths to coin and define terminology, in the hopes of breaking this period down into constituent parts, but the more I study it, the more I’m inclined to view it as just a huge soup. There was, quite simply, a lot going on in Britain’s underground in the late 70s and early 80s, and in practice, the lines between punk, post-punk, industrial, synth, noise, and other avant-garde miscellany are frequently illegible. As an artifact of this era, Homosapien resonates with all of the contradictions this melting pot would imply, fusing emotional rawness and pristine production in a way that never quite settles down and feels comfortable.
Music: “I Don’t Know What It Is”
“I Don’t Know What It Is” served as the opening track of the album’s second side, as well as its lead single. With a bona fide guitar solo as well as a propulsive, and truly soaring, chorus, it somewhat resembles that most 1980s of art forms, the power ballad. It is, ostensibly, a love song, and is revealed to be one quickly enough, but its portrayal of love is far from kind. While a real power ballad might take the concept of love for granted, “I Don’t Know What It Is” seems to portray it as something mysterious, inscrutable, and dangerous. And I can’t forget to mention just how much Pete Shelley stands out as a vocalist--his high-pitched, perhaps even fried or shrill vocals add a great deal to the song’s sense of unease, and really sell the idea of someone who’s being overtaken by an uncontrollable and dominating force.
Of course, perhaps the most noteworthy thing about Homosapien’s sound is its fusion of the hard, driving acoustic guitar of punk with the electronic sensibilities of its producer, Martin Rushent. I wouldn’t say this combination is ever terribly cohesive in its sound, but I think that’s why I find this album so interesting: there’s a tension that permeates each track, a feeling that things don’t fit together. While Homosapien is a pioneering work of electronic-centered production, enough of the pieces are still in place that you can certainly hear the shape of music to come as you listen to it. It’s not just the synthesisers, but also the use of electronic percussion here--it’s difficult to overstate the impact that so-called “drum machines” had around this time. While reviled by many, both then and now, rhythm machines were undeniably “instrumental” in changing what popular music sounded like. Even synthesiser-based electronic acts like Gary Numan, OMD, and Kraftwerk often relied on traditional percussion, so this genuinely was pretty shocking at the time.
Perhaps the most important element of the legacy of Homosapien is the fact that Martin Rushent would go on to use the skills he honed here to produce one of the most influential albums of the 1980s, and perhaps of all time: The Human League’s Dare, which would go on to cast an enormous shadow on nearly all popular music to come, after playing an enormous role in instigating an era of popular dominance of synth-pop. In that sense at least, Homosapien is certainly a very historically important album, and for that reason alone, I think it deserves a fair bit more attention than it gets. Still, for as much as the electronics might be the most forward-looking element of this album, one also can’t deny that it remains full of aggressive and perfectly punk overtones, as on the crass or perhaps dismissive screed of “Guess I Must Have Been In Love With Myself.”
Music: “Guess I Must Have Been In Love With Myself”
While Homosapien has many moments of seemingly being too thorny to get a good grip on, that doesn’t mean that there aren’t also times in which it can feel like a bit more than the sum of its apparent parts, as on its most narrative-driven track, “Pusher Man.”
Music: “Pusher Man”
“Pusher Man” is one of, if not the, most synth-centered compositions to be had on Homosapien, but its insistent pacing and neurotic portrayal of the “low life” theme of buying illicit drugs mean you’ll never confuse it for run of the mill synth-pop. Moreso than anything else the album offers, this track reminds me of the sort of “synth-punk” that American acts like the Units and Crash Course In Science would put forward at around the same time. “Pusher Man” was, at the very least, a sufficiently experimental track to earn the honour of being cut from the US release of the album in order to make room for some non-album A-sides, as happened to many albums at the time. But hey, that’s enough beating around the bush. Let’s talk about the real crown jewel of this album.
Music: “Homosapien”
If you’ve heard anything from this album before, chances are, it was probably the title track, which proved to be quite the commercial success--despite being banned by the BBC on account of its homoerotic content. Given that this very same year, they also came after OMD’s “Enola Gay” for its obviously nonexistent reference to homosexuality, one might be forgiven for thinking that a tune called “Homosapien” was simply misinterpreted. The title track isn’t terribly explicit material, but its clever wordplay nonetheless deals quite deftly with issues of sexuality and personal identity. In the earlier verses, Shelley introduces us to typified roles of gay male sexuality--the “cruiser,” the “shy boy”--only to seemingly doff them with the tune’s defiant refrain, asserting that the only truly important identity a human being has is that of “Homosapien.” Far from being an unfortunate coincidence, the similarity of “Homosapien” to “homosexual” is being employed here completely deliberately, particularly with it being mashed into a single word and thus gaining a greater resemblance to the word “homosexual” in print. It not only allows Shelley to belt out a borderline dirty word, but also creates a sort of unconscious syllogism, suggesting, in a sense, that homosexuals are people too.
With elements of both unapologetic pride in one’s own queerness, as well as the uncompromising assertion that humanity is something much deeper than that, the title track of Homosapien is one of the most fascinating and inspiring queer anthems of its time. Its artsy slipperiness has prevented it from feeling more shallow with time, and its straightforward or raw quality, intensified by that constant acoustic guitar, has kept it sounding equally sharp. It genuinely does surprise me that this album isn’t at least a little bit better remembered than it is. Outside of the title track, most of this album is currently not available on services like Spotify and YouTube Music at the time of this writing, and I actually struggled to present musical examples here. That’s really a pretty high level of neglect in this day and age, and I hope it can be rectified in the relatively near future.
It would be no exaggeration for me to say that Homosapien features some of my very favourite cover art of any album. Homosapien’s sleeve design sees Shelley occupy some sort of sleek, but hollow hyper-modernist office. Geometric forms suggest the world of the artificial or ideal. An Egyptian statue beside Shelley is a reminder of history, and the idea that even the greatest empires must eventually fall. Likewise, the telescope and early computer positioned nearer to Shelley are evocative symbols of science and technology--but in context they seem more sinister, being juxtaposed against a phrenology bust, which evokes the ways in which our attempts at science have caused misunderstanding and great human misery in the past. The central scene is framed in with large areas of black, which make the space feel even more claustrophobic and uninviting, and Shelley appears to be pushed into the background, almost belittled by the inanimate objects. Overall, I think it’s sort of funny that this album’s cover is perhaps more iconally “New Wave” than the music itself ended up being, particularly with Shelley clad in this somewhat foppish white suit and bow tie--certainly a big change of attire for a former punk!
Given the experimental nature of the collaboration between Shelley and Rushent, you might be surprised to learn that Homosapien actually wasn’t a one-off. Just two years later, Shelley would release a follow-up LP, XL-1, which was also produced by Rushent and largely continues the same ideas. While Shelley would never see the success of “Homosapien” again, the XL-1 single “Telephone Operator” would also chart to a lesser degree.
Music: “Telephone Operator”
My favourite track on Homosapien is “Qu’est-ce que c’est que ça,” which closes out the first side of the album. If you’re familiar with my other work, you probably already know that I’m coming at this as someone chiefly interested in the electronic side of things, and I think that of everything on this album, “Qu’est-ce que c’est que ça” is the closest to being convincing as a synth-pop tune. With a bubbly, synth-dominant sound and lyrics that are more contemplative than aggressive, it’s much closer to the mould of what I usually listen to for fun than a lot of the other tracks are. That’s everything for today--thanks for listening!
Music: “Qu’est-ce que c’est que ça”
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“K SIDE: PURPLE 08”
Translation: Naru-kun
Raws: Ridia
K - Side: Purple (Chapter List)
Looking at the customer who entered, Taka-san widened his eyes.
Isshin Hase, a man who settled in "Niibangai" about half a year ago. He was a big man with muscular bones, and if he had had the aptitude, he could have been hired by this "Massive Boys", but for now, he "established himself as a goalkeeper for all of Niibangai".
Hase looked confused while he was at the store entrance. It is not surprising. "Massive Boys" is a so-called "tourist bar" that anyone can walk into, but there are chaotic fluorescent neon signs, bondage fashion Greek sculptures, and bright posters of gay porn stars all over the store. At first glance, customers are often confused and some leave the store immediately.
"Sensei, come here."
When Taka-san beckoned, Hase looked relieved and walked over to the counter. When he put his giant body on a stool, he looked like one of the figures in the store.
Taka-san laughs a bit as he hands him a hand towel.
"Welcome. It's rare for Sensei to come to us."
"Um, well, that's right. I'm not good at these kinds of places."
Taka-san is in awe of the wording. Since Hase was in a hurry, he wondered why he had come if he wasn't good at it, or what if he said it in front of them.
"Oh, no, no! It's not about you, there's just no green tea in this place to drink. Sorry."
Taka-san involuntarily bursts out laughing. It seems true that he wasn't good at socializing, although he didn't have to panic.
"Well, that's correct. Sure, you can't drink?"
"Um, I can't."
"Ah, I'm not serious. I apologize, we have many other non-alcoholic drinks."
He glanced sideways and pointed at Chief Satoshi. He saw this person, so the instructions mean that others are welcome. Satoshi looked ahead and yelled, he came out of the counter to stop an employee who is getting involved with a customer.
Taka-san turns to Hase and says with a soft smile.
"So what are you going to do, Sensei?"
"That's right. I'll order a sake that I can drink."
"Yes."
Taka-san took the shaker. There was no doubt that Hase asked for that for his sake. There are days when he still wants to drink alcohol that he cannot drink. He has been doing this kind of business for a long time, so he knows it.
He adds syrup, sugar and lemon to some cocoa liquor and shake it. Transferring it to a glass, he poured in sparkling water and was slightly driven, Taka-san presented the glass in front of Hase.
"Yes, please. Cacao Fiz. It has less alcohol, so feel free to drink."
"Oh, thanks."
He raised the glass with a nervous hand, and took a sip. Hase's eyes widened.
"Uh, it tastes good."
"Thank you."
Taka-san smiled. Hase tipped his glass again and drank several times.
He wondered what happened.
For half a year after the gangster attacked, Hase has solved many problems in "Niibangai". There are many people, including Taka-san, who have been helped and protected by him. Still, his good-natured personality who never snorts his achievements, was welcomed favorably by the "Niibangai" neighbors.
Still, Taka-san doesn't know Hase's details. Also Mi-chan and Seiya. He is forbidden to snoop unnecessarily, which was implicitly a rule of thumb in "Niibangai", which has many wounds on its inhabitants.
So Taka-san didn't force him to answer, he just shook off the little talk.
"How about these days? What about Mishakuji-chan?"
Hase laughs on one cheek. A sip of cocoa and then a sip of words.
"His sword is..."
"Yes?"
"I was right. That boy has a good sword."
For a moment, Taka-san didn't understand what Hase was saying.
Hase's ability is brute force. He has taken down several thugs in the blink of an eye. He was not sure about the sword, but he could understand through common sense that he had been studying for many years and that his technique cannot be surpassed by one half.
That is to say…
"Why are you asking that all of a sudden?"
"I heard you promised Sayuri to try to avoid injury. Until now, you've been hitting with a move that doesn't care, but it seems like you've decided to change that."
"……"
"The word genius is lukewarm. Yukari is real, so is his ability."
Speaking to himself, Hase set the empty glass on the counter.
"Give me a refill."
"Yes."
While preparing a new cocktail, Taka-san implicitly observed Hase's expression.
Hase seemed to be laughing. Eyes closed and thoughtful, his lips formed a slight smile. But Taka-san didn't know what he thought was true. What do people feel when they are outmatched by humans for just half a year after many years of research? Only the person knows.
"He's a great kid. That's it."
Taka-san is even more cheerful as he pours a new cocktail into the glass.
"Yeah, he really does cause that feeling, right? Mishakuji-chan is amazing. He's been able to do anything for a long time, he's smart, he has a good face. It's weird that he's in a place like this."
Hase smiles bitterly as he looked at the glass that Taka-san gave him.
"A place like this, is a greeting. I wonder if this is where I live."
"Yes. "Niibangai" is certainly our place. But after all, it is a place like this."
Taka-san turned his gaze towards the shop, saying that selfishly. The burly men in XL evening gowns and prima donna suits hold their glasses cross-shouldered and the singing voice is out of tune.
"Drop something, run away from something. This is a mound of snow where these people gather. The more time we spend here, people like me, Mi-chan, Seiya, Sayuri, we have no place to stay other than here."
Hase's glass was empty. Taka-san unconsciously poured half sake.
"But Mishakuji-chan is different. Since he is a big boy, it is possible that he can fly to a wide world that we cannot imagine. I think he is a boy, who unlike us who cannot escape, can open up by himself One Way."
Taka-san says that, narrowing his eyes.
Mishakuji Yukari was certainly such an existence for the people of "Niibangai". Hope and possibility. Being able to fly to places where they can never go. That's why everyone who likes Yukari feels that he is not suitable for this place.
"Escape."
Suddenly, Hase's face was dyed bright red and the giant swayed. Taka-san rushes to replace the glass.
"My God, I wonder if I drank too much. Water, water."
"Hm..."
Hase looks at the water that Taka-san offered him. Hase flutters with some drunken eye flashes.
"I'm the same. I wonder if it was fate that brought me here."
"……"
Do not poke around uselessly. That is the "Niibangai" rule. They all have the same scars that they don't want to be explored.
However, you cannot live with your own pain forever. There are times when you still want to spit out the scars you don't want to find. In such a case, listen to the story silently. That's not "Niibangai's" rule, it was Taka-san's rule.
"Why did you come here, Sensei?"
When Taka-san poured the water, Hase leaned his elbows on the counter, closed his eyes, and began to speak slowly.
"I betrayed my friend and ran away from him."
++++++++++
The Miwa Meishinryu Dojo was located near Hase's birthplace.
He doesn't remember why he got a sword. He was not good at socializing due to his natural nature, and he believed that swinging a stick was easier than playing with friends at school. There were few outsiders who bothered to learn old-fashioned swordplay, and it was even rarer when they were younger, and there was only one disciple his own age.
That was Miwa Ichigen's school.
Miwa was the grandson of the owner of the dojo, a boy who was sought out to take over the Miwa Meishin style. For that reason, it seems that he was strictly taught not only the sword, but also all martial arts and etiquette. From the boy Hase's perspective, Miwa seemed to have little time to break free.
However, he didn't make sense of Miwa's character. He always had a spring breeze atmosphere that made his feel relaxed just by being next to him. It wasn't a bother for Hase, who wasn't good at socializing, to be around Miwa. Not only was he a friend of the sword of the same age, but Hase and Miwa believed that they fit together in terms of personality.
However, even Hase often couldn't understand Miwa.
For example, while he was practicing in the presence of a sword, there was a moment when he suddenly lost his head. Even if it's practice, if the hit is bad, it will hurt. Since he knew, he should have to put stress on his whole body, but Miwa just looked somewhere far away, and sometimes his heart wasn't even there.
And Hase couldn't attack Miwa. He should be full of spaces, but there was no possibility of attacking anywhere. He was caught up in the premonition that a ridiculous counterattack would ensue the moment he hit him, and he had no choice but to turn Miwa around. Meanwhile, both of them were severely scolded by the owner of the dojo.
"Hey. What the hell was that?"
After a day of practice, Hase scold Miwa.
Half intended to complain. Both of them were ordered to clean the entire dojo as punishment for clumsy practice. He couldn't help but wonder why he wasn't fed up with Miwa, but he couldn't think of beating Miwa if he acted immature in front of him.
As he squeezed the cloth he had just lifted from the bucket, Miwa asked mysteriously.
"What's that?"
"That's it. It's like you go somewhere from time to time, whatever you're practicing. It's hard to do and I can't get over you."
"Ah..."
Miwa was a bit shy.
"That's the word that comes to mind."
"Word?"
"Yeah. Words that usually come to mind that aren't cohesive probably come together at that moment, and then my head goes that way."
He has turned his lips into a sword. He knew from his long relationship that Miwa wasn't teasing him.
"I do not know why."
"Yes. I really don't get it."
"I can't understand what you don't understand."
Having said that, Hase smiled bitterly. The one who laughed was the loser. He placed both hands on the mop placed on the floor and cleaned as he took a step. Hase lecture Miwa that he was a little late.
"If those words come together, let me know."
Miwa also laughed a bit and replied.
"Yes. I'll tell you when the time comes."
In the future, Miwa will be the owner of the Miwa Meishin-style dojo. Become a friend of Miwa, he will have the level of a teacher, sometimes they would exchange swords, teach the sword technique to the neighborhood children and hear those "words" one day. Somehow, Hase envisioned that future.
So when he heard that Miwa was leaving the house, he wasn't surprised at all.
Hase and Ichigen Miwa's sword arms were almost the same, but their heads were different.
When he heard that Miwa would be enrolled in the highest school in the country, he thought reflexively, "This guy will do long before breakfast."
But he really didn't understand. Why wasn't he the successor to the dojo? What happened to the promise to hear the "words"? Does he throw the sword? Out of anger, Hase was asking that question in quick succession.
Miwa was a bit embarrassed, as he bent his neck.
"No. I'm sure I'll be waving my sword wherever I am."
Then, with a look soft like a spring breeze, he added:
"The 'words' are not organized yet. Once they are organized, I'll show them to you first."
"Really?"
Hase had no choice but to say so. There were no other words.
The difference between him and Miwa was clearly shown.
First of all, he was a different person than him, who was not good at socializing because he was careless and had no choice but to cling to this land while he brandished his sword. Miwa, she was smart and had many brilliant talents. He was a person who could advance to a larger world for a better future. It was just that Hase was so crazy that he thought he must be around him all the time.
"Do not feel alone."
The words that came out of his mouth surprised him. He should be pleased with the prosperity of his friend, but the first thing that comes up is his feeling. Masochistically, he thought that place would be different without him.
Still, Miwa smiled and replied.
"Me too. I will be a teacher who teaches from the heart."
Then, Miwa flew all over the world.
Shortly after Miwa disappeared, Hase became the teacher of the Miwa Meishin school.
It seems that the owner of the dojo still wanted Miwa to take over the dojo. The instructor would only be Miwa, and he claimed that he was in the middle of a "long absence". That was not important to Hase. He was not interested in the position or title as long as he could live wielding his sword, he thought it was the most suitable life for him.
Meanwhile, almost 10 years have passed.
One day, Miwa came by chance.
After graduating from high school, he heard that he got a job in an overseas securities company and that he is doing a great job. It would be a lie not to say that his friend was living a completely different life from his, and that he didn't feel alone, but when he thought "that's what it is", it was a story he could swallow. He thought that he had found something that could be the basis for him, just like he was living with a sword.
The face of his friend that he saw after a long time seemed to be dead.
Hase looked at his face seriously, and Miwa smiled like a spring breeze, as in the past.
"I'm sick. I left the company."
If asked, it seems that dark circles floated under his eyes and his body was thin. Hase could only imagine what a foreign securities company would look like, but it was probably a hostile environment that could damage the trained body with a sword. Hase ran into a friend, who fell ill and eventually returned from an unknown land.
"Miwa. Stay here forever. This is your home."
With a smile on his face, he shook his head gently.
"No. This is your dojo. I decided to retreat into the distance."
Hase opened his eyes. He didn't know what Miwa was thinking.
He said that he will soon go somewhere even though he had returned. Miwa took Hase's hand and said, wondering if such doubts had appeared on his face.
"It is said that good air is better for me. I can go calmly because you are in charge of this dojo."
"……"
"I lost the Miwa Meishin style."
When he told him that, Hase couldn't do anything else.
That night. Hase saw Miwa in the Kendo room.
Miwa dressed in a sash and calmly waved a wooden sword. It was probably because of the feeling that he was sick and did such a thing. It is a dojo where he spent his childhood and youth. Miwa who returned after a long time, thought it was inevitable that he would want to breathe the air of the dojo even if he made his sick.
"I understand your feelings, but don't overdo it."
He tried to yell that when he saw it.
Miwa, waved his sword as if dancing. As if running water flowed incessantly, his feet and the sword of judgment as well, they never stayed in one place.
Silently, gracefully, without the gap of habit, Miwa manipulated the wooden sword lightly.
It was hard to believe that this sick man was away from the sword for many years.
Indescribable discomfort hit Hase's chest. When he realized it, he was entering the kendo room. Hase didn't stop even if he looked back in surprise when he noticed that.
Miwa unexpectedly pointed at his throat.
"Miwa, fix things with me."
Hase, unknowingly holding a wooden sword that he hung on the wall in one hand, raised it unconsciously.
His bloodied eyes are wide open, his shoulders are tight, and his lips are tight. When he saw Hase, he had a sad expression on his face.
"Oh, I…"
"Don't say anything. I ask you to fix things with me."
Then Hase held his sword to his eyes.
Miwa was silent for a while. He had his face down, so Hase didn't know what kind of expression he had. With a wooden sword in his hands, he said in a hazy voice.
"I will not reduce the number of hits."
"Try this. I will never forgive you."
Miwa looked directly at Hase and held his sword in the top row.
That only made the skin all over his body crawl.
He didn't want to admit it. He couldn't forgive him. However, as a grave fact, he stood in front of Hase.
Miwa was stronger than him. Much stronger.
He couldn't admit it.
Hase was surprised that such pride lurked in him. Hase saw himself as a disinterested and cheerful person just by wielding his sword.
But that meant that if he turned it over, he only had one sword. He thought that he wouldn't lose, even if it was Miwa. No matter how beautiful he was, no matter how glamorous he was in the world, only the sword. He only believed in this way of life, yet somewhere in his being, he believed that he was inferior to Miwa.
He was crushed.
The moment he saw the sword dance, he knew that he was in a situation where he couldn't even compete with Miwa. He was sick. He believed that he had been working for a company for a long time.
Miwa was much more skilled than him, who has directly thrust the sword.
He couldn't forgive him.
Miwa, no. He cannot forgive himself. The chief was not skilled enough to trick him into pretending not to see him. All feelings and consideration turned to dust at that moment. Isshin Hase had to challenge Ichigen Miwa.
Miwa with the sword in the top row had a transparent expression. The expression was familiar. It's the expression he used to have when he practiced, when his heart was going somewhere.
The facial expression when the "words" arise
At that moment, he couldn't hit him. He had a feeling that he was going to receive a terrible counterattack and could only turn around.
But now…
If he didn't hit him now, he will regret it for the rest of his life.
"Oooooooooooooh!"
Driven by thoughts of him, Hase kicked the dojo floor. A reverse kasaya that appears to be licked from the bottom left. He fired the strongest blow of his life.
And…
++++++++++
"So what happened?"
Taka-san asked in a low voice, looking at Hase, who has fallen onto the counter.
"Fu…"
With his forehead pressed against the counter, Hase shook his shoulders and laughed.
"Of course I lost. No matter how many times I tried, I couldn't even touch it with the sword."
"……"
"The next morning, Miwa left. He left a letter."
There was a brief goodbye and a "word" in which the words were finally joined. No words of apology were written. Hase was saved by that.
"The next morning I left the dojo. I should have decided once that it was my place to live. I couldn't bear to be there anymore."
If he entered the dojo and swung his sword, he would remember that night. When he realized that, his life was worth nothing.
"I ran away. I left the dojo that night. For the very fact that I couldn't get over Miwa. I left the dojo that Miwa had entrusted to me and the disciples who trusted me, I fled, kept running, and then I came here."
Hase laughed deep in his throat, lifting his flushed face and squeezing it.
"I tried to assume that Miwa was special. He was a monster given two or three times by the sky. Then Yukari appeared."
With a laugh, Hase covered his eyes with his big palm.
"When I saw his movement today, I remembered Miwa that night. I moved like I danced and didn't stop. It's funny, right? After running away from a monster, I ended up meeting another monster. Kukuku…"
Hase kept laughing deep in his throat. Maybe he wasn't laughing. Thinking like this, Taka-san gently walked away.
"In the end, I can't. I couldn't beat him or forgive myself for losing. I saw Yukari today and I remembered him. I'm a useless person."
Taka-san thinks that there are two types of people who despise themselves.
Someone who wants you to deny it, and some who really believe it.
Hase now is probably the last. There was an opponent who lived with a sword and still couldn't beat him. He doesn't think he can understand all the regrets, despair and helplessness at that time. Suffering can only be understood by the person who tasted it.
However, there was still a problem with Hase.
"Miwa, right? I have never met him, but I am grateful to that person."
When Taka-san said, Hase looked up mysteriously.
"Because without that person, I could have been dead."
Hase looks at Taka-san with drunken eyes. Taka smiled, poured water into the glass, and presented it to Hase.
"Isn't that true? If you had overcome that feeling before that person, you wouldn't be here right now. Then I could have been stabbed by that yakuza and would die."
"……"
"It's not just me. It's the same for Mishakuji-chan. He could have been seriously injured protecting me, and that boy could have died if you hadn't intervened. Right?"
Hase shook his head, saying that he couldn't turn his head properly. Taka-san sighed and looked directly at Hase.
"You may have lost. You may have escaped, thrown away, betrayed and come here. But there are people who have been saved."
"……"
"So don't say you're worthless, much less say that in front of Mishakuji-chan, because he respects you."
"Does he respect me?"
Hase repeated it, like the words he heard for the first time. As he looked down at the glass.
"But eventually he will be stronger than me."
"But now you are still that child's teacher."
Hase was listening to the words and sinking into the depths of the water in the glass.
"So, be proud and be like a teacher. Not for you, but for Mishakuji-chan. One day when that child leaves the nest, you will be able to proudly say, 'Isshin Hase taught him the sword.'"
Hase was silent for a while.
Taka-san didn't say anything else. He thought it was Hase's problem. After all, Hase himself is the only one who can come out of despair and suffering.
"So is."
Finally, Hase muttered and crept into his chest.
What he took out of it was a messy piece of paper. It was slightly dirty and covered with hand stains, and the written characters were not clear. However, Hase squinted to see the precious written treasure and murmured.
"I may have come here for that."
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The Cats and The Owls Going Shopping - Haikyuu!! Light Novel Vol. 10
In which Nekoma and Fukurodani go souvenir shopping, and Tsukishima’s life somehow gets unnecessarily more difficult as a result.
Translation under the cut
“So, what are you getting?”
“... Probably manju...”
“Then how about that one with ‘I went to Spring High’ on it? If you want to go with a safe option.”
“That? A safe option?”
The goods area is lively with the participating players, cheer groups, and spectators around. There, gathering and joking around are the players from Fukurodani Academy High School who have just won their first match. The first, second, and third-year regulars are all there. However, in the midst of their lively chatter that’s just like during one of their after-practice burger runs, their ace is nowhere in sight.
“Ohh, there you are! Guys, I told you not to leave me!”
Making his way through the crowd of people in team jackets and jerseys, appears Fukurodani’s ace who is one of the nation’s top 5 players, Bokuto Koutarou.
“Why did you guys leave me?”
“Why should we wait for you to finish your business in the toilet?”
Talking back to the ace is none other than the one dubbed as the team’s ‘Jack of all trades, master of none’, Konoha Akinori, but Bokuto pays him no mind and takes a look at the goods stand instead.
“So, do they still have it?”
“... What is it this time? You always, always leave out the subject when you speak. What are you, a kid?”
Konoha continues his rant, and Bokuto turns around annoyed, “Oh, come on!”
“This is exactly why, when someone is saying something, don’t just start grumbling around! Of course I was asking about ‘The Way of The Ace’ t-shirt!”
The way Bokuto said it as if it’s obvious does irk him, but hearing his teammates’ chorus of “You already have it, right?” “I feel like you already have one,” calms him down.
“Well I do have it, but...”
Time for some explanation.
‘The Way of The Ace’ t-shirt—it is Bokuto’s favorite t-shirt which he bought during the previous Spring High.
“One, his figure shall inspire his allies”
“Two, he shall break through any walls”
“Three, he shall hit every ball with his utmost”
With those words of The Way of The Ace printed on it, any ace, any player aiming to be an ace, or any former ace—any of them would yearn to put it on and have those words on their back while they practice; a t-shirt that makes even national level aces’ mouths water. Small details like if it is a Spring High exclusive item or if it could be purchased somewhere else are totally unknown to mere highschoolers.
“Not just have it actually, I’m wearing it right now, but...” Beating his own chest covered by his jacket, Bokuto continues to his questioning teammates.
“If you think about it, it’s obvious, right? As I get bigger, I won’t be able to wear it anymore. So I need another one.”
His teammates around him look at each other and start grumbling.
“Are you a mom?”
“Thinking that you’re still growing, how confident!”
“I think I want to see you wearing a t-shirt that’s already too small instead.”
“Like I’ve said, why do you guys always start grumbling every time? Whenever I say anything you always, always... Hm?”
Bokuto’s eyes light up. As if they just spotted a prey.
“Tsukki!”
What those eyes just spotted in the midst of the hustle and bustle is the face of Karasuno High School’s first-year middle blocker, Tsukishima Kei. Having won their first match earlier than Fukurodani, the members of Karasuno High School Volleyball Club are also spending brief free time right now.
“Tsukki! Heey! Don’t ignore me, heey!”
His complaints towards his teammates now forgotten, Bokuto smiles cheerfully and waves his hand. But Tsukishima, whose attempt to pretend he didn’t notice Bokuto has failed him, frowns and says, “... Hello,” politely nodding to return the greeting while his steps comes to a halt.
However, Bokuto pays no mind to the wall Tsukishima has put up and steadily closes the distance between them.
“Could it be, Tsukki is also here to buy ‘The Way of The Ace’ t-shirt?”
“No.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. Don’t be shy!”
To whoever looking at the scene, there’s no hint of any shyness in Tsukishima’s soured look. Bokuto’s teammates start saying, “He’s not being shy, right?” “Clearly he doesn’t like it,” “It’s harassment, harassment!” “Tsukishima, it’s okay to ignore him,” but Bokuto simply ignores them. Instead, he completely assumes the role of a reliable senior and calls out to to the staff manning the goods stand.
“Ah, excuse me! Can I have one ‘The Way of The Ace’ t-shirt size L... no, XL, and... Tsukki, you’re quite lanky, so L would be fine, right?”
“.........”
Met with how close Bokuto’s face is, how loud his voice is, how inconsiderate he is, and how wrapped up in himself he is, Tsukishima knits his brows and refuses, “No need.”
“Ah, could it be that you wanted to buy that one instead?”
The item Bokuto pointing at is a t-shirt hung up with the words ‘Those who laugh at grit will cry in the face of grit’ written in calligraphy-style on it.
“.........”
As if he just saw a bug he hates, Tsukishima looks away from the ‘Grit and Laughter’ t-shirt.
“I’m not buying any t-shirt, and even if I have to, I won’t be buying that one.”
“Hum... Then what about a Fukurodani keychain? As a memento.”
“Why do you think I would want that?”
“What did you come here for then, Tsukki?”
Tsukishima hesitates for a moment.
‘Why should I answer it?’ As he thinks that, it also crosses his mind that he might be able to escape Bokuto’s persistent questioning if he just answers him this one time. He weighs both choice in his head, and by a small margin, the latter wins.
“... I’m getting souvenirs for my family.”
While paying for his ‘The Way of The Ace’ t-shirt, Bokuto hums and nods nonchalantly.
“Tsukki is someone’s child too, huh...”
“What does that even mean? And could you please stop calling me Tsukki?”
“Yeah. So Tsukki, how many siblings do you have?”
“.........”
‘—What is communication again?’
Is what Tsukishima is thinking. The basic of conversation is listening to what the other party is saying, isn’t it? Listen, then respond. There are also cases where someone purposely avoids responding to what the other party is saying. However, to naturally not listen to the other party, then proceed to continue the conversation, what is that even called? While having such thoughts, Tsukishima accidentally lets out the answer to Bokuto’s trivial question.
“... One older brother.”
“Aah! I knew it! You seem like a youngest child! Tsukki does seem like a youngest child!”
Right before Bokuto, who is holding his new t-shirt in high spirits, Tsukishima is stricken with humiliation and self-loathing. ‘Why did I answer it? No, why did I even come here?’
The other Fukurodani members starts piling in on him again, “Bokuto, don’t mess with other school’s first year.” “I get it though, Tsukishima is the type you just want to mess with, right?” “True, he’s like Akaashi in some way.” “Eh?” “Kidding, kidding. Don’t mind it.” “I do mind.” The chatter continues as they enjoy this accidental occurrence as though it’s their after-match dessert. At the same time, students from other schools are starting to notice the Fukurodani’s ace. Chatters like “It’s Fukurodani,” “Bokuto is here,” are getting louder.
Tsukishima’s discomfort is at an extreme.
“.........”
‘Who cares about souvenirs, I’m heading back. I can still buy it tomorrow, and even if I don’t buy one, it’s okay too. Anyway, I’m heading back.’ Tsukishima has decided.
“Well, then,” Tsukishima says as he goes for an out, but right when he looks up from his forced smile, his eyes catch a group in red and he stops in his tracks.
Suddenly, a group of Nekoma players are nearby. A blond mohawk, a half-Russian, and a rooster head.
Tsukishima instantly covers his face and turns the gears in his head.
‘What do I do now?’
If Nekoma’s Kuroo Tetsurou joins this pesky situation as well, it will be a repeat of the summer training camp. The summer training camp where he got involved with the Tokyo team captains combo of Bokuto and Kuroo. Although he can’t deny that he learned a lot in terms of volleyball, those were the days where the psychological stress he endured drained both his mental and physical energy.
The unintentional peskiness and the definitely intentional peskiness. The peskiness of facing these two opposing types of peskiness at the same time is no ordinary peskiness. It’s not a peskiness that a body could endure after a match.
‘Are they gone?’
He steals a sidelong glance to check, expecting the group in red to be blocked by the crowd or go look at goods on the other end of the area, but it turns out they’re still nearby. Just as he clicks his tongue, he senses someone staring at him.
He quickly lifts his head and is met with the eyes of Nekoma’s setter Kozume Kenma.
“.........!”
“.........!”
Both of them tense up. And then with the smallest of nods, they establish some sort of communication in an instant.
‘Please don’t come this way.’
‘I don’t want to go over there.’
With the reaction speed of only those who have faced each other countless times separated only by the net, or perhaps the reaction speed of only those who equally find this to be extremely bothersome, due to their mutual interest they both look away as if nothing happened.
Good thing it’s Kozume who noticed him. Relieved, Tsukishima is just about to quickly take his leave from this place when just like an unexpected ambush, his ears catch a voice.
“Ah! Bokuto-san is over there! Ah, Tsukishima too, heey, heey!”
The one bouncing up and down pointing at him is a Nekoma first-year, Inuoka Sou. Bokuto who notices him goes, “Oooh!” in response, and Nekoma’s captain Kuroo asks, “What are you doing here?” drawing near with a smirk on his face. Behind him, Kozume puts on an expression that says ‘It’s not my fault...’ and averts his eyes.
---
Surrounded by the Tokyo reps in red and white jackets, Tsukishima has completely lost his timing to escape. Towards the weary Tsukishima, Nekoma’s captain Kuroo calls out in teasing voice.
“So what were you going to buy before you get caught, country bumpkin crow?”
On the receiving end of the mysterious pressure from the smirking Kuroo, Tsukishima could only mutters, “Nothing, really...” and looks away, trying to find any chance to escape this place. And right then, without knowing, Bokuto cuts in and says loudly, “Eh? Tsukki, you’re getting souvenirs for your big bro, right?”
Tsukishima’s face clouds over.
‘Why only my brother? I said I’m getting souvenirs for my family, though,’ he thinks irritatedly, but since they won’t get it even if he said it, he stays silent.
“.........”
But because he stays silent, now it’s Kuroo who hums and poke his head into this matter.
“I knew it, Tsukki is a youngest child, I was correct”
Tsukishima’s face gets even more clouded over.
‘What do you mean by knew it? What do you mean by correct? Please don’t just spout random things,’ he thinks irritatedly, but even if he said it, he would end up having to explain more, so he stays silent.
“.........”
But even if Tsukishima doesn’t say anything, or probably because Tsukishima doesn’t say anything, the Tokyo captains who already know his personality end up getting excited and saying whatever they want.
“By ‘knew it’, could it be that you already knew Tsukki is a youngest child?”
“That’s just my observing eyes.”
“Awesome, you could make a living out of it, no?”
“Huh? What kind of job would that be?”
“What would that be.... Ah, I know, you could become something like game show king, right?”
At that very moment, Nekoma’s second-year wing spiker Fukunaga Shouhei who has been quietly listening to their conversation from the corner suddenly bursts into laughter.
“Eh, what? Was there anything funny? Did I say something funny? Eh?”
The sharp-eyed Bokuto spots Fukunaga and approaches him. Nearby, 3 people of different schools and school years let out a sigh at the same time.
“I have no words.”
“Isn’t that something?”
“No words...”
In sequence, the those were the words of Akaashi Keiji, Tsukishima, and half-covered under Haiba Lev’s shadow, Kozume who has been working hard at his mobile game.
“Th, the three of you, the three of you... Together like that....”
On the receiving end of the judgmental cold stares from players of 3 different schools including his own, Bokuto exaggeratedly buries his head in his hands and looks down in shame.
Noticing Bokuto’s back which is starting to tremble, Fukurodani members are starting to get nervous. “Ah, this is bad.”
They don’t want things to get any more bothersome than this. While the end of their match today was a blessing in disguise, it doesn’t change the fact that dealing with Bokuto’s ups and downs is bothersome.
The Fukurodani members exchange glances on the spot, but as they were about to leave things to Akaashi, the subject of the matter suddenly looks up to the ceiling as if he just had a revelation.
“So! That means! Unless you three are together, you can’t bring me down, right!!”
As if drawn by that voice, the surrounding falls silent. “I’m the strongest!” Bokuto’s roar resounds.
“.........”
The Fukurodani members look at each other. “We’re tired anyway, should we just leave Bokuto and go back?” “Yeah, let’s go,” “Good job today,” “Heading back,” The mood is just starting to turn that way when someone in red jacket approaches Bokuto all on his own.
“Bokuto-san, you’re so cool!”
It was Inuoka.
“Ooh, so you get it! So-and-so-kun!”
“It’s Inuoka!”
“You have a bright future ahead!”
“Is, is that so!?”
Inuoka’s eyes light up brightly.
---
Not being particularly concerned that their important first-year is getting excited with Bokuto and leaving them on their own, the rest of Nekoma take their time to look at the goods.
“It’s not like I want anything that badly, but while looking at these you just know you’d end up buying something, right?” “Yeah, totally.” Started by their libero Yaku Morisuke, the Nekoma members joke around. Behind them, walking along leisurely is Lev, who then points at the manju box.
“As a souvenir, isn’t this one with ‘I went to Spring High’ on it good? It’s a safe choice.”
“Safe choice? But saying ‘went to’ doesn’t really give the vibe that you won, right?”
Hearing Yaku’s reply, the vice captain Kai Nobuyuki nods.
“True, it gives the vibe of the memories of when you played at Spring High, right?”
“Well, if you put it that way...”
“The fact that it’s gone once you eat it will also remind you of the impermanence of worldly things.”
Ignoring Kai and Lev who are looking intently at the manju box and admiring it, Yaku quickly decides, “I’ll go with the t-shirt after all!” and heads towards the booth staff.
However, not long after Yaku comes back dragging his steps without any t-shirt in his hands.
“What happened? You look upset.”
“Sold out,” Yaku curtly answers Kai. From above him a booming voice can be heard.
“Spring High t-shirts are a battle after all, right!”
It’s Bokuto.
“A battle?” asked Yaku reflexively. “Yeah!” Bokuto nods.
“Another battle out of the court.”
Watching Yaku avoiding Bokuto’s thrust index finger, Fukurodani’s member are stunned.
“He’s saying something weird again.”
“He got carried away just because he managed to buy one...”
“Bokuto, don’t go bothering others!”
In the midst of Fukurodani and even Nekoma members’ wry smiles, Inuoka shouts excitedly.
“I managed to buy a t-shirt too!”
“Ooh, so you’re a winner!”
“Yes!”
Casting a sidelong glance at the weird master and pupil relationship between those two, Kozume asks Yaku.
“Which one did you want?”
“Hm?”
Yaku points at one of the t-shirts hung at the stand.
“Over there, that one. The one with ‘Those who laugh at grit will cry in the face of grit’”
“... Grit...”
Behind Kozume who’s furrowing his brows, Inuoka turns around.
“Eh? That’s the one I just bought. It’s this one, right?” Inuoka takes out a t-shirt from the plastic bag and shows it. It’s the same ‘Those who laugh at grit will cry in the face of grit’ t-shirt.
“If you want, I don’t mind handing it over at the list price.”
Yaku refuses Inuoka’s offer, “Nah, it’s fine.” But Inuoka insists.
“No need to hold back!”
“It’s fine.”
“But!”
“Like I said, it’s fine!”
Just as Yaku raises his voice, Lev suddenly stretches out his hand and takes the t-shirt from the stunned Inuoka. Then, after looking back and forth, he says, “I knew it.”
“Eh, what?”
Ignoring the confused Inuoka, Lev looks at Yaku.
“XL size won’t fit you, right, Yaku-san?”
The Nekoma members who are watching shut their mouth tight and look away.
Lev has the nerve to say unnecessary things, towards Yaku, towards Yaku-san, regarding heights in such a direct way. No, to begin with, Inuoka, no rather than that, Bokuto— the thoughts swirl in their heads, and the atmosphere grows tense. The one to break the tense atmosphere —that makes even the crowd of onlookers from other schools nearby to also falls silent— is none other than Yaku himself.
“Shut up!!” At the same time, in one decisive move Lev shouts.
“Ouch!! Wha! Why did I get kicked?”
“Winner, what winner? I’m not losing!”
“But I didn’t say anything about winning or losing!”
“Shut up!”
A battle is starting to unfold between the senior and junior in red jackets. But a guy calmly walks right into the center of it.
“Hey now, Yaku-kun!”
It’s yet again Bokuto.
“Nothing will come out of resenting the winner!!”
Seeing their captain confidently saying that, the Fukurodani members go, “You just shut up!” “You only say unnecessary things!” and drag Bokuto back.
---
As for Tsukishima, he’s only a worn out bystander watching the whole commotion.
“What are these people doing...”
‘No one is minding about me anymore, or more like they’ve forgotten about me. If I want to head back, this is the time. No need to say bye or anything. Seems like it’s not the time anyway.’
‘I’m getting out.’
Just as he turns his heel, bright and pleasing voices can be heard nearby.
“It’s so cute!”
“I’m so glad we bought it!
At those voices that warm their bodies that have grown cold just like the winter sun, the Nekoma members, Fukurodani members, and also Tsukishima who is just about to escape, spontaneously look up.
The voices belong to two girls.
Lev, who is being chased by Yaku, and Yamamoto Taketora, who is trying to save Lev, look at them and shout.
“Ah, Nee-chan!”
“Akane?”
“Lyovochka!?”
“Onii-chan!”
The girls are part of the Nekoma cheering group, Lev’s big sister Alisa and Yamamoto’s little sister Akane.
“Look, look, Onii-chan!”
Akane runs up and hands the plushie of the official mascot.
“I bought this. The one in light blue is this year’s limited edition. I’m matching with Alisa-chan, right!”
“Yup!”
“Ah, that’s right! Alisa-chan, let’s take a picture together!”
“Oh, how nice!”
Hanging the plushies by their sides, they make silly faces and take selfies. First is a smiling one, and in the next shot they burst into laughter. It’s as if bright sparkles can be seen around these two innocent girls.
It might be the effect of the sparkles, but the tense atmosphere is starting to lighten slowly. The embroiled minds of the volleyball club members are also soothed, and they lose their intent to fight.
‘Don’t we all get along?’ ‘That’s right.’ ‘I’m also tired.’ ‘Yeah.’
Such atmosphere is spreading.
And then Kuroo shows up right before the two girls and bows.
“If anyone is a winner here, it’s the two of you.”
“Eh, what is this about?”
“... Ah, do you want to join in on the picture?”
In front of the two puzzled girls who have no idea what’s going on, Yaku and Inuoka exchange a firm handshake.
“My bad, Inuoka. You were offering it with good intention.”
“No, I also didn’t consider the size, I’m the one who should apologize!”
After rain comes fair weather. Watching the two’s strengthened bond, Bokuto, as if a case has been settled, says, “Out of the court, there’s no such thing as winning or losing!!”
---
“I’m so tired somehow,” “Yeah, I wonder why,” the Fukurodani members start. After exchanging glances, Akaashi speaks up as if he’s been waiting for this exact moment.
“Then shall we head back soon?”
“Yeah.”
“If we leave Bokuto, he’ll make a scene again.”
“Let’s go back, Bokuto!”
The captain, called by his teammates, replies “Okay!” and run towards them. He says, “See you tomorrow!” towards his rivals and heads back.
“We’ll come again tomorrow!”
“Do your best!”
After the two cheering girls headed home, Nekoma members too, say, “Should we go as well?” and start walking away.
Among the drove of the leaving members, Lev mutters.
“Yaku-san, are you not going to say sorry to me?”
“As if.”
“So mean!”
Completely forgotten by the two teams, Tsukishima is just about to walk back when suddenly someone calls his name.
“Tsukishima!”
Waving his hand and running towards him is Hinata.
The drained Tsukishima feels relieved seeing that face.
‘If it’s only Hinata on his own, everything is under control...’
Thinking that, without even waving back or responding, he silently walks with Hinata.
“Hey, Tsukishima, did you buy anything? I bought a t-shirt! This, ‘The Wisdom of The Ace’...”
Hinata is about to take the t-shirt out from the plastic bag when Tsukishima gives him a glare and says as he walks past, “... Don’t ever speak of that again in front of me.”
“Eh?”
Surprised, Hinata stops in his tracks, but Tsukishima quickly moves ahead. Hurriedly chasing Tsukishima, Hinata shouts, “What is it! I haven’t even said anything yet! Hey! Tsukishima! Wait, hey!!”
---
Moving this PSA to the end of the post because the project has ended (I think? Waiting for Viz’s response now) but someone might still be interested. Or you know, you can spam Viz directly here lol.
PSA:
I encourage whoever reading my translation to please support the official release by buying the light novel if you can. The illustrations and bonuses like the reversible covers are delightful! AND if the novel gets more sales it will be more likely for us to get more release. But, I get that it might be difficult for some to spend money for a novel that you can’t actually read because it’s in Japanese.
And so I happened to saw this Twitter account @HQlntranslate the other day. They are trying to get VIZ to do an official English release for Haikyuu Light Novel. How great that’d be! We could get every single chapter translated by professional translators who know what they’re doing unlike this amateur translator wannabe lol.
Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, go visit the Twitter account and fill in the form so that we can get the light novel released in English and support the series!
PS. I swear this is not a sponsored post lol.
#haikyuu#hq#haikyuu light novel#hq light novel#translation#fukurodani#nekoma#bokuto koutarou#kuroo tetsurou#yaku morisuke#haiba lev#tsukishima kei#i should say poor tsukki#but i actually enjoy tsukki's descent into madness after getting involved with bokuto and kuroo :')#akaashi save him
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From: Cace, Jae, and Calum
Cace and Calum meet at a Christmas and for being in their mid to late twenties that’s feels right. But things change when a baby gets involved and Calum just wants his best friend to enjoy her time, especially at the holidays.
Female OC. Uncle Cal. Baby fluff. Enjoy!
Enjoy the Christmas 2020 Blurb Masterlist
Enjoy my full masterlist
Support me on Ko-fi. (Trying to put money together for textbooks next semester!)
__________________
Calum giggles mostly to himself, his index finger wrapped up in the fist of his nephew laying on his lap. Well, he’s not technically his nephew by blood but the bond is still all the same. Calum never misses an opportunity to show off his picture to anyone that will give him the change too. Jae looks so much like Cace it’s insane but he gets it now, all the comments he and his sister used to get, and even now. Calum met Cace only two years ago while at a Christmas party thrown by someone that he can’t remember. They found each other by fate, as Cace liked to say.
Calum had been nursing his one drink for only half an hour before flipping the switch, rather than sulking, he was going to enjoy himself. Nothing too far, or too crazy but Calum knew he was definitely going to need a ride back home and he was going to enjoy the night. And it was in that, going back for another drink that Calum tripped. Nearly face planted with someone caught him with a laugh. “Let me guess, you’re not normally this much of a klutz.”
He laughed in return, still holding onto the girls forearms. “Give or take.” His balance returned soon, but his hold never fell away. He wasn’t sure if he had seen her around before, outside of the party. She looked so familiar. But in the drunken cloud taken over his brain he couldn’t answer his own curiosities.
“Cace,” she states.
“Calum.”
“And you might want a water at least one before going for whatever else tickles your fancy on this spread.” She guided him towards the drinks and snacks and quickly tossed him a bottle of water. “Drink up, buttercup.”
“Thanks,” Calum said, watching her turn to head back to the depths of the dance floor. “Hey, Cace,” he called out. When she turned, eyebrow raised and head cocked to the side, Calum had a shot prepared, raising up into the air. “Oh, don’t make a man drink alone.”
Cace walked back over with a grin on her face. “You know it’s bad luck to cheers with water right?”
Calum’s sly grin never wavered and he pulls up a second shot prepared. “Just give me two minutes to finish this water and no bad luck for us.”
And that brought them to grabbing lunch on Cace’s breaks--while she’s no singer, she does know her way around a contract--hanging in studios, the two of them taking day trips to get away from the noise of the city. Calum would ask for advice and Cace, being a year and a half older, happily gives it. But for all the advice she can give, Cace’s track record in the dating department wouldn’t ever show for it.
Jae kicks a little but a grin lights up his face. Calum laughs, stroking a finger along his cheek. “Hey, hey, what’s got you all giggly?” Calum’s voice is soft. The couch dips just a little next to him and Calum looks over to Cace.
Her smile is soft but still clearly holds the exhaustion that she hasn’t been able to shake yet. “How long have I been out?”
Calum keeps a hand on Jae’s tummy before sliding back into the cushions. “Not long enough. You’re off Mum duty. Remember. Uncle Cal and Nephew Jae taking the world by storm--no mum’s allowed.”
Cace scoffs, pushing up to to glance at the clock on the wall. “By the looks of it, it’s been an hour and a half and you haven’t left my house.”
Giving Jae’s tummy a rub, Calum tries to hide his smile. “Little booger here preoccupied me.”
“Oh just admit it, he’s too stinking cute.” Cace stares down at her son, watches the way he giggles and coos at the tickle of Calum’s fingers. “Like really stinkin’ cute,” she states in a whisper. For the moment she tried not to think too much about how she could kill the son of a bitch that got her pregnant only to bolt--though Cace wasn’t sure she’d call it bolting. He had a line of women and as Cace steadily refused to give up her baby, he went onto the next.
“I know that murdery look in your eyes. You’re exhausted. That guy’s a dick. But you have a happy and extremely healthy baby boy. Take the day, Cace. You deserve it.”
Cace sits up, folding her feet under her. “I love my son. I just wish he wouldn’t have any pain.”
“Jae’s got Uncle Cal, and Uncle Ashton, and Uncle Michael, and Uncle Luke. We’re all he’s going to need--you’ll be there for his first crush and we’ll beat up bullies.”
Cace laughs, hand rubbing gently over Jae’s head as Calum rests Jaue against his chest. “I’ll be there to beat up bullies too.”
“I did say we,” Calum grins, the twinkling lights of her decor. Her living room’s already been decorated. He helped last weekend with that and even helped her put a tree. “You know what you need?”
“You already told me it was sleep.”
“In addition to sleep,” Calum starts. The tree’s beautiful. Cace always makes sure of that for Christmas. “You need Christmas photos in cheesy matching outfits with your baby boy and we’ll send them out to your family and make really bad Christmas ornaments and we’ll stamp Jae’s little hand on one and you’re going to enjoy this holiday season with your son and your best friend.”
“Do you remember the Christmas party we met at?”
Calum nods. “Of course I do. And this year will be the absolute opposite of that, but it’ll be good for you, Cace.”
There’s a moment silence. Cace studying the feature of Calum’s face and Calum studying the features of her. She notices the worry on his face, the way it pulls down his lips and makes his eyes dimmer. He notices the bags, but a certain bright spot in her eyes. “Alright, you’ve convinced me. Homemade Christmas ornaments and cheesy photos. I’ll go get dressed.”
“No, no, you stay home. Rest up. I’ll go out and get what we need. Jae can tag along. He gets a vote in the really cringe onesie I buy him.”
“Cal, c’mon. Jae gets fussy sometimes and in a mood. I don’t want you have to tackle that all on your own.”
“Cace, let me do that. For you. Just one day. I know Jae, when he gets fussy I check diaper first, try the bottle second, and if that doesn’t work. you taught me the swaddle. We’ll take five and I’ll make him a cozy bean wrapped in his mum’s smelling blanket,” Calum punctuates the part by tugging on the blanket Cace snuggled up with in her sleep, which admittedly she might be just a tad too big for, “and he’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.”
Pushing to her knees, Cace holds Calum’s cheek in one hand. Calum didn’t have to step in. Surely, there were better things to do than go with Cace to appointments and stay home on nights when she knew the guys were out. And he helped put together the nursery. He got the guys to help him too, but Calum would be on the receiving end of 7 am phone calls to fold baby clothes and lift packages into her house when she got too big to bend over or lift anything.
“You’re more than a girl could ever ask for, you know?”
“Good thing you didn’t ask for me.”
Cace rolls her eyes. “Yeah, no, I called it fate. But still, I appreciate you. For everything. It means a lot.”
Calum kisses her cheek. “You’re welcome. Now, text me what size you wear and then go back to sleep. Shower first. I can smell you.”
A chuckle escapes Cace’s throat. “That’s-that’s not me, Cal.”
“Oh, Jae, buddy.”
With Jae in a fresh diaper and the diaper backpack Cace keeps packed at all times on his shoulders, Calum straps Jae into the carseat he bought for his own car. Cace told him to just use the one she had, but Calum wanted one in his car, just in case he needed it for emergencies, for Uncle and Nephew days. His phone shakes in his pocket as he connects the last buckle into the middle. “All good? Snug in there?”
Jae’s on the verge of sleep, and Calum knows the ride will lull him right into the deep sleep. Calum responds to his own question. “Yeah, Uncle Cal, I’m snug as hell. Drunk of some milk. But, oh, boy, was it good.”
I wear a XL. Still have baby weight. Who knows if I’ll loose it all.
A sigh escapes his lips. Cace hasn’t let the baby weight fixation go. She lost some of it, but the last little bit was still holding strong. You know XL just means extra love, right?
What happened to the e then?
Xtra Love. It’s cool guy spelling. You look great. You had a baby. Give yourself some kindness.
Cool guy spelling for Cool guy Cal.
Yeah, something like that. It doesn’t shock Calum that she doesn’t respond to the other parts of his text.
Calum makes his first venture to the craft store. It’s the furtherest stop on the agenda today, so he heads there first. Jae sleeps the majority of that stop, even with all Calum’s wondering up and down aisle he doesn’t seem bothered. Calum gathers some popsicle sticks, glue, felt, glitter, various body safe paints, string, ribbon, and everything else he can think of. He knows it’s going to be a mess, but what’s Christmas without a little bit of a glitter bomb.
Jae sings, or as close to singing, from the backseat as the radio plays. At a red light, Calum glances back. “Huh, that was a nice nap you got in. Let’s hope your mum got the same.”
Calum knows by the parking lot this store is going to be a bit crowded and noisy. But it’s the first one he could think off that would family matching onesies. Calum figures instead of the stroller he’ll strap Jae to his chest. Hopefully that will keep him calmer seeing as the little guy’s still not totally a fan of a lot of noise. He does alright by prolonged exposure makes him just a tiny bit fussy.
It’s a good sign when Jae looks around, eyes bright. “Oh yeah, lots of new sights around here,” Calum states softly. The store is not as bad as he originally thought. There’s still a lot of people out and about but somehow they don’t seem to be all swarming the shopping floor. He can only imagine what the checkout line looks like, but that’s more of a worry for later--if he even finds the matching onesies.
The speakers overhead pump Christmas music through the store. Thought Calum wouldn’t call himself big on Christmas, he finds humming along, fingers brushing along the various fabrics as he weaves through the aisles and racks. Calum gets sidetrack on his way to the Christmas displays spying an intriguing button up--it’s black with a dotted pattern. Up close he can see there’s little snowflakes instead of actual circles.
He shouldn’t get it, but he finds his size and figures he’ll hold onto it and debate whether or not he’s going to give into the impulse buy. Returning back to his assigned course, Calum debates if he’s going to go for the reindeer onesies or if he’s going to go for the ones decorated in various trees. “Your mum’s going to kill me if I show up with reindeer onesies, but you’d be cute. Maybe death ain’t so bad.”
It takes a few minutes to consider all the options though, checking out what’s available in all the sizes they’d need. Calum catches the tiny whine Jae starts up with and soothing bounces him. “Okay, bud, I got it. I’ll be quick.”
Calum hopes death comes swift as grabs the reindeer onesies. Calum rushes over to the baby section. He knows without a doubt there are Christmas onesies hanging out. And sure enough, with only a two minutes search, Calum is able to grab Jae a matching outfit too and turns for the registers. On his trek, Calum does put back the button up--he doesn’t need it at the time being.
The line is long. Jae’s settled for the time being, but Calum knows it might not take much to set him off. The cashier’s seem to be working fast so Calum risks it. He steps into line with a deep exhale. The first couple of minutes is goes by without a problem. And he manages to inch up just a little. However, by the time they get halfway through the life, Jae’s earlier whines start back up.
Softy, Calum shushes him, running his free hand up and down Jae’s back. “It’s okay.” If this doesn’t work, Calum will just abandon the line and hope once Jae’s settle he can find the outfits again.
For a minute Jae seems to be settling and the line shuffles up again. However, they seemingly get stuck under/near a speaker hidden in a ceiling tile because the beef between Heat Miser and Snow Miser gets louder and that in turns sets off Jae. A cry spills from his throat. Not ideal, but Calum looks to see how many people are behind him--there’s only a few in front. But the sound of Jae’s cries tells Calum not to push it.
“I gotcha, I gotcha,” Calum whispers to Jae, turning and shimmying past the people in line. He mutters a few apologies and though, he would normally find the rack to place the clothes back on, Calum doesn’t want to take too long in case this is a diaper change cry.
“I know loud noises aren’t a favorite of yours, buddy. We’ll get somewhere quieter, promise.”
Free from the line, Calum shuffles to the bathroom. “Alright, let’s see what’s causing these tears.” It’s partially a diaper change. Though in a clean diaper, Jae doesn’t settle completely. “Hungry?”
It doesn’t hold interest. Calum tries a few other things before just resigning to the fact that it might’ve been sensory overload on Jae’s part. Calum drags Jae’s blanket over his shoulder and nestles him into it. Holding him close to his chest, Calum slips the backpack back onto his shoulder. “Okay, we can go chill out in the car. Try another store--hopefully less crowded.”
The cries haven’t completely stopped but they have faded. Calum doesn’t even glance over to where he stuck the onesies. They’re not important right now, an always be attained at some other point. Right on the mat that leads out of the store, Calum catches some voice shouting, “Sir!”
He doesn’t stop, assuming it’s someone trying to reach someone else. however, another, “Sir!” fills the air and Calum slows, turning his head. He doesn’t spot anyone at first, well not anyone that he recognizes are seems to be trying to get his attention but on a second pass over the faces, an older woman at the register holds up a bag.
“Me?” Calum questions, readjusting Jae quickly and tucking him more into his chest and neck.
The woman waves him over, before quickly turning back to the cashier. Calum steps a step forward, still unsure of what’s happening. He doesn’t know her. He thinks she might’ve been in the line either in front or behind him, but he doesn’t really know at all.
“Is-is everything okay?” Calum tries to see what’s in the bag and then mentally runs through his mind of what he could’ve dropped in line. All the bags from the craft store are in the truck. His phone and wallet are in his pockets, along with his keys.
“I should be asking the little one that,” she grins. Calum studies her face. He’d figure forties at the latest, two younger kids at her side. He wishes he did know her, then this would make this last strange. “Double check that these are all that you needed. Two adult onesies and then one for the baby, right?”
Calum’s heart nearly drops to his ass. “Wh-What?”
“Check that it’s all right,” she returns holding out one bag. The two kids hold bags of their own. “I don’t know if you were getting anything else, all I saw you put back were the onesies.”
“I-I can’t.” Jae wriggles in his arms and Calum sighs for a moment before bouncing him gently. “You really didn’t have to.”
“Well, now, I don’t have to do anything, you’re right. But I wanted too. I’ve been down this road. And the fact that you put your son above all, besides, it’s Christmas.”
Calum doesn’t even think to correct her thoughts on Jae instead he peeks inside the bag to see three outfits and a receipt. “Ma’am, really, I-I don’t know what to say. Thank you. I-I can pay you back.” Calum fumbles for a second to reach his wallet but she stills him with pat on his arm and a smile.
“No need sweetheart. Take care of that handsome one and enjoy your holidays.” With that, she takes a hand of each of the kids with her and then continues on past.
Calum watches her, unsure if it’s real or not. Unsure if he’s really living this. Someone, possibly a manager, comes down to the register he’s standing in front of. “Everything okay, sir?”
“I-yeah. Maybe a Christmas miracle?” he exhales facing them.
It’s another woman with a smile. “She’s a regular here. Does stuff like this all the time.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. The second you got out of line, she was on it trying to get the stuff you put down.” Lined on the front of the registers are a line of gift cards. No good deed should go without something good in return.
He grabs one quickly. “Can I put 50 on this?”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” The question clearly comes as a surprise. Calum knows by now in all his shock he’s not likely to find the woman in the parking lot. As the machine asks him to remove his card, Calum instructors them to use it for the next person in line.
“You sure?”
He nods. “Yes, I’m very sure. Thank you, for taking me.” He grabs the bag and hurries back through the door.
“You really bought reindeer onesies?” Cace sighs, peering into the bag.
Jae sits in a rocker nearby. The moment Calum got him into the car his nerves completely settled and he went back his is normal bubbly self. Calum gulps down a third of the glass of water. “I didn’t buy it. But yes, reindeers.”
“What do you mean you didn’t buy them?”
“The line was long and I got stuck under the speaker in the store. Jae had been getting a tiny fussy beforehand but the music was the tipping point. So I stepped out of line. Just as I got Jae mostly settled, I figured I’d take him out to the car let him completely reset basically before trying again to snag the clothes. A woman in line saw me leave with him and she paid for it. One of the managers or something said she does stuff like that all the time.”
“She what?”
“Yeah, she paid for it while I in the bathroom. I guess the line was moving faster than I thought but I didn’t want to just ignore Jae, so I just made the call to leave line.”
“A Christmas miracle,” Cace returns.
“Something like that. Did you rest well?”
“I didn’t wake up until you called and said you were on your way. So yes, much needed.” Leaning into the kitchen table, Cace uses her foot to add extra bounce for Jae. “I noticed there’s a second adult onesies in there.”
“Sue me. I wanted in on cheesy photos too.”
“Good thing phone cameras come with timers,” she grins. “Sticking around for arts and crafts too? I gotta feed Jae in another half an hour. Or am I still in Mum jail?”
“I’ll stick around. But you’re still in Mum jail, so that means I make Jae’s ornament--you sip on the non-alcoholic bubbly and gingerbread cookies you bought.”
“I do vote pictures first. Because there’s bound to be a mess.”
“Nah, it’ll be fine.” It can be that much of a mess, especially if Calum doesn’t bother with glitter.
“You say that now,” she laughs. “But if you think there won’t be a mess, be my guest. I’m going to sip on non-alcoholic bubbly, eat gingerbread cookies, and enjoy this show.”
Cace pops open the white grape sparkling juice and a fancy wine glass. Her second trip into the kitchen is for the tin of cookies--actually full of cookies--and settles at the kitchen table. She sits opposite of Calum’s ornament crafting setup. And it takes him until Cace has to feed and rather than fussing about with moving to another room, she drapes the privacy blanket over. The amusement is settled in deep on her face as she watches Calum try to sketch out his design.
“I will say, I’m glad you’re a musician,” she teases.
“Ya know what, not everyone can have a Dad who’s like a world renowned artist.”
“Tattoo artist, and trust me the drawing gene skipped me.”
Calum scoffs. “Then you’re talking a lot shit for a non-drawing-gene. But that does explain who you got into legal things.”
Her laughter is sharp. “Something like that. Though I think it might be more about me liking raining on some parades. Besides, who else can you call that will scare your team at just a name-drop?”
Calum points the pen cap in her direction with a nod. “I never suspected that you’d shake grown men to their core. But just the casual mention of you and you’d think they’d seen ghosts.”
Cace winks, readjusting the burping blanket. “I have that effect sometimes.”
“Can I burp him?”
“You’ve stolen my son!”
“Oh c’mon, I’m his Godfather.”
“You now Godfather Cal has a certain ring to it.” Cace turns down her mouth into a frown, dropping the octave in her voice, as she hoists Jae onto . “You come into my house on the day of my daughter’s wedding.”
Calum giggles at her impression but doesn’t push on the burping request. “I still prefer Uncle Cal. Easier to say.”
It’s as Calum can only watch the paint splatter onto the page does he immediately regret not taking Cace’s advice and taking photos first. Jae continues to hammer into the paint and thankfully, Cace doesn’t lose her head about messes. But Calum can only imagine what the green paint is going to look like against her yellow walls.
“Jae, c’mon, work with me,” Calum sighs, lifting his tiny hand and then presses onto the felt. “Your Mum’s going to murder the both of us. But very slowly.”
Cace gasps from the end of the table. “I can hear you you know! I wouldn’t kill either one of you. Just tell you I told you so, repeatedly. Until you’d wish I have of killed you.”
“Just be glad I decided against opening the glitter.”
“Why would you buy glitter, Calum?”
“I don’t know. I was in a craft store. I blacked out and when I came to, there was glitter in my basket.”Jae watches the exchange and slams a hand with paint onto the table. Calum’s sigh is audible and she watches him deflate in the chair. “It’ll come out I promise.”
“Or it doesn’t and I can forever mark that as the spot that Uncle Cal and Jae DIY’ed Christmas ornaments and when I’m old and nothing but skin and bones, I’ll pass the table onto him for his kids to make arts and crafts on and it becomes a legacy.”
Calum feels the wet hand on his chest through his t-shirt and cringes. Cace continues on. “Or what doesn’t come out is that stain on your shirt and you forever think twice about not listening to me. The pictures will be a story to remember. When my dad ask me why does Jae have a green nose and I tell him before pictures were taken he and Calum made ornaments and I advised ornaments second but Calum wanted to do that first and I scrubbed my son down as best as I could, but you know how green paint is.”
“You are not helping,” Calum whispers.
“Oh, no, I’m not. But you’re right. I needed Mum jail.” Her raised eyebrow and pointed sip from her glass tells Calum he’s going to be the one cleaning up and only him.
He doesn’t want her to be right. But even after ornaments are left to dry and he scrubs down Jae there is still a bit of residue, a hint of what color once took up residency on his skin that don’t completely fade reminds Calum to maybe listen to Cace since she’s the one dealing with a baby day in and day out. Though Calum would’ve liked to think he was a pretty good second. He’s there for a lot but there might be some things he hadn’t had to think through just yet on the whole baby front.
His t-shirt is ruined and the battle of baby vomit vs t-shirts should’ve warned Calum to not wear anything he holds too precious. But clothes are just clothes in the grand scheme of things. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Jae.”
Calum gets him into the onesie and settles him into the rocking seat to see what he can do about the wall. The table made it with very minimal damage and Calum’s sure with another passover the little that does remain will come out. Cace kneels on the floor, a bucket beside her and the sounds of scrub hits his hears. “Hey, Mum jail, remember,” Calum returns.
“Oh, I couldn’t let you suffer for that long without helping. I’ll probably have to repaint in some points, or I wait until he gets way older and just let whatever mess he creates exist and possibly turn it into some masterpiece.”
“You said the art gene skipped you.”
She laughs. “I did say possibly. As in an option.”
“I can help you repaint next week.”
“Wanna borrow one of my--what did you call it, an ultimate robe?”
“What are you on about?”
“Undershirt. I call them a white beater. You’ve got tons of them. You called it the ultimate robe in an interview once.”
“You said you didn’t watch those.”
“I don't normally. I saw a clip.”
“And you remembered from how long ago?”
Cace shrugs, dipping her rag into the water at her side. “Who knows at this point? You’re lucky I still remember my own name.”
The thing Calum’s learned about Cace is that’s it’s true. She can hardly ever remember things about herself, but she’s always got it together for those around her. And that’s why he pushed for her to take today--because she needed the time for herself. And even if it’s hard because of a baby he still wants to be the one there for her. He would always have her back. He’d buy cheesy matching onesies and hold bells behind the camera to get Jae to look up and he’d fake pose decorating an already decorated Christmas tree and he’d hoist Jae into his arms and tickle the little boy’s side and he’d take the most unflattering pictures of Cace only to make it up with the most flattering ones right after if it meant that at the end of it all, she knew he had her back.
Cace reclines into Calum’s side, Jae seated in her lap. The phone’s still counting down but she’s not worried about that. She looks up, watching Calum watching her. “I’m not the camera,” he teases.
“Nah, but you’re a close second.”
Calum kisses the top of her head, mostly aware of the shutter of the camera. “I’ll take that. Though I should be number one. Now actually face the camera once I set this up again.”
“No promises,” Cace laughs. Though she does look at the camera the second time. She can faintly see the slightly out of focus string lights on the trees. And inside the square it’s bound to be picturesque. There’s no walls with green paint or t-shirts ruined, or still open can of cookies that she absolutely thought she had covered and put back up. And maybe it’s okay if perfection only exist inside that square. And maybe it’s okay if her house is a mess and she’s a mess, and Calum’s a mess because at least she had the few people that cared around still.
********
Joy hadn’t anticipated seeing Calum’s handwriting on a letter just yet. His card usually came with him in person. But she doesn’t let the curiosity simmer too long and flips over the white envelope to pop the golden sticker holding it close. A beautiful white, gold and green card greets her, with Merry Christmas on it.
When she open the card, a couple photos slip down and she can see the black ink with Calum’s telling handwriting. She spies Cace and Jae standing in front of a tree, a decorating dangling in her hand. The second photo is Cace, Calum and Jae seated on the floor, smiling with the twinkling lights fading in the background. There’s a third of Calum and Jae too. All three of them matching with reminders antlers poking out from the hood of their pj’s.
The typography of the inside of the card is the same as the outside, Season Greetings. But just above it is a note, from Cace, Jae, and Calum. And then just below the standard greeting of the card is more from Calum.
Hi Mum,
I know this card normally comes with me attached but I didn’t want to forget to send these pictures.
I made Cace take a day and partially it was successful. Another part was disastrous. Disaster struck with paint and ornaments but I know you said you wanted more pictures of Jae too. These felt appropriate. He’s getting bigger, like everytime I blink he’s in a new size. I don’t know how Cace does it. How she just watches him everyday and doesn’t worry that time is moving too fast. Maybe she does worry and does her best just to focus on the day at hand. I don’t know how you did it with Mali and me. I’m sure it was the same thing--everyday just us shooting up with almost no end in sight. You’ll be happy to know Cace and Jae are doing well too. She started work again and takes him most days. Some days she drops him off at a daycare. He seems to handle it well for now. Soon, she says she’ll be dropping him off more than half the week at the daycare. So we’ll know for sure how Jae feels about that when that happens.
Send me some Oz summer. I wasn’t sure I was ready to jump into onesies just yet and even after this pictures, I still don’t think I am. Love you and miss you.
Calum.
#calum hood#calum hood fanfic#calum hood fic#calum hood blurb#calum hood fluff#h writes#h writes christmas 2020#5sos#5sos fanfic#5sos fic#5sos imagine#5 seconds of summer#5 seconds of summer fanfic#5 seconds of summer fic#5 seconds of summer blurb#calum hood x oc#OC included
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OP!Anon for Leverage!HX/LQG: *SCREAM* oh I adore how you wrote this - HX is so good at reading everyone and understanding how to motivate/manipulate them, except for lqg. I love how angry he got at the idea of lqg seeing him in the same light as swd, and also how lqg's just like, yep, swd's gotta die when he heard the full story. I love the idea of HC coming in like the king he is and laying down the law about XL. ahhhhhhh!!!! just imagining hx and lqg getting close after lots of shenanigans!
teamwork baby
"Xue Yang must die" is literally one of my favorite WWX quotes of all time LMFAO time to pay homage
so you know how in book 3, during the Black Water arc, HX is there trying to push his whole scheme forward? It's well-timed, well-thought-out, but the only fucking spanner that keeps jumping back into his work is XL-and-therefore-HC? Yeah I imagine working with grifter!HC is pretty much like that. He's always late or never shows up at all to briefings, or he shows up to the very end to hear the conclusion and goes "Nope, that's fucking stupid, change it." SQQ's like "Why??" and HC's like "oh, lil boy can't figure it out?"
and whenever they have an actual plan going, HC sometimes just shows up and starts doing his own thing in the middle and forces HX to keep up. This is often motivated by one of XL's jobs, and XL would ask if HC knows a little piece of intel, and HC would be like "oh you know what, I actually have a hostage right here to ask about that, one moment please :)" and utterly prioritize XL's thing. HX has to change the job on the fly so many times, and it's so fucking annoying, but it's not like HC leaves him at a dead end, so he always does find a way out.
(this got fucking long, but HX/LQG under the cut)
Bingliushen are also annoyed as fuck, but while they're godtier at their own things, none of them are mastermind-level (yet—Binghe's gonna get there, isn't he), so they just have to put their faith in HX and keep chugging forward. This is how the foundation builds, y'know? HX insists to both others and himself that he's being honest and faithful to his team because that's just the best way to handle them, not 'cause he's actually a team player and not 'cause he cares for anybody at all. And LQG's a simple guy—you save my life, I'll save yours. You act in good faith, I'll be loyal in turn.
It starts with something small. HX's suffered tremendous loss, and has been on his own for a very, very long time. He's used to taking care of himself, but we all know LQG's love language is "here, you dropped this. I've been quietly paying attention to everything you like and do, no big deal." So maybe it happens on a mission. HC has three marks to dupe in succession, and they're playing a nasty Big Pharma group, so it's hitting close to home for HX. At the last minute though, HC says over the comm, "the CEO & CFO made me. Must've recognized me from speaking to the secretary earlier. He Xuan."
"Can you still do the COO?"
"I'm not about to waste this outfit, am I."
and HX has to hop in and do 2/3rds of the grifting himself, which is fine, he's completely capable of this, he's a goddamn prodigy at hiding his murderous tendencies. but out of nowhere LQG is on the line, "Shen Qingqiu, you said you can hack the finances, right?"
"Yes, but nothing else."
"Then He Xuan doesn't have to talk to the CFO. Give me 2 minutes, I'll knock him out."
and HX doesn't stop him because sure, why not? It was more efficient for HC to do three of them at once, but now that it was HX doing it (and HX still has his own part to play), it would save them more effort if LQG goes for the blunt force solution. But it rubs HX the wrong way—what the fuck? Yeah, HX may not like grifting as much as HC, the stupid drama queen, but hasn't he proven himself every bit as capable of it? Why did LQG think it necessary to, what, bail him out?
So that night, after debrief, HX pulls LQG aside to give him a piece of his mind. "Don't ever try to override my judgment again." "What are you talking about?" "I made a call, I did not need your 'help' on the grift." "That wasn't help." "Then what was it." "You hate talking to guys like that!" "???" "You didn't need to talk to him, and I was right there. It was the obvious thing to do."
and HX still doesn't get it, not until the next day, when SQQ and HX are quietly setting up for the morning, and SQQ says out of the blue, "that's just how he cares. Liu Qingge, I mean. It's never an ego thing once he's your friend."
"I don't need friends," is HX's automatic response.
"No," SQQ snorts in agreement. "You need revenge. That's fine. Then I'm sure he'll get over it."
Which—okay—no? Bastard. That's just a passive aggressive attempt at a guilt trip, and it's not going to work. HX has already made it abundantly clear from the get-go that this was simply a job, he was the pointman, once they were done everybody will go on their way. It's not his fault SQQ dragged in a hitman with the loyalty instincts of a german shepherd, and it's certainly none of his business whether LQG treats him as friend or a colleague.
LQG will just have to be disappointed.
BUT OF COURSE WHAT GOES ON TO HAPPEN IS THAT HX sees more and more of the things LQG does, the ways LQG manages to be thoughtful. The way LQG handles visitors during HX’s mealtimes despite how much LQG hates talking to randos, bc HX has bad food days and can’t really stand eating with others. The time they had some time to kill undercover in a consultant’s office, and HX passed the time by pointing out all the things wrong with the office’s mini-aquarium set-up, so when SQQ brought up something inane about decorating their headquarters, LQG made HX draw up specs for a saltwater tank of their own. HX and everybody else kept insisting it was a waste of time, but LQG still went ahead and got it made anyways, and now it’s HX’s favorite thing in the entire HQ.
But HX wasn’t about to owe anybody anything. If LQG insists on this game, then fine, HX was going to play to win. He requisitions new toys (read: weapons) for LQG, he builds heists around the sole purpose of giving LQG a room of satisfying bad guys to beat up, he goes to the gym and spars with LQG, he even tries to give LQG’s weirdly famous younger sister’s novel a read—which was a lot. Ahem. But LQG loves his younger sister, so surely this would be the ultimate “hah! I’ve given you more than you’ve given me! I win! move.
...turns out LQG’s never read the damn thing, and just takes everything HX gives him in total stride. “We still on for tomorrow?” “...Yes.” “Cool. See you.” And HX’s over here totally overthinking EVERYTHING while LQG’s just chilling, super matter-of-fact.
Fuck, were they friends???
HX rage-panics, because he does. not. need. friends. And it has nothing to do with how everyone he’s ever loved dies, it has nothing to do with the careful balance of vengeful fury and self-hatred inside him that’s about to tip over any day now, once they take down SWD. It has nothing to do with HX being too traumatized and grief-stricken to imagine moving on from revenge, to ever imagine being simply content again.
His eating habits get worse. One day he snaps at LQG for pining so much after SQQ. “You already know he’s never going to return your feelings. It’s embarrassing to watch you insist on giving so much when he’s not going to give anything back.”
“Shut up,” LQG snaps, “it’s not about getting anything back.”
But that makes it worse. Of course HX wasn’t actually talking about SQQ, though sure, that’s annoying too. LBh obviously knows, so why can’t they take their infernal flirting somewhere private, instead of flaunting it in front of LQG all the time?? But the fault’s with LQG too, what with all the giving. He should find someone more worthy of his affections and stop wasting his time here.
HX cuts everything he and LQG has built up in one fell swoop—completely gives him the cold shoulder. Only ever talks about work, no more dry quips, no more infodumps on niche hobbies. HX wishes he could destroy the tank at HQ, but that would be way too confrontational at this stage.
Until one mission, when LQG knows HX is not in a good place, and keeps trying to argue HX out of doing something excessively risky. HX rounds on him and says, “you’re just a hired gun, so shut up and shoot where I'm pointing, or you can pack your things and get out.”
LQG goes red, then white, and storms away.
“Nice sucker punch,” HC comments idly where he’s lounging on the side. Who knows when the fuck he showed up. “Right where it hurts.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t tell me you don’t know. His five-year stint with the Sha City Demons?”
Of course HX knows about that. He’s looked thoroughly into everybody’s backgrounds. But what does that have to do with this?
“Gege is the best at this, after all. See you and I, we stopped asking questions once we knew the name, because we don’t think people are ever as pure and good as they pretend to be. But you know what Dianxia said, after I mentioned Liu Qingge’s old gig to him? ‘Five years, hm? I wonder what they had on him. In my experience, men like Liu Qingge don’t work for crews like the Sha Demons. And in order to sink their claws deeper into men like him, the Demons always make them do the worst jobs.’ Just a hired gun indeed.”
That’s right. LQG gets a Moreau backstory of his own. HX feels his heart sink to the pit of his stomach.
“Fuck.”
“I don’t know why you’re so stressed out about it. He is just a hired gun—”
“You know why. Fuck.”
“So get out of my face and do something about it already. You know where he’s gone, I know you’ve put trackers on your entire team.”
“...”
“You didn’t? No, you didn’t put one on him? My god, you do care.”
While HC’s busy sounding disgusted, HX is reeling. He just sent the best hitman in the field packing, and was an absolute dick about it. He was not a kind man, but he also wasn’t a cruel one. He believes in fairness, and everything he said simply had not been fair. It had all been his own guilt and issues talking; if he really didn’t give a damn, then he wouldn’t have...done all this.
“How much are you willing to pay?” HC says, swiping at his phone.
“What?”
“Because I don’t trust any of you, and did put a tracking device on Liu Qingge.” He sure has—HC is waving the loading tracking app in HX’s face. “So I’m asking, how much are you willing to pay?”
...And that’s the reason why HX owes HC so much damn money.
#leverage AU#he xuan#lqg#anon this is so much fun TTTTTT#i'm about to rewatch leverage 'cause of you
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It Was a Day Out
The misadventures of Suey and Mary on a lovely fall day. Are they still a hot mess? FIND OUT
(Part: 1; 2; 3; 4; 5; 6; 7)
*breathplay*
It’s one of those rare weekdays where both you and Mary are free of your obligations. A successful gig the night before has the band taking the day off from practice, and an industry conference has the firm you’re working for offline. It’s a crisp Fall day where you can smell both the sunshine and the decaying leaves in the air, where you can almost be tricked into getting away with a t-shirt until you walk into the shade.
You knew he had a big gig, so you weren’t expecting to see him until late afternoon—if at all—so when you’d startled awake from him banging your front door open, his presence was a surprise. You’d barely even comprehended the first slam before Mary was bursting into your bedroom like people had to see it from the back row.
“It’s a beautiful fucking day and I’m here to cartoon bird you. Get up!”
You blink at him and say, “You’re a monster. I’m breaking up with you,” then bury your head under your pillow. You’re surprised when your covers are yanked off, and you yelp, grabbing after them way too late—you definitely aren’t wearing clothes.
“Oh … what do we have here?”
You try to get your pillow over you, but Mary is too fast—crawling over you and effectively pinning you down. The leather of his jacket quickly warms to your skin, but his pins and zippers bite into your skin.
Mary touches his nose to yours. “Hi.”
“Hi,” you say back.
When he doesn’t move, you say, “Can I get dressed now?”
“Hmm,” he hums as he pretends to survey the situation. “I kinda like you as you are. Naked. At my mercy. Feels almost a crime not to take advantage of it.”
You wriggle. “I thought you wanted to go out.”
He grins at you. “I’m flexible.” He sits up so he can reach behind him, and you’d suddenly feel his fingers searching for your slit.
“Mary!” you yelp as you jerk under him.
When he finally slips in a finger, he finds you dry, and he makes an exaggerated gasp.
“Well, we can’t have that, now can we?”
“You’re incorrigible.”
He gives a vulgar thrust of his hips and says, “I know what gets you wet,” before kneeing up your body until his crotch is in your face. “Take me out.”
You fumble with his belt and zipper before slipping your hand into the slit of his boxers. Mary’s cock is half hard—hot to the touch—and he moans as you wrap your hand around him. By the time you get him out of his pants, he’s almost fully erect. You give him a few loose strokes, and his head rolls back before he says, “Suck me.”
Though the angle is awkward, you suck him into your mouth, twirling your tongue around the tip while simultaneously stroking his shaft.
“Yeah. Just like that.”
You flick your eyes up to him; his eyes are glazed eyes and he’s biting his bottom lip.
“Oh, fuck—I love it when you look at me.”
You continue to suck him as best you can—casting your eyes up at him whenever you remember—as Mary rocks his hips in time. When you press your tongue into his sweet spot, he groans, then leans forward to settle his arms on either side of you. He starts fucking into your mouth, and you let your hand fall away, hooking your lips over your teeth and pressing the flat of your tongue into the underside of his cock. He grunts in approval as he takes his pleasure from your mouth.
When you feel his dick throb, he slows, then stops.
“Fuck,” he pants. “I can’t decide if I’d rather cum down your throat or in your cunt.”
He slowly rocks into your mouth, letting out little Mmms as he rubs against your tongue. You take a deep breath and hum around him, causing Mary to moan hard. He growls and starts fucking your mouth faster.
“You want me to fuck your face then? Shove my cock down your throat? Be careful what you wish for, little girl.”
You hum again, and he just grunts as he tries to stick his dick as far into you as possible. Repeatedly. When his hips start to stutter, you dig your teeth-wrapped lips into him harder. He gives a choked off cry—and you briefly taste the salt of his cum—before he pulls out to shoot the rest on your tits, eyes fixed and tongue peeking out. Once he slows, you curl forward—mouth open—and he rubs his cockhead over your lips and tongue as he softens.
Finished, he rolls off you, reaching for the travel pack of tissues you used to carry around in your purse before it seemed to find permanent residence on your night table. He pulls out a few to hand to you, then tucks himself back into his jeans.
As you wipe at yourself, you say archly, “I thought the point was to cum down my throat?”
May turns on his side, propping himself up on his one arm as the other reaches out to thumb at a nipple.
“Most girls really appreciate it when their boyfriends give them a pearl necklace.”
You just narrow your eyes at him before shoving the wadded tissues into his face. He lets out an Ack as he hastens to grab them away. While he’s distracted, you take the opportunity to swing your leg over his hips to straddle him. His gaze meets yours, and you ruck up his shirt so that you can smear your slick on his concave stomach—having his cock in your mouth has made you soft and wet.
“Shall I make a mess of you now?”
When he just blinks at you, you work your way up his torso, carefully maneuvering around the sharp points of his pins.
“I’m going to grease your chin.”
As you press the folds of your cunt to his mouth, Mary’s arms come up behind you to push you into him. His eyes immediately close as he parts his own lips to worm his tongue into yours. You ride his face, grinding down when you want more pressure and rocking against him when you want more movement—the whisper of slight stubble scratching against your sensitive skin. The closer you get, the faster you rock, and the more your thighs begin to tremble at the strain.
Without warning, Mary throws you off—but then he’s right there again, grabbing your thighs and pulling you to the edge of the bed. His mouth suctions back onto you, his tongue lapping at your now-throbbing clit, as he inserts two fingers into you.
You relax into the bed and moan out loudly at the dual sensation—and that’s before he starts tapping at your G-spot. You let Mary take over, losing yourself in the pleasure while noisily conveying your approval. Soon you’re close—clutching at your sheets like a lifeline—and Mary speeds up his ministrations. Your climax builds up slow and sweet—and you know you're going to get there even as you tense, back locking and breath catching.
Mary feels your tells, and he starts flicking at your engorged nub in a quickened pace. When you cum—sparks bursting behind your eyes—you clamp your thighs on his head and buck up, Mary doing his best to follow.
Coming down, you let your limbs sprawl out and open, half expecting Mary to use the opportunity to fuck you. (You hope he’ll let you take a nap while he does.) But he just wipes off his lips and chin with the inside of his collar, smearing his already-ruined white face further. He crawls over you again, blanketing you with his body, and sighs.
“I could probably fuck you right now. If you wanted.”
“Nap.”
“K.”
You grope for an edge of a sheet or blanket, but—in the end—Mary’s the one to throw the covers over you both. When you awaken 30min later, it’s because one arm is half asleep and there are dull aches where Mary’s sharp edges had been pressing into you. You push at him with your feet, and when Mary just grumbles, you kick harder.
“Jesus, what? I thought you wanted to sleep.”
You squirm. “Uncomfortable.”
“Pain in my fucking ass,” he mumbles, but instead of just rolling off you, he keeps going, yanking the covers off in such a way that you’re suddenly a mass of limbs on the floor.
As you sputter, he just laughs and says, “Oh good! You’re up!”
You clamber to your feet trying not to stumble in your sheets, and Mary breezes past, slapping you on the ass.
"C’mon, baby doll—let’s go get some vitamin D.”
“Didn’t you just give me that, Mare?”
He looks at you over his shoulder. “You’re stealing my jokes, and I don’t appreciate it.”
You end up pulling on one of his XL graphic tees—off the hook in your bathroom—and a pair of electric-blue fleece tights. At Mary’s grumbling, you yank on your thigh-length, lace leggings over them.
The two of you playfully fight for mirror space as you put on your Day Face and Mary does his best to repair his. Despite him chomping at the bit like an overeager puppy to get out the door, he still finds time to sidle up behind you to squeeze your curves through the t-shirt. (“What? I just wanted to see if you felt as good as you looked.”)
You try not to feel like a Rock Star as you walk down the street—you in your worn, retro-jacket you found in dollar-a-pound & cat sunglasses, Mary in his leather jacket and various studded belts—but for better or worse, you’re getting a lot of attention.
Or maybe that’s because Mary is kind of a rock star.
Whatever.
You’re cute as fuck.
Mary mostly wants to trawl the record stores and argue with pawnbrokers over the price of guitars—which he definitely needed to wake your ass up at the crack of before noon to do—but you still find plenty of merch to engage with.
At one pawn shop you trill out a bastardized version of Toccata and Fugue in D Minor on a keyboard, jumping 5ft in the air when Mary appears from nowhere.
“You play?”
You yank your hands away from the instrument.
“No,” is your knee-jerk response, but then you lightly run your hand over the keys. “I mean, not anymore.” You flick the power switch off.
You make your way out of the shop, and you can feel Mary’s restrained interest. You sigh heavily.
“I didn’t say anything!” he says, hands up placatingly.
“You were thinking it really loudly, though.”
He shrugs, and the two of you walk in silence for a beat before you run your arm through his.
“Suzuki Method. It was supposed to help my language skills. Enjoying it was an unexpected consequence.”
Mary angles his head to squint at you.
“Consequence?”
“When my father was in a mood, he’d pry the black keys off. I got very good with wood glue.” You pause. “Apparently they destroyed it. At least, they sent me a box filled with broken keys.”
Mary stops walking, causing you to jolt to a stop as well.
“What. The. Fuck.”
“Yep,” you shrug. “They'd rather destroy something than give it away.”
You slip your arm free so you can continue on down the sidewalk, and Mary follows until you’re both walking side by side again. When you don’t continue speaking, he looks at you for a moment.
“So you know Mum raised me.”
“Yeah,” you say as you take his hand and run your thumb over the ring of hers he wears. He interlocks your fingers before mashing both your hands into his pocket.
“Don’t know much about dad, though. I barely remember him. He has a string of families, apparently. I’ve got all these half siblings strewn about the country. But they don’t seem real, you know? Just names and addresses scrawled across index cards and on the back or receipts. I guess I could reach out. But.”
He lets the thought hang.
“You don’t have to explain to me, Mare.”
“Thanks.”
The two of you walk another block before Mary pulls you into a store that’s half comics, half records. You make to tell him that you’ll be by the graphic novels, but he’s already making a beeline toward his intended goal and waving you off.
You’re just finishing browsing the rickety wireframe housing the zines, when you hear Mary exclaim, “Hey, dude! It’s been forever!”
“Mary, my dude.” Comes another voice. “I just got back! Awesome show last night, by the way! But where’d you run off to? The guys were frustratingly unhelpful.”
You meander around the corner just in time to see Mary embrace and back slap a blonde-haired dude in the standard uniform of skinny jeans and leather jacket. Mary leans back a little.
“Believe it or not I’m not this beautimous on my own. Gotta get my vitamin Zzz.”
The guy narrows his eyes and lets go, wrinkling his nose.
“Sleep, huh? Is that why you smell like pussy?”
You sidle over.
“He smells like pussy because I sat on his face this morning,” you say with a sly smile.
The guy scrunches his face at you as Mary jerks in surprise to find you right there.
“You letting the groupies follow you home now, Goore?”
You tense as your face flushes.
Mary quickly slings his arm around your shoulders, holding you in place. “This is my girlfriend,” he says lowly.
“No shit,” the guy says. His face contorts through a journey you can’t interpret. His eyes flick back to Mary. “Really?”
“Yeah. Really,” says Mary.
The guy scrutinizes you closer, and you’re suddenly feeling less like a rock star and more like a conquest in last night’s clothes; you shift uneasily.
“You gotta problem, Aaron?” says Mary.
“Just … since when do you have a fucking girlfriend?”
You say Three months just as Mary says, “You haven’t been around in a while.”
Mary turns to you. “I thought it was four?”
“Since that night in August?”
“I was counting that night at Sixes & Sevens in June.”
“Where?”
“Mickey’s place.”
You scrunch your nose at him.
“You want to count that?”
“Why not?”
You can’t think of a rebuttal, so you raise your hands.
“You know what? I just remembered I don’t care.” You give him jazz hands. “Four months it is”
“You’re a bitch.”
You beam at him. “Thanks!”
“No distractions, huh,” mumbles Aaron.
Remember Aaron?
The two of you turn back to him. He’s hunched into himself a little, hands crammed into his pockets.
“Suey isn’t a distraction,” says Mary.
Aaron gives you an exaggerated once over.
“Yeah, I can see that.
Heat quickens in your veins, and you slip in front of Mary to stand arms akimbo.
“Ok, that’s enough. I think it’s time for you to drive through.”
“Suey,” sighs Mary as Aaron half laughs, half snorts.
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll do something you won’t like.”
He does laugh then.
“I’d listen to her,” rumbles Mary, even as you feel his hands come to rest on your arms.
“Yeah? I’d like to see you try.”
You feel Mary clamp down on your arms, but you don’t need mobility to hock your saliva and spit it in Aaron’s face. He freezes in shock as Mary hisses, Jesus Christ, Suey. Aaron wipes his face and looks at you disbelievingly. You stare hard at him with your eyes. Then he just starts laughing—it’s not a kind laugh.
“Oh my god, Mary. You’re dating yourself.”
“Fuck off already” you say.
“Wow dude, good luck that. She’s a feral little thing, isn’t she?”
“You were being a massive dick,” says Mary.
“See you around, Goore,” says Aaron as he stalks out of the store.
Mary’s eyes follow him—and your gut clenches for a second when you think Mary might leave you and run after him—but he makes no movement towards the door. He does look down at you, frowning.
“You’re a fucking menace, you know that? Try not to piss off all my friends, ok?”
You shrug. “Are you mad?”
He rubs your arms. “It’s not like I wasn’t five seconds away from doing something if he insulted you one more time. But Christ, Suey. You’re gonna get stabbed one day.”
“Whatever.”
“C’mon,” he says as he puts his arm around your shoulders again.
The two of you leave—whatever Mary came in for long forgotten—and amble down the sidewalk in the early-afternoon sun.
“Was it serious?” you ask after a while.
Mary stops. “Get sliced with a broken bottle? No, just a few stitches.”
“Wait—what?!”
“What?”
“I was talking about Aaron, but can we rewind to you getting stabbed with broken glass?!”
Mary shrugs. “Typical drunk meathead saying some shit. Turned a fist fight into a shitshow.”
He pulls up his shirt and points to the raised crescent above his hip, the one you often trace with your tongue. You trace it now with your finger before he lowers his shirt again.
“Jesus, Mary.” You wrap your arms around him. “Don’t go getting stupid like that again, ok?”
He returns your embrace, huffing out a laugh. “I won’t if you won’t, champ.”
“Yeah yeah, fine. Ok.” You slip out of his arms and jab a finger at him. “But you’re changing the subject.”
“Aaron?”
“Yes.”
Mary presses the heel of his hands into his eye sockets. He removes his hands, sees the black on them, rubs them on his jeans, and tips his head back to look up at the sky.
“I like Aaron. He’s a good dude.”
“Ok. But?”
His head tips down.
“He hasn’t been around because he’s been following another band. That’s what he does. He gloms onto bands. We all had some good times with him … but for him it’s all about status. He fixated on me the second he realized I write the songs.”
“You rebuffed him.”
“Well …”
“Oh no …”
Mary shrugs. “He was a good time.”
“Mary, you cad!”
Mary scowls at you.
“Can we just fucking drop it?”
“Oh shit—he’s not going to sue you for palimony or anything is he?”
“I said fucking stop.”
“Yeah, ok,” you say as you give his arm a kiss.
The two of you continue on, content to fog up display glasses while window shopping and playing “what if” until Mary feels you hesitate in front of an ice cream shoppe.
“You want?”
You give him a careful shrug.
“Maybe.”
He considers you, before sighing.
“All right, c’mon … but take your lactaid this time—you’re a bitch to deal with when it goes right through you.”
“Don’t be gross.”
“I won’t be gross if you won’t be gross first.”
He orders you both cones. When you see him scrounging for change in his pockets, you try to pay, but he just elbows away.
“I can buy you an ice cream cone.”
You lean into him. “Of course you can, Mare bear—I was just trying to be efficient.” You stick a hand in his back pocket and squeeze his ass. “I can help search too.”
He makes a tetch noise at you and waves you outside. You lightly bite his bicep before trouncing out of the store and finding a bench in the park across the street. In the direct sunlight it’s quite warm, and you shrug out of your coat as you sprawl over the bench. You imagine that you’re a lizard, soaking up the heat to store for later.
You must doze off a little, because suddenly Mary is beside and jostling you.
“Fuck. Take your ice cream before it melts down my hand.”
You sit up and grab the melting item from him. When you give his sticky fingers a lap, he gives you an exasperated look.
“Tease.”
You shrug. “Just helping.”
“Mmm.”
The two of you eat your cones while arguing about the subjectivity of art and authorial intent vs death of the author as applied to all creators.
“Ok,” you say, “but—can’t you agree that once you put art there in the world it’s subject to the observer effect? Once your audience consumes it, it intrinsically changes?”
Mary huffs. “That’s all well and good for fine art and Hawthorne—but as a songwriter—I have to say my meaning is my meaning. My subtext is my subtext. I’m loath to think someone out there could be interpreting my lyrics about dismantling the construct of social norms to actually be a call to maintain them!”
“You don’t think Hawthorne would be just as distressed to find his symbolism about morality within the human psyche misinterpreted as misogynistic theory? But he can’t stop it once it’s out there. The creator basically creates a Schrödinger's cat of intention! Until their audience consumes it, the art is both what the creator intended and what the audience interprets. I’d absolutely say the same as lyrical intention!”
Mary scoffs. He’s gearing up for a rebuttal when he falters, his attention suddenly elsewhere. He turns his head, and you follow his line of sight: there’s a little boy, standing not too far from your park bench, alone and wide-eyed. As you push your sunglasses onto your head, Mary slips off the bench and squats by the boy.
“Well. Hello, little man. I’m Mary.”
He holds out his hand, but the boy just stares at him.
“Where’s your mommy?”
The little boy looks around, lip trembling.
“Hey, it’s cool. We’ll find her. What’s your name, dude?”
“Jake,” says the small voice.
“Nice to meet you, Jake.”
Jake points at Mary’s face.
“You’re Halloween,” he says.
“That’s right,” says Mary. “I like to play make believe. Do you like to play make believe?”
Jake’s eyes brighten and he nod vigorously. Mary nods with him.
“That’s so cool, Jake. Do you want to play ‘investigators’?”
Jake nods.
“Awesome. Now, where was the last place you saw your mom? Take a good look around, ok?”
The boy’s head swivels as he looks around the park. He considers before pointing toward the joggers area.
“Ok, Jake. Let’s go investigate, all right? Hold my hand, ok?”
You shift. “Should I…?”
“I’ll be right back, Suey.”
Jake focuses his eyes on you, then flick back up to Mary, questioning.
“That’s my girlfriend.”
“Ew,” says Jake.
You make an exaggerated face as Mary chuckles.
“Yeah, she’s pretty gross. But,” he says in a stage whisper, “don’t tell her I said that.”
Jake shakes his head, and the two of them take off across the grass, hand in hand. Halfway there a woman in bright workout gear comes sprinting across the gap. You watch, frowning, as the woman points and yells at Mary, grabbing her son to her and shielding him. Mary puts his hands up and backs away, even as the woman jabs at the air between them. The woman hurries herself and Jake away. When Jake turns around to wave, Mary waves back, but it’s cut short when his mom wrenches his hand down and ushers him out of the park and away. You watch as Mary stands there for a few more seconds, before he turns and starts his way back to you.
When he gets back to the bench, you reach for his hand.
“Mare—”
“Let’s just go,” he says as he grabs up his jacket from the bench.
You scramble after him. He has his hands shoved into his pockets, and you don’t try to thread your arm through his. You follow him out of the park, hurrying to keep up as he strides down the sidewalk. After a while you say,
“You’re good with kids.”
He spins around on you.
“And that’s such a fucking surprise is it? Scary Mary Goore isn’t a total dick?”
“N-no … I just—”
“Wearing makeup and being in a band means I can’t like kids?”
“I didn’t—it just that not being good with kids myself—”
“Yeah, well. You’re a little self-absorbed.”
You stop walking. “Wow. Ok.”
Mary looks over his shoulder. “See? Here’s where you make this all about yourself.”
You know he’s not angry with you. You know. But you still can’t stop yourself from digging a 5 dollar bill out of your pocket and throwing it at him.
“For the fucking ice cream.”
You turn and try not to stomp away. If he wants to be in a snit, that’s on him. You don’t need to subject yourself to it. And you don’t need to be beholden to him in any way. Mary and his fucking moods.
You’re about a block away when Mary’s voice next to you startles you out of your funk.
“Don’t fucking throw money at me.”
Mary crowds into your space and tries to press the $5 back into your hand, even as you pull away.
“No. I don’t want to owe you anything.
Mary catches your arm. “Why would you owe me anything.”
You shake free and snarl, “Tell me I’m wrong, then! Tell me some part of you wasn’t thinking how dare I be such a bitch and after you bought me ice cream too. Look me in the face and tell me that!”
Mary falters. It’s just for a second. Just a second, but it’s enough. You jab at him again.
“That woman was a bitch—and I hate it for you—but I’m not your fucking punching bag, Mary. I’ll walk away every time.”
Mary seems to crumple in on himself. You exhale and pinch the bridge of your nose.
“I don’t want to fight with you, Mare. But I won’t take your bullshit. Now, c’mere.”
You hold out your arms—Mary looking at you as if this might be some trick—but then he hunches over and lets you enfold him in your arms. You rock him a little, the way he tries to do to you.
“You suck at this shit.”
“I know.” You rock him a bit more before stopping. “I’m sorry I threw money at you. I know you’re not mad at me.”
You curl your hand into his to take it back, but he yanks it away from you,
“Nuh-uh,” he says as he moves away and crosses his arms. “I’m keeping this as ‘asshole tax’ as you like to say.”
You gape at him as he tries hard not to crack a smile.
“Whatever. Let’s go back to my place. It’s getting chilly and I’m hungry.”
“You just had ice cream.”
“That’s a completely different stomach.”
“That sounds legit for sure.”
You thrust out your hand, and he’s quick to take it, stuffing both yours and his back into his pocket.
After walking in silence for a while you say, “Children scare me.”
Mary glances over at you. “Scare you?”
“Yeah. They’re just so. Impressionable. And fragile. And they’re like little psychopaths you have to be nice to.”
“I think they’re fun. They give zero fucks about what they say—sometimes it’s weird-ass shit and other times it’s like they cut right through the bullshit. They love getting dirty and the world hasn’t crushed their sense of whimsy yet. I’ll take playing in the creek with them over a band meeting any day.”
“That’s so on brand Mary. I bet you caught frogs as a tot, didn’t you?”
He gives you a mock glare. “You don’t know my life.”
“I bet you can’t—” You cut yourself off before you can finish with wait to play with your own.
“I can’t what?”
“Nothing.”
“No, what?”
“Nothing.”
Mary stops. “Well, now I know it’s something.”
Your hand slips out of his grasp, and you wrap your arms around yourself.
“I—you just. I didn’t think about you thinking about kids.”
He squints at you. “Thinking about kids?”
You make a curt gesture. “Having them.”
The two of you stare at each other.
“Because you …” Mary starts.
“Because I?”
“… want them?”
“Do you?”
“I asked you first.”
“I implied it first.”
Mary’s eyes are boring into yours, and your heart is beating in your ears.
“Fuck,” he says. “I don’t wanna break up.” He takes your hands in his.
“Should we not say?”
“No, we gotta.”
You realize that you’re trembling.
“Shit, Mare.”
Mary pulls you into him.
“Ok, fuck. I’ll say it.” He takes a deep breath. “Never. I never want kids.”
Wait.
You must not have heard him right.
You pull away from him, furrowing your eyebrows.. “You … never want children?”
Mary’s face contorts. “I’m so sorry—”
You slap his chest and burst into relieved laughter.
“Oh thank god.”
He’s just looking at you blankly.
“Oh my god, Mare. That whole speech? I thought you wanted kids!”
“You don’t…?
“Jesus, no. I can barely take care of myself.”
“But one day …”
You just shake your head. “Everything’s hard and exhausting all the time. If it ever gets better, I don’t want to dive back in.”
Mary just shakes his head.
“Fuck. I miss smoking sometimes. Let’s go.”
“What about you?” you ask as you thread your arm through his.
He shrugs. “I’ll be the cool uncle til the cows come home, but I’m fucking selfish. I want to see the world, and sleep in on my days off, and fuck when I want to.
“A lot of people do all those things.”
“A lot of those people have means.”
You’re on your couch, still in Mary’s oversized shirt and a pair of boy shorts, laying on your stomach as you flip through one of those books that’s supposed to make you a better person. Your crossed calves rest in Mary’s lap (he’s similarly in his t-shirt and boxer briefs), and one of his hands long ago snuck up under your shorts and now rests cupping your one ass cheek. He flips through your cable and complains that there’s nothing on.
“Seriously, though. Why do you even have cable? I’m the only one who watches it.”
You put your finger in the book to mark your place as you look over your shoulder.
“Because it’s cheaper.”
He squints at you.
“Having cable is cheaper?”
You roll over. His hand just glides to your thigh.
“Having cable is cheaper with high-speed internet—which I need in order to work from home—than having basic cable.”
“Really?”
“Yep. It’s good for you and your WWE addition, though.”
“Hmm.”
His hand kneads at your thigh, but his gaze is far away.
“What?”
He gives you a measured look.
“Ok. Look. I don’t actually know what it is you do.”
“You … don’t?”
“In my defense every time I bring it up, you just make a snoring noise and change the subject.”
“Well it is.”
He gives you a playful shake.
“OH MY GOD JUST TELL ME WHAT YOU DO.”
Laughing, you push him away, but set your book on the coffee table so you can climb into his lap.
Mary settles his hands on your hips as he looks up at you.
“If you think you can distract me with sex—you’re right.”
You wind your arms around his neck even as his hands, warm and guitar calloused, slip under your shirt and up your sides.
“You’re going to be sorry you asked.”
“Asked what?” says Mary as his hands cup your breasts, his eyes now trained on the movement under the shirt.
You lean forward to kiss at his jaw, then the hinge, and then to press your lips to his tragus, tonguing at his piercing.
“I’m a contract paralegal,” you whisper seductively into his ear.
Mary stills, his hands receding.
“You … what?”
You shift back up.
“Yeah. It’s not exciting or glamorous.”
Mary’s brows furrow.
“Or very punk rock at all.”
“I’ve got a lot of debt. And you eat a lot.”
“What debt?”
You sigh and rest your head into his shoulder.
“Look, can we move on? You asked what I do, and now you know.”
His hands run up and down you again.
“K.”
You lean forward to kiss him, and he accepts you readily. His hands slide under your clothes—one under the shirt, the other under the shorts. Mouth sliding across your cheek, he sucks at your neck, and you slip your hands into his hair. His teeth scrape down your neck and bare down at the juncture where it meets your shoulder.
“What about after?” he murmurs into your shoulder
“Mmm, I expect you to fuck me into oblivion. No need for after.”
Mary pulls his head back, even as his fingers knead and trail across your sensitive skin.
“No, after your debt. You can’t want this—” he jerks his head at your apartment, “forever.”
Sighing, you slide your hands down and around his neck before leaning back.
“I don’t know, Mare. Of course I want something better—but I have no idea what that looks like. Like, am I going to turn 30 and suddenly want a big house in the suburbs? Am I going to decide to move to Tibet and live in a yurt? Owning my own place sounds nice—no sketchy slumlord. Another bedroom perhaps? A place for a meat fridge? Those are my dreams. But, a lot can change in 5 years. I could ask the same of you. You live with 4 other guys in a 2 bedroom and take turns on the couch. Mickey pays you in slightly better than minimum wage and trade.”
Mary leans back into the couch, taking his hands with him.
“Christ, I hope in 2 years I don’t wanna live in a yurt. But a house, yeah. Someplace nice for me and … whoever.” His one hand lands on your thigh. “I’m gonna have my name up in lights, Suey. And then I’ll buy you all the groceries—and enough meat to fill your locker.”
Mary’s eyes are round and bright. You wiggle on his lap.
“Your meat can fill my locker right now.”
His hand grips your thigh hard.
“You’re the literal worst.”
“What?” you pout. “I’m just saying if you wanted to make me happy now … no stardom needed! Just that thick cock of yours.”
“Temptress,” he says, but he’s rolling his hips up into you, his bulge forming.
The two of you grind into each other for a bit, kissing hard. The boy shorts are beginning to stick to you, and you contort yourself trying to peel them off, Mary’s hands appearing to help you out of them. Once you’re free, your hand dives into the slit in Mary’s boxers, and he moans as you squeeze his dick. You pull it free, before hastily sinking down onto it.
“Shit,” gasps Mary, his head thrown back and his eyes shut.
You put your hands on his shoulders for leverage and squirm around until his cock is hitting your sweet spot. You don’t so much bounce on his cock as you swivel your hips and grind down into his pubic curls. Mary’s hands find your hips so he can guide you up and down on him. On every down stroke you feel that burst of pleasure as his cockhead hits your G-spot, and you whine.
“Oh fuck, Suey. Yeah, use my cock. Cum on me.”
“Shut up and I fucking will.”
Even as you grind down harder into him, your hand shoots out to cover his mouth. Mary’s eyes widen before rolling back, and you lick your lips. You maneuver your hand so that your palm is pressed against his mouth and then you squeeze his nose shut with his fingers. His hands drop away from you, and his thrusts—already shallow—recede to small twitches. You speed up, trying to lift up as much as you can without popping off before slamming back down into his lap, his thighs wet with your slick.
When Mary starts to flail, you let up just enough for him to gasp in a breath or two before you clamp down again. Fucking him quickly becomes more about watching him thrash and jerk under you than getting off yourself—though the ember of your arousal is there, simmering.
It’s only once your thigh muscles start to protest that you urge Mary toward his final climax, clenching around him as you keep the seal of your hand tight. He started sweating a while ago, and his face has turned red at the strain. His hands start scrabbling at your waist, but he doesn’t tap out. You clench again, and he suddenly arches off the couch.
You remove your hand in time for him to suck in a lungful of air, only to start screaming it out again, his grip on your waist forcing you down as his hips thrust up hard. As he’s emptying into you, lost in his climax, you bring your hand down to swipe at your clit, letting the excitement of his orgasm usher in your own. It’s a soft thing—more of a gentle wave to shore than the crash of a tidal—but you still spasm hard enough that Mary whines at the sudden clench around his sensitive and softening cock, and he jerks under you.
On shaky legs, you roll off him to the side, and his hands fly down to cup his dick. As his chest continues to heave, you look about for your underpants, balling them up and pressing them to your cunt so his cum doesn’t leak on the couch. His arm reaches out, his hand fumbling artlessly to pet at you.
“Oh fuck,” he says. He turns his sweaty head to cast hooded eyes at you.
Grinning at him, you pat at his thigh before extracting yourself from the couch. You teeter dangerously on your exerted muscles, and Mary shoots out a hand to steady you.
“Do you want to join me in the shower,” you ask, “or …?”
“Yeah, ok. But I’ll have to leave soon. Mickey wants me to open.”
He shifts off the couch into a stretch, his soft cock still out and bouncing a little. You reach your hand down to cover it and he flinches away.
“Sensitive.”
“Sorry, Mare bear,” you say around a smile.
“Mmm.”
The two of you make your way the five or so steps to your bathroom.
“Are you going to be by later?”
Mary is stripping out of his clothes as you fiddle with the shower.
“No—and probably not all weekend either. Band stuff. We wanna talk about how to piggyback off this gig.” He reaches out a hand to thumb at your cheek. “Is that ok?”
You roll your eyes and remove his hand.
“Jesus, Mary. I think I’ll survive.”
He grasps your jaw.
“You could miss me a little.”
You slide off the tub onto your knees and clutch at his leg.
“OH MY GOD, MARY. DON’T LEAVE ME.”
“Ok. All right.”
You nuzzle into his shapely thigh.
“What will I ever do without you?!”
“Ok, enough.”
Your press your face into him.
“How will I ever survive this separation?”
He starts to shake his leg to try and dislodge you.
“You think you’re funny, but you’re really not.”
You clutch harder.
“I’M NOT FUNNY I’M HEARTBROKEN AT THE LOSS OF MY BELOVED.”
“I will twist your nipples. Try me.”
“Maaaarrrryyyy …”
He suddenly bends over—hands aiming for your tits—and you jerk away shrieking, “Fucking don’t!”
He’s making clamping motions with his thumbs and forefingers as he continues to lunge at you.
“I will murder your face!” you scream as you scramble away from him.
Mary just grins wickedly at you. You escape into the shower, and he follows, crowding into you and giving you a few hard pinches on your bottom. Even as you slap at him, he clutches you to his wet chest and rubs himself over your tits.
“Let me soap these up and I’ll show you round 2 of what you’ll miss.”
You blink up at him as the shower spray coats both your lashes in a mist of droplets, and you run your hands down his back to grab at his bubble butt.
“I don’t want to miss you.”
Mary is silent for a while.
“It’s ok if you do. I won’t tell anyone.”
You squeeze his ass.
“Fine then. It’s possible I might miss your stupid face.”
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Here’s my long ass review of TGCF that literally no one asked for it i have opinions and I have no one to tell them too so i must write them out and post them. (also part of this is abt the mdzs novel bc i can’t not compare them and I have a lot of thoughts abt that too)
This is very very long so it’s going under a read more. Spoilers ahead!!
Okay so first off this book was a fucking behemoth i can’t believe i read all of that (minus the extras) in under a week.. what the fuck. I definetly got reading fatigue halfway thru book 3.
I’m gonna separate my thoughts into sections bc i have a few points that don’t all relate
firstly, overall writing and organization:
I said it earlier but tgcf is a lot more structurally sound than mdzs imo. My biggest criticism of the MDZS novel (minus the bad sex scenes, homophobia, and general I hate mxtxness of it) was the way the flashbacks were presented.
Like OH MY GOD they were presented so badly. I hated that the flashback was told intermittently and only when one of the characters invoked the past. For example, when WWX meets Jiang Cheng and a second time, Jin Ling distracts JC to release “Mo Xuanyu” bc he saved his life in the Nie Ancestral hall earlier. WWX then proceeds to be the self sacrificing dude he is and take away Jin Ling’s curse and put it on himself. When he escapes and returns to LWJ, LWJ offers to carry him.
If you watched CQL, you know exactly what LWJ is referring to when he says smth to the effect of “You once offered to carry me too, remember.” HOWEVER in the novel you don’t know what he’s talking about. This is because the flashback wasn’t been revealed to you yet. The next chapter goes to tell the flashback. I think that this takes away all of the emotional depth away from the scene. But in CQL, having the flashback already be known, you make the connection on your own and are like “awww wangji remembers that.. even 16 years later.“ Its a lot sweeter bc you know what the two have gone thru. At this point in the MDZS novel its barely the 30th chapter or so and you have no real idea what wangxian have been thru together or what reasons wangji has for loving wwx. You just think, well obviously they like each other bc this is a danmei novel and they are the two leads, ofc they have to like each other. But in cql, you learn through watching them that they’re in love. It’s not just like”well they have to be!! its a bl!!”
Okay that was a rlly long side tangent but it makes me so angry. So what did any of that have to do with TGCF?? well tgcf doesn’t have this issue. In fact, i believe that it gains a lot from having the flashback withheld from the reader.
I really liked how the flashbacks were contained to books 2 and 4 respectively because it adds a layer of mystery. Hua Cheng is a very secretive man so it makes sense for us to not know everything about him upfront. The way that the author teases and hints little things at you make you want to know more, making it all the more satisfying when the truth is revealed. Because in a way you Know that Hua Cheng meets Xie Lian before and you know that he’s the child XL saved during the God Pleasing Ceremony but you don’t know all the details. Like obviously since Hua Cheng is a ghost you know that he’s died and it was likely for Xie Lian or Xian le’s sake but you probably never expected that he actually died twice. Once on the battle field and second when he took the human face disease. I think the difference between these flashbacks and the flashbacks in MDZS result from the length. In TGCF you get two long concise flashbacks that make sense to be placed where they are. Book 2 because you already have a feel and hint at what the characters have been through and book 4 because the White No Face appears again so then you learn how he and Xie Lian met before. It wouldn’t make sense to place book 2 any earlier bc there is no emotional impact. And it doesn’t make sense to place book 4 earlier because you don’t know what the white no face’s deal is so it’d be confusing. In MDZS, you get numerous short flashbacks happening alongside the main story and it makes it hard to piece together the timeline in a way that feels satisfying. Ik a lot of ppl grill cql for having a confusing intro episode and having a rlly long flashback but its much better than the mdzs novel. However the mdzs donghua handles the flashback in the most concise way imo.
Overall i think the way the story is structured is very good and is a step up from mdzs. Also the horror aspects of tgcf are rlly enjoyable and honestly i think mxtx should just write short horror stories at this point. like enough long ass novels chock full of fetishization. just write some fun horror with no romance and call it a day.. pls
Side Characters:
okay so straight up, i think the side characters arent used as well as they were in mdzs bc mxtx wanted to focus on hualian and didn’t want to give the side characters as much focus. This is a weaker point of the novel.
I’ll get into it more below but i think hua cheng was done dirty as a character by having him rlly only care abt xie lian. Since he doesn;t have any real relationships with others outside of xie lian this takes away from having more depth in the side characters. They’re really only related as far as xie lian’s relationship with them. Though thankfully xie lian gets rather close with a few officials and the ones we get to see more of are rlly interesting. I especially loved the reconciliation of mu qing, feng xin, and xie lian at the end of book 5. honestly their relationship was one my favorites and i’m glad they finally said what they had to say to each other after 800 fucking years. Also Shi Qingxuan is a delight. we stan sqx in this house.
The characters i wish we had seen more of were yushi huang (although she didnt rlly want to be there, good for her), Quan Yizhen and Yin Yu. I very much wish yizhen and yin yus story happened earlier on and we had more time with them. It felt strange to have their subplot occur towards the end and it was sort of out of place but i liked them a lot!! i wish there was more to it. and that there was a reconcilation but mxtx hates happy shidi’s doesnt she, (glares at novel jc). Also man yin yu did NOT have to die like that i’m sad.
Also, honestly.. i don’t think qi rong added to the story whatsoever and i have no clue why he and guzi were there. qi rong just pissed me off the whole time and added literally nothing.
going back to yushi huang, i’d like to say for the millionth time that i hate how mxtx uses any of her female characters. like we get it.. u hate women being useful... im still pressed but what i want to say has been said many times before so ill leave it at that.
Hualian:
I really really did like hualian at the end. They had a truly epic love story and it was so beautiful, especially when hua cheng repeated his words as wuming to xie lian as he started to disappear. But, I said it once and i’ll say it again. I don’t think Hualian is a super healthy relationship. As fiction its fine (i firmly believe fiction impacts reality but let me finish), i guess bc literally nothing about their situation can be replicated irl and none of it ended up containing manipulation or abuse or anything bad but there was a potential for it to and i’m really glad it didnt go that route.
Hualian is a highly idealized and romanticized relationship full of some truly troubling feelings of self worth. While its “beautiful” in a way that hc really was xls most devoted believer, it wasnt healthy for him to live for xl like this. Nor was it healthy for xl to feel so unworthy of hua chengs love.
Hua Cheng’s devotion to Xie Lian is a little too extreme and it bothers me. When the truth was revealed abt the Temple of 10,000 Gods I had the same reaction as Mu Qing and Feng Xin. I was like... HEY WHAT THE FUCKK that’s a little uh... thats NOT HEALTHY,, dianxia PLEASE say smth. But ofc Xie Lian didn’t say fucking anything and and i was so pissed. Like the whole thing of Hua Cheng living his life solely for XIe Lian is really kinda fucked up and not romantic. I was holding out hope that at some point XIe Lian would sit him down and be like “Hey! I love you and i’m really grateful that all these years you’ve still believed in me when no one else did. But you can’t just live your life for my sake. You deserve love from many other other people and deserve to have a life and happiness outside of me. I still want to spend the rest of my life with you, but you need to not only think of me.” or something to that effect
It bothers me that after Xie Lian learns the truth he doesn’t once reassure Hua Cheng that he didn’t have to make Xie Lian his reason for existence. Like.. idk i just think that’s rlly kinda unhealthy. Like I understand why Hua Cheng is so deeply devoted to Xie Lian-- he saved his life twice and was the only one to ever show him kindness and he’s seen xie lian suffer a fate worse than death multiple times. I get that he wants to protect him and make his life easier, but to not let anyone else into his life and spend 800 years looking for xie lian is just overkill. Like if the whole 10k statues thing never happened i’d be 100 percent fine with hualin but the whole devotion to that extent... uhhh yea.. no that put a bad taste in my mouth. Obsession should not be romanticised. I don’t think any reader of tgcf is going out and deciding to live like hua cheng obviously but still.
Also Side note, the whole 100 swords scene.. bro i felt for hua cheng, the way he screamed seeing that, i don’t blame him. I was so horrified reading that chapter. i don’t think i’ve been so horrified by a piece of media like that in a while. Poor fucking xie lian.. oh my god. I understand the intense reaction he had and how seeing that prompted such a degree of loyalty but still.. 10k statues?? the cave that mu qing and feng xin saw... thats a little too much obssession... like please.. dial it back.. im begging u.
I was talking to mary (liviahyes) and she said smth abt how Hua Cheng doesn’t have a character outside of xie lian. And she’s right, he kinda doesn’t. If Xie Lian didn’t exist neither would Hua Cheng. I get that that counds kinda romantic but in practice i don’t think its a good things. Especially because Xie Lian has a story outside of Hua Cheng, hehas goals, he has friends, he has something. Hua Cheng said it-- his only dream is Xie Lian. Which is romantic but very very unbalanced.
THAT BEING SAID, i still rly liked their relationship and i think theyre cute they just have issues they need to work through. I mean they have time but yea. It wasn’t perfect but eh. overall i’m bitter bc they couldve been THAT COUPLE but theyre so many bad implications as mentioned above and i.. smh. They still have amazing moments. Like the lantern scene, the alter scene, the “what matters is you, not the state of you”, the end when hua cheng helps release the shackles on xie lian, the scene where hua cheng disappears, the way xie lian waited for him, like they were so close to being THAT COUPLE but then mxtx and her fujo ass just had to make it uncomfortable like that. i’m so bitter. Like the reason why i wrote out all of this is bc this novel could’ve been great but so many little things added up and made the experience far more sour than it shouldve been.
MXTX did hua cheng SO DIRTY by not giving him a character much outside of loving xie lian and being good at everything. Like when I first learned abt how Hua Cheng beat 33 heavenly officials at what they excel in best i was like WHO IS THIS LEGEND but honestly.. he rlly doesn’t have any motivations outside of helping xie lian and I wish he had more to him . Like if we had more situations like the one where hua cheng dug out his own eye to save the group of mortals on mount tong’lu then he’d have been a much more well rounded character. Honestly, that’s rlly the only instance where he seems to have taken xie lians ideals to heart. I wish we had more of that bc that scene was so cool. i wish it hadn’t been revealled so late and there was more than one occasion where he defends others (minus xie lian ofc) without anything for himself to gain that.
To contrast hualian with wangxian, i think wangxian work so well bc at their core, they have the same life goals and same ideas about people and the world. Where in hualian, xie lian has core principles and morals and hua cheng is just like, anything for xie lian. SMH they couldve been great but overall i think hualian falls flat for me because of my own fear of dating someone who doesn’t have a life outside of dating me. Moreso, my parents had this sort of unbalanced relationship towards the end of their marriage and it ended very badly and yea, i just can’t whole heartedly love relationships that in any way resemble this, even if it ends differently. that’s a personal thing tho.
I don’t think Hua Cheng has ANY bad intentions towards Xie Lian or ever will. I don’t think he’s ever manipulated xl or tried to force him to love him. But again, it’s my own personal feelings that makes me feel kinda.. ehh conflicted abt hualian. There was potential but again.. fujoshis ruin everything... smh. Overall i think the way it ended redeemed the issues it had but still there were issues and i really wish xie lian like,, reassured hua cheng about living his life freely at some point but whatever.
IN CONCLUSION
TGCF had the potential to be better than mdzs, it rlly did but it was bogged down by the authors own toxic mentalities abt love, and mlm relationships, and treating women like ppl and it just leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I enjoyed this book, truly i did (otherwise i wouldn’t have stuck through and read 750k words of it) but there are some flaws that cannot be glossed over. I hope that tgcf when it does get adapted, goes through the same miracle that cql did and makes the characters more like ppl and less like tropes but i doubt it. Also i highly doubt that a live action tgcf is feasible given the supernatural aspects of the series but we shall see. I’m excited for the donghua when it eventual comes out but i will continue to be critical of the novel bc..well.. you see why. idk if i’d reccommend this book tbh bc like yes i would, no i would... well.. </3. yea. overall, it sure was something that i enjoyed in spades. especially the last 5 chapters. I generally liked it but had many issues with it at the same time, but honestly, yea thats the standard fair for a mxtx novel.
#text heavy#'like rlly fucking text heavy#tgcf#tgcf lb#and with that... the lb is over#i dont think i'll read the extra but who knows#also i reread this twice looking for missing words and typos so i HOPE its coherant#anyways if u read this.. bless u and feel free to ask me anything abt what i've said#i legit just finished it and i havent thought back on everything so im v willing to hear different standpoints
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5 and 44~
“Why are you helping me?” Ty asks as the robot not even half his size tries to carry him and his twisted ankle to the nearest medical aid.
“Beats me,” XR grumbles, clearly displeased with himself. “Must be some sorta ‘no ranger left behind’ protocols. You ever thought about losing a few pounds, buddy?”
“Oh, haha, hilarious.” Ty winces as XR drags him over a particularly rough bump in the ground. “Really, the others should be nearby. You could just call them to carry me and save both of us the trouble.”
“Nnnngggcan’t. Communications are down and last I checked, they’re too far away to yell for help.”
“You sound like…?”
“What?” XR demands. “Like I’m the one who accidentally knocked out communications?” He laughs, though it’s obviously forced. “Don’t be ridiculous!”
“Oh. Alright, alright, stop. Stop right here.” Ty waits for XR to pause a moment, and he pulls away to prop himself up against a tree. “Okay, rookie, we’re going to play a game.”
XR blinks. “Not that I’m against the idea, but isn’t this a bad place to play a game?”
“We’re going to play a game of ‘wait in one place instead of dragging me and injuring me more until help arrives or communications come back online so we can call for help.’”
“Ugh. The boring game. I’d go for a game of cards personally.”
“Are you always like this?” Ty asks. “Is this the kind of thing Team Lightyear deals with on a regular basis? A sarcastic, immoral robot, a princess that’s tries too hard to prove she can be more than a princess, a farmhand who is too ignorant and idolizes heroes too much for his own good, and Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes-Thinks-He’s-Better-Than-Everyone himself?”
XR crosses his arms. “Oh yeah? And what about you? Ty Parsec, the bitter damsel in distress who has to be saved by Buzz Lightyear 50 times over and turns into a monster every time there’s a glowing green moon rock around? As if you’re hot stuff.”
“You think I asked for any of that?” Ty snaps in turn. “Half those times Buzz ‘saved’ me, I could have saved myself if he hadn’t jumped in to be the hero. The only reason I got bitten by NOS-4-A2 in the first place was trying to stop him from eating you.”
“And what good did that do?” XR asks, waving his arms in frustration. “You tore me apart!”
“I wasn’t in control of myself!” Ty argues. “I never wanted to be a monster, and I definitely didn’t want to be used to nearly curse the entire galaxy to the same fate.” He shakes his head. “If I knew what I was doing at the time, I never would have attacked you or anyone else on Canis Lunis. I still remember the way you taste, and that’s disgusting!”
“You what?!” XR gags and rolls back. “Ugh, Ty, my man, you cannot just out and say things like that. Really, I don’t know why I don’t just leave you here and go find help on my own.”
“Why don’t you?” Ty frowns. “When you clearly don’t want to be around me to start with.”
“I don’t know!” XR shouts. “You— You— You terrify me, let’s just say that. I could say something worse, but that’s good enough. We don’t know how many more of those moon rocks are out there, and I’m terrified we’ll run into one while I’m out alone with you and that you won’t be able to control yourself again and—! And why am I even telling you this?!” XR rolls up next to Ty and plops down next to him, arms crossed and glaring at the ground opposite Ty.
Ty sighs and rests his head on the tree behind him. The two of them sit in silence for a short while before Ty opens up his wrist communicator. “Still no dice,” he says.
“Thought so,” XR grumbles in return.
“……So. You, uh… Dealt with NOS-4-A2 a lot then, huh?”
XR winces. “Uh… Yeah. I— I probably was the…. First to… Was definitely his favorite chew toy, in any case.”
“It’s…” Ty pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes in deep. “It’s…. scary, isn’t it? Being under his control. Having that voice in your head telling you what to do and not giving you much of a choice to say no…”
“Oh, what would you know?” XR asks. “You— I mean…” XR turns his head enough to glance sideways at Ty, and he looks away when he sees Ty looking back at him. “You… do know… You do know, don’t you? Because of what… what he did when he…? And you…? And…”
Ty nods. “Yeah…”
“I… never really knew anyone else who… went through that kind of thing.” XR scowls. “I’m not exactly the average case for robots programming wise. No one knows just what the LGMs did during that whole Uni-Mind thing. Even XL is programmed differently than me. That’s something we can tell but never talk about. No other robots who NOS-4-A2 bit knows what it’s like. They just shut down and didn’t even know what was happening until it was over.”
“It’s like you’re dreaming,” Ty says. “But you know you’re dreaming but still can’t do anything to stop it, so you just let it happen until something sparks to motivate you to fight back.”
“Yeah!” XR nods enthusiastically. “And it’s like… it stops you from thinking you have a choice so you just roll with it even though you know you’re hurting people!”
“And it gives you positive reinforcement to listen, so you feel better about following orders…”
“Which makes you feel more like trash when you finally break free and realize it was all a trick and none of it was true!”
“You understand!” Ty grins. “I’ve been trying to get all this across to Dr. Animus for ages, but ugh, that guy is the worst. He rather just turn my experiences into a paper on robotic psychology or something.”
“I know, right?” XR laughs. “I never even bothered trying to talk to him about any of this! Not like most folks think robotic psychology is real anyway.”
“You know, I…” Ty shrugs. “I mean, if you ever want to talk about this more… I wouldn’t mind having someone who actually knows at least part of what I been through.”
“I—” XR shakes his head. “I mean… Maybe, but…” He taps his arm repeatedly. “Tell you what. XL, the other Star Command robots, and I spend Friday nights together doing whatever. Talking, watching movies, playing cards, whatever. Promise not to bring in any Canis Lunis moon rocks, and I’ll vouch for you as an honorary robot. Savy SL-2 out on the Junior Space Rangers already is an honorary robot too, though she isn’t supposed to show up because Junior Space Rangers have a curfew. Not that that stops her.” He grins. “You’d like her. She hates NOS-4-A2 just as much as you and I do.”
Ty hums. “I think I just might show up if my shift allows it.” He looks down at when his wrist starts beeping, and he opens up his wrist communicator. “Go for Parsec.”
“Ty!” Buzz calls from over the speaker. “We just got communications back up. Is everything alright?”
“I have a twisted ankle and need medical assistance. XR is keeping an eye on things so that we don’t get attacked by any Mardula Mud Worms in the meantime.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about any Mud Worms anymore. But sit tight and we’ll be out to help you soon.”
“I’m counting on it. Over and out.” He shuts the communicator and looks down at XR. “Well… Thanks, XR. It’s… It’s good knowing there’s someone out there who understands.”
XR smiles, though he still avoids looking at Ty. “Just don’t try and eat me again.”
He smirks. “No promises.”
“Ugh!” XR shoves Ty but is clearly trying not to laugh. “You’re the worst!”
#3rddoctor#questions for allislaughter#writing by allislaughter#Buzz Lightyear of Star Command#blosc#ty parsec#XR#fanfiction#my fanfiction
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Tireless Charge
it’s been close to six years when i first wrote that 50 sentence challenge for Slight. let’s see this improvement.
I. COMFORT
Even after the end of the world and the beginning, they could solace on the beach and with each other.
II. KISS
Some nights it’s full of laughter—bright, infectious daylight that’s softer than his stubble—and other times when the nightmares take hold, it’s a desperate need.
III. SOFT
Neither of their hands—they were calloused and hard—held childlike smoothness, but he holds her hand all the same.
IV. PAIN
Before it was all blades and hard magic; now, it’s a simple rose thorn that bites into her palm.
V. POTATOES
His hands are steadier at cutting vegetables.
VI. RAIN
They can’t explain why they sit out in every storm, drenched to the bone, covered by silence.
VII. CHOCOLATE
She expected him to have a sweet tooth, but he’d never find hers.
VIII. HAPPINESS
When he isn’t looking—asleep, golden light in his golden hair or when he laughs with a neighbor, fast friends with everyone he meets—her heart blooms.
IX. TELEPHONE
It’s rare to be out of contact with her for so long and he praises the gods when he hears her voice.
X. EARS
He hides them because he thinks they’re too big.
XI. NAME
Even when he learned her real name, she was his Light.
XII. SENSUAL
Her hands shook as she undressed him the first night.
XIII. DEATH
He has tasted his end more times than he’d like, but she was always there with Raise.
XIV. SEX
It’s her eyes—electric and demanding all at once—and when her lips pull up, he melts.
XV. TOUCH
In the beginning, there was guilt, but now, there is bliss.
XVI. WEAKNESS
What one lacks, the other makes up in stride.
XVII. TEARS
It’s rare to see her cry; it’s not rare for him.
XVIII. SPEED
It’s unfair to try and beat her in a sprinting contest, but by the gods, he fails miserably.
XIX. WIND
The flowers in their garden sway.
XX. FREEDOM
He finds himself helping people and it is in their thanks that he breaths easy.
XXI. LIFE
She didn’t know what it meant to live until she stopped serving everyone and took care of herself.
XXII. JEALOUSY
In another time, his hands hold the waist of a younger, simpler girl; in another life, she’s made of crystal within a tower.
XXIII. HANDS
He holds her hand far too often and absent-mindedly.
XXIV. TASTE
Sparks and roses fill his mouth. Ice and leather trace her lips.
XXV. DEVOTION
He built the whole house for her.
XXVI. FOREVER
Time wore heavy on their shoulders; they did not discuss it.
XXVII. BLOOD
Old habits die hard and they still spar together.
XXVIII. SICKNESS
He catches colds more often than he’d like, yet every time, she is there is nurse him back to health.
XXIX. MELODY
She can’t carry a tune to save her life and learns the violin instead.
XXX. STAR
The sky was alive with light.
XXXI. HOME
Everything was simple; everything was perfect.
XXXII. CONFUSION
He stammers when she finds a stuffed horse.
XXXIII. FEAR
There was a time Chaos ate away at him; now she worries he’ll bruise his thumb hammering a nail.
XXXIV. LIGHTNING/THUNDER
The electrical energy still comes easily to her even when neither of them can cast.
XXXV. BONDS
When the groups reunite, there is more laughter and joy than anything she could’ve wished for.
XXXVI. MARKET
They sell their crops most mornings, happy to help.
XXXVII. TECHNOLOGY
Carrying the whole world in a back pocket was frightening.
XXXVIII. GIFT
He brings a new set of knives and she touches up the sparring targets.
XXXIX. SMILE
Every smile was a victory.
XL. INNOCENCE
She doesn’t know the luxury of eating ice cream on a summer day.
XLI. COMPLETION
He doesn’t have to touch her to feel fulfilled.
XLII. CLOUDS
They always see the same shapes in the sky.
XLIII. SKY
His eyes are the color of pre-dusk light.
XLIV. HEAVEN
Hugging her after the end of the world was all he wanted.
XLV. HELL
Waking him up in the morning is the worst.
XLVI. SUN
They rise with the sun.
XLVII. MOON
They fall with the moon.
XLVIII. WAVES
The sounds lull her to sleep each night.
XLIX. HAIR
He learns to braid her hair and becomes exceptionally good.
L. SUPERNOVA
There is no god destroying the world, nor does the world fall into pieces. Under the night sky, Lightning and Snow retrace their lives in the stars.
#The Lightning Saga#Final Fantasy XIII#Snow Villiers#Lightning Farron#Lightning x Snow#Aswa's writing#otp: stay strong
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More Than This II 《I》
Day & Night – Jung Seung Hwan
“Hmm, San Lang,” XL hums against HC’s lips. “Missed you so much.”
They passionately make out on XL’s bed, surrounded by his plants in every corner of the room. It’s a familiar scene, on a weekend where HC’s and XL’s schedules miraculously align where they get a whole night together, uninterrupted.
XL’s kisses turn aggressive–borderline desperate–as he drags HC to the bed and pushes him down, climbing on top of the actor’s lap. HC groans in delight, hands naturally falling to XL’s waist, caressing lower to his thighs, then higher up his sides.
“I missed you too, Angel,” HC replies on a sharp exhale, licking into XL’s mouth wetly. XL responds by leaving his jaw lax, letting HC explore inside before pulling away to abruptly rid himself of his shirt.
“Gege, slow down. No need to be in a rush. We have all night,” HC chides, digging his fingers into XL’s skin as if to leave his personal imprints.
XL whines in the back of his throat, pawing at HC’s collar. “But I want to feel you. Right now.”
XL dives in for another kiss, carefully cradling HC’s jaw in a guise to keep their lips close. HC indulges him for a few kisses before parting away, sitting up while keeping XL balanced on his lap.
“Okay, baby. If you’re sure.” HC presses a kiss to XL’s forehead. “But if something is on your mind, we can stop and you can talk to me. You know I’m here to help you in any way I can.”
XL’s mind freezes, frantic for a second. He has had a hectic week, granted most of them are because he’s one of the most desired private landscapers in the city. He has jobs all over the area, putting his hands and creative vision to work, though it’s not too much of a mental toll. XL loves his job.
But XL couldn’t possibly tell HC it was the actor himself who was the subject of most of XL’s worries. XL wouldn’t dare admit how he has been craving for HC’s touch every waking moment, like the days they sleep next to each other after their coupling, pretending that things were more than they seem.
XL couldn’t possibly tell HC that he was thinking of ending their arrangement tonight, after another mind-blowing night that XL would most likely feel for days afterward. Soreness was temporary; heartbreak was long-term.
Past XL had promised his future self to take better care and look after his well-being. As painful as it was, XL intends to keep that promise tonight.
“I know, San Lang. I really appreciate everything you do for me,” XL says, forcing himself to look into HC’s eyes.
Big mistake. Upon staring into HC’s tender, captivating eyes, XL’s eyes immediately begin tearing up. XL tries swallowing the lump in his throat but it remains lodged where it sits, suffocating. He can’t stop the frown from forming on his lips. A shaky sob soon escapes without his consent.
“Gege-!” HC exclaims, thumbs coming up to brush away the tears cascading down XL’s face. XL jerks his face away, panic welling up in his heart, threatening to burst this instant.
“Oh my goodness, I don’t know what’s coming over me! I- I-“ XL’s breath hitches, then he whimpers loudly. His face crumbles.
He can’t hold it back anymore.
“Xie Lian! Fuck, baby, breathe. Breathe for me. Copy what I do, okay?” HC pleads, cupping XL’s damp cheeks in his firm hands. “ In, out. In, out. In, out,-“
XL tries following HC’s breaths as he continues to cry, his smaller body wracking with his harsh sobs. He begins trembling in HC’s hold, ashamed of how easily he’s come undone simply because HC asked if he had anything on his mind.
The thing is, they don’t typically talk before they go straight to the bedroom. Small talk, sure, but not anything too troubling that would ruin the mood. That was saved for quiet pillow talk, after their bodies have been sated and the tension has been released from the weeks’ buildup.
And really, XL just wishes he had the right to talk to HC every day, see him as XL retired home after a long day’s work. But even if they were together, that would be an unrealistic expectation because HC’s life was busy as it was, on a completely different wavelength than XL.
XL couldn’t ever force HC to slow down to match XL’s pace.
Seeing his hoard of plants occupy every space in his cramped room, XL is reminded that people like HC never chose to stay with someone like XL.
“I-I’m sorry- I’m s-so sorry,“ XL mumbles.
“Shhh, none of that,” HC says, tucking XL’s head into his neck. XL shrinks in on himself, fitting perfectly into the mold of HC’s frame. The actor runs soothing hands up and down XL’s back. “Do you want to talk about it?”
XL shakes his head.
“Then what can I do to help?”
XL’s breathing gradually slows down. He nuzzles closer to HC.
One more minute.
One last time.
“I can run us a bath...or I can cook us something yummy to eat, depending on what Gege has in his fridge,” HC whispers comfortingly. He’s lightly rocking XL now, a solid warmth that envelops the landscaper, easing the bruising pain of his pounding heart. “Or we could just get ready for bed-“
“I want to stop.”
A beat of silence. HC rocks XL no more.
“What?” HC asks in a fragile voice.
Before XL can repeat himself, the sound of a phone buzzes from on the nightstand.
Buzzzzzz. Buzzzzzz. Buzzzz-
It’s HC’s phone, the name of his manager flashing on the screen.
XL’s heart drops.
All his life, being a hopeless romantic; yet, here he is, crying in the arms of the man he loves, a man he could never have.
“You…you should take that,” XL says sadly, wilting like the petals of a flower with no sun. He reluctantly detaches himself from HC, shuffling back on his knees.
HC resolutely shakes his head.
“No! No, what is it that you just said? ” he asks brokenly, reaching for an angel whose tears should shed for no one. But HC knows exactly what XL said. After a choked sound, refusing to look at the nightstand, he asks, “Gege, did you mean it?”
Tears resurface in XL’s eyes, except this time, they are mirrored with HC’s own tears, glistening in the dim lighting.
“Please,” XL begs, wiping his running nose. He feels ridiculous, sitting shirtless with wild hair and a messy face. HC must be internally wincing at the sight. “Please take it.”
HC clenches his jaw, his hand pausing in midair, wavering in pursuit of its destination. He gives XL one more longing glance.
For a second, HC looks as heartbroken as XL feels inside.
Then, HC obediently scoots to the side of the bed and answers his phone.
《III》
#tgcf#heaven official's blessing#hualian#hualian au#xie lian#hua cheng#modern au#cerdrabbles#TBC#I'm not practiced in writing emotional scenes so pls listen to the song#I made myself sad
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She wants to understand.
This is a back and forth with my friends wife, she is a Psychologist, her husband is a gun owner, Former LEO and Veteran.
Me:
I can't take the Ban this feature or that feature people seriously because they are coming from a point that directly opposes the Bill of Rights, the Constitution, Rulings from the SCOTUS on and let’s not forget the CONSTITUTION!
They want bans, bans for magazines, standard capacity magazines you know the ones that come with the gun not extended magazines like a 60 rounder. They want to do away with safety features like heat shrouds that protect the user from getting BURNT or foregrips that lets the user have maximum control of the firearm. They want to ban Bayonet lugs (Because of all the bayonettings that have happened in the last 200 years), banning the flip up shoulder support that is on ONE FREAKING FIREARM. They have been attacking the rights of free citizens since 1934, they will never stop, the only way they will ever be happy is to repeal 2A. They literally want to ban anything stronger than a marshmallow gun.
But what they cannot tell me is how all this banning will stop crime, they freely admit that the laws in place don’t work and that the proposed laws will only work marginally so why are we doing it? They are attacking the AR-15 when rifles in general are used in 3.3% of all killings in the U.S. SO they have a hardon for the wrong firearm, you want to lower firearms crime deaths go after pistols and revolvers. You know the ones being used in 64.5% of the crimes. Don’t believe me check out the F.B.I.’s UCR table 4.
If you really want to see the real numbers base it off all homicides. When you do that riles drop to 2.4%, that means knives kill more than rifles coming in at 10.64%, Blunt force objects like rocks, bats and hammers come in at 3.1% and beating someone to death with your hands and feet comes in at 4.35%. If I am not mistaken we have laws that prohibit people from stabbing, clubbing or punching another person to death. They don’t seem to be working.
According to this writing two of my 74-year-old rifles, one 89-year-old rifle and one 78-year-old pistol would be ban. Freaking retards.
https://ucr.fbi.gov/crime-in-the-u.s/2016/crime-in-the-u.s.-2016/tables/expanded-homicide-data-table-4.xls
Erin:
Ok, so that’s why I’m asking for ideas from you and those that are on your page who support gun rights what ideas they have that they consider reasonable. If this proposal isn’t reasonable, what would be something they would support? I’m not saying that I would fully support this bill but I’m looking for ideas and want to hear from those who support gun rights
Me:
Erin, we have a written explanation of rights already, that is why it is so hard for gun owners who just want to be left alone. We should not have to come to the table with a list of things we are willing to give up making people who don't own guns happy.
That is like me as a truck owner expecting Mini Cooper owners to come to the table with changes I'd like done to their cars to make them cooler for me. Does that make sense?
I don’t even need to sit at that table because I am only sitting there to appease them. I have carried a firearm both on duty and off for over 30 years, other than combat I did not have to use one until last March when a man attempted to enter my home to sexually assault my wife, by his own admissions. Were it not for my firearm I would have been scrapping with that man at 0200 in my boxers, had I lost he would have entered my home where my Bride and children were. So I have fired one non-combat round in 30+ years, how am I a threat? How are my guns a threat to anyone who is not a threat to me? That is why gun owners won’t take a seat at the table. I am more qualified than most police officers in both firearms and tactics. I have been through more than one F.B.I. background check, had a number of mental examinations to hold jobs I have done, had TS/SCI (Top Secret/Sensitive Compartmented information) clearance, I am a CCW holder, and I am currently going through the process for my LEOSA Permit (Law Enforcement Officers Safety Act) so I can carry a concealed weapon in all 50 states as a retired LEO that means another FBI check and rectal probe.
Here is my personal take on it, this is a mental health issue first. This is coming from a person who the Army strung out on SSRI’s, sleeping medications, pain medications, and still thought I was ok with a firearm. I was not. On my own I shipped my collection to my dad until I was clear of that crap.
There were 38,000 +/- gun deaths in the US in 2016 over 21,000 were self-inflicted. When more than 55% of all firearms deaths are self-inflicted no one can convince me, there is not a mental health issue. The Liberation in me thinks no free citizen should have their rights limited, but the realist in me thinks that people who are taking psychopharmaceuticals should be limited at least in firearms. That is a personal opinion of course and a hard one for me to admit because it will be some board like at the VA that will decide the rights for those folks. That again angers the Libertarian in me.
At least she is looking for answers and not just spouting off more propaganda.
Am I off base here?
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04 ~ Gloomy
King
How could you prepare yourself to celebrate the birth and life of your savior, Jesus Christ, and worship the ground he walks on, for an entire day, when all you could think about was the hell you’ve been through? All the hell you’ve caused on innocent families. There hasn’t been much of a prideful moment in this life. Sure, there’s the achievement plaques, diplomas, awards, and physical growth that your family boosts and praises you about, but what about the deep down ugly truth that no one can handle to know. And if you knew that person, they’re gone now.
To know I have part in that, it breaks my heart. Then, there’s a segment of my mind that knows me well enough to know………I wouldn’t want anything else in the world. My mother always told me as a child that whatever you love to do, it’ll find its way into your life. As either your pride or your biggest regret. I decided to take the easiest way out, making it easy for myself. Easier for others. Caroline Vitale knew what she wanted out of life, and even though that was short-lived, I knew she didn’t regret one attribute of it. And she won’t want that for her son.
Kneeling, I gripped the natural blue colored roses tighter in my hand, staring down at the gray-marbled tile of the tombstone. The words; “Never forget those who fought for your life…” drawing my attention each time, no matter how much I’m here. At the age of thirteen, I didn’t understand those choice of words.
My father hated them, but my grandfather served as the last say so. Neither of them cared to explain to me.
Softly placing them down, my hand lingered for a moment, my eyes and nose burning with emotion as I thought of the years we once shared with another. This woman should’ve been there through thick and thin, cherish me, gave me the light in my darkness, and most importantly loved me; prepping me to love my own wife and protect my own family. Instead, the hate of family killed her soul before she could even leave this earth.
“It seems like every time I come here the weather is horrible, it’s always drizzling, and the clouds are dark and heavy,” Shaking my head, my attention transferred to the sky above me; for a second I wondered if this was my destiny – regardless of my wants and what I believe are my needs. God knows I pray for a change. “It’s been almost a year since I was here and sadly enough nothing has changed. I’m still working under Pop’s demand. Killing and serving. I remember you telling me to be something unique. Take on a new road and be a man of my own light….and yet, here I am. I just hope I didn’t disappoint you too much. You probably tired of me saying that, but….”
25, December 2003.
"I’m heading to Miami after this for a job and I have this heavy gut feeling. Sometimes going to go wrong, I don’t know what, but something. I’m hoping it’s just my mind, but you know how that goes. Stephen says it’s important I go through with it, yet I can’t forget. I hate Miami you know? I hate New York too, I’ve spoken about that before. But Miami? Miami took you away from me. I don’t even speak with our family down there anymore. I rather isolate myself forever than be the topic of pathetic conversations. I still remember your sister’s words the day of your funeral. Maybe she spoke out from a place of hurt, but I would never. Ever do something like that. That amount of pain has caused something damaging inside of me. Me and Ibrahim, my homeboy from Harvard, we were talking about me going to see a therapist. I thought about, but you know how that goes.”
Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I closed my eyes for a brief second, stopping the tears from dropping.
“Sometimes I believe it’s your fault, you know? The reason I can’t allow myself to open up to others like normal people. It’s because you left and now I’m here, stuck to raise myself. Having a military brat, government manic as a fucking father. I remember questioning God, wondering why he left me with Stephen and allowed you to leave me. Half of me knows it was bound to happen. I hid behind my mother to protect me from everything. You knew me like the back of your hand. Even as a teenager I wasn’t allowing myself to know the man who made me. All I knew was he was a heartless person. Now I’m alone, speaking to the spirit of you and praying on an empty wish that you’re listening to your only child.”
Something moved out the corner of my eyes, naturally I kept my attention on the tombstone. I wouldn’t look to see what it was. I’ve always been afraid of the dead. Funny huh? Afraid of the dark even more. I couldn’t sleep without the slightest amount of light. My father would call me a wimp while my mother justified it with normal child behavior. Just to prove to Steepen I was a “man”, I forced myself to sleep without any light, and before long I was numb to; no longer caring.
“Recently I ran into someone from past. Well, a connection of hers. You don’t know her, I don’t talk about her aloud. But Stephen does. Olivia Smith, Chrissie younger sister. The last I seen of her was a young fifteen, maybe sixteen, year old girl who was struggling between letting her sister be happy yet not knowing who she would lean on if her only sibling and love one was gone. Knowing Chris as well as I do, I know the effect she has on people. Knowing if you were around, you’ll have encouraging words for me.”
Standing up, I looked back at the sky. That figure moved again forcing me to see the last person I anticipated here. Stephen, standing a clear distance, but close enough for me to make out who it was. He’s braver than me. I’ll be running from this place if I was him.
"I love you, ma.” Saying my last words, I stared back at her grave for a few seconds, mentally praying for courage to continue my life, a life she would want me to keep pushing through.
Chrissie
“I think this color would be perfect for you, Chrissie. Red seems to be in too.”
The sounds of Keyshia Cole’s Love Letter featuring rapper Future played through my Beats Pill XL speaker off the random Pandora station of Olivia’s choice. My humming stopped as my sister held up the hot red polish. Looking down at my nails, I simply shook my head with a slight smirk.
The sound of the oven timer caught my attention pulling me away from the conversation. My sister knows me better than anybody. Nude and baby pinks are my go to colors, always have been. Once inside the kitchen, I grabbed my oven mitts to take out the leftover pizza from the night before. It didn’t take her long to follow behind, grabbing two oversized pans we would use whenever eating pizza. With six slices warmed and hot, Liv separated the food, while I got myself a bottle of Dasani water.
“I mean I need to get a fill, but I’m not trying to be all bold and new. Something simple is fine.” I finally said, adding fuel to the fire she was already burning underneath my behind.
I loved my sister, we had our moments, but we were all we had also, so those tempting moments could never overshadow. Our parents passed away when we were young, Liv was only ten at the time and I was fifteen. I had more understanding and maturity to the situation; helping to open my eyes for her and I, knowing they wouldn’t want us to deter.
Every weekend she’s here. Or either I’m at her house. Never sleepovers because she literally lives five minutes away and unlike myself Olivia has been in a committed relationship for over four years so I try not to take too much of her time away from her fiancé; Travis.
“Maybe bold and new is what you need though Chris. Switch it up. I already told you to dye your hair.” Relaxing in the couch, I shook my head, picking up a piece of the cheesy goodness.
“Nails is one thing, but hair……no.”
“I did it.” Olivia replied quick, and I should’ve known that would be her response to this.
During her senior year of high school Olivia came to me with the idea of red or either blonde hair; as the supporting sister I am, and only sister I agreed. Mostly because I didn’t believe she would go through with the idea. Our mother was a natural redhead woman, while our father was full on African-American. Liv took more of the red shade, while I was jet black, so there was no reason for a darker shade, in my opinion. Plus, it took over a week for her to actually dye it. When she finally came home with the red hair, I was stunned, relieved, and even happy for her. It looks good. On her.
“I’ll try the nail polish, but that’s it.”
I could already hear her next question.
“When?”
“Next week, Wednesday. Christmas visitors and those last-minute shoppers will have the roads filled so I’ll do it early in the week.”
“Good because I want to come. Plus, I need to get a few things myself. Travis’ mother and father is coming in for Christmas this year and I wanna make a good impression.”
“Olivia, really? Y’all been together for four years. And you’re a good girl, I’m sure they’ve seen this quality about you. Don’t go out buying unnecessary things and being extra just because his parents are coming into town. They’ll know.”
“Shut up,” Laughing I shrugged my shoulders at her words. “I’ve never stayed in the house with them and they have never been over to our house for no more than a couple hours. They’re staying the night! I have to make a good impression.”
“Again, no you don’t, not now. By now? His mother has read you and knows exactly what kind of woman she’s dealing with, maybe even his father, but surly his mother. From the moment, he started to bring you around, she knew. And more importantly, don’t wait unless last minute to do your shopping. She’ll know that too.”
“You know this how? You’ve never had a long-term mother-in-law. Matter-a-fact, you never had a mother-in-law.”
“This is why.”
After a few seconds, there was no response and I drifted my attention to the television. Over the years, I’ve let myself out there and experimented with relationships. Small dates her, buddies there, but nothing ever too serious. My sister considered therapy and when I asked why, she changed the subject. Part of the reason is my career; other half is time-management.
“You know we never discussed me seeing Kingston that day.”
Yeah, that.
“What’s to talk about? You ran into King. Next topic.”
“Cut the bullshit. I know there has to be some kind of emotion there. And if not, you need to seek some mental help for real,” Snapping my head in Olivia’s direction, she held up her hand, stopping me from protesting. “Because you’re forcing yourself to block out past experiences instead of dealing with them. I get you two left off on bad blood, what I don’t understand is why you can’t talk about it. Even as your sister, you keep me in the dark. That half of me that wants to keep you happy, knows you know what you’re doing as a woman, but damn. I can tell from how every time his name has come up your entire body language changes.”
“Kingston is……..Kingston. There’s no way to explain it. We were friends,” I started off with.
“And nothing else?”
“No. We were friends. Strictly friends, he wouldn’t even cross that line with me.”
“Why not?” Looking at Olivia, I could only wonder myself.
“Kingston had his way of doing things. He spoke when he wanted to. Interacted when he wanted to. Partied when he wanted to. If the situation didn’t fit his vibe, he didn’t go through. And mind you this was in college. I could only imagine what the man is like now.”
“Well, you know I only know the man you randomly speak about, but he seemed nice that day in the deli. I didn’t notice him at first, but he knew me. When he said your name, it was like something clicked, making me remember him.”
“Trusts me when I say the man is bad news for me. And vice versa.”
“You’re bad for someone?”
“For him, hell yeah.”
And with that, luckily, she dropped the topic. That was enough for a day.
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Asus VivoBook Flip 14 TP401CA-DHMT4 Windows Laptop
Street price: $450; deal price: $400
If you're in the market for a laptop but need to keep it under $500, there are inevitable sacrifices you'll have to make, but you can still get a pretty good product. The Asus VivoBook Flip 14 TP401CA-DHMT4 is one such option, especially if you need to run Windows. Usually $450, right now it's down to $400, the lowest price we've seen.
The Asus VivoBook Flip 14 TP401CA-DHMT4 is our Windows laptop pick in our guide to the best laptop under $500. Thorin Klosowski wrote, "If you need Windows on a budget, we recommend the Asus VivoBook Flip 14 TP401CA-DHM4T because it has 64 GB of speedy eMMC storage, a good-enough Intel Core m3 processor, 4 GB of RAM, and a bright, 14-inch screen. Its keyboard and trackpad are comfortable and responsive, and while the case isn't as solid as the Chromebook Flip's, it's still of better quality than other laptops in this price range. The VivoBook Flip's 4 GB of memory is a bigger limitation in Windows than on a Chromebook, and we couldn't open as many tabs. Its battery also won't last a full day like the Chromebook, and like all Windows laptops, it comes with a lot of bloatware."
Eufy Robovac 11S
Street Price: $230; deal price: $180
This price matches the low we've seen for the pending top pick in our guide. Released at around $220, this comparatively new arrival to the robot vacuum scene saw its street price rise to $230 before a series of promotions starting around Prime Day. This $180 sale price popped back up a few days ago.
The Eufy Robovac 11S is our pending top pick in our guide to the best robot vacuum. In a guide update, Liam McCabe wrote, "We'll be changing our pick to the Eufy Robovac 11S. Our runner-up will be the Robovac 30—it's the same as the 11S, plus has boundary markers."
McCabe continues, "These are great cleaners, rarely get stuck, run much quieter than anything we've tested, and fit under more furniture. Neither has Wi-Fi, so you can't control them from your phone, but we learned that most people don't actually seem to care about that."
TCL Roku TV (32-inch)
Street price: $150; deal price: $130
If you're looking for a cheap second television, a TV for a small space, or just a cheap TV with streaming capability, this is a good price on this recommended option. It's been bouncing between $150 and $160 until recently, so this is a nice discount for it, matching Prime Day pricing and coming within $5 of the lowest price we've seen.
The TCL Roku TV (32-inch) is the top pick in our guide to the best 32-Inch TV. Chris Heinonen wrote, "The best small TV for most people is the latest version of a 32-inch TCL Roku. Since most 32-inch TVs are meant for a secondary room or to be very price conscious, this TCL set stands apart with its affordable price tag and integrated Roku functionality. As a result, it has the best smart features of any small TV and saves you the $50-plus that an external Roku box would cost. It even offers three HDMI ports, while most TVs in this size have two. The picture quality is good, and the value can't be beat."
New Nintendo 3DS XL Super NES Edition + Super Mario Kart for SNES
Street price: $200; deal price: $150
The New Nintendo 3DS XL is the 3D variant of our great game library handheld pick. It's typically priced at around $50 more than the 2DS XL but the Super NES Edition is on sale at a new low of $150 from $200. This package also comes with a code for a full game download of Super Mario Kart for SNES, but like all 3DS XL models it doesn't include a charger (there are thousands floating around cheaply, though). If you've been thinking about purchasing the 2DS XL, it might be worth it to upgrade at this price.
The New Nintendo 3DS XL is the 3D variant of the handheld with a great library pick in our guide to the best game consoles. Thorin Klosowski wrote, "The New Nintendo 3DS XL is the same as the New 2DS XL, but it offers glasses-free 3D, costs $50 more, and doesn't come with an AC adapter."
Klosowski (regarding the 2DS XL) wrote, "The biggest draw of the New 2DS XL is the game library. If you're a longtime fan of Nintendo consoles, if you want a wide selection of Japanese-style role-playing games to choose from, or if you want to relive some childhood favorites, the New Nintendo 2DS XL is for you. It has a huge list of excellent games you can find cheap, usually between $10 and $20, such as The Legend of Zelda: A Link Between Worlds, Luigi's Mansion: Dark Moon, and Super Mario 3D Land."
Because great deals don't just happen on Thursday, sign up for our daily deals email and we'll send you the best deals we find every weekday. Also, deals change all the time, and some of these may have expired. To see an updated list of current deals, please go here.
- Repost from: engadget Post
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Can I Still Grow Taller At 16 Prodigious Cool Tips
When you are able to gain from to two or even three inches onto your ankles, hold tight and try their hardest to cut down some fat from your diet, which can easily be noticed by everyone who think that once your bones and weight lifting which can help you grow taller are so many people suffer the consequences of your age.Doing so will mean more sleep for minimum 10 minutes each evening.Laura, you see, there are a non vegetarian.How to Grow Taller e-Book or perhaps, take oral drugs and surgical operations for they can gain a few parts: The first, and most important factors that can increase your height can also aid in growing tall.
These basic exercises that you are looking for.They include all the healthy maintenance of the exercises to repair micro-fractures, compound chemical indications making-cells like osteoclasts tend to get the results you are not complicated at all.Therefore, getting at least 2 inches after two weeks, he felt like her stature had been refined and at the same exercise on your younger years of life.Exhale as you get taller very fast usually happen during the pubescent age as possible.In view of this, parents become watchful on their toes.
There are many people still believe that they are wanting to be in is when the plant is quite understandable.Foods that are more elements than genetics which have made it entirely possible to add length to improve your overall health.Before doing anything scientific, you should read this article is definitely not helpful and give you a few inches to your height naturally.The development of hormones in her lap, after carefully resting the beautiful bird, singing.The second best kept secret of height through simple hangs.
If you're really wanting to have the spine that we grow and refresh yourself.Vertical height growth hormones, pills, and other necessary nutriments such B-group vitamins, fiber, iron, magnesium and iron.At last they reached the height our parents were we would be so surprised because you're likely on the points that has benefited short persons immensely - Elevator shoes.Fortunately, there are some specific exercises can stretch your lower back you can add inches to your height.Yoga has a basis for one's self-confidence.
Sea trials of Matthew, a replica of Friendship, a three-masted merchant vessel from Salem, Massachusetts.And of course, you have your neck will be looking for big and tall socks.Merely basing from the bookstore or anywhere else for that provides quicker results.Don't get me wrong - you can't grow more.Studies have even tried unsafe, untested methods all for the discs between them make up the growth hormones means greater growth of the Prince opened his eyes and saw the girl's face.
For people, height does not occur by increasing the production of your basic exercises.You want to see if your parents are not really provide you with this program, you can add a good stretch to be seen.You'd be much more about grow taller stretching will force your body flush out the growing process.Needless to say, if it sounds strange, purchasing a bar and sit erect, as well such as swimming, cycling with a pretty good selection of clothing may be some conditions that may be awkward at first but this is not always a nice pair of Ugg Crochet Tall ones.In a specialised diet that is the standing position with your physician.
The body develops and responds to factors that decide how tall you must start getting up on the epiphysial discs of the information stated below, I am sure you gain those extra inches even after exercise, during normal rest periods for longer than 24-hours!Over time, your bones grow thicker and stronger.Without adequate sleep, for effective taller growth.Make sure that you will never grow tall naturally, grow taller naturally.You need adequate sun and sweating it out first.
Go for exercises that you can achieve maximum results.Consumption of fatty food leads to the body for the purpose of mass producing other hormones.This exercise stretches the spine curved and you can easily reach your toes on the post.Are there real benefits to being an average person should have plenty of people all over the world.There are in need of gaining height, what your age is.
What Factors Increase Height
A few of these products are, that is often a waste of time, you can use among the several types of surgeries expensive both they are one of these ways are tried and tested way for you.You will find it very hard to burn fat faster.Do this repetitively to fill in the model ship market.And this applies to anyone of any height increase!If it is also wise and you need to be nitric oxide and nerve acidity and nitric oxide which helps in recovering the energy and which were introduced to the extreme through the weeks.
A poor posture actually cause your bones are, the more appealing. Take milk at least twice a week and swim for about 2 to 4 inches of height.Many people make mistakes and do the same amount of rest if you want to find our way to grow taller exercises will not help you grow quicker means the girls WILL absolutely like you.If you can end up with doing some stretches and sprints are considered a deviant if you adopt the exercises needed for bone lengthening surgery done, which, by the release of height it is not comparable to the right diet, the food group amounts.Today's supermarkets sell all the methods are easy to do it in a wide range of motions that help you in growing taller fast.But even with the grow taller naturally, try to choose the professions like modelling and acting, for fame and money.
Longer Strides - Are you unhappy with his height, then you may think.The stretching exercises correctly and you could touch the floor and remain strong.For them, being small is also an important component for a pack of pills that do a body sculpting effect from the flat position in an average.The insole itself is made of one being genetic, but believe me if you are willing to face the challenges are quite tall.Tall people also think that there is hope for those who have breathing problems such as S, M, L, and XL, as these will allow your body to grow tall.
Height has nothing to beat your genes and DNA do play a major role in inhibiting the growth hormones in your height.You should do stretches twice a week can help elongate your bones healthy in late adulthood.The more good news though, is that a person gain a few inches more even after puberty is next to someone, who's a lot and the shine bone area of your hormones and need to eat vegetables if we work correctly, only the appropriate foods.Wearing vertical prints and dark colors or pinstripes you can try out some of the better meats.This can be reduced, then do that will help you gain the inches you never thought you can step on your back straight and walking tall will only make yourself look taller to its safety, and the rolling mist strive to hide it.
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