SHIT.

Just realised that I'm going to want to dress up hot for the street party pride market on Sunday.

Uuuughhh i have to check the weather and I'm going to need to do some washing, I think my mesh shirt is dirty

Chapter Four

I grab a bag of chips from a takeaway on the way to the bar that night, even though my stomach is doing that odd, nauseous gurgling thing it always does whenever I’m anxious. It’s a cloudy night, the grey sky like an omen of the coming season as the humid days prepare to draw in and the sharp, biting winds of autumn will come screaming through the city again. I didn’t bring a jacket. Goosebumps rise on my arms with the late evening wind. The chips taste too vinegary, too floury in texture. I tip the bag into a bin outside the bar. 

I think I’ve been here before, but I can never really be sure as all the bars and the clubs and the pubs in this town have all smeared together in my memory into an incoherent goop. I have too many strange and muddled flashbacks of being out of my mind drunk for the last two months of first year. Images of Marnie and her orange lipstick and sharp little teeth swim through my mind as I push through the doors into the milling crowd and the smell of warm beer. Dean Cullen and his grey face drifts in and out of the crowds, biting too hard on my lip when he kisses me, jaw clenched and sweat in his hair. 

Gabriel spots me from his spot near the door and waves me over, and in an instant I am back in my body. “Evie, darling, you came!” He’s with Simon and Michelle and another man who introduces himself as ‘Paul The Boyfriend’. They’re all standing because all of the seats are taken. I stand around chatting to them, but all the while I catch myself doing a quick scan of the crowd to see if I can see Jude, or Astrid, or…

“Oh, there’s Jen.” Says Simon, and we all whip around to look. Michelle has a tight smile on her face. “She’s with Pamela.”

“Wonderful.” Gabriel drawls. I scan around but don’t see what everyone else is seeing. I can’t find her, that is until she gets a little closer and I realise that I was looking for the Jen I’m used to, not this new one, complete with all of the things the last year have done to her. 

She’s thinner than she used to be. Her hair is brown, she’s wearing jeans and a pair of beat up converse, clothes so outrageously plain that I couldn’t have ever imagined her even touching up against them in a shop before. She has no ring in her nose, no bangles on her wrists, she’s not even wearing her usual red lipstick. This is not Jen, this is a weird, diluted version of the girl I used to know. 

I’m so caught up looking at her that I hardly notice the person with her who is winding her fingers through hers. She’s a short, slight woman with a crop of black hair and light eyes. Her mouth is thin and downturned at the corners, the kind of mouth that doesn’t ever break into a full on grin. This must be Pamela. 

“Hey guys.” Jen seems lethargic. Her eyes aren’t really focussing on anybody in our little group, just Michelle, who she pulls into a lacklustre side hug. Michelle cups Jen’s face with her hand as they draw apart and her forehead wrinkles up. “How are you doing, Jenny?” 

“Great.” She replies, her smile wavering. The hold she has on Pamela’s hand is tight, anxious. I feel strange and out of place, but I step forward around Simon and Gabriel to greet her anyway. “Hey Jen.” I say. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Like Jude had, she does a double take, blinking rapidly as she gives me a quick look over. “Oh, Jesus. Evie. I didn’t expect to see you here.” We don’t hug, but she reaches her free hand towards me and I squeeze it, and we exchange one or two pleasantries until it becomes impossible to ignore the fact that she’s too distracted or too exhausted to talk to me, and I can’t pretend I don’t feel some relief. Perhaps tackling conversations with both her and Jude in one night would be too much for me to take.

Pretty swiftly Jen and her girlfriend absorb themselves into the heaving crowd around the bar to get something to drink while Izzy’s band takes to the stage and starts doing sound checks. The rest of us find an empty spot on the floor near the middle. The bar is full, so I find myself pressed shoulder to shoulder with Paul, who, out of the awkwardness of being stuck with the person that everybody knows the least, keeps throwing varied compliments my way so that we’re not left with absolutely nothing to say to one another. “You smell nice.” He says at one point. “What’s that perfume?”

“Uh, soap.” I say. 

“Which one?”

“Like the Dove body one.”

“The purple one?”

“Yeah, I don’t know, I can’t really remember.” I do another scan of the crowd from this new vantage point, still looking for Jude, who is usually a full head above everybody else in a room making him easy to spot, but I don’t see him. I’m completing one final check over my shoulder when my eye is caught by a swoop of light blonde hair moving through the crowd and towards the bathroom. Astrid. I excuse myself and muscle through towards the back of the room, ungracefully bumping a few bystanders on the way. Where there’s an Astrid, there must be a Jude. 

I’m somewhere among the throng of hipsters in galaxy print leggings near the back when the lights dip down suddenly and spotlights illuminate the stage. I have to stop myself from cursing. I can barely see a thing now, and Astrid has already disappeared into the toilets. I gaze up toward the stage and watch Izzy wrangle the microphone from the stand and wind the wire around her wrist. The band gives no introduction, but just launches into their first song, and the bar is filled with the twang of electric guitar and the crash of the drum kit. Izzy has a clear, bright voice with more volume than I would have ever expected from merely speaking to her, and I’m briefly taken by the sight of her beneath the lights, the way that they reflect off her warm, strawberry blonde hair. She is a presence to behold, and obviously she has found a home in front of a crowd. 

I cheer for her with enthusiasm as the first song ends, and then I excuse myself and push all of the way out of the crowd to an empty patch of floor at the back. It is sticky under my shoes. I’m almost certain I’ve been here before. Something in the smell of it brings me back to a fuzzy memory I don’t wish to summon in its entirety. I spot Astrid again, she’s very striking, difficult to mistake, all long limbs like a gazelle, standing at least four inches taller than the man who is speaking to her. She is not in a hurry to leave, and stands with him with a drink in hand and smiling pleasantly. She certainly didn’t look like that when I saw her earlier and interrupted her mid argument. Embarrassment blooms in my chest at the thought. 

He’s not far from her, Jude, that is. I spot him right at the back by the window, sitting alone on a steel welded bench and his foot is tapping on the ground out of sync with the music. He’s doing this leg bouncing thing he does, a nervous tic I’ve seen before once or twice, and his arms are crossed over his chest. He is looking at Astrid as she talks to the other man. I go over and stand in front of him. “Hello.”

He glances up at me. “Evie.”

“Surprise.”

“I knew you were here somewhere.”

“Well, here I am.”

We look at each other for a beat. Two. “Do you want to sit down?”

I do. I squeeze onto the bench next to him, and the sill from the window digs into my spine. He looks at me, very tall, very close. He has to speak loudly. “Are you enjoying the set?”

“I think so. Although I’m not very good at knowing when music is supposed to be good.”

He looks at me like I’ve just said something weird, and his mouth does that little facetious quirk on one side, a smile creeping up his face. Only men can smile like that. “You know that it’s not objective, nobody gets to say what’s good music and what’s not.”

“Yes but there’s cool music and not cool music. I think I’ve spent most of my teen and adult life trying to figure out what ‘cool’ is and what the right CDs are to buy, and actually, I’ve always somehow been wrong. Maybe I should just accept that I’m not a music person. Or maybe I’m just cursed to be uncool forever.”

“Never.” He says. “You just need to figure out what turns you on.” I go to respond, but I notice that his eyes have flitted right over my head. I turn around to see Astrid in his direct eyeline, laughing along with the other man. Her laugh is very perfect, it sounds like tinkling bells, and carries over the music. “That’s a friend of hers?” I venture. 

“No, that’s a random man.”

“Oh.” I quickly do a scan of Jude, trying to figure out how he feels about that, but according to his blank expression, he doesn’t feel. His leg is still bouncing. “Does your girlfriend often talk to random men?”

His eyes return to me. “Yes, I mean, they talk to her, and she talks back sometimes.”

“Do you mind?”

“When someone is that kind of pretty, it’s just what happens.” He says. “If I let myself get all bothered every time another man looked at or spoke to her I wouldn’t be doing very well, would I?”

“I suppose that’s what it’s like, being a pretty girl.” I muse, and Jude gives me an odd look. “Yes, I suppose.” He says. “But it’s probably not easy, to be honest.”

I scoff. “You know, plenty of people would disagree. What about all those free drinks and club entries? The perks would be crazy.”

“It can’t be worth it.” He leans forward with his elbows on his legs and his knee finally stills. “Yesterday I drove us to the chipper, got out of the car to pick up the order, took about two minutes, and when I came back there were two guys practically hanging onto the car window trying to talk to her. They were dickheads to me too, when I asked them to move off, acting like I was the one flirting with their girlfriend. I think they all just want a piece of her, like, a few seconds of her time. They just want her to look at them, like that’s enough somehow, just, like, the gaze of someone beautiful.”

“How does that make you feel?”

A glance. “It makes me feel bad for her.”

“And that’s all?”

“Do you want me to say that I’m jealous?”

“Well, you don’t seem the type.” The words have only left my mouth when I have to look away, face suddenly hot. Moments from our last, horrible conversation invade my mind and I cringe at them, all the bits where I accused him of being jealous of Liam and Dean, and claimed that he sabotaged my relationships with them in order to make himself feel superior. A year and a bit on from that it seems insane. I think I was insane back then, but the whole year is shrouded in a strange haze now, like I sleepwalked through it. I don’t really know who that girl was. 

“Hm.” He says. “I can be, I suppose.”

“But not of that guy?” I gesture to Astrid’s companion, who looks like a stag party escapee. Late twenties, maybe. Bootcut jeans and pointy brown leather shoes. “No, not of him. Something tells me he isn’t going to seduce her tonight.” We share a laugh then, but still, I can’t help but wonder what’s so interesting about this seemingly bland stranger, and why she or anybody would prefer to speak to him than Jude. Astrid’s loyal boyfriend sits rather forlornly on this worn out bench cushion, letting condensation from the window dampen the back of his hair, fidgeting with a hole in the knee of his jeans, his leg starting up its bouncing again. It’s a bit pitiful.

I’m about to say something else to him, but at that same moment Izzy’s band launches into their loudest and most raucous song yet. It sounds like the sound guy might have even cranked up the speakers. “Wow, that’s loud.” Jude bellows. I agree, but I can’t even hear my own voice. He gestures for me to come outside. I nod, and then we get up and head towards the balcony upstairs. I see him try to signal to Astrid where he’s going, but she’s so wrapped up in her conversation with the brown shoes man that he doesn’t even see him.  His shoulders slump a bit as we pass her by. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

100 Days

Part Three

Part One Part Two

M! Alien x GN! Reader

Warning: pinning

Word Count: 2296

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Today’s the day. A whole month has passed since Experiment 337 became conscious, therefore that means that he is now in the clear to be able to leave his containment. The reasoning for the 30 day period is to see if the alien holds the ability to breath in our atmosphere. So, slowly throughout 25 days, the liquid in the container gains more oxygen, nitrogen, and carbon dioxide until it reaches the point of similarities with Earth’s. Then the final 5 days are just checking on the vitals and making sure there are no complications.

And Shark was able to withstand it! Of course Shark would. There was no doubt in your head that that crazy alien wouldn’t be able to. He’s amazing like that.

Do you know how hard it is to try to look professional and calm while speed walking down the halls? Every time someone would stop to ask you something, you did not stop. You would yell the answer or tell them the name of someone who may know the answer while you were way past them. Luckily, no one pointed out how weird you look speeding to your door.

“Examiner, good morning. You made it just in time,” A low voice spoke to you. You looked away from your door to see your vector’s manager walking towards you. He was the one who’s always speaking through your earpiece. You assumed that he wouldn’t bother you anymore, except for meetings, since Shark was now conscious, but seeing him walk towards you told you that he must have found something new that interested him. Sadly, it must have included you.

“Morning, sir. Have they already started the movement?” You scanned your ID card across the reader causing the door to open. Stepping through, you were met with what felt like a completely different room. The container was broken down into its four glass panels and were laying on the floor in the corner. Your computer was now moved into the corner with a wall around it with windows that peered out into the room. In the middle, was a long table that had the main attraction on it.

Shark was still fast asleep, thanks to the sleeping medicine still being pumped into him. His grayish blue skin seems to look almost matte out of the liquid. Glancing at his limb, the black color that it turned to was a completely different texture. What type would it be most similar like?

“Morning, Examiner. We are almost done here. I am changing their vital readers to be inside of them , so there won’t be cords everywhere that could trip you. I have also added a microchip in their neck, just in case they try to escape. It’ll send a big enough shock to take down an elephant,” The vector’s doctor explained walking around Shark and pointing them out. So he had vital readers in his right thigh, middle left arm, and one in the center of his chest.

“Thank you so much. I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to help you guys,” You apologize seeing how much was done without you. You walked over to your metal closet to put away your personal belongings and grab a fresh pair of lab coat and gloves. You actually get a chance to actually use the gloves.

You watched as your manager didn’t even try to put on any of the sterile clothes and just walked in. He’s the manager, so he should definitely know the rules, but is choosing to ignore it. This man sometimes gets on your nerves.

“So, this is the little shape shifting bastard,” your manager teased, poking Shark in his face. Not the bare hands. Who knows what germs this man has been exposed to and he’s directly making contact with the creature.

“Sir, I would advise that you do not touch Experiment 337 with your bare hands. It is unknown the result that may have on them,” the doctor spoke. The dark bags under their eyes made their statement feel a lot more firm then it would have coming from you. He may be the manager, but the vector’s nurse is equal to him.

He let out a small scoff and started walking around the room looking at things. The nurse went over to the corner room to probably make sure the vitals are actually reading correctly. With everyone busy, you walked over to Shark.

With the tips of your fingers, you brushed away at the spot the manager had touched. Woah. His skin was so cold. It felt like you were touching ice. Lightly, you trailed your fingers down his face to see that the texture was actually similar to something that was matte.

The skin underneath your finger begins to poof out. Looking back at his face, you see that his thin lips were spread out showing his sharp teeth. No way. You looked further up to see a pair of black eyes staring at you.

How was…. There can’t. You looked down to see that there was still a tube going up his back that was pumping the blue liquid. It has been confirmed that this formula worked good enough to put him to sleep. How was he awake?

“Do plan on bringing the bed in later today?” You watched as the manager walked towards the corner room, not noticing the two pairs of eyes on him. He disappeared around the corner and your head snapped down.

“You can resist the medicine,” you accused him. He gave a smirk and let out a quiet laugh. His top arms were folded across his stomach. He reached a little and grabbed the end of your lab coat and began twirling it.

“As I have stated before, Yeah and you can’t. It’s not my fault you humans are so, how do I say this kindly, incapable.” You didn’t even have it in you to argue with him. A million questions were flying through your head.

How did he stop the effects of the medicine? Does it have something to do with him being a shapeshifter? How long has he been doing this? Should you report this?

Wait, why are you doubting reporting this? This is definitely something that should be reported. If everyone thinks all aliens are asleep and there’s little security, he could become a real threat. Going rampant, freeing other aliens, or worse, going onto the outside.

Would he really be that much of a threat? He would probably just try to flirt with all of the security and get them to be his ‘mate’ or something.

“Darling, you look so cute when you think so hard,” his voice purred. You looked over at him to see he was smirking at you. His black eyes drifted down a little and that’s when you noticed that his hand holding your lab coat was raised up. He stretched his neck a little to look underneath it.

“What are you even looking at?” You held no personal items in your pants. Maybe he was analyzing the fabric of clothes better to recreate it better. Has he ever held this type of fabric before? You don’t really know where he came from or his history much. One day, you got a promotion to this vector to be an examiner and got assigned to him. No previous records were given to you.

“Nothing. Just enjoying the view,” he mumbled leaning a little farther over to look. Your brain seemed to freeze as you realized what he was doing. This pervert.

Stepping forward, you yanked your coat out of his hand and smacked the back of his hand. The corners of his eyes crinkled a little as he started to softly laugh. He was enjoying teasing you a little too much.

“Examiner?” You turned around to see the Nurse and the manager staring at you. You blinked in confusion at them. Why were they looking at you weird when Shark was clearly awake? “Can you please not smack the alien? They may be unconscious, but I’m sure they can still feel it?”

Unconscious? You turned around to see that Shark had his eyes closed and his arms back in place. It looked like he was truly ‘unconscious’ it wasn’t for the edges of his cheek twitching from trying to hold in his smile. He was trying to get you in trouble.

“I apologize. Thought I saw a bug or something on his skin. However, it was most likely his skin shifting around due to his ability to shapeshift." You hoped they didn't pick up on the bull crap you just let spewed from your mouth. It's one thing for a manager to touch him, but for a subordinate like yourself to slap him, that's an instant ticket to being written up.

"Bugs? Many workers have been moving in and out of this room. It's a small chance, but still is possible," they grumbled walking towards you. They glanced around the room before letting out a small sigh. "I'll make sure to send a cleaning crew in here just in case."

They actually brought it. You didn't know who to thank. Thank the nurse for being kind and not doubting you or the workers for moving around a lot. Well you thank both.

"Whelp, Examiner. Congrats on getting that thing to live for this long. Definitely thought the damn thing was going to kick the bucket ." His harsh laugh echoed through the room. You didn’t say anything, only allowed a tight lip smile to come on your face. The nurse just rolled their at his dumb statement.

“Examiner, you need to complete your training for in person examinations for Experiment 337,” the nurse reminded you. Their eyes drifted down to Shark next to you before looking back up at you. You swear you saw a small smirk appear on their face. “We will be outside waiting for you to finish up in here.”

They dropped their lab coat in the waste bin and slid their black gloves into their back pocket. Scanning their ID, the door slid open and they walked through. The manager appeared confused by their statement, so where you to be honest, but didn’t question it much and just walked out.

Did the nurse know that Shark was awake? If they actually knew, hopefully you won’t get into trouble for it. That would look so bad if you looked like you were hiding stuff for them and you could get written up, or worse, fired.

“Why do you always leave me?” You turned towards Shark to see he was sitting up now. You tilted your head up to be able to look him in the face. Something to document, he’s tall as hell. His torso to leg ratio is a little less even than humans. His legs are quite long and thick making you believe that’s where his height would mostly come from. But that theory is thrown into a fire seeing as his torso was the length of your entire upper body.

“Now that everyone has left the room, now you want to ogle my body. You perv,” he teased, covering his body with his six hands. The claws protruding out of them pressed into his grey skin. Small little bumps and rises appeared all over his skin. It really was like leather in a way. “Honey?”

“First, I know you didn’t just say I was ogling you. You were the one raising up my lab coat to look at me. You’re even more of a perv. Second, don’t call me honey. I don’t want anyone to hear you say that and get that wrong idea,” you ticked off with your finger. He unwrapped his first set of arms to let the elbows rest on his thighs. Gently, he rested his head on them and stared down at you.

“Then, can I call you babe, sugar plum, my starlight, darling, and/or angel? It would please me if all of the humans on this planet knew you were mine. And I do plan on making you mine,” he whispered. He leaned down towards you with a small smile on his face. In his dark eyes, you could see your reflection through them. Did you really look that flustered?

You stepped away from him and walked towards the door. You took off your lab coat while taking steady breaths. This is your job. You are getting paid to deal with this flirty alien. “Well, I see you're still stuck on that whole mate thing. While you continue to go on about that, I have work to do. See you later.”

You grabbed your ID to scan it when a hand landed on top of the scanner. Then another wrapped around your waist pulling you into a hard surface. Two hands went above you to the door while another grabbed your face to tilt it up.

“I’m not joking when I say you’re my mate. I’m adamant that you are and I don’t plan on letting you go.” His usual smile was wiped on his face, but instead a joyless frown was there. The sparkles in his eyes were all gone. He really was serious about this.

“Don’t worry. I’ll let you go. Just this time.” Every hand around you retreated back to him as he turned away from you. He walked towards the metal table with his tail low to the ground. “But next time, I would actually like some time with you. Please.”

All you could do was give him a small nod as you exited the room. Your mind felt fuzzy from trying to process everything. But you have plenty of time in the future to get answers to these questions.

70 days.

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I actually wrote something. It’s something short but I’m proud I actually did it. I miss Shark and this story. Hopefully, I’ll get to get something else out. Anyway, make sure to Like, Reblog, and Comment. I love to see you guy’s comments. 

ROs' fashion senses? And what is the fashion like in the world in general?

Oh anon, you have absolutely HIT the mark with this question. I am a giant fashion nerd and fashion of EotE is something I’ve been working on for SO long, thanks for letting me ramble about it!!

So, I’m gonna preface this post with a little general description of the fashion in the world of Uria. A lot of parts of EotE are inspired by the 19th century, which may seem vague, as that is whole 100 years, but hey - it is fantasy, so I am mostly borrowing elements of the real world here and there while leaving out others. Therefore the fashion itself is rooted in the different styles of 19th century, with a heavier focus on the first part of 1800s. I’ve incorporated elements of fashions from all around of our world, because... it would be just weird to focus exclusively on western world’s aestheticism for a whole fantasy universe, especially as big as this one lol. Besides for historical inspirations, I do like to imagine fashion of Uria with a bit of a modern high couture vibe - think Valentino, Guo Pei, Christian Dior, Elie Saab, Zuhair Murad...

So yeah, that is a bit what the general inspirations behind the fashion of EotE are like! Of course not everyone is out there walking in outfits straight out of fashion plates; lower classes tend to wear more toned-down, practical garments, without as much flair. Styles vary from region to region as well. I may one day write a post elaborating more on that, but then this post would be enormously long nvjkfdnvkjnfdknk

So, with this out of the way, let us get into ROs fashion senses!

Laurent: Without a doubt they are the one most up to with different fashion trends, and the one who is in a position to actually dress stylishly. However, their clothing choices are not the most fabulous. They value high quality materials and fashionable silhouettes, but tend to pick out simpler garments, without as many fancy accessories as other nobles prefer. (They do have a weak spot for fancy shoes, though. Buy them nice shoes and you will own their heart.) They are mosty seen wearing deep, toned colours, like bottle green, navy blue or grape purple, with elements such as silk shirts, fitting embroidered vests, straight simple trousers or skirts, and ankle-height shoes on small heels.

Seraphim: Even though personally they do not hold much interest in fashion, given their job as the Royal Spymaster they have to blend in with the crowds. Therefore, their outfits really range depending on what circumstances they are working with at the moment. So basically, you may see them in any and all kinds of garments. They DO however, more often than not, wear different capes (most with weapons, poisons or documents hidden in small pockets inside) and tend to lean more towards practicality over aesthetics. Therefore, you won’t see them in any delicate, flowy fabrics, moreso something sturdy and, preferably, easily washed. Blood on clothes makes people talk too much.

Vael: Oh, Vael’s fashion sense is personally my favourite. Imagine a gay pirate. That’s it, that’s their vibe <3 A lot of open button-downs, high waisted leather pants along with many leather belts, tight-length boots, huge amount of jewelry and piercings, colorful scarfs worn both on the neck and as a hair adornment... There is a lot going on in their outfits for sure! They may not exactly be considered “fashionable” or “proper” by good society, but Vael could not care less about how people perceive them, honestly - they know what they want to look like and, in my humble opinion, they look flawless in their own right.

Min: Their fashion choices are certainly... something. Min doesn’t have much resources to dress according to newest trends given their social standing, but boy, do they leave an impression with their looks wherever they go! They always choose very colorful, bright garments, often contrasting with each other. A range array of patterns and textures can be noticed in their clothes as well. They enjoy mixing and matching items that shouldn’t go well with each other, but... somehow they make it work?

Noor: Although they do not get many occassions to dress up (they can be mostly seen in armor), they do have a deep running love for finery and like to keep up with the trends as much as possible. Their best friend is a talented craftsman, and whenever Noor buys a new garment, they run straight to him to alter it for their tastes and to make it more fashionable. Even their everyday outfits meant for adventuring do have a bit of a flair to them - some handsewn ornaments on the sleeves and collar of their jacket, some frills here and there, perhaps an embroidery of tiny jewels on boots... They strongly enjoy these small details, even if they are the only ones aware of them.

Orion: They have a particular color palette when it comes to all their outfits: particularily white, black and shades of grey. It is only partially a personal preference; it mostly stems from their days in the Ienowan Assassin’s Guild, which uses these specific hues as a way for the members to recognise each other. Other than that, they appreciate straight, precise cuts and simple shapes in their outfits, as well as soft and flexible materials. Orion does have a bit of a liking towards jewelry, although they keep these ornaments simple as well - nothing beyond iron rings or chained necklaces.

Again, thank you so much for the question, and sorry if I went a bit overboard with it! <3

A lil fic in which Gideon showers with her clothes on, changes in the dark, applies her face paint out of a manual, and doesn't touch herself ever. Well. Hardly ever.

HtN spoilers ahead!

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A bit anticlimactic, if you ask me, after slaying brain melting horror bees and swimming right out of hell, for my next great big challenge to be trying to figure out how to take a dump in a prudish little nun’s body without compromising its modesty.

Not to put too fine a point on it or anything, my sombre bathroom break micromanager, but you really didn’t stick the landing on this one. You had a letter for basically every contingency, like you had one for if God sneezed really hard and blew out the sun, I’m pretty sure, and then mine was basically just ‘fuck you, return to sender’. You just went and parked your porsche in my landing pad with the blasters still on and didn’t even bother to leave the DRY CLEANING ONLY tag on the upholstery. I had to come up with a virtue-preserving game plan all on my lonesome, you know.

And I've been such a good girl, Harrow, you'd be proud. Well, at least you'd be such an unexpectedly small, tiny, miniscule, astonishingly negligible amount of pissed off that it's basically pride at that point, right.

Don't get me wrong, it was a logistical nightmare. Ever tried to shower in multiple robes plus what I must assume are, like, pantaloons? The sonic flaps it all the fuck around, and let me tell you, getting spanked by heavy Ninth vestments is now officially off my kink list. Now, the other option is wet dog trapped in straightjacket, and I'm not too keen on that one either. But I stuck with it. It takes like 20 minutes, no joke, to struggle out of all your stupid layers in the dark, with my eyes closed, without touching any of your most hallowed skin. But I've got a knack for it now, you know? If I ever get the chance to get a lil frisky, maybe with a hot ghost or something I don't know, I can totally impress her with my wild 100% contact free striptease skills.

What I'm saying is, I've been such a super duper chaste and meticulous and ephemeral little make believe nun it's like I was never even here. So you gotta take that into consideration, Harrow, when you pass your terrible judgment once I tell you how I've sinned.

So, it happened when I was putting your face paint on. It wasn’t half bad, either. Really, it was half good. I’ve been practicing. I found this horrible little book full of the gnarliest, creepiest, just most hideous skull faces, and they all had these pretentious titles like The Palm of the Storm or The Young Boy’s Booger. Just your style, basically.

But I was looking at your face in the mirror—that’s the way paint application goes, Harrow, don’t pout—and I got stuck on your pinched, bloodless lips for some reason, and I forgot for a moment that it was me in your muscles, and I just thought, wow, you looked so sad. You always looked so goddamn sad, and no one ever did a fucking thing about it, least of all you, and in that moment I was so angry about it, I could smack you.

So naturally I reached out and I brushed your knuckle gently over your cheek. And lo, I wasn’t struck down on the spot. That gave me a bit of a confidence boost, I suppose. I ran your thumb under your eye, just a little avuncular half circle while thinking just the purest fucking thoughts, and it came away wet.

Really got you going, that one little barely there swipe. You needed this real bad, Nonagesimus. I needed this, too. We were gagging for it. We were crying for it. I needed you to be touched gently, so bad, and I needed even badder to be the one doing the touching. I knew you wouldn't want that, of course, don't feel the need to defend your honor. This was my best compromise, okay? I didn't have a lot to work with. This way you wouldn't really be touched and I wouldn't really be touching, but maybe we'd both get a little something out of it anyway.

This is maybe a good time to confess those thoughts weren't so totally super pure. They were maybe a little muddier, a little earthier, you know. Harrow, listen, I've been thinking a lot about your body, what with living in it for months and having only the one made up magazine to look at and being balls to the wall in love and all. Sorry. So when I tell you I've been thinking about running my fingertip over your eyebrow from glabella to sphenoid, what I'm saying is I've fantasized about the texture of each one of your big black goddamn eyebrow hairs so much my finger's never not tingly anymore. And when I wiped your eye with a tiny knuckle and ran that smooth little fingertip along your real ass eyebrow, Harrow, there was a definite fucking tingle, and I didn't fucking stop.

I traced the smooth plane of your frontal bone, the proud arch of your brow ridge. I dragged your fingertips over your temple and into the mass of your sweaty, overlong hair. The side of your finger grazed the shell of your ear, and you shivered—your ears are so sensitive, Nonageaimus, I thought this stuff only happened in porn—and I felt the full, terrifying shape of your skull in my hand. I cupped the back of your sore-ass neck in a palm and I squeezed just a little, just to let us know we were held, and I worked our fingertips into those nonexistent traps that still somehow managed to be clenched tighter than a stoma that's munched down on one too many emperors. I kneaded them good until they loosened just a bit, and we were still crying like a little bitch.

I squeezed your shoulder, the clavicle pressing sharply into our palm, and I stroked down your bicep, which did not deserve the name, by the way, and I brushed the inside of your elbow and I dragged the underside of your bitten fingernails up your forearm and over that terrifyingly delicate wrist and your doll sized soft palm and then I held your fucking hand.

Yeah, I laced our fucking fingers together, Harrow. Eat me.

I could feel your heart beating in our interdigital folds, I was holding your hand so hard and so intertwiney. And we were definitely feeling some kind of way just then. I had to sit down on your bony ass, your eyes leaking, your shoulders shaking, as I was having just the most mortifying little breakdown over holding my own hand.

I'm sorry, Harrow. I wanted to hug you a lot, these past few months. There were so many moments I wanted to reach outside of you, all like blerghgrgh sudden gorgeous beefy arm bursting out of your stomach to smack Shittier Gideon in the balls or give Shittier Tridentarius a purple nurple. I wanted to give you a pat on the head, tell you've been a good good doggie and you can take a lil break now. Wanted to rub your shoulders and arms all over, force a bit of warmth into em even if I've given up on muscle. Wanted to brace the heel of my palm at the small of your back, squeeze your hips and pull em back, run a hand along that spine to make it proud again, just to give you some support, just to see you stand up straight. Wanted to rub the frown right off your brow, poke your lil cheeks and make you snarl, give you something nice and tough to bite on. But mostly I just wanted to hold you.

I wanted to wrap you tight, so that you'd become a compact little package with well defined edges and maybe then you could open it all up and let it out. Only in my big stupid arms, I'd think selfishly, like some sort of grand duke of self delusion, would you finally feel safe enough to cry.

Nah. Who was I kidding? It was me who was crying. It was me who wanted to be comforted, to be touched kindly, to have her hand held, and it was only me who was getting anything out of doing this stupid weird creepy bullshit. I wasn't giving you shit, Nonagesimus. I just wanted to hold your hand.

I didn't let go, though. Again, Harrow, sorry. Your body didn't care that it was only you, only me. Your skin and your flesh and all those bits you didn't care about wanted this too, probably. The pressure, and the warmth, the illusion or the weird roundabout reality of another person who cares about you. Maybe I'm making excuses again. But I care about you, Harrow. You'll believe that much, won't you? I care about your body. I care about all the non-skeleton parts of you, even. Baffling, I know.

So I sat on your ass, and I bent your head over our joined hands, and I cried, and I didn't let go.

Please Hate Me //part 42

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Based on: “Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki.” by @thefandomimagine​ Who would have thought that babysitting a god could be so much fun?

Genre: slow-burn, enemies to lovers, banter

"Dude, you live like this?" 

Loki moved past where you stood frozen to the spot. 

"Technically, not anymore.” He shrugged and walked into the sleeping chambers to the left. 

The rooms Loki used to live in were bathed in the rays of the setting sun, coming through large windows and the balcony overlooking the golden city. Everything was grand and coated in riches, whether it be the plush cushions laid on the floor, or the masterfully woven rugs, so soft they felt like walking on clouds.

Stumbling further inside, you walked past a large sofa. You brushed the fabric with your hand, reveling in the silkiness. There were a few carved chairs and a small coffee table on the balcony. You wanted to sit out there and watch the view. Loki's rooms were located high up over the city, and allowed you to marvel over everything laid down below. You'd spend hours there, unable to tear your eyes away if only it was you who'd been born to all this wealth and grandeur. 

Standing there, careful not to be noticed from far below, you wondered how different your life would have been then. How different would it have been to have all those rooms in a completely separate section of the palace all for yourself, and getting tired just from walking from one end to another. To have shelves so packed with books that they almost sagged, and so many places obviously created for reading them in mind. To have staff clean the impossibly high windows and the plush carpet, so delicate it felt like murder to dirty it up. Or to have a dressing room overflowing with jewels and clothing so fine it made you realise how many official meetings must've required their use. 

Closing your eyes, you smelled the soft fragrance hanging in the air. 

It would be a life of wearing too-stiff, formally pressed jackets and boots always shining as if new. A life in rooms too big and too empty, no matter how many things you packed them with. A life that would make you discover all the secret passages through the palace and outside of it. A life that would make you learn tricks and magic just to entertain yourself even in solitude. One that would make you enjoy visiting other worlds, and learning their history just for the fake sense of belonging somewhere. 

You walked over to where Loki disappeared some time ago. 

The bedroom was large and dressed in easy, pastel colors with a few darker patches of green. The enchanted bag you brought with you was laying next to the perfectly made bed. Only two familiar legs were sticking from where Loki dived underneath it. 

You jumped onto the mattress and felt it bounce with wonderful softness. Rolling over the covers, you delighted in their flowery scent. 

"I'm no longer mad about why no room in the Tower suited you," you said. 

"I'm delighted to hear that." 

Cuddling a pillow, you wormed your way to the other end of the bed, curious about Loki's whereabouts. For all the noises and curses coming from underneath the bed, it seemed as if he were struggling.

"You okay there?" 

"Reaching into my spatial storage used to be easier when I was the size of an underfed pigeon. Can you get me out?" 

Standing behind him, you caught Loki by the feet and dragged him out. The box he was clutching to his chest didn't look remarkable, but neither did his bottomless bag, so you refrained from judging it just yet. 

You plopped onto the floor next to him, watching the magic open the locks. "It’s still there after all this time?" 

"I hid it in a pocket dimension," Loki said proudly. "A similar one to what my bag uses. Now, behold…" 

The box unclasped the last of the clips. There was a golden sheer to the surface of the box, shining through the curved, strange symbols along its edges. 

Loki raised the lid, and took out… a stone. 

"I'm not gonna lie, I expected something more dramatic," you said, weighing the stone in your hand. You could easily hide it in your palm. It had a nice texture, something between polished and rough, and was not as cold as a stone ought to be on its own. 

"Not everything about me has to be dramatic." 

You looked around, to the grand chandeliers hanging overhead. And to the minute details carved upon the furniture. And to the tiles laid in intricate, deliberate patterns that must've taken weeks to plan and execute. 

"...yeah, right."

You gladly gave it back to him. There was something about the stone that just made you uneasy. 

The box it was hidden in landed in the bag, just in case it was needed. Watching it disappear in the void gave you an idea that made a wicked smile blossom on your face. 

"Hey, Loki…" 

Holding his gaze, you slipped your jacket off your shoulders. 

Loki froze. 

"How much time do you think we have before anyone finds us here…?" 

He watched your jacket drop to the floor. 

"...a while, I'd wager," the words came out breathlessly. 

Blood was thrumming in his veins as you crossed the short distance between you. 

A shiver he couldn't quite control run down Loki's back as you leaned in. 

"Make me a pocket dimension - in my pocket, actually." 

Loki blinked. There were quite a lot of thoughts rushing through his head that made it difficult to focus on the jacket you held out to him with a hopeful expression. 

You saw his confusion. "It honestly never occurred to me how useful it would be, but being here, in this place, seems like a perfect opportunity. You said your magic gets weird on the Edge, but here it's free of its influence."

"That's true," Loki admitted carefully, taking the piece of clothing, still warm with life. "May I inquire what you plan on keeping in here?" 

"A sword." 

"What." 

"I want a sword. We've been sneaking around all these guards here, and they always have those really cool swords, and until today I wasn't even aware that I wanted a sword but I do. Really do. Please." 

Loki chuckled. He'd agree even if you weren't making such huge, pleading eyes to him, but it was not something he'd ever admit. 

"How do you feel about paying a little visit to the royal treasure of Asgard, then? I've heard a rumor about a few ancient swords laying there, gathering dust." 

The sheer joy that sparkled in your eyes might've been enough to stop his heart completely, were it not for the bone-crushing hug you closed him in. 

This was something he could definitely get used to, Loki thought, having his cheek kissed. Something definitely worth coming all the way back here, to this place of times long gone, despite the risk. Loki had no doubt that his life would become much more complicated were he to be discovered on palace grounds despite his exile. He could save you, probably, if he convinced everyone he had you under a spell, and had enough time to think of a good reason for that. A few guards wouldn't pose a problem, though - he only worried if they managed to set off the alarm before he knocked them out and-

A pointed cough interrupted his plans just as Loki was finishing the spell off. 

Loki looked at you. You looked at him. 

There was someone standing at the entrance to the room, poised in the final rays of sun breaking through the thin curtains. Someone with a love for dramatics. 

"I see you brought a friend, dear." 

The shiver ran down Loki's back, but for vastly different reasons this time. There were plans against the guards he could use to outsmart them. There were secret passages he might use to sneak through the palace grounds. There were excuses, lies, and half-truths that served him well enough in various instances. 

But none to be used in this one. 

"Hello, mother." 

Loki was not entirely certain why his voice came out so quiet. He was not in a very favorable position, still kneeling on the floor with you and weaving a spell over your pocket. There was little denying to be done about the fact he was supposed to be worlds away, on the very edge of the known universe and not in his old bedroom. Even if he tried, he doubted it would work. 

"It's been a while," he added firmly, with a tight-lipped smile only present for a moment. 

Queen Frigga wore a smile of her own, tugged into the corners of her rose-colored lips. It spoke of things she knew and things she could see, regardless of how hidden they were meant to be. It was not malicious, though - far from it, if one knew how to interpret it. 

She remained poised by the door, in a dress of soft pastel pink. There was little surprise on her face, despite how unusual it must've been to find her own exiled son back without any warning. She radiated calm, commandeered without a hint of doubt. Loki missed her warmth. 

"Mother, there is someone I'd like to introduce to you," Loki helped you up. "This is my-" 

"Oh, finally. If you waited any longer, I'd pay you a visit myself," Frigga cut him off lightly, embracing you gently. She smelled of roses and pine. 

Loki caught your petrified gaze, but wasn't sure what to do either. Being hugged was a better alternative to having the guards called, though. You could take it. 

"As delighted as I am to see you," Loki interrupted the moment carefully, "how did you know where to find us?" 

"Palace has eyes everywhere," the queen shrugged, looking you up and down. "Thankfully, your father only has one."

Loki connected the dots. 

"Heimdall it is then, after all. I knew that bastard would have a sudden change of heart just like that." 

Frigga sighed. Her hands were gentle and soft on your face. "Welcome to the family, love." 

"...um, thank you?" 

Loki masked his laugh with a cough. It was truly a refreshing sight, to have you rendered speechless within moments. He'd cherish that sight for a long time. 

"What about some tea?" the queen asked as if things were already settled. There was very little you would deny her, but Loki did anyway. 

"Time is not on our side, mother. We were only able to sneak out for a few hours, but every moment we risk having our little trip discovered by the Edge. The tension there is… growing." 

"Dear, that place was always full of trouble. Do you have a plan?" 

She switched her focus in an instant, with a frown set between her brows. 

"We do." 

There was pride she was not afraid to show when she stroked Loki's cheek. "I can't wait to hear about your success, then."

Loki took a deep breath. "Well, there's a tiny problem we have to solve before we go back there. There's something we need from the royal treasure…"

Your eyes lit up. 

Frigga smirked knowingly. 

"I suppose with your current status, it might be difficult to get you anywhere close to it," she admitted, already thinking about a way in. 

You nudged Loki in the ribs. "What about your bag?" 

"What?" 

"Get in the bag, and I'll get you through," you explained, sweating profusely under the queen's keen eyes. "No one knows me here." 

"That's a stupid idea." 

"I love it, though," Frigga clasped her hands. "Get in." 

"But we don't even know if-" 

"Loki."

"...yes, mother."

As much as you were proud of your idea, there was one thing that didn't occur to you. Once Loki was gone, the rooms became much more quiet. 

Holding the queen's stare didn't seem like a good idea. Avoiding it didn't either, though. 

The tension made your skin itch, prodding you to move, to do anything, and most likely something stupid. Thankfully, the woman was first to break it. 

"Shall we go?" she asked, stepping towards the door with a gentle smile. 

You didn't want to. You had no idea you'd feel this awkward, even when she was giving you no reason to. Taking the bag, you followed her near-silent steps. 

"I'm afraid we'll have to put you in some less flashy clothes," Frigga mentioned off-hand, walking through a luminous hallway. "Your face might not be recognized, but you might still stand out like this." 

Watching her flowing gown, you were inclined to agree. The palace was no place for jeans. 

Your body was no place for the strange fashion of Asgard either, or at least according to your body itself. Walking in clothes cut to a different fashion was only saved by how soft their fabric felt against your skin. Still, you followed the queen to the treasury, faithfully staying a step behind as any proper servant would, or so she claimed. 

There was no hesitation in her steps as she led you through hallways with high ceilings supported by thin, ornate columns. The stained glass of the widows refracted the sun into an artfully intricate mess of colors. The guards and members of palace staff passed you on your way, but they only bowed deeply to the queen, sharing very little of their attention with you. 

"How do you like it?" Frigga asked casually when you were out of anyone's earshot. 

"I mean, this whole place is… wow. Amazing. I wish I had more time to check everything out," you answered honestly, unsure of what the right thing was to say. 

"Would you like to stay?" 

It was an innocent question, or at least it would be under different circumstances. Here, in the middle of a palace, stranded on your own without Loki by your side, it was a question asked precisely because of those circumstances. 

"I'm afraid my schedule is quite busy right now. I've got a war to stop and a murderer to find - you know, just a casual Tuesday evening." 

"And what happens afterwards?" 

She didn't seem angry, and yet there must've been a reason for her curiosity. You looked down to the bag you were still holding. "That doesn't depend solely on me." 

Frigga didn't smile, but you couldn't feel any hostility from her. If anything, she seemed quite at peace. 

The double set of high, elaborately carved doors at the end of the corridor were undoubtedly a work of art and also heavy pieces of metal, magic and gold. It took the guards a few moments of strained breathing and groans to open them for you, but any thoughts about their job vanished as you followed the queen inside. 

Rows upon rows of shining crystals of all shapes and colors crowded one of the walls. Opposite it stood the mannequins in proud poses and heavy sets of armor. High as you could see, weapons of all sorts hanged from the hooks, capable of supporting a small army. Daggers and curved swords you could recognize, as well as the lances and halberds that made you wonder what kind of monsters had they been used against in the past. 

The huge battle axes caught your eye, but there was no way for you to even lift the ones almost your own height. Beyond them, on the long tables, laid gauntlets and helmets both winged and horned or with steel fangs like a beast's, and further in - even capes made of what looked like scales or monster hide. This was a place of legends you'd never heard. 

"See anything you like?" 

Lost in your thoughts, the queen's pleasant voice startled you and brought you back to reality. 

"Everything and I'm not even exaggerating. I could live in here."

Frigga walked by the neat rows of weaponry. "It's mostly family heirlooms and loot from all the great and shameful wars of the past. There are countless stories behind every one of them, but I don't think we came here for stories. What are you looking for?" 

"A sword. Loki said we could get one from here." 

"What kind of sword?" 

"...a sharp one?" 

"I take it you don't have much experience with them, then?" she chuckled. 

"My world favors guns." 

Frigga passed the first row and walked further into the treasury. The grandeur of large pieces changed into the showcase of precision and stealth as you looked at the countless thin blades, hooks and things you couldn't really name, let alone use. You considered letting Loki out of the bag, both to have him steer his mother back to the weapons you recognized, and to check on him. Making a spatial storage was a tricky thing, he had claimed after wondering if the air would still work normally inside of it. 

Before you got the chance to do that, the queen stopped in front of a plain gray case and opened it. 

"It's a shame so many of those have to spend centuries out of use," she blew the dust off a middle length sword with a slightly curved edge. "I hope this one will serve you well." 

The blade was tinted with gray, as if melted with ash. It didn't shine, which could come in handy during sneaking around. The handle laid in your hand as if it was always meant for you. 

"Once upon a time, it was called Windcleaver," Frigga looked at you with melancholy. "It'll never dull and never break." 

"Thank you," you breathed out. Tearing your eyes off the blade felt impossible. "It's marvelous. I only hope I won't cut my fingers off before I learn how to properly use it. Are you sure I can take it?" 

"What use does it have here?" the queen shrugged, gesturing to the immeasurable numbers in the treasury. "Besides, I've heard my son promised you one." 

You carefully put the sword into your magically imbued pocket. 

"Thank you, seriously," you said again. "For everything. We knew about the risk of coming here, so… thank you for not ratting us out? And, you know, giving me this cool sword. You're awesome. I'd vote for you." 

Although voting for anyone was not a practice often used on Asgard, queen Frigga appreciated the implied meaning anyway. 

"That's lovely to hear," she said as you left the treasury and headed wherever she wanted you to go. "Especially since, as far as I could see, you plan on staying with my son, correct?" 

"I mean, I literally crossed the universe with him, twice, so I guess I do? Look, sorry if I'm not precisely who you'd prefer for your son, but I like him, and I'm not going to pretend I don't." 

You left the palace grounds through what looked like one of the main gates. The road was a wide path with olive trees growing by the sides. There was an embarrassing amount of relief you felt noticing the Bifrost getting closer instead of the dungeons. 

"Asgard is a beautiful place in many ways," Frigga broke the silence after a while. "People are happy and live in prosperity, especially on the palace grounds. But life, even here, is far from perfect. Things happen, and we can do little to control the damage they wreak upon us," she looked at you. In the dimming sun and the lanterns slowly coming back to life as you followed the road, the queen looked every bit the royal she was. "I'm glad that my son won't have to go through whatever happens alone anymore." 

Speechless, you followed her over the bridge and to the round observatory at its very end. Frigga approached Heimdall, speaking in hushed voices, meanwhile you watched Loki crawl out of the bag. With a groan, he slumped to the floor, mostly unharmed, if only a little yellow on the face. 

You patted his cheek, waiting for a reaction. "You good? How was it?" 

"...I'm never doing that again." 

"What if I pay you? I've got like—" you fished in your pocket. "Three dollars, a stick of gum, and a sword." 

"You got a sword?" that seemed to raise his attention as he pushed himself on the elbows. 

"Your mom found me one. She's really cool." 

Loki looked over to the queen conversing quietly with Heimdall. She looked the same as the day he'd been exiled. "She is." 

As Heimdall moved to ready the Bifrost, Frigga approached the two of you, embracing Loki tightly. You were aware of what happened in the past in general, but seeing the consequences of it from up so close put a weight on your chest. Switching worlds for the sake of a mission was a very different thing from being completely banned from your own home planet and leaving it for the final time knowing that you won't be able to see your family of any of your friends and places you grew up in ever again, and even you were slowly growing homesick already. Watching Loki say his final goodbye reminded you of how strong that feeling must be in him. 

"Thank you for helping us." He stepped away. "We were lucky to be found by you."

"Actually…," you hated to step in the moment, "we kind of need to push on that luck a bit more. I really don't want to come off as ungrateful, but we really need a tiny, little visit to Earth too."

"Just for a minute. Maybe two," Loki solemnly swore, remembering your completely-not-sketchy plan. 

"We just need to grab some-… thing," you added to the rising suspicion of Heimdall. "Stopping a war is not an easy thing, you know." 

With a heavy sigh of the queen, a nauseating trip across the universe and back, a tiny case of abduction, Loki and you finally found yourselves back in the familiar mud of the Edge, its stars shining just as bright as when you left it. So much has happened since you were last in the obscure forest of gnarled trees, that it felt like weeks instead of hours. You could say that thankfully, nothing seemed to have changed during your absence, but that would be a lie.

The two of you stared at the Rift. It was still a seething wound in the fabric of the universe, and just as awfully wrong as you remembered, but also - significantly smaller.

"Do you think it's because of the Bifrost?" you voiced Loki's thoughts.

"The amount of energy released by the bridge shouldn't be enough to make such a change, but… I can't see how it can be anything else?"

"So we just ignore it and pretend we haven't been even close to it?"

"Yup."

"I like that plan."

"How about we walk a little away from this floating rip of void while we're at it? I think it would be the wisest if the boy didn't see it just yet. We don't have the time to explain everything to him," Loki gestured to the bag. 

You followed him deeper into the woods, grateful to finally reach the part where life was growing back. It was a relief to leave the muddy, dusty circle of death and despair the Rift created around itself as it sucked all the energy from whatever dared to live nearby. Further away, the Edge showed off its true colors, with wild flowers blooming in tangled masses hanging overhead from the winding branches of trees that had no names. Butterflies with three sets of feathery wings crossed your path in a shimmering cloud.

"This should be far enough," Loki judged, finally putting the bag on the moss. "I still can't believe that Heimdall agreed to this."

"I can't believe your mother agreed to this."

"If you lived in the palace, you'd know first-hand what ideas she's capable of on her own…"

Loki knelt next to the bag and reached down into its depths to bring out a boy. 

The boy was no ordinary thing, both by his clothing and his abilities you were greatly interested in. The bright blue-and-red costume hid very little of how deeply in shock he was over his sudden change of settings, world, and, apparently, plans for the evening. 

He rubbed the yellow and green moss and stared at the feathery butterflies circling overhead. 

"Have I- Have I just been abducted?" Peter voiced his confusion in a dangerously high voice. 

"I'd say so, and since he's technically an alien," you pointed at Loki, "you've got the full pack."

"This is awesome!" 

Peter springed to his feet and proceeded to jump around and touch every single thing around him, startling even more butterflies into hurried flight. 

"I told you he'd love it here." 

"I never doubted it. My only concern remains over his discretion, though," Loki smiled gently, looking at the boy freaking out over the flowers, moss, ground, trees and everything alive and currently running away from him. 

"He'll do well. Hey, Peter," you said louder, "we kinda need your assistance." 

He was at your side in a flash, with hands shaking and eyes wild. "Of course! I knew you'd come back for me, guys, thank you so much, I'll do whatever I have to!" 

Explaining your half-made plan to the boy constantly jumping between hugging both of you and getting distracted by literally everything around him took you a moment. You only hoped he'd remember your words. 

In the end, Loki took the runestone out of his pocket and handed it to Peter. 

"Ten minutes ago I was eating a kebab on a rooftop and now I'm doing magic," the boy cheered. "This is great." 

"Now, focus," Loki snapped his fingers, grabbing a churned, black stone he found in the corpse of the monstrous spider that attacked you. 

Loki gently pressed the stones together and watched them start to glow. 

"You'll have to follow the light and not be noticed," he said, pocketing the spider's remains again. "It should take you straight to the person who wanted us dead enough to cast the curse. Once you find them, you get back straight to us, do you understand? There's a castle behind you and our rooms are right there, over those roses blooming-" 

"There's even a castle? I'm not leaving this place," Peter jumped on a nearby tree to see the palace better. 

Loki sighed, appreciating the hand you rubbed his arm with. 

"I'm having second thoughts if this actually is a good plan," he admitted, too quietly for the boy to hear. 

"We don't really have a choice. You said it yourself, that we'll be closely guarded. After that fight yesterday, they won't let us just roam the palace freely. And we need to know who's working against us." 

Loki nodded, painfully aware of all that. Still, it didn't sit well with him to have the boy involved in  such danger. The Edge had always been a violent place, and with the recent events, that tendency only deepened. 

"Be careful, boy," he said, once Peter was calm enough to listen. "I know we haven't explained this plan with you, but… We really need you." 

Anyone who didn’t know Peter well would think that there were tears of joy running down his face as he put on his mask and disappeared among the trees heading to the palace. Anyone who knew him well would know it was true. 

"Stop worrying," you nudged Loki. "Even if someone catches him, they won't hurt him. Besides, look at him go. He's got it. This is the perfect ground for someone with his abilities." 

"I'm not worried," Loki scoffed and crossed his arms in a very unconvincing gesture. "I just can't wait to find out who's our enemy. And if the court will side with us."

"Heimdall would see it, right? He'd help us if things go very south very fast?"

"I'd like to think so, but the only thing he can do is to inform the guards and leave the decision to my fa-... the king. I'm not sure what he'll do. This whole mission was supposed to let Asgard avoid getting any further involvement with the Edge."

So encouraging.

"I see. So how about we sneak back into our rooms before Faroq and his guards notice we're gone? Or even better - find Peter in our place, already having found that nasty spellcaster."

Loki let his imagination run wild. "...let us go indeed."

It was a good not-exactly-a-plan. Sure, it was a hasty job, written almost entirely on the go and with little thought of alternatives, had the things not worked out. But since it had taken you both to the ends of the universe and back (even with a quick stop midway for a tiny little child abduction), you wouldn't be so ungrateful as to say your not-a-plan sucked. 

A few minutes later, you were sadly forced to change your mind, as you were met with drawn out swords and even sharper stares aimed at you. The guards were posted right on the edge of the forest, where it turned into a little more tamed part of the gardens, and shedding any cover it might've granted you.

A woman in a blood red uniform stepped towards you with a scowl. "You're both under arrest. Do not move."

"That sounds a little harsh for breaking a house arrest," Loki calmly observed, moving to stand slightly between you and her. 

Your hand slipped towards your pocket and a certain gift it held.

The guard spit on the ground. "Not enough for the murderers, though."

Loki and you froze. That was new.

"Could we get some more details about what that guy just said or...?"

The woman looked at you suspiciously. She did not lower her sword, nor did she order the other guards to stand down. 

"Don't act like you haven't murdered them," she only barked out.

"As much as you don't believe us, we have no idea what you-"

"Bodies have been found a few hours ago," she cut Loki off. "A few families, living on the other side of the river. Their lives have already fed the nearby Rifts. Are you happy now?"

Far from it, you wanted to tell her and all the guards nervously waiting for the orders. If need be, they'd cut you down without a hint of regret - you could see it on their faces, in the stern looks and tense shoulders. It wasn't a question of what was the truth behind the murders. The only thing that mattered now was how well you had just been framed.

SEWING SPIDERS Spiderverse headcanon: All of the spidefam are, on varying levels, (somewhat) competent at sewing and other needle arts for multiple reasons.

Peter B, Gwen and Noir are the best in terms of actual skill.

Peter B and Noir learned from their respective Aunt May's as a way to stretch out the wear and tear of their clothes, since they didn't always have money for new ones. Between that and the time they spent sewing their costumes back together, they became pretty good at it.

Noir uses it as a reflective, relaxing activity when he can't sleep or the nightmares keep him awake. Because of this, he has the most patience when it comes to hand sewing even if it's larger projects or when dealing with an endless amount of small stitches. He is also surprisingly good at embroidery, and has made many patches for the Fam to stick to their jackets and bags. They all come out gorgeously detailed and monochromatic, but once the Fam gives him other colors and he has them all labelled and sorted (they know better than to mess with the labels) Noir occasionally asks them for help on color theory and what colors look good together.

Peter B is decently competent at sewing and fixing hem lines, waist lines, and holes. His aunt May was also a master knitter, so he has borderline medium level skill there, and can make a mean scarf or blanket if he really gets going. He has tried to use a loom before, but finds it too bulky and his rows often have large gaps because the struggles with yarn tension.

Gwen is by far, the best out of them. Not just because she can fix things, but because she can make them. Gwen has dipped her interests into many aesthetics ranging from punk, rock, vintage, pastel, or the softer looks based off of ballet and lyrical dance. She has made, and worn, a corset a time or two. She also isn't afraid to rip her clothes up and patchwork them together to see what she gets if she likes it enough, and has a good eye for diy stuff. She can make pretty rockin' circle skirts and blouses, and is the only other one besides Noir and Ham who knows how to take measurements and what they mean. She also legitimately sketches out her ideas and has a mannequin bust for her projects, and can use a sewing machine even on thinner slippier fabrics. She has a lot of talent for sewing and clothes making, on the flip side she has very LITTLE talent for things like knitting and embroidery and has rage quit them more than once.

Ham is exactly in the middle of them all in terms of skill. He can do the basics pretty well, knows how to keep his stitches lined up and even, can take measurements, and is better at short bits of hand stitching. His own skill is more for fixing holes and hemlines more than anything else, although he occasionally struggles with the learning curve of human bodies when it comes to the Fams' clothes because he is, in fact, a pig. And humans and pigs don't share a lot in terms of physical features. The Fam sometimes wonders WHY Ham needs to know how to sew, but since they're not sure about Zany Cartoon Logic when it comes to clothing they decide not to ask.

Miles is not necessarily GOOD at sewing, but he IS learning and getting better with practice. Apparently sewing your own costume is par for the course when you have a secret spider identity. He learned sewing from his mother, but the Aunt May of his dimension is also willing to help and a very tired miles is grateful. He still wants to do it on his own thought cause he feels guilty, which leads to several poked fingertips and sore hands and somehow getting wrapped up in the measuring tape while his mother laughs and scolds him for his lack of patience. His stitches are a little large and not spaced very well but he's getting there.

And while Miles can't sew very well, him and Gwen get along fabulously because Miles can diy pattern layouts in his head, dye/dip dye/acid wash/paint fabric pretty well. He actually learned it initially from both his father and uncle Aaron. He can use fabric glue and sealant pretty well, and can use acrylics and tea and coffee for cosplay style costume aging. While he's better at drawing, his dad taught him pastel dying with stuff like kool-aid, and how to properly iron patches onto his jackets and backpack. His uncle Aaron would always help little Miles out around Halloween time, and Miles learned things like placement, making texture, and making shadows and highlights with things like fabric paint and hairspray for costumes.

Peni is generally the worst of them in terms of sewing. Partially because she has no interest in it, and partially because her interests in science and technology tends to bleed into her other interests. As in, she's the kind of person who would rather make a Lazer scanner to get your measurements because it's more accurate and time effective versus doing it by hand. She CAN hand sew, kinda, but finds doing it on clothes time-consuming and frustrating. Being from the future, when she does feel like doing cosplay or fixing things, prefers to use her tech because she loves to see how accurately she can recreate things. She introduced the other spiders to characters she cosplays, that have futuristic designs or weapons, that Peni likes to recreate just to challenge herself. If she has to get something done to her clothes beyond her own skill, she prefers to be an informed consumer and look up local businesses to support that can fix her clothes, or where she can buy bolts of fabric that are no longer being mass used (deadstock) so they won't go to waste for Gwen and miles.

That being said, she CAN sew. Kinda. She often goes to Noir for help learning how to do it by hand since he is surprisingly patient with her, compared to an amused Gwen smacking Miles in the head when he doesn't listen. and Peni believes in being fashionable AND functional. She doesn't always have the time or interest for full length projects like Gwen or Miles, but her hand stitching is getting better with practice. Her interests lies more with accessories and decorative designs. She has begun practice on stitching ribbons and bows made of silk, or hair pins, belts, and patches made of fabric flowers/leaves and faux gems and pearls. She has even made the odd plush toy and doll. Noir has been teaching her basic embroidery, and she sometimes helps Gwen and Miles pick accent colors and textures for whatever they're making.

All in all, it's another weird little thing they all have vaguely in common. Ham snickers and jokes that they're Spiders, of course they can stitch stuff together cause that's what they do. But it is nice, having something they can all bond over like this. On good days when they can all hop over to someone's dimension and just need to relax and get things done, every inch of the room will be covered in needles, threads and fabrics of various colors.

Sometimes it's a Learning Day. Noir, Gwen, and Peter B help teach hand stitching, while Peni and Gwen drag Ham along with them to learn. Ham wants Gwen to teach him how to cut, measure, and drape fabric, because just like in the human world, in Ham's world there is a struggle to find clothes that fit certain looks and body types and he would like clothes that FIT please and thank you. He will also help Miles with his hand stitching when the others are busy, and is surprisingly good at distracting Miles long enough that he doesn't get bored when sewing. Noir teaches Peni ladder stitching to fix her plushies, and how to bind and cut fabric edges so she can stitch her silk belts and ribbons in clean lines. Peni shows Noir pictures of different tree and leaf designs, and helps describe the colors to Noir while he copies the unfamiliar shapes onto fabric with markers so he can practice the designs. Peter B teaches Gwen to find the rhythm of her knitting, and how to count time and stitches and rows with songs under her breath. Miles Shows Peni and Noir how to stick patches/ribbons/cloth to bags and clothes, what fabrics work with certain fabric glue, and whether something should be ironed on or sewn on (in which they turn to Noir for help).

Other times it is a Work Day, fun and relaxed but full of concentration. Gwen and Miles will be hunched over her sketchbook, bickering about draping and texture, what colors and patterns work best with what fabrics and what pieces should be layered together, occasionally asking for Peni's thoughts about what spots need something eye catching. Peni will be sitting next to Noir, hunched over with her tongue sticking out of her mouth, small quick hands working stitches into a plush toy or doll dress, or if the kids are working on something together, occasionally silk ribbons or belts with colorful glass beads, or a fabric flower hair piece. Noir is almost always next to her, half-watching her lines and guiding her softly when she gets frustrated, his own fabric pulled tight in his embroidery hoop and thread looping into something beautiful. Ham sits across from Gwen, grumbling as he fixes the holes in his work shirts and pants, and occasionally having Gwen help him redesign something that just doesn't fit right because he is working on a reporters salary and can't afford to waste it on clothes that aren't built for him. Peter B winces in empathy because he has BEEN there, and hums as he counts rows for the scarves and blankets that will help the others survive a New York Christmas. Occasionally, if Gwen is busy, Miles asks for Peter B to help him stitch his costume together, and amid bickering and exaggerated groans of death by boredom Miles feels a little proud of his stitches, neater and more precise than anything he has done so far.

SF9 and 5 ways to say I love you

➛ Note: There are few indications of nsfw themes.

INSEONG

Pouting when he scolds you for taking his jacket. He doesn’t like sharing clothes, and you know it. But the material smells the same way he does. You want to be surrounded by it 24/7. His demeanor changes at your confession. The familiar darkness of his eyes softens. You think he may forgive you, but he returns to scolding, this time with you in his embrace. Still, he doesn’t take the jacket back.

The sharpness of his gaze as you press yourself closer to him. People around are talking, too busy to notice a touch-hungry couple. Yet the thought of going further in the current surroundings doesn’t please you. Inseong has much less self-control. His knuckles turn white from the tight grip on a wine-glass, his other hand reaching down your back. It’s not long after that you leave the party.

Drawing each other on napkins when you’re in a cafe. The drinks are cold by the time you finish, but you’re satisfied with the work. He laughs at the little message you’ve added. “Does loving you make me a furry?”. Your eyes meet for a short moment before he writes down a “yes”.

The vibrations of his chest that are forced by honest laughter. Curious, you attempt to look back at him, but your head can’t go far enough, and in the end it moves from his breast to shoulder. “What’s so fun-” before you can finish asking, his phone plays the same video again. Your heads collide when you join in on the laughter.

The strength of wind one very random day, when you’ve decided to go out. It doesn’t spare anyone, pushing and pulling in the chosen direction. When you finally find shelter inside the first shop you see, both you and Inseong look ridiculously messy. As you’re rearranging his torn locks, you don’t miss the way he smiles at your features. Finally, he brings his hands up to help you too, but only after your scolding.

YOUNGBIN

Sighing when he tells you to pose for a picture. He has way too many similar ones saved on his phone, but Youngbin doesn’t care about your complaints. “I need them.” “For what?” “For when you’re too busy to see me.” His answer makes you smile bashfully. The picture he takes that day becomes his favorite.

A car ride in the morning. Streets are crowded with colorful cars and sleepy workers, as they all wander somewhere with a clear destination in mind. You do as well, but not to work or school. Youngbin’s eyes catch yours, their glossy surface turning soft from the exchange. His hands are gripping a steering wheel, meant to take you far away from the city’s traffic, to the holidays in the middle of the week.

Sharing heated kisses despite the discomfort that the countertop brings to your bottom. You can’t take your attention away from Youngbin’s magnetic touch and warm breath. But there’s a thought that tries to break through his presence. Finally, he sighs in annoyance and reaches behind you to turn down the cooker. “Better safe than sorry.” introduces another series of meeting lips, now much steadier without anything to bug your minds.

He never complains whenever his head hurts, but the weight on your lap is enough to tell you everything. Youngbin sighs deeply as you press your fingers to his temples. Then he smiles shyly and says a quiet thank you, glad to have someone who understands him without words.

The way he never raises voice at you, even when the annoyance is all too evident on his face. You want to bite back, make a remark that is bound to make him more frustrated, but Youngbin leaves before you get the chance to. “I don’t want to fight any longer. Let’s talk once we both calm down.” he hesitates by the door, hand reaching forward to meet yours in a gesture of goodbye. But then he remembers you’re angry at one another, and drops the limb. You cannot miss the shadow of sadness on his face.

JAEYOON

The sight of his broad shoulders, and the warmth of his arm hugging your folded legs. TV hums in the background, easily engaging him in the latest news. To you, it’s just a background noise. Jaeyoon’s soft hair draw the end of your world, their texture lovely in touch. As your fingers massage that one spot, he leans into them, a deep sigh silencing the news anchor. He remind you of a touch-starved puppy.

Placing down your lucky word on the Srabble board. Jaeyoon scoffs at the two bonuses you are given and your winning dance. “You got lucky.” is his reasoning, which you do not question. Games like Scrabble are all about four-leaf clovers, but it won’t stop you from celebrating. Your partner watches with his arms crossed, and just as you’re about to make a turn, small smile spreads his mouth in a way best described as fond.

The clash of strength when you’re wrestling on the sand. Jaeyoon wanted to put dirty lock of seaweed on your head, which earned him a push to the ground. As you manage to distract him for long enough to sit on his chest, you stop, stunned by his radiant smile. It’s framed in sunscreen, grains of sand, and wet strands of hair. All of which take your breath away long enough for him to overpower you.

Hiding under covers during a stormy night. It’s not a reason behind your activity, rather a simple correlation, because neither you, nor Jaeyoon feel anything similar to fear. Instead, you’re grinning at one another in the darkness. His feet tangle with yours, hands twist and run over each other’s bodies, sighs melt into one. A thunderbolt lights up the world outside, but surges through your veins when the man in your embrace finally lays a kiss you’ve been waiting for.

A growing collection of cacti, neatly organized on a window sill. Each one has a name, which their buyer welcomes with amusement, but never ridiculousness. “Did you feed our children?” “Of course! Do you take me for a terrible father?” Sometimes, when he’s lost in thought, you observe his unconscious habit of touching their needles.

DAWON

Admiring his calmness as he munches on a chicken wing. Once he realizes you’re not eating, he offers you another one, his eyes innocent, hot sauce dripping from the corner of his mouth. You don’t take the wing, instead reaching forward to wipe the liquid with your thumb. Sanghyuk chokes on his food as you put the finger in your mouth.

Lying in bed, your backs facing each other, either of you scared to turn around after the argument you had. There’s no more anger, only longing to go back to normal and see the other’s face. You miss his voice, but the uneasy silence is pressing on your chest, too heavy to allow words. Instead, you move your hand back, in search of his, and when you eventually do, you’re elated to find him returning the grip.

The afternoons when you sit down on a bench, watching passersby and narrating their lives. Neither of you can stop laughing during those, attracting attention of strangers, but all of them wave you off as just another weird couple. “You have to admit, he does look like a murderer.” Sanghyuk smiles at the sound of your maniacal laughter. His arm pulls you closer to his side.

Feeling his hands resting on your sides as he approaches the conversation you’re busy with. There’s nothing possessive about Sanghyuk’s grip, although your primary companion gives you an uncomfortable smile. You’re not the type to tell the man behind you off for showing the purest sort of affection for his other half. Even if in the end, the person is quick to escape. “What a nice guy. Too bad he had to leave.” you smile at Sanghyuk’s honest cluelessness.

The sight of him dressed in an apron, fresh batch of cookies still steaming from the oven’s temperature. Frosting is bubbling in the pan, and he curses as soon as he realizes what’s going on. Quick as to not burn it, Sanghyuk turns off the stove. You lean on the doorway, watching him move around the kitchen, until he finally realizes you’re back. Just a look at you and his mouth widens to show off a welcoming grin.

ZUHO

Nights spent in front of the computer screen, on Juho’s thighs, with his silhouette embracing you. He’s busy with work, but doesn’t complain about your weight. It would be weird if he did, considering he was the one to insist on your presence. Perhaps to use you as a chin stand. It digs in the side of your neck, hesitating between a massage and painful annoyance. “What? Am I bothering you?”.

Having trouble staying mad at him. Even if the argument you had was a rather big one, Juho continues doing the little things. As if everything was normal. Coffee, extra meal, even that dumb yogurt you like the most - they’re all still there, no matter what. Their presence is a needle stinging the back of your head, telling you to put the fight behind and return to the warmth of the person you’re so used to.

The times when his shy side steps back, to let another one take over. That Juho is more confident, smiling slyly, with a gaze twice as dark. There are new depths to him that beg for exploration. No matter how many times you’ve experienced it all, nothing about him can bore you. There’s a side of an obsessed explorer to your always Juho-starved mind. Even when his deep voice laughs at the excitement you’re showing, he doesn’t push you away. He seems to enjoy the attention just as much.

A never-ending string of chat conversations. Be it cute pictures of cats, rare memes, or just a voiced desire to eat junk food, you always look forward to the signs of communication. And if he won’t provide, you will. With a picture he may not want to show his friends, or words he won’t use in a love song, worried it will somehow get out. These are for him only.

Correcting the collar of his shirt, minutes before he’s supposed to leave for an evening out. It’s a normal thing to do - spend time with others, not just your loved one - but the close future still feels salty on your tongue. Juho asks you a question, and you smile in answer, nodding your head that yes, his friend is sure to like the birthday gift. He mirrors your expression, kisses goodbye, then disappears into the night. Out of sight, not out of mind.

ROWOON

The words of encouragement he uses during a dinner out. Things like “Finish this serving, I’ll ask for another.”, or “You ate too little. Have some more.” accompany each bite you take, deafening the inner voice of guilt. It will come later, when Seokwoo’s voice disappears with a sweet goodbye. And quiver in fear when he scolds you for ever being ashamed of your weight.

Waking up in the middle of the night. Your fingers curl and uncurl, their tips eventually spreading over the warm skin of his chest. Mind wide awake, you cannot just go back to sleep. Instead, you delicately draw shapes, hoping to hypnotize yourself, and somehow keep him awake. All of sudden one of his hands grabs yours and pulls it over his chest, to make you embrace him better. He’s asleep again just a second later.

Goodbyes that take much longer than they should. Even after spending an entire day in each other’s presence, neither of you want to part ways. Seokwoo’s hold is strong, pulling you so close to him, you think he may want to melt the two of you into one. Not that there’s anything wrong with the idea. Was it a possibility, you wouldn’t have thought twice. “I should probably get going.” he says, but the hold loses its strength only much later.

Nothing. You’re doing absolutely nothing, and he still looks like he’s about to melt from the sight alone. His smile is wide, dream-like, and in return you try hiding yourself, because that’s too much for your heart to take. “What? Don’t cover your face!” he’s laughing, his hands grabbing at your forearms to pull them down. When you’re defenseless he places the sweetest of kisses on the very tip of your nose.

The lack of your vitamin S. These instances are so rare, you can never get used to them. It’s like being homesick. Even if you’re sitting on a couch you paid for, home feels far away. It will come back, you’re sure of it. You will do everything to assure its return. But for now, you just sink in the feeling of loneliness, turning over the words, the moments, the possibilities.

TAEYANG

If it wasn’t for his begs, you wouldn’t have ended up dancing in the club. Which would be a shame, because Taeyang was right. Every once in a while you can go out, if just for the sake of seeing him in his element, a satisfied smile decorating such beautiful features he possesses. His hands pull you back into moving when the overwhelming adoration makes you stop for a moment.

The pain being so visible on his face. As much as Taeyang wants to keep the image of a stoic man, hearing your hurtful words makes the walls of a calm act explode into flour-like dust. He trembles in his spot, holding back the waterfall of emotions. How could you, of all people, say something so real to him? Something that could shake him to the bone? When he can’t stay anymore, Taeyang leaves in silence.

A walk through quiet streets. Some ights flicker on and off, broken, some unchangably dark, abandoned due to budget cuts. The sun has set a while back. While most people are busy with their everyday struggles, you and Taeyang are taking slow steps with fingers interlocked. Every few minutes his hip hits yours, seemingly on accident, but just a look at his sly smile is enough to let you know it’s intentional.

“How could you? I’m your boyfriend!” echoes from his contorted lips. “And a sore loser! Can’t I win every once in a while?” His sad eyes and closed mouth answer without a need for words: no, you can’t. Taeyang does a poor attempt at nonchalant shrugging, but his release of the controller means that the game has ended. Only hugs and kisses of affirmation manage to pull his lips into a smile.

The mornings when you wake up beside him. Rays of sunshine fall on his face, gently pulling him out of dreamland. You’re there to witness his first frown, delicate stir, and a turn to his other side, to escape the sun. Before he can register what’s going on around, soft mumbles leave his mouth. So quiet, you need to lean forward to hear better. That’s when he strikes - by kissing your ear. “Eww!” Taeyang just laughs.

HWIYOUNG

Laughing at the sight of a very confused Sanghyuk exiting the toilets. You were meant to wait for him, but Youngkyun couldn’t pass a chance to mess with the poor guy. “We’ll come out after he suffers long enough.” the boy whispers in your ear, his breath warm on the thin skin of a helix. Lean and strong fingers are innocently placed on your side, as if to keep you close, not in place. Perhaps it’s out of his mind, but you? You are more than comfortable there.

The way he embraces you like fine china. It’s so delicate, you’re sometimes worried he doesn’t want to indulge in any physical affection. When the thought crosses your mind, you loosen the grip on his sides. But instead of a sigh of relief, Youngkyun gives you a look of surprise. Questions of genuine worry are quick to follow. And if you have nothing to say, he will make you talk.

Pulling at his hand to follow you inside the store. Youngkyun sighs, reminding you of arrangements you made earlier, but the place looks so inviting, meetings lose their appeal. “Just 5 minutes.” he eventually relents. How does one tell you no? Inside, you’re leading him from a display to display, marveling at the products. Hurrying goes out of your heads, and when you finally leave, you’re late. But Youngkyun doesn’t seem to mind, too busy laughing at the bag of purchases hung on your arm.

The callouses on his hands. You’re massaging them, as if something as simple as smoothing down rougher patches of skin could delete them. It’s not your intention. Rather than anything, you find the feeling of them under your fingertips therapeutic. Youngkyun never comments on the habit, his hands always free when it comes to you. In private, he sometimes even adds foreahead kisses as a bonus.

The feeling of pride living rent-free in your head. Just a look at Youngkyun reminds you of the many reasons he’s so great. His ears redden as soon as he realizes you’re watching, too lost in the sight to be awakened by anything other than loud speech. “Stop!” he gently pushes you away. Maybe you do stop for a while, but the need to look returns soon after.

CHANI

The deathly grip of his hand on your elbow. Its suddenness throws you off, until the sight of his awkward smile comes on display. Leave it to Chanhee to get a bit dramatic with how embarrassed one can become. “It’s just my family.” “What if they don’t like me?” his worries seem absurd to you. “There’s not a single person in this world that dislikes you.” Your eyes meet as you detach his hand to hold it properly. “I’ve got you.”

A hug from behind, few words of affirmation and a smile to the side of your head - a mix of three things that make you unable to say no, as long as they’re contributed by Chanhee. He knows it all too well, often with evident slyness to his smiles. No apology tastes sweeter than the one flying out of his warmth breath by your ear.

The automatic motion of giving him your snacks. One for Chanhee, one for your. Another for Chanhee, another for you. He doesn’t seem to notice the hilaroius aspect of the situation, too busy with his phone. And although you do notice, the discovery only slows down your hand, not stop it. After one more, you surprise him with a soft kiss. Then, as his widened eyes center on you, the hand resumes its task. Chanhee doesn’t complain to anything. Still, his gaze stays on your features for a longer while.

The annoyance on his face making you feel so small, you can’t look at him. The argument is still vivid in your memory, words coming back to torture you more than necessary. You think you may go mad from the absurd of it all, but most of all, from the coldness Chanhee is emanating with. “Whatever.” you tell him instead of an usual goodbye. Maybe because you’re too tired by everything, maybe because you want the sound of it to hurt him.

Noticing how comfortable he is around you. There’s a stark difference between the past Chanhee and the present one. Reddening ears, nervous whispering, secrets - all of them are no longer a thing. There are no walls between your lives. Just the reality of having to deal with an extreme case of a “clown”. But Chanhee can’t know you like to call him that, because in revenge he will find you a nickname much worse.

➛ pollenat’s list of reactions

➛ pollenat’s list of shorts

Raid (hehe fanfic)

So i made a Masqueraiders (belongs to @reginaldcopperbottom) fanfic because i could. Yes it’s about 3k words. This one has been a long time in the making and I’m happy i finally got it done!

Please enjoy!

A groan escaped his throat as the car sent vibrations throughout his tired body. This was 100% not his day.

Scratch that, this was 100% not his week.

Although he knew that from the glorious hour he rose from his bed, with soreness traveling down his spine like a waterslide. These past days had been hell for the department, with criminal organizations raiding places left, right, and center. Good sleep was a rarity, and many fellow cops were falling asleep by their desks, only to be woken up by a call to action. And now it was his turn to deal with these crooks.

"The museum of Geology...A prime raiding target for any thief with common sense" mumbled his partner while taking a turn.

"Yeah, no shit Sherlock..." was his grumpy response. 

"Who do you think it is this time?" his partner joked.

"I bet on the Crownminals, from what we got these thieves are well organized, and that's their brand"

"That makes sense, although could always be Toppats too. Y'know one time-"

As the words kept spilling out of his partner's mouth, his eyes wandered afield, out towards the rearview mirror. A fog gathered in his eyes as the blinking red and blue lights burrowed into him and the world around him faded a bit. Maybe he could get some quality sleep after this. Just gotta take out these criminals and then drop dead like a ragdoll. God, some good sleep was gonna be heavenly, he could almost feel the plushness of his bed calling out to him.

"We're..he...re! ...Hel..lo? yo..u the..re?"

So soft...He could almost pretend...

"Dude! You there?"

"Ugh, yeah yeah I'm here, stop snapping your fingers in my face" he murmured angrily as his feet touched the ground outside the car. 

The cold metal of his pistol dug into his hand. The museum and everything around it was engulfed in chaos. He picked up on various orders coming from colleagues, but it didn't seem to contain the animalistic anarchy around them.

A tired breath flowed out of his lips, this was not gonna be simple or coordinated, was it? Welp, better just get a good position and-

The ground rumbled angrily as an explosion tore through the museum. His body swayed violently as screams echoed in his ears.

"Shit! They need backup! C'mon, don't just stand there!"

Before he could even respond, a tight grip had grasped his shirt and his body was traveling faster than his mind. Dear lord, the guy was fast! In through the entrance, through the gunfire, people people people screaming loud loud-

SLAM!

The door's impact echoed in his ears as his mind tried to catch up with whatever the fuck just happened. The sleep deprivation wasn't helping at all.

"What...the HELL...did just happen?"

"Oh, sorry dude, went a bit too fast there!" his partner cheered.

"You could say that again..." he grumbled.

His disapproving stare tore through his partner, who could only respond by scratching the back of his neck with sweat dripping down his face. So awkward he was, with his apologetic smile and soft-looking face- Nope, that was NOT what he was gonna focus on. 

They stayed locked in that position, staring at each other stiffly until the sound of someone clearing their throat reached their ears. Both their gazes turned towards this new presence.

"Hello gentlemen, thank you for finally noticing us!" A masked fellow cheered.

His lips remained sealed as his gaze wandered over the man. The man's mask seemed to resemble two shining suns, and a well-kept sun hat covered up his head, even though it was mid-October. His arms, however, were tied up with a rope across his stomach. But even then, a bright and shrewish smile adorned his face.

"Alright, you can stop starring at me now pig, It was way more entertaining to watch you two play gay chicken."

What.

"Agh! N-No, we weren't! I-I'm not even gay!" his partner exclaimed with embarrassment.

Suddenly, a strange protectiveness surged through his veins. His feet moved before his mind did, and he unexpectedly found himself between his partner and these fowl mask people.

"Oh yeah, that kid is definitely gay. Maybe the grump is gay too. Mad respect." the masked man chuckled to someone behind him.

He felt his face morph into a sneer as flustered squeaks clawed their way out of his partner's throat. His eyes turned to the woman behind the masked man, and they narrowed as he noticed more masked people tied up behind them. 

This had to be a temporary cell, and these are its inmates. A bunch of weird...mask people.

Wait.

Mask people...Mask thieves? No that couldn't be right. Mask heisters? Maskings? Mask sneakers? Masquerade raiders? No that was stupid no-one in their right mind would choose that-

"Hey, big guy~"

He quickly snapped away from his thoughts with all his attention focused on the masked lady. Her hair was long and slightly curly, with the texture of the darkest night in December. Although, there were spots of color too. A purple crown with a white moon rested on her raven head. She was, factually, a beauty.

But something about that...seductive tone made his skin crawl, and not in a good way. More in an 'i'll pay you to never speak to me like that again' way.

"Are you a parking ticket? 'Cause you got fine written all over you~"

Nope. Nope nope nope nope ew NO.

His mind was blank, and he looked like a fish out of water. It felt like disgusting bugs were crawling around inside his skin. Wait, was she wiggling her hips-?

"Dude? You online?"

He snapped back to reality and averted his stare. That was his partner. Right he still had a job to do. Criminals first, thinking about why he felt so uncomfortable with a woman flirting with him later. Luckily for him, a name got caught in his brainwaves.

He turned back towards the masked woman, his face stitched into a more serious expression.

"Masqueraiders correct?" he questioned with a head tilt.

The masked lass took a second to compose herself. Her purple gloved hand reached up and pushed her just as purple star marked mask back into place. It only took a single glance at the cop's "serious" face for her resolve to break, and the laughter burst out of her mouth like a botched dam. 

"PffFFFFF HAHAHAHA! Y-Yeah, we are the MasqurAIDHHERERESSS! OH MY GOD, AIEDEN! LOOK AT HIS FACE!"

The gaze of the sun mask fellow, which had settled on his slightly less flustered partner, turned to him. And the cackling flowed out of his mouth not long after.

"ASTRA HE LOOKS LIKE A BABY WITH A BEARD! HOLY FUCK I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS! I THOUGHT BEARDS WERE SUPPOSED TO MAKE YOU LOOK OLDER NOT YOUNGER! COPS TRY TO MARKET THEMSELVES AS SCARY BUT, I AM POSITIVELY DYING-"

Ouch, that was a hit to the ego. The expression of seriousness faltered a little bit as his gaze turned to the ground. Wow, was he letting these crooks get under his skin?

Yes, he was.

He was tired! What can he say?

The laughter kept echoing in his ears for a bit, really destroying any hubris he had beforehand. The feeling of his partner's worried stare really didn't help. It actually made it more embarrassing. If this was 100% not his day before, now it was 150% not his day. The flow in his brain had practically stopped as he tried to reboot his thinking process. Okay, okay, he's got this. Just gotta-

An abrupt and intense movement in front of his eyes caused the mental reboot to speedrun through the last stages. The click of a gun bounced between the walls of the room, and the mocking laughter ceased abruptly. He couldn't make out the faces of the tied up convicts who mocked him or see them at all, for that matter, because his partner's body was standing protectively between him and the Masqueraiders. Well wasn't this familiar? I guess bros gotta protect bros. He didn't have to see it with his bare eyes to know that there was a gun pointed at the crooks. You could cut the tension in the room with a knife.

"Hey, dudes, ladies, and thudes. Didn't we all learn that you should treat the police with an ounce of respect when we were younger?"

His partner's voice was smooth as a bead, yet it still possessed that edge of "dudebro" that was so unique to him. It was such a lovely song to his ears. God, what he would do to hear it more...

His head quickly swung side to side as if he was trying to shake that thought out of his head. No homo, no homo. Right?

The still but tense air that settled after his partners' words broke with a snort and some giggles. 

"Oh? Mind filling me in on the joke dude?" his partner quipped while the gun clattered in his hands.

"Don't you hear it lad?" The sun-masked fellow whose name apparently was Aieden responded confidently. Well, confidently when you consider that there was a gun in his face.

"Hear what?"

Now that he mentioned it, there seemed to be footsteps approaching their little hideaway spot. Very quick yet...heavy steps. Oh fuck. Could it be-?!

"Get down-!"

He felt his hand instinctively clutch the sleeve of his partner before they made contact with the hard floor. The seconds ticked on, and on, and on.

CRASH!

"HOLY FUCK-"

The wall by their side crumbled into pieces as an unstoppable force smashed into it. He felt the fabric of his partner's sleeve crack as he dragged them both out of the way of this brute.

"Freeze! This is-"

The gun rattled in his hands, his eyes dilated with fear. Because now he saw this person, this giant, clearly. Holy mother of God.

The man in front of him bore clothes in brilliant green and black. On his face rested a mysterious black mask that only covered one half, and a white spot resembling an eye covered the spot on the mask where his actual eye would be. Emerald green boots, teeth sharp as stalactites... 

And this fowl criminal was enormous. He dwarfed everybody else in that little supply closet, probably standing at around 7 feet tall! Jesus Christ, was he dealing with crooks or actual mythical beings?!

Luckily for him though, this gigantic force of nature didn't seem to pay any attention to his intimidation attempt. He seemed more focused on freeing his fellow Masqueraiders from their imprisonment, the leaf color feathers on his hat bouncing side to side. 

"There ya' are Ricardo! I'm surprised it took this long!"

He knew he couldn't go up against a beast like that. He'd get pummeled into the ground and lose every tooth he had left. His gaze wandered back to his partner's still face as he tried to think up a plan. A slight panic flowed down his spine when he noticed that his partner wasn't moving, but a quick check revealed that his heartbeat was strong and his soft breathing still there. Must have been knocked out...

He felt his arm reach for a spare curtain that was discarded next to them, and soon his partner rested under it, hidden from view. It was best to keep him secured until he woke up again.

As he observed the big green man whose name was Ricardo do his big green man things, a sudden flash of vibrant red caught his gaze. Someone had rushed past the big hole in the wall, someone clad in crimson. There was no doubt about it. It had to be the Masqueraiders leader himself, Sylvester Wesley. He knew it had to be him. And if he could capture their leader, maybe he could gain an advantage over these masks who mocked him. Although maybe it wasn't Wesley, maybe there was another red-clad mask bastard. But even then, capturing any Masqueraider would be a victory at this point. His pride was on the line after all!

He glanced back at his partner, still unconscious. A seed of doubt grew in his chest, should he really leave his partner like this? After everything that had happened...

Once again, his head bounced side to side. No, he had to do this. He had to apprehend SOMEONE. His partner would be fine, he just had to be! He was hidden, they'd never find him, right? He made his decision. It was time to round up some criminals.

Yet, the feeling of doubt and worry only grew stronger as he sneaked out through the hole made by the giant. Was he doing the right thing? Is this justice? To leave an unconscious man vulnerable? He didn't know, but he pushed those thoughts to the side as he spotted the red-clad criminal again. He seemed to be rounding up the last of their loot, with a big potato sack slung over his shoulder. It was certain now, that was the Masqueraiders leader himself. The black mask and red hat gave it away.

He cleared his throat before once again pointing his weapon at the crook.

"Freeze! Police!"

He met the gaze of the black-masked man and expected to meet a pair of eyes drowned in confusion. Yet all he could spot was a slight hint of surprise and then a kind of...playful mockery. A very familiar sight by now. 

"Catch me if you can!" The Masqueraiders leader sang out as he bolted down the hallway with the goods.

He took off after him, uselessly chasing the nimble and quick Wesley. Gunshots echoed off the walls as he unleashed a salvo aimed at the leader, yet all the shots either missed or were reflected by the skilled swordsman's weapon. Every bullet, no matter where he aimed. Time after time after time again, nothing seemed to be hitting this disgustingly fast weasel. Frustration boiled in his guts, come on now! He was so tantalizingly close to regaining his dignity and getting revenge on the Masqueraiders. Yet still NOTHING!

A roar of anger escaped him, his feet moving even faster. All he got back from Wesley was a coy grin and just...the most punchable expression ever.

"Hah! You're way too slow, ever considered hitting the gym?!" 

"Shut up!"

"You're not my dad so you can't tell me what to doooo~"

He was gonna crack Wesleys skull open like a watermelon. He was gonna do it, nothing could stop him from squeezing that stupid overconfident head in like a pimple. And he actually seemed to be closing in on him! His gun had run out of ammo by now, but he was hot on his heels now!

Wait, was he deliberately slowing down? Was Wesley running slower to ridicule him even more? Oh, this motherfucker...

He was laser-focused now, not considering where his feet were taking him. So when he ran into an open exhibit, he didn't notice the danger lurking by the stage lights. He just wanted to commit some nice ol' murder on the man who kept taunting him.

"Veronica! Now!"

But that, that stopped him a bit. What? Was Wesley calling for backup? But, there's nobody here. Or is there? Wait who was Veronica? He followed Wesley's gaze and noticed a lady dressed in purple sitting by one of the stage lights. She had a very similar mask to the big green-

He couldn't see any more details of her, or see at all for that matter. A scream clawed its way out of his lungs, his eyes feeling like they were burning. His body swayed from side to side, and his sweaty hands were covering his eyes. The empty gun clattered to the floor. That bitch, she'd used the stage light like a flashbang! The force against his face provided by his hands harshened, trying to block out as much as he could.

"Oh, how the turntables turn!"

He felt Wesley's presence next to him, teasing him. Oh, he wanted nothing more than to beat his ass, but he couldn't get his hands off his face without causing worse pain. An angry gurgle was what he gave in response.

"Aw, how cute. Did you really think you could catch the great Sylvester Wesley? One of the sneakiest sneakers who have ever sneaked? With your rancid vibes? Don't make me laugh! Or well, I'm already laughing, so jokes on you!" Ugh, that dumb tone...

"I can't believe you managed- What Veronica? ...Aw come on can't I just mess with him a little more? Yeah yeah, I know there's probably- Veronica can you make a little exception- OKAY okay FINE I'll knock him out and we'll leave with the loot. You owe me a pop tart now."

"Toooo deee looo turtle, have fun in dreamland!"

Before he could even fight back, something hard impacted the side of his head. He was swallowed up by the sweet release of unconsciousness, something he'd been craving all day. The last thing he knew was the cold feel of the floor, and the faint sound of footsteps burrowing into his ear.

Darkness...A rumbling noise of somebody talking to him...He slowly felt himself returning to the land of the awake, a killer pain pounding in his head. The first thing he sees when he opens his eyes is his partner with a few bandages tied around his head. He talked, and talked, and talked. He looked kinda cute like this, hair all fluffed up and features so soft. But he's talking too fast for him to pick anything up.

Although all those thoughts disappear when he notices something on his stomach. His hand closes around the object, his partner's worried squawks becoming nothing but background noise. It was a black velvet mask.

He couldn't take his gaze off it, it was locked to this replica of Wesley's famous mask. As his partner finally got a grip on him and started carrying him out of the destroyed museum, there was only one thought on his mind.

"I'll get that bastard, I'll throw him behind bars myself."

Untitled part 2

This gif is completely unrelated but I thought it was funny

It was the rough texture of Mike’s tongue on my face that woke me from my morning slumber.  It didn’t bother me, in fact, I was more of a morning person.  I stripped my clothes and headed for a quick shower.  It was trash day.  Sunday was trash day for everyone, but I made sure to get up early to avoid jamming my trash in an overflow of garbage. Slipping on black leggings and my bunny night shoes I fed Mike and tied my trash.

Garbage in hand I slipped out my door hoping to avoid Jessie.  For some strange reason around this time, she did yoga on the lawn outside the gym.  Maybe she just liked nature.  I looked in the parking lot tugging my trash behind me.  I noticed the black Porsche from yesterday parked beside my KIA.  It wasn’t the same one, I just decided to buy a newer version.  I never cared for lavish cars.  If we wanted to park under a shade Abe also had a 15 car garage.

“Michonne, baby!”  A loud voice bellowed startling me.  Jessie fell in the grass; I didn’t even see her there.

“Good morning Negan.”  He was a nice guy if you got past the fact that he was a man whore.  He trotted in my direction also totting a bag of garbage.

He licked his lips smiling.  “I’m glad I got to see your beautiful face this week.”  Those dimples were tempting but I knew the truth behind them.

“Me too.  How are your girlfriend’s?”   I asked nicely.  We walked pass Jessie who was shooting daggers at Negan.

His face turned sour.  “Don’t think I didn’t notice the s dear. I’m settling down now.  The life I use to live doesn’t quite suit me anymore. Don’t you think?”

“Right,”  I responded with a smile knowing everything that came out of his mouth was bullshit.

“A little birdie told me you have a new neighbor, I was thinking about moving next to you.  Just to be a little closer.  But no! Fucker snatched my spot.”  Talk about laying it on thick.  He raised the garbage lid to throw in our trash.

“If it makes you feel any better.  It looks like they’re a couple.”  He looked surprised as I told him.

“That doesn’t put me at ease sweetheart…”  His gaze drifted to Jessie as she touched her toes with her hips angling in the air.  I rolled my eyes.  This man was a trip.

“I’m sure we’ll talk later Negan.”  I made my way back to my place and in the kitchen.  I let the water run over my hands, the foam went down the drain. I opened my fridge and eyed the remainder of Carol’s cookies.  Despite my terrible first impression of Lori, I really wanted to try.  Who knows maybe I’d even get a breakthrough with her.  I grabbed the pan and headed next door.

I took a deep breath as the gold seven gleamed at me.  I wasn’t sure what made me feel a bit self-conscious.  I pulled my locs into a ponytail but I felt my tank top riding up when I knocked on the door.  I probably looked like a suck up already.  Just to add a little flare I threw on a big smile before the door opened.

Lori looked confused until she clocked the pan of cookies in my hand. “Sorry for the awkwardness yesterday. I brought some cookies, sort of a home warming gift.”  Lori smiled at me awkwardly and relieved me of the pan.  I told myself, I was doing this for new clothes and Mike.  I peeped behind Lori into the living room.  I frowned, it lacked the feminine touch. Strange since Lori wore exuberant colors, much like the red expensive dress she had on.

“I don’t eat cookies.  They make you fat.”  She stared at me as if to prove a point.  I could’ve sworn my palms twitched.

“Okay, if you don’t like them can you give them back?”   I held my hands out for the pan that never touched it.  

 “That’s fine I’m sure Rick will enjoy them.”  Her boyfriend no doubt.  I tried my best to hang onto my smile.  I noticed some movement behind Lori but she deliberately blocked my view when I tried to peek.  Okay, I get that she didn’t want me looking at her man but I wanted to look at her man. Only to ease my budding curiosity. Carol never told me how he looked. Besides, I didn’t want to have sex with him.  At this point, I’m borderline asexual.

She gave me a tight-lipped smile when a deep voice caused her head to turn. “Who’s at the door, Lori?”  He had a southern accent to his voice.  Mama always said a man with a deep southern voice was nothing but trouble.  Abe didn’t count, he was married.

Lori kept her mouth shut, slowly inching the door close.  “Well, I guess I’ll see you later,”  I shouted on purpose.  I’m sure in another life Lori and I could be friends, but in this one, she was a bitch.  

“Oh,” He said from inside.  “Remind me to get groceries before I get back here.”  He sounded a bit frustrated.  I heard a slam of what I assumed to be the fridge door.  

“Well, I’m sure I’ll see you around uhhh…”

“Michonne.”  I supplied a little annoyed.

She chuckled dismissively.  “Oh, right. How could I forget that?”

I didn’t bother waiting for her to shut the door in my face.  I retreated to my apartment deciding to get Carol’s pan back tomorrow.  Hopefully before either of them went to work.  Mike was snuggling against the cushions on my couch, purring.  I smiled sadly.  I knew some days he was in pain but I was too selfish to let him go just yet.  Maybe Carol was right.  Maybe my toxic past with online shopping could be overlooked. Sighing in defeat I went in search for my laptop.

Four hours later I had numerous tabs open.  All consisting of victoria secrete, Nike, Gucci and many more.  My eyes were burning.  With over two hundred items in total, I was about to call it quits but my mouse still hovered over the buy button.  To buy or not to buy.  It was a difficult choice to make, every time I ordered something it either never came or came too small.  Every single time.  

I sighed after hearing a knock on my door.  Recently it seemed to be a common occurrence, knocking on doors.  I dragged myself off the couch leaving Mike to tiredly scratch at the monitor.

I probably looked high by the time I answered the door.  I knew for a fact my eyes resembled the hair of the burly man standing in front of me.

“Hey, Abe.”  Besides the numerous cameras on the property, high gates and security codes I felt safer knowing an ex-militant was living next door to me.

“For an introvert, you’re a bit too friendly.”   I was indeed a bit too friendly to the guy sporting a white wife beater and a big ass cigar.  He continued “Just wanted to let you know we’re having a little gathering by the pool next week.  Give you some time to gather your introverted wits.”  I leaned against my door frame.

“Is this gathering a special occasion?”  I asked curiously.  The only gathering they did was once a month at a restaurant, as far as I knew.

“Very!” He boomed.  “I thought you met your new neighbor already?”  Everyone knew I always tried to suck up to the new neighbor.

“Oh, I did.  They seemed…nice enough.”  It wasn’t a complete lie.  Lori was a bitch but I guess the guy warranted the ‘nice enough’.

“They?  Anyway, Rick’s an old squadmate of mine, saved my ass more times than I can count.”  Is there a way too feel doubly safer?  He could bring more of his squad mates, I’d offer a trade for Jessie any day.

I frowned, “Why didn’t you celebrate when I moved in?  Let alone everyone else?”

“Why are dingle berries brown?”  I didn’t even know what that meant.  “Like I said he’s an old buddy of mine, we go way back.  I thought you guys would’ve hit it off,” The only thing that would hit it off was my palm against Lori’s face if she tried me again. “He loves your work.”  Wasn’t that something special?

“You didn’t say who I was, did you?”

“Your secret is safe with me.”  He tapped an arm against his chest then used two fingers to draw an invisible x.

“Am I required to wear a swimsuit?  Because if I have to I’m not going.”  I didn’t want to sound snobby or prudish.  I was proud of my body and learned to embrace my weight along with the flaws but I didn’t want Negan barking around me like a dog in heat.  

“It’s optional and try to keep an eye out for squirrels around the gym. Jessie’s been complaining about them stealing her grapes while she did yoga.”  She doesn’t even do yoga in the gym, but I’ll keep my mouth shut.

After assuring Abe that i’d keep a look out for squirrels I went back to my laptop.

 Monday was my elected day of work.  I’d wake up at five and head to the gym. After that, the rest of the hours were devoted to working on my pieces.  Being my own boss had its perks.  Thankfully the gym was empty when I got there.  I hit the treadmill with my headphones deeply rooted in my ears.  My feet pounded against the machine and the world fell away.  Nothing but classical music filled ears, my breathing began to match the pitch of trumpets and the strum of the violin.  Twenty minutes passed and I began to slow down.  Grabbing a towel I wiped off the sweat draining down my brow.

I needed to get Carol’s pan back.  That was always the awkward part of schmoozing, the first time was always weird. They’d answer the door looking at me weirdly until I asked for the dish.  I did squats along with some crunches before I headed back upstairs.

Standing before my neighbor’s door I silently hoped I didn’t have to slap anyone.  I hoped for a peaceful morning greeting without any hostility.  I took a deep breath before hitting my knuckles against the door and I waited.  And waited. Turning around I made sure the black Porsche was still next to my red KIA.  And it was.  Glowering at the door I knocked again, a bit harder than last time.  Maybe they didn’t get up this early, it was six in the morning after all.  I had a regeneration smoothie to make so hopefully someone would get up and open the door soon.

I was about to knock again when the door swung open and I was met with a broad-shouldered man with the bluest eyes.  Carol was right, the bearded man from Saturday wasn’t homeless, obviously. I just stood there silently taking him in.  I peered at the unruliness of his curls which ended at the nape of his neck.  His brown shirt clung to his figure, it was obvious he worked out.  I was never one for facial hair but his beard made me feel so hot.  Here I was standing before him with my mouth hanging open and the scent of sweat from my workout still clinging onto me.  I understood why Lori hid her man from me, I’d do the same if he were mine too.

His eyebrows were tightly knitted no doubt wondering why a maniac like me was banging on his door.  To the best of my ability, I gathered my wits remembering why I was knocking on his door at six am in the first place.

“Umm G-good morning.”  Now I was a stuttering mess.  Get it together Michonne!  I went seven years without finding attractive men attractive. This one wasn’t any different.

He had a small smile on his lips.  “Good morning…”  I forgot he had a southern drawl.

“umm, I left my pan here yesterday…I was wondering if I could get that back?”  He seemed amused by my frazzled state.

Running a hand through his curls in an effort to tame it he opened the door a little wider.  “Come inside, I’ll get it for you.”  He saw my hesitation.  “It wouldn’t be very nice if I left you outside.”  He explained.  It was just something about him, just being around him.  I couldn’t trust myself, but there I was going inside this man’s condo.

I stared at his back but I couldn’t help that my gaze went down to his ass encased in grey shorts.  What do they call these shorts now?  Dick shorts? Okay, I was positive I needed to lay off tumblr for a while.  I found my way to his leather couch.  Nothing really changed since peeking inside here yesterday.  The walls were still white and bland.  I appreciated the glass coffee table before me, it added a bit of color to the entire living room with one yellow stripe.  Other than that everything just screamed bland bachelor pad. For someone that Abe said loved my work, I guess I expected a tad more color.  I crossed my legs deciding to keep my hands to myself as I perched on the edge of his couch.  The less of my sweat I got on his things, the better.

“Can I get you anything? Water, tea, coffee?”  I looked over at the kitchen after hearing a clatter of dishes.  He ducked behind the counter when he came back up Carol’s dish was in his hands.

“No thanks, I actually have a smoothie to make.”  

“Oh, you were in the gym?”  Though it was a question it was more of an observation.  As if noticing my attire for the first time, I felt his eyes slide across my seated figure.  It was unnerving how my skin prickled with awareness.  At thirty, I was too old to be lusting after someone else’s man.

He approached me, holding out Carol’s precious pan.  “Thank you for the cookies, I washed and dried the pan for you.” Grabbing the pan I held on for dear life.  I felt completely surrounded by him.  He was just so close to me. I huffed ignoring my thoughts. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his shorts and of course, my eyes darted to the movement.  Tumblr was onto something when they called it dick shorts, the name had a purpose.  I gaped at the impressive tint currently pressing against the grey fabric. Maybe it was just the horny haze muddling my mind but I could’ve sworn it twitched toward me.

He coughed, drawing my attention to his face.  He knew I was staring, hell I knew I was staring and it wasn’t an accident. Even though he knew I was gaping at his crotch his face didn’t give it away.  His face still held a small friendly smile.  This was out of character for me, I didn’t go around blatantly staring at men’s crotches.  I needed to get out of here.

“I’m really sorry about banging on your door this early.  I didn’t think about you still being asleep and all.”  I cringed inwardly.  Of course, he was still sleeping, when he answered the door he looked as if he just tumbled out of bed.  I retreated to the door.  I wanted to run for the exit but I wanted to seem more civilized.

Waving off my apology he opened the door for me.  “Don’t worry about that.  I needed that wake-up.  Hopefully, I’ll see you around…”  He trailed off waiting for me to fill in the blank.

“Michonne.”  I supplied taking a step outside.

“Michonne…”  He repeated, testing the word.  As it spilled from his lips I started to wonder why I never invested in a vibrator. “I like it, it’s unique.”  He studied me but he was frowning now.  “I’m Rick Grimes.”  

“I knew that already.”

He chuckled looking slightly embarrassed.  “Of course you do.  Lori must’ve told you.  I’ll be right here if you need anything.”  Well, I needed panties, bras, shirts, dresses, sandals and the list can go on but I’m sure he didn’t mean that.

“Same to you Rick.”  My fist lightly tapped his shoulder, it was a dorky move but I was graced with a wide smile.  But when he licked his lips I averted my eyes.  I stared at the spot above his head when I said my farewells and left.

May I present, DOCTOR STRANGE! Yes, I’m Mr. Cumberbatch can’t you tell?! Well I will tell you that I’m not Stephanie Strange. Who isn’t a character in the Marvel Universe but yet I get called that for some weird reason? Hmmm.. I wonder why.🤷‍♀️  #womenincosplayprobs. BUT, I digress. Let’s chat about how I made my favorite cosplay, yes I said it, MY FAVORITE COSPLAY I EVER MADE. That’s a tall order since most people would believe that my Star Wars cosplays are my favorite. Queen Amidala is right behind Strange in the “favorite costume line up of mine”. It’s all about the connection to the character. I love Doctor Strange. He is my favorite comic book character. I will say I came into this Strange dimension later than most. I’ve read some Avengers and Defenders comics before and I’ve always been intrigued by the character but never really dove into his storyline. It wasn’t until the movie in 2015 that I just fell in love with the character. I really loved that movie. So, I immediately dove into all the comics I could get. From the old 70s comics to the newest ones, I became enthralled. To show my appreciation for my new found comic love, I had to make his outfit.

I knew this build wouldn’t be a super long build (like 9 months for Amidala), but I knew I would be figuring things out along the way. The cloak was the first piece I wanted to tackle. I fabric swatched at Joann’s Fabric and on the first go, I found the exact fabric for the cloak. It was a special order upholstery fabric. More like fabric for a beautiful red couch. I needed that heavy drape looks but still have a little free flow to it. Next, I found a sensible red velvet and boom. The outer fabric has been sourced. Then, I headed over to Spoonflower.com to find the lining. Easy! Click here for the link to Spoonflower! The design was created by Shawna Lay. Thanks, Shawna!

Yippee! Fabric found. The next items I found were all the trims, cording, interfacing, and thread that I would need for the details on the cloak. I did use some pretty special interfacing for a lot of stiff parts of this whole cosplay such as the collar and shoulder padding on the vest. This stuff is pretty awesome, it’s called Super Structure Foam from the company Sew Much Cosplay. Click here to grab some and check them out.

With all the fabrics and notions for the cloak, it’s time to build. First, the draping. I did drape the cloak, so no pattern exists from me. If you are interested in finding a pattern for the cloak. Use the McCall’s 7676 Doctor Strange pattern. You can easily chop it up and use it. In my case, draping was the easiest.

Once the cloak was draped and I had the shape I wanted, I moved to the details that needed to be handsewn or machine sewed on. The collar has couching details on the back, check it out. This took some time.

From here on out it was a lot of topstitching trim and sewing on big pieces made like the shoulder pieces. Take a look.

I got creative with the trims and textures I had. Luckily Joann’s had a lot of great choices so I didn’t have to dye anything. Let’s move to the magic checkboard velvet pattern I created by accident. The cloak has these distinct velvet checkboard pieces on it. It really boggled my mind on how to get that exact design on the velvet. I thought that I would have to use chemicals to achieve that “burnout” look, so I purchased some. I really couldn’t get it to work well and I just hated dealing with it. I was using wax based chalk to draw out the designs on the velvet to establish an area for the chemicals. At one point, I made a mistake and to remove wax chalk mistake, you hit it with an iron and the chalk marks are removed. So I did that, and surprisingly a residue was left behind on the velvet causing the velvet to have a darker tone where the chalk was. GENIUS! So I grabbed my chalk and rulers then went to town.

It was pretty easy, draw out the design you want, hit it with the iron. Don’t forget to place a press cloth in between just to be safe. Turned out great!

The next couple of images are showing where I placed the checkerboard velvet pieces.

Here are some close ups of the shoulder piece creation.

With almost all my costumes, custom embroidery is added. This time, the custom parts were added to the borders of the cloak. I was able to find a blurry image of the piece online and then I cleaned it up in Adobe Illustrator, transferred it to my Embroidery design software, made it into an embroidery file, then moved it to my embroidery machine. Off it goes!

Now! It’s time to add the lining and call it done!

Very proud of this build so far! The cloak was a task. Let’s take a break.

I wanted to take a tiny break from sewing and work on some of the prop pieces for Doctor Strange. I was very lucky to have a great buddy from Twitter 3D print me the Eye of Agamotto (that works!), a sling ring, and the 2 triangle clasps on the cloak. SO MANY THANKS TO @JediJeremy. Seriously dude, thank you. Once I got the pieces, I painted them with gold leaf paint and then weathered with acrylic paint.

After the gold prop pieces were done, I moved to make the vest and tunic. Originally I thought I was going to completely draft these pieces with my own measurements, but I was just getting tired and I knew I could chop up the McCalls 7676 pattern to fit me just fine I made some mockups and did a lot of alterations, but it worked and fit great. If you want to use this pattern for your own Doctor Strange, go for it! Just be aware of the alterations you will have to do especially if you are trying to fit it around curves. I ended up raising the waistline up like 4-6 inches, thus also raising the hems too. Plus taking it in a lot on the sides and shoulder line.

As I stated above, I used simple linens and cotton for the fabrics. Just having the tunic and vest color is a tad different than the other. I completed the tunic using the McCalls pattern and added my own details like the striped pattern around the neckline. Those are just top stitched ribbons layered on each other. I ultimately ended up removing the zipper and just having it open. Worked better for the neckline. 

Now the vest. The details I added into my vest are some of my favorite parts of the entire outfit. The best part of that is that it was pretty simple just time-consuming. Following the pattern from McCalls and then altering to my size, I then chose an X shaped embroidery stitch on my Bernina sewing machine. With about 4 different blue colored thread, I stitched vertical line after vertical line alternating the different blue colors. Take a look.

Neat! The last thing I added to the vest was to the shoulders. I wanted a sharp shoulder with a bit of padding but not a lot. So I grabbed the super structure foam that I spoke about above, cut a should pad shape and ironed it on. Then ran some more vertical stitches through to give it a quilted look. Loved it! To finish out the vest, I added random ribbons and selvage edges of fabrics to the armhole edges. Turned out great!

OK! Almost done. The waist cincher corset was simple.

I just used McCall’s 7555 Yaya Han underbust corset. I altered it to what I needed but it worked just fine. Used some heavy black cotton fabric.

Now what’s left are the belts, cuffs, boots, and wig. I purchased two “belt” trims from Joann’s and did little to no major alts to them. The main belts were made from black yarn woven into a 5 strand braid, the other belt I purchased was some black vinyl trim woven into a 4 strand braid. BOOM! I added brown vinyl bias to the black vinyl belt on the edges then hand sewed on snaps. Next, the woven belt was a bit different. View the photos below to get a good grasp of the pattern of that particular belt. Once I figured out the shape, I created the silver ring from EVA foam coated with plasti-dip and silver paint with black weathering spots too.

The details I added next are near and dear to me. With every costume I create, I give the opportunity for anyone to become a part of my costumes via donations through the site, Ko-Fi. Any donation made to my cosplays fund, I will add your name into my outfit somewhere/somehow. For this outfit, my donators got their initials etched into the metal details on my belt. Take a look!

To finish up the belts, I took some black leather strands and wrapped the silver ring. Then I took more of the leather strands and wove it into the knitted black belt. See below

  Ok, belts are done! Move to the cuffs, these were easy in my opinion. First thing is to pattern your forearms, yes both because most people have two different sized forearms, then cut out 4 pieces of fabric with your pattern. 4 pieces because you will need to layer to make the cuffs more durable. Joann’s gets another win here because the trim pieces I found where from here too. Thanks Joann. Also, don’t forget to grab two separating zippers for your cuffs. Take a look at how I created them below, don’t be afraid to get a little haphazard with your placement.

After the cuffs where done, I then hit it with an airbrush to weather it. Anytime I can airbrush things, I’m all about it.

ARE WE DONE YET?! Nope! Hang tight, boots and wig left. My boots were super easy, basically, I purchased some cute knee high lace up boots from Amazon, then stitched on blue linen scraps. Yup, done. lol. I also airbrushed them too. Can’t stop, won’t stop. AIRBRUSH!

LAST THING! HERE WE GO. Wig time. I had the wonderful opportunity to win a seasonal sponsorship from Arda Wigs for my Doctor Strange cosplay. The sponsorship would cover my wig costs. THANKS, ARDA! So the wig and wig parts I chose are the Virginia Classic Lace Front in Dark Brown and Silver weft to tie in the sides of the wig. I actually made a Youtube tutorial video on the creation of the wig so take a peek below!

The last thing I want to add is my super awesome spell prop made by my buddy, Bubblesgal0re. If you are interested in grabbing one for yourself, shoot her an email!

If you have any questions at all, please feel free to contact me through email or any of my social media. I’m always ready to answer questions you have about your or my builds. Thank you so much for reading another long How-To blog post. I do appreciate it. My next posts will be all about my Luke Skywalker and Qi’ra build. MTFBWY ❤ Amanda

Doctor Strange photos from Alexandra Lee Studios

  Let’s get Strange. May I present, DOCTOR STRANGE! Yes, I'm Mr. Cumberbatch can't you tell?! Well I will tell you that I'm not Stephanie Strange.

✒︎ ✒︎ ✒︎ ✒︎ ✒︎

Random, dumb, pointless fact #1: Gizmo is allergic to bananas.

If he eats them, not only does he get a terrible stomach ache, but he breaks out in hives and will itch his fur right off in spots. The hives usually last about 24 hours, and when he has them, he’s absolutely miserable. He’ll grumble and complain and no matter how many times you tell him not to itch, he’ll itch. Especially the moment your back is turned and he thinks you’re not watching him. This is an allergy unique to him, though, as other mogwai can eat bananas without issue.

Since he cannot eat bananas, Gizmo needs other sources of potassium in order to remain healthy. The best thing for him in a big bowl of crispy, juicy spinach leaves. If you coax him well enough or offer him another treat in return for eating them, Gizmo might do it, but he hates the taste of spinach. It’s too bitter, according to him. He will eat sweet potatoes, but only if they’re loaded with marshmallows and possibly a drizzle of caramel. He had them prepared that way once and now he refuses to eat them any other way because it was simply that tasty.

But you know what is loaded with potassium that Gizmo loves and can’t get enough of? Avocados. He loves the creamy texture of an avocado at the perfect point of ripeness, and he is incredibly enthusiastic about guacamole. So if you need toget some potassium into him and you want him to be happy at the same time, give him some corn chips and guacamole. He’ll love you for it. Try to get the unsalted chips, though, as too much salt is really bad for mogwai. It dehydrates them very quickly.

Random, dumb, pointless fact #2: Gizmo does not like his back or rump scratched.

It’s a common thing with cats or dogs to want to scratch their backsides, and for the most part, those animals like it. Gizmo, however, does not appreciate being scratched where he cannot see. It just… weirds him out, especially if he doesn’t see your hand coming first and then just feels the scratches. He is very small and has the mentality of a prey animal, so he gets skiddish when someone or something comes from either up high or behind him. It triggers an instinctive fear which understandably upsets him.

If you must scratch him somewhere, do it on the top of his head or behind his ears. While he can’t see there either, at least he can see your hand coming and it’s much less weird and scary for him. He actually really likes to be scratched behind his ears because sometimes they get itchy back there and he can’t really reach up that high.

Random, dumb, pointless fact #3: Gizmo does not like to be picked up without warning, and especially not without his permission.

It’s scary for Gizmo to suddenly be picked up and lifted into the air. If there is nothing below his feet for a long distance, he gets very nervous that he might be dropped. Also, he has a bit of a phobia about being squeezed too hard around his chest or stomach. Think about it, how would you feel if you were suddenly picked up by hands that squeezed you too tight around your midsection? Wouldn’t you be scared?

Because of these things, he prefers to only be picked up by people he already knows and trusts, or at least to be given some warning so he can prepare himself mentally. The simple act of asking his permission before you go to pick him up can put him in a good mood and alleviate much of his fear. Also treating him gently will of course help. The golden rule with Gizmo is, if he’s not smiling and/or reaching up to you with his arms, don’t pick him up.

Random, dumb, pointless fact #4: Mogwai can see in color.

Unlike some other animals, mogwai see a vast array of colors in their vision that is on par with human vision. This means that they can see different colors of clothes you might wear, can see different colored lights on a holiday tree, and enjoy hobbies like painting or coloring where they can play with the vibrant hues.

However, this also means that they are naturally afraid of the color red. To many animals that see in color, red is a warning sign. Depending upon the species, red markings can signify a dangerous or poisonous animal, or red can simply mean there’s blood in the area. If there’s blood… there may be a dangerous predator around too. For Gizmo, the latter applies. If he sees red or anything that looks like blood, he gets scared. This means that even if he get a tiny paper cut or a tiny bump on his head that bleeds a little (like he did in the first movie), he will get very upset and unnerved.

Having said that, during a painting or color session, Gizmo will use red colors, as it is understood that he is in a safe environment and that the red being used is only for artistic purposes. But if you wear a bright red sweater, he might tell you he doesn’t like it, haha. The wardrobe exception to this rule is, of course, santa hats. He loves those. =)

Random, dumb, pointless fact #5: Mogwai are very tactile animals.

Mogwai communicate through touching often, whether by nuzzling someone, touching them with their hands or even just wanting to be close to or lay against someone. Theyalso love to feel textured fabrics! Gizmo himself loves soft fabrics like suede, corduroy, satin, and velvet. Wrap him up in a velvety blanket and you’ll hear the most adorable cooing possible. He does not like wet-feeling or sticky surfaces.

Being very curious sorts, mogwai will tend to touch things they don’t understand or that they are interested in. This can be a problem for the average mogwai owner, as this can present some amount of danger. Gizmo especially will want to touch things that are very hot or cold, or that look like they have an interesting texture.

Also… buttons. Oh my goodness, buttons. Gizmo loves buttons, so look out. If he sees one, he’s going to push it, even if he doesn’t know what it does. Actually… especially if he doesn’t know what it does. XD

2018 Honda Fit Sport 6MT Review

By Bradley Harris

So I'll admit... I ended up getting behind the wheel of my Lunar Silver 2018 Honda Fit Sport rather unexpectedly. I wasn't even totally sure about getting a new (to me) car, as I had no down payment, and have recently been making the majority of my income from Uber, which is a hard gig to get financing approval on. However, I got an email from a Honda dealer advertising financing for all, so I decided to give it a try at least.

When I arrived, I specified that if at all possible, I'd like a car with a manual transmission. As luck would have it, the only manual car available was a slightly used Fit Sport. After a quick test drive, I liked the look and was rather impressed with the transmission and unexpectedly peppy pickup, the space, and the Android Auto integration. On top of that, the dealer was willing to give me some time with the car to earn the down payment with Uber, so I said, "Let's make this deal happen!" As it turns out, I couldn't imagine many other cars making me happier to drive it with Uber than this car, and really, it is simply a solid automotive value - period.

In terms of exterior styling, I rather like the car a lot. This is where the "Sport" trim moniker makes the most impact, as exterior aesthetic upgrades are the only changes Honda made in creating the Sport trim, other than adding contrasting orange stitching to the otherwise very very black interior, which at least has varied textures and some metallic finishes to keep it from looking like a black hole of plastic. Honda added sporty-looking front and rear bumper caps with orange trim lines, as well as sill extensions, a roof spoiler, and gloss black wheels to achieve a sportier look, and by most accounts, it's successful. I've received a few compliments on the look of the car.

Overall, "Fit" is perhaps the most apropos name Honda could have given this car. It's diminutive dimensions, at 161.8 inches long, 67 inches wide, and 60 inches tall mean that it can fit in even some of the tightest parking spaces without issue, making it ideal for impacted parking areas in urban environs. Don't let its small size fool you, though, as its capacious interior, assisted by that 60 inch height, has 39.5 inches of headroom in the front seats and 37.5 inches in the rear, 41.4 inches of front / 39.3 inches of rear legroom, and 54.8 inches of front / 52.6 inches of rear shoulder room. I've regularly had people 6' - 6'2" sit in the front seat without complaint with someone comfortably seated behind them that was anywhere from 5'2" to 5'9". I myself, at 5'10", find the Fit accommodates me quite well seated behind myself, with 3 inches of additional kneeroom between me and the front seat no less! A very regular comment I get is, "Wow! What car is this again? It's so roomy in here!" Honda's designers and engineers have achieved nothing short of a small miracle getting so much space from such compact dimensions.

In terms of luggage space, it has 16.6 cubic feet with the "Magic Seat" second row up and 52.7 cubic feet with it down, so called magic because with one pull of the lever located on the back of each section of the 60/40 split folding seat, the seat goes down in one fell swoop to create a totally flat rear load floor. For reference, that 16.6 cubes of space with the seat up is as much as you'll get in the trunk of most mid-size family sedans, including Honda's own Accord, at 16.7 cubic feet, and it's incredibly useable, with only minor intrusions from the spaces for the rear shocks. I once helped an Uber rider cart home 7 large plants from Home Depot, folding the 60 section of the Magic Seat to accomodate it all. We both were impressed. (Funnily enough, she chose to ride in the 40 section of the seat in the second row amidst her small forest, rather than ride shotgun, because it would be weird sitting up front I guess... 😂)

All the controls and instruments fall easily at hand, and honestly, it's an intuitive and easy cabin to figure out. One niggle I've found, though, is that the center armrest is quite small and a bit low for my liking, which is too low for my right arm when not busy steering or shifting. Also, the only item I thus far have needed to reference the owner's manual for is the infotainment system. While I've not tested the old head unit with the digital adjustment for volume which was much maligned, the volume knob/power button is the only hard control for infotainment aside from the brightness button. Overall, it's a pretty easy-to-use system, but figuring out the display screen options was a bit of a head scratcher, even after I referred to the manual. It took some digging in online forums for me to finally understand how that part works, which is a frustration which shouldn't be the case, but which in the grand scheme, isn't all that huge.

The last niggle, and this is a rather large one, is that the system can be quite glitchy from time to time. I'll be driving, and the Android Auto will cut out saying my phone isn't compatible with Android Auto (me thinking, "Aaaaaaaaall of a sudden"). This one isn't much of a bother, as it just takes a quick unplug/replug of the cable into the phone to fix it. The bigger problem is that the system will completely shutdown at random, not often, but often enough that I've begun to think it has a mind of its own. Worse, it takes the system around 2-3 minutes to completely reboot and start up again, during which a lot of navigating would have needed to happen, and the silence which it creates can be defeaning when Uber riders are onboard. Thankfully, Android Auto does pickup the slack on the device at times, continuing to announce directions from it, and if it doesn't, the Uber app is showing the route as well. The system's excuse that it suddenly lost power is invalid, however, as this mishap happens most while in motion, and it's something Honda needs to address.

As for positives of the infotainment, while I don't have an iPhone to test Apple Carplay integration, the Android Auto integration is👌🏼. One can stream from any audio source on their phone when using Android Auto, and Google Maps is better than almost any nav system an automaker could integrate into the system. What's even neater is that with my Uber app set to navigate from Google maps, when I hit navigate in the driver app, it pulls up on Google maps in the center stack screen and starts navigating with only a second or two load time.

The upgraded audio available with the Sport and above, at 6 channels (two tweeters near the base of the windshield, and one full range speaker in each of the 4 doors) and 180 watts of total output, is rather decent for a car in this class, and can reach up in volume with little sound distortion aside from some bass muddiness. It has adequate connectivity too, with streaming Bluetooth audio as well as a USB port and 12V outlet lower in the center stack above a bin just behind the cupholders where one can store their phone. An additional outlet and USB port are in the center console. No AUX outlet means easy switching between your device and a passenger's for audio source duty isn't easily possible, though in most cases I think many will find that a plus. Additionally, there are no charging ports behind the console for the second row.

For everyday driving duty, the audio system is more than adequate for most, though if you're someone like me who LOVES the music they listen to, you'll want to upgrade this system beyond what Honda can give you at this price point. Price considered though, the system is quite good.

The shifter, which is leather covered and stitched like a baseball (nice touch!) in the aforementioned contrasting orange (same as the sturdily-upholstered cloth seats and steering wheel for added sporty appeal), falls easily at hand, fitting in the palm beautifully and comfortably. So does the leather-lined three-spoke steering wheel, which feels nice to hold, has just the right diameter, and contains easy to use controls for cruise control, audio, and Bluetooth phone functions.

The rev counter and speedometer are analog and are very legible, while there's a digital gauge for fuel economy and fuel tank level which also shows the odometer, trip information, fuel range, and a few other useful data points. The fuel economy gauge is fun to play with as you monitor accelerator usage, and there are lights next to the speedometer that change from blue to green as revs climb, fitting with the name "Earth Dreams" Honda has given to its latest set of engine tech. I personally feel adding a red light as one approached redline would be a nice-to-have addition, especially since this is the "Sport" model.

There's actually quite a copious number of beverage holders, with a spot for bottles on each of the four doors, as well as two reasonably-sized cup holders ahead of the shifter, and one cup holder that expands out of the dash up at the drivers left side near the air vent. That placement is very very convenient, I've found.

One last note on the cabin. Build quality is stellar! Panel gaps and trim fittings are all tight, and after about 18,000 miles of driving, there's been no squeaks, rattles, or other untoward noises.

Soooooo, finally, how does it drive?

Competent. Very competent. Its responses are mostly well-controlled, with quick, responsive steering and a composed ride quality; though, as can be expected for a car in this price range, sharp impacts are heard and felt, and there is a bit of float and flopping over on quick transitions that I wish the "Sport" moniker could have dialed out. Also, the rear end will stutter and skip a bit on broken pavement when near the limits of the tires' adhesion, thanks to its torsion-beam rear axle. As it is, all suspension and mechanical settings are the same across the board for the Fit from trim to trim. The steering is relatively numb, though there is a tiny bit of feedback coming through the steering right at the limit. You can feel the tires begin to break traction and push into understeer, but the buildup to that is quiet, as is the case with most electric steering setups these days. A bit of lift throttle will quickly reign in the front end, which otherwise will generally go where it's pointed with precision. The short wheelbase really helps with making the car lithe and responsive, as does it's low 2,648-pound weight.

The shifter is mostly a joy to work, with silken glides from gate to gate and a solid, mechanical feel as it enters the gear. However, from time to time, the shifts can get a touch balky, and even refuse to enter the gate, which necesitates a full clutch out/in to get it to cooperate. Pedal placement is also great for whether you heal-and-toe or not.

Overall, though, the Fit is a relatively slow car that can be quite fun to drive fast, as its limits are within reach on the street and can be explored without necessarily endangering your license. Freeway onramps become your skidpad, and feeling the 1.5 liter's i-VTEC cam changeover as you reach freeway speeds in the upper range reminds you why anybody makes a big deal about it. There's a noticeable increase in acceleration as it happens, at you really feel every one of its 128 horsepower working. It's acceleration, while not breathtaking, is surprisingly peppy. It has a rather delightful VTEC song, too, with a full induction sound that will give you flashbacks of some of Honda's greatest engines.

In terms of fuel economy, this little machine is a sweetheart. It's EPA-rated at 29 city / 36 highway / 31 combined, and in mixed driving, I'm getting anywhere between 32 and 35. Plus, with just a 10.6 gallon tank, I'm super happy paying only about $26 per fillup of 87 octane at current prices in my area hovering around $3.19. As an Uber driver, this kind of fuel economy/cost are a boon, as it means I can make a lot more money from each tank than I can in many other vehicles, and the expense doesn't cut too much into the profit.

The Sport trim includes none of the Honda Sensing suite of safety tech available on the EX and EX-L, but being an enthusiast, I personally don't want or miss any of it. While there are many consumers who find comfort in the extra safety, there's just no replacement for good driving, and I find that this car, with a manual, is great car for honing one's skills to become a better driver for everyone. The tall greenhouse on the Fit means that sightlines all around are phenomenal. A camera checking my blind spots would be redundant, as doing it in this car is easy to do myself. With my hands full between the shifter and steering and my feet with the pedals, my attention is squarely on my driving, and it makes me very aware of what I'm doing and how I can do it better. There's no room for distracted driving!

Honda has built a real winner with the Fit, and despite the Sport trim only looking sportier than its other trims, its driving dynamics, while not outright sporty, are at least composed enough to be fun in between serving commute duties. With a mixture of space, versatility (+1 for the hatchback), economy, and infotainment tech, the Fit Sport is a great car for enthusiasts on a budget who must make some compromises for life. Commuters on a budget will find they had to compromise very little, if at all, with the Fit, and with the extra safety tech of upper trims and niceties like leather, heated front seats, and a moonroof, the Fit is capable of fit-ting most people's needs and lifestyles very, very well at a price that won't break the bank.

Best of 2019: The 35 Facial Skincare Products That I Loved Most This Year (from Tools to Treatments)

As we wrap up 2019—and the entire decade—I'm looking back at ALL the products I tried over the last 12 months to choose the absolute best of the best. (I think I've fallen in love with way too many products over the years to even attempt a 10-year retrospective!)

Since my 2018 list was practically a novel, I'm going to break this down into two parts.

First up is facial skincare (my favourite). From cleansers to serums to gadgets, I test-drove heaps of new launches this year, while remaining loyal to a few Holy Grail items. 

Here are the highlights—and stay tuned for my makeup, haircare and bodycare picks, coming up next!

The Best Skincare Products of 2019

Two of my favourite skincare products of 2019: Summer Fridays CC Me Serum and A313 Vitamin A Pommade.

Best Makeup Remover

BIOeffect Micellar Cleansing Water

There's nothing wrong with good ol' Bioderma to remove makeup, but I do love my BIOeffect Micellar Cleansing Water even more. It's fragrance-free, non-drying, and made with clean ingredients—and it's every bit as effective. Plus, it doesn't leave any residue on your skin afterward.

Best Cleansing Water

S.W. Basics Cleanser

S.W. Basics Cleanser is sort of like a micellar water, except it's made with just three natural ingredients, and you do need to rinse it off. I love this one for an ultra-gentle morning cleanse.

Best Foaming Cleanser

Omorovicza Cleansing Foam

My favourite cleanser purchase of 2019 was definitely Omorovicza Cleansing Foam. Unlike most foaming cleansers, it has a luxurious creamy texture, yet it still rinses off clean (and won't dry out your skin). Highly recommend! I also used the Indie Lee Purifying Face Wash this year, which is a good choice for oily skin.

Best Gel Cleanser

Youth to the People Superfood Cleanser

I love the Youth to the People Superfood Cleanser so much, I went through more than half a bottle this year. Most gel cleansers tend to be a bit drying, but not this one—it never leaves my face feeling tight. In fact, it's so gentle, any skin type can use it (even dry skin). The other gel cleansers I tested out were from Glow Recipe, Odacité and Indie Lee, and I'd recommend all of those, too! 

Best Gel-Cream Cleanser

Lano Face Base Gelcream Cleanser

For a slightly more moisturizing cleanse, I enjoyed the new Lano Face Base Gelcream Cleanser. As a gel-cream, it has the cleansing power of a gel, but the gentleness of a cream. Glossier Milky Jelly Cleanser was also in my rotation and has a similar lotion-like texture. Both are nice!

Best Cream Cleanser

Dr Roebuck's Noosa Nourishing Creme Cleanser

The best cream cleanser I used (and probably will go back to this winter) is Dr Roebuck's Noosa Nourishing Creme Cleanser. It doesn't lather, but still works perfectly to cleanse while leaving your skin soft and moisturized. I also appreciate that there's no film left behind on your skin.

Best Cleansing Brush

Foreo Luna 2 for Combination Skin

I've remained loyal to my favourite cleansing brush, the Foreo Luna 2 for Combination Skin. I talk about it all the time because it really does deep-clean your skin (especially after sunscreen or heavy makeup), and is completely hygienic and non-irritating. 

Best Face Wipes

Consonant Come Clean Anytime Natural Cleansing Cloths

I don't use face wipes very often, but when I do, Consonant Come Clean Anytime Natural Cleansing Cloths (reviewed here, for those of us in Canada) are the best. I love the simple, natural ingredients and how they make my skin feel so fresh.

Best Astringent Toner

Pyunkang Yul Acne Toner

I got really into toners this year, with the purpose of ensuring that all traces of cleanser are removed from my skin. But since I use an acid twice daily, I needed to find a toner with compatible ingredients... like Pyunkang Yul Acne Toner! This is a slightly astringent toner that is fragrance-free, alcohol-free and surprisingly inexpensive. The Benton Aloe BHA Skin Toner is a similar option, but more exfoliating (thanks to 0.5 percent salicylic acid).

Best Hydrating Toner

Indie Lee CoQ-10 Toner

As a hydrating toner, Indie Lee CoQ-10 Toner (reviewed here) is something I like to use when I need to freshen up my makeup before heading out for the evening. I simply swipe a saturated cotton pad over my skin and then re-apply my concealer or foundation. (Again, I avoid using hydrating toners before acids—in my experience, they cause a weird flushing reaction due to some incompatibility with the ingredients.)

Best Acid Exfoliant

COSRX BHA Blackhead Power Liquid

Is anyone surprised to see COSRX BHA Blackhead Power Liquid (reviewed here) on this list? I think not! I still faithfully use this beta-hydroxy acid (BHA) treatment every single morning and night, and it's what keeps my skin clear, even and glowy. BHAs are so effective, I see no reason to use alpha-hydroxy acids (AHAs) anymore.

Best Hydrating Serum

Consonant HydrExtreme

Another Canadian product to mention—as most of you know, Consonant HydrExtreme (reviewed here) has long been my favourite hydrating serum. This year, it was a godsend for repairing dry, irritated skin under my eyes. It has only two natural ingredients, and has been clinically proven to out-perform hyaluronic acid!

Best Calming Serum

GEORGANIC Propolis Acne Care Serum

I discovered GEORGANIC Propolis Acne Care Serum this year, and it has quickly become a new favourite. I'm calling it a "calming serum" because it contains 78 percent Centella Asiatica extract, 10 percent propolis and two percent niacinamide, all of which have anti-inflammatory properties. It's ideal for sensitive skin as well as acne-prone skin.

Best Niacinamide Serum

Paula's Choice 10% Niacinamide Booster

I've tried plenty of niacinamide serums, but I have to say, I've been most impressed by Paula's Choice 10% Niacinamide Booster. In addition to containing a high 10 percent concentration, it has a thin, watery and non-sticky texture that plays well with other products. Everyone can benefit from this stuff—as I explained in this tutorial, it treats dark spots, breakouts, wrinkles, dryness and so much more.

Best Brightening Serum

SkinCeuticals Discoloration Defense

While niacinamide is great on its own for pigmentation, I also fell in love with SkinCeuticals Discoloration Defense for an even more targeted treatment. Besides five percent niacinamide, it has tranexamic acid, kojic acid and HEPES, which work in tandem to fade brown spots and brighten dull skin. 

Best Vitamin C Serum

Summer Fridays CC Me Serum

L-ascorbic acid serums and I don't always get along, as per my bad experience with Drunk Elephant's this year. So I was happy to discover Summer Fridays CC Me Serum, which combines two types of vitamin C derivatives with niacinamide and peptides. So it has some pretty powerful ingredients in a lightweight and stable formulation (which hasn't broken me out!).

Best Hyaluronic Acid Serum

Timeless Hyaluronic Acid Pure

I don't apply Timeless Hyaluronic Acid Pure as a day-to-day serum (although you certainly could). Instead, I've been using it on my skin after I do a microneedling treatment. That's because it contains high-molecular weight hyaluronic acid and a minimal ingredients list. Since microneedling significantly increases the penetration of topical products, you want to be careful to avoid anything that is potentially inflammatory. 

Best Moisturizer

Truly Doll Skin Face Cream

One of the most incredible products I discovered this year has to be Truly Doll Skin Face Cream. Who knew you could make a moisturizer out of only a few simple ingredients, like soy lethicin, xanthan gum, aloe vera, coconut oil and cocoa butter?! It's honestly perfect (and so inexpensive). I also used lots of Biologique Recherche La Grande Crème this year, which is equally wonderful... but that one's $600+!

Best Moisture Stick

Cocokind MyMatcha All-Over Moisture Stick

In the colder months, I've been carrying Cocokind MyMatcha All-Over Moisture Stick in my handbag. It's a blend of coconut oil, beeswax and matcha powder in a solid stick form. So it's easy to swipe on any dry patches, such as around my nose or on my lips.

Best Face Oil

RMS Beauty Raw Coconut Cream

The face oil I used most this year was RMS Beauty Raw Coconut Cream, which is a high-quality, 100 percent virgin, raw coconut oil. My skin and coconut oil get along really well (even though I am acne-prone), so I use it as a final layer to seal in my serums and creams and even as an eye "cream." (I still love squalane, by the way, even though I didn't use my Indie Lee Squalane Facial Oil as much this year!)

Best Eye Serum

Indie Lee I-Waken Eye Serum

Sometimes, you just want a light layer of moisture to wear during the day underneath your eye makeup. That's where Indie Lee I-Waken Eye Serum (reviewed here) comes in. I love that it sinks in fast and is just hydrating enough, with zero greasiness. Best of all, it doesn't irritate my sensitive eye area!

Best Eye Cream

Drunk Elephant C-Tango Multivitamin Eye Cream

I'm still searching for the perfect eye cream, but Drunk Elephant C-Tango Multivitamin Eye Cream (reviewed here) was one of the best I tried this year. Although I wish it was a little more stable, I love the texture, that it doesn't cause irritation, and that it has so many actives. I feel the exact same way about Caudalie. But I may just go back to Dr Roebuck's, which I initially found a bit too rich, and try applying less.

Best Sunscreen

Ava Isa Pure Untinted Ultra Matte SPF 45 Sunscreen

I was already a fan of Ava Isa Pure Untinted Ultra Matte SPF 45 Sunscreen when it launched in 2018, but after doing this tutorial, even more so! The fact that it gives you such high protection against UVA (the rays that cause skin aging and skin cancer) makes me not want to use anything else! I also loved REN Clean Screen Mineral SPF 30 for its super lightweight texture, but how much UVA protection it offers is unknown.

Best Hydrating Mist

Dr Roebuck's Bondi Hydrating Mist

I'm a total face mist junkie, and Dr Roebuck's Bondi Hydrating Mist (reviewed here) was new to my collection this year. It's got aloe vera, glycerin, niacinamide and cucumber extract for refreshing, hydrating and soothing your skin.

Best Mattifying Mist

Tatcha The Satin Skin Mist

In the warmer weather, I had Tatcha The Satin Skin Mist (reviewed here) on high rotation. This is such a unique mist—it's actually a liquid powder that tames shine while it refreshes your skin. It could even replace the need for blotting papers or powder touch-ups. 

Best Retinoid

A313 Vitamin A Pommade

The best retinoid I used in 2019 is one of France's best-kept secrets: A313 Vitamin A Pommade (reviewed here). Even though it only contains retinol derivatives, it's actually very strong—even stronger than some one percent retinols I've tried, like Lixirskin. The texture is not the best, but the results certainly are!

Best Lip Balm

Lanolips 101 Ointment Multipurpose Superbalm

I used to get chapped lips all the time, but never again after using Lanolips 101 Ointment Multipurpose Superbalm every night. As a 100 percent medical-grade lanolin ointment, it's honestly the most healing thing you could ever use on your lips. (If you don't care about cute packaging, Lansinoh Nipple Cream is the exact same thing!)

Best Purifying Mask

Indie Lee Clearing Mask

I didn't have a lot of time for face masks in 2019, but I did use Indie Lee Clearing Mask (reviewed here) on occasion when my skin felt on the verge of breaking out. (This is nice to use premenstrually!) It has clay, zinc, sulfur, glycolic acid and salicylic acid—all the good stuff for acne-prone skin.

Best Brightening Mask

Tata Harper Resurfacing Mask

Tata Harper Resurfacing Mask (reviewed here) is my "going out" mask—the treatment I like to use to quickly brighten and soften my skin before I apply my makeup for a night on the town. It's a classic!

Best Hydrating Mask

Dr Roebuck's Icebergs Hydrating Mask

Dr Roebuck's Icebergs Hydrating Mask is unique among hydrating masks, because it's oil-free and non-occlusive, with a light jelly texture. So I don't have to worry about it clogging my pores, and it's great year-round (not just when my skin is drier in the winter).

Best Balancing Mask

Biologique Recherche Masque Vivant

No matter what new mask I discover, I always come back to Biologique Recherche Masque Vivant (reviewed here). There's just nothing else like it. No, it's not pretty, and the smell can be off-putting, but the yeast, clay, vinegar and lactic acid work wonders.

Best Microneedling Device

BeautyBio GloPRO Microneedling Regeneration Tool

I experimented with microneedling this year (after not having done it for several years), and my tool of choice has been the BeautyBio GloPRO Microneedling Regeneration Tool. I like this one because the needles are only 0.3 mm, and it emits red light to enhance your results. You can also replace the head (rather than throwing out the whole thing), as well as switch it out for the body, eye and lip attachments.

Best Microcurrent Device

ZIIP Nano Current Device

Last year, my Christmas gift to me, from me, was the ZIIP Nano Current Device—and I haven't regretted it! This sleek little gadget, which emits both microcurrent and nanocurrent, lets you target virtually any skin concern via its app and step-by-step videos. There are programs for lifting, calming, clearing, brightening and more. But I do still use the NuFace Trinity as well. That one is microcurrent only, and best for firming and anti-aging. 

Best Red Light Therapy Device

Red Light Man Red Light Device

It's no secret that I'm a huge proponent of red light therapy for all aspects of skin health. You won't find a more powerful, effective device than the Red Light Man Red Light Device. I still use this several times a week (every night if I can!) to keep my skin firm, plump and clear. If you can only invest in one device, get this one. (Read more about its benefits here and here.)

Best Lip Plumper

PMD Kiss Lip Plumping System

Last but not least, we have the PMD Kiss Lip Plumping System (reviewed here). This suction device produces temporarily fuller lips, and is my alternative to lip injections and overlining. I don't use it every day, but it's a fun quick fix. (Not that thin lips need to be fixed!)

Shop Editor’s Picks

Have you tried any of these products? What were your favourite skincare products of 2019?

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Best of 2019: The 35 Facial Skincare Products That I Loved Most This Year (from Tools to Treatments) syndicated from The Skincare Edit

Atlas, Part Seven | “I’m on the fence about what feels worse, the one leaving or the one in bed”

She was sneaking in inside her own home. At the crack of dawn, with the smell of Damien’s skin impregnated on her own, Atlas Collins was crawling up the red brick wall of her old home, going back over foot and fingerprints she’d left there so many years ago, back when she wouldn’t bother with the stairs and just make her way in and out secretly, long after her parents thought she’d gone to sleep. There’s something about men lying in bed alone and fast asleep that just makes Atlas’s knees weaken and her stomach ache with weird butterflies, and how she had to cling onto the window ledge even after landing inside her old bedroom at the sight of Henry’s peaceful body, chest rising and descending gracefully in ridiculously artistic breathing. She peeled her t-shirt and shorts off and stared down at herself, a flimsy bra sticking to the sweat-coated skin like duct tape, wearing a freshly washed and ironed pair of boxers from Damien’s collection, because finding her own had seemed like an impossible task. Flashes of memories of walls, teeth and textures were clouding her vision, and for the first time in six years, she was standing before Henry almost naked and feeling like an impostor. She could tell by the light sigh and the childish way he shifted his position that he was still sleeping soundly, and yet her feet wouldn’t move. How was it humanly possible to love someone with every atom of her fucked up heart and still do what she’d just done? How could she nod in approval, give in to the pressure of those piercing eyes, and then come back to this man who was so endlessly fascinating to her and still consider him her future husband? It took a lot more strength than normally necessary for Atlas to drag herself all the way to the bathroom, the weight of Damien’s lips on her body like bags of lead balancing on her shoulders. In the full-length mirror inside her bathroom, she didn’t look like herself – there were bags underneath her blue eyes and a certain puffiness all too familiar and the type of running nose you get from crying a lot. There were red scratches on the side of her hips and traces of teeth marks, the reminiscent residue of lovemaking that goes away with a hot shower and the secrecy of clothing, and yet there was something captivating in staring at herself under the white antiseptic bathroom lightning. So this is the body of a traitor? He was sleeping on his side when Atlas pulled herself away from his arms and wrapped the sheets around her body, but the moment the bed shifted under the weight of her getting up, his eyes immediately popped open, alert and searching. It was nothing, and yet she smiled and leaned over to press the softest kiss on his cheek, inches away from his mouth, and whisper ‘I must go home now’, as if this was their way of saying the fun’s over. Like she was expecting for him to agree with her and send his best wishes to Henry, waving politely before she disappeared into the weird darkness of twilight. She had to come up with a plan, something to justify the many things changed in her that weren’t there when Henry went to bed. She’d leave the window open and then blame it for her hoarse voice. The red fingernail marks would be her own, scratching herself in her sleep. The big red spot up there on the inside of her right thigh, which was turning black and blue by the minute, Henry wouldn’t have to know about. Not even the hot water pouring over her like a cascade could tame the nagging feeling in her chest that she’d absolutely ruined herself. And Damien too. And fuck, what about Henry? It was the mere thought of her soon-to-be husband that immediately sent Atlas to tears, convulsing inside the steamy shower with the last bits of energy left in her body. Never had she ever thought she would be capable of such cruelty, but there she was… . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . “I’m starting to wonder if I’m marrying a woman or a sloth” Henry’s spoke, and even with her eyes closed and still half-asleep, Atlas could feel the playful smile plastered on his face. She smiled and hid her face inside the pillow, counting the seconds until his weight would lean the bed to the side ever so slightly and his lips would find their way to her cheek and then behind her ear, nibbling at the lobe for a brief moment. It felt like a morning ritual they religiously kept doing, and for a split-second Atlas allowed herself to lavish in the affection she was given. “Good morning” he whispered, chin resting on her shoulder, eyes contemplating her like they always did, so loving and so careful, eager to discover any detail, any feature that would remind him once more of why he’d put a ring on that finger. This was what your mornings are like every day, Atlas, why the fuck would you ever trade it for anything else? She couldn’t help but ask herself that as her eyes opened and a smile just couldn’t resist not spreading out across her lips, stretching like a cat underneath her loving man. “Good morning, Henry” she spoke and as soon as the first syllables escaped her lips, Atlas’s eyes widened in sync with his own. Of course she had been expecting for her voice to be hoarse, but this… It was absolutely destroyed, as if she’d been screaming for dear life on top of a Himalayan mountain wearing hot pants, feet bare in the snow. “Oh my God” she mouthed, her hand covering her lips in disbelief, before she tried clearing her throat several times, each gulp more painful than the other. “You left the window open last night” Henry remarked after a short silence of analysing her face, straightening his back as he stood on the side of the bed, his right arm still lingering behind her, hand propping up his weight. “I guess no iced coffee for you this morning, then, I’m gonna have to make a new one” he spoke, almost ready to get up from his position before Atlas’s hand reached out for his arm, pulling him back. “It’s fine, I’ll do it myself” she whispered, still slightly surprised by the state of her voice, and pulled at his arm until he was hovering over her again, the other hand pushing the comforter to the side. She didn’t even have to speak, or to look him in the eyes long enough for him to get the message, Henry already knew what she was waiting for, and he was eager to provide her that – falling to her side, pulling the sheets over their heads, a peaceful sigh escaped him as his arm secured itself around his soon-to-be wife’s figure in a tight and intimate embrace, the kind that makes your feet tickle from inside the skin and your stomach feel like it has suddenly been emptied by a vaccum. Atlas had everything she could have possibly asked for – a loving man by her side, a supportive family, albeit separated, a flourishing career, a beautiful home and a group of friends she could rely on. She had the world, and this should have been enough for her. But this world didn’t have time or space for Damien, for acting like a teenager once more, selfish and overwhelmed by uncontrollable feelings, for giving in to impulse and lust. “Everything okay?” Henry murmured, and Atlas still couldn’t understand how a voice can be this soft and reassuring, so velvety and soothing. “Your body’s all tense.” / ‘Are we friends? Are we fucking? What’s happening?’ / She should have said it then and maybe things would have been different now. Of course they were fucking, because she needed it, she needed to set herself free – all those years of loving him the only way her teenage heart knew how, cursing her parents and her luck for moving so many thousand miles away from him in an instant, without any word. Didn't he know it just as well as she did? Fucking was a coping mechanism, and maybe they both needed to get all those loose ends sorted out before any normal and potentially healthy relationship established between them. Damien had always been a smart guy and yet he believed every second of her nodding – didn’t he know better? How could he buy it, Atlas really running away with him from everything she’d ever build? Her mind couldn’t wrap around the cold hard truth that most of all, she was to blame for everything. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Days in Beaufort had never been fast-paced, and yet this particular one seemed never-ending, the hours slowly passing by like there time itself had issues moving on after the previous night. His car slowed down in front of her house, and from the passenger’s seat you could have sworn the Collins’ porch was stretching endlessly into the horizon, the lazy light of sunset casting a red hue over the dusty bricks. “Take care of yourself, kid” Brodie spoke once the engine stopped, his car perfectly parked into the vacant spot in the driveway. With his pearl white smile so characteristic of him, he ran a hand through his hair and looked over to the front door, Atlas still lingering in her seat. “Well, I bet Henry’s gonna be very jealous he’s not the only one you’re giving love to.” It was a joke, innocent and well-intended, but she still froze for a second, puzzled at his words before she shrugged it off, returning his smile with one of her own. “Of all, I should be the jealous one, you’ve basically stolen my husband.” Husband. The word had an unexpectedly grave ring to it, like she’d deciphered an old spell or a hieroglyph revealing the meaning of life. She’d never before referred to Henry as her husband, hardly ever as her fiancé, and pronouncing that in such circumstances made Atlas feel profane. Like she’d fucked up a sacred inheritance that she’d been trusted with. “Well, anyway, let me know how things go… With Jude, I mean.” It was enough for her to mention his name and life would spark up in the apple of his cheeks, a rosiness so characteristic of his marble-white complexion, which he tried to shake off and play it cool, letting out a chuckle intended to seem careless, almost playful. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.” And then he hesitated, running his thumb over his lower lip, eyes darting back to the entrance of her childhood home. “I don’t even know anymore… With Hope, and how she sees things… I just wonder if she’s seeing more than I do, being objective and all.” A small silence followed – Atlas had never been good around Hope, the two seemed to have never really understood how to handle each other, but then again, the Larssons were a family teenage Atlas hadn’t really been tight with for some reason. “But I want to give her the credit. I want to believe her. I’ll have to give her that, she’s much more experienced at having her heart crushed, the whole story with Charlie and how he died and finding out about all that shit.” He probably realised he’d spilled the beans on something Atlas was completely unaware of only when Atlas’s eyes grew wide open all of a sudden, as if triggered by one simple command. It couldn’t be true, Charlie couldn’t be dead. Not the Charlie she knew. “You didn’t know…” Brodie continued in a considerably lower voice, and something about the way he phrased it made it sound less like a question and more like a statement. They stood in silence for a few moments, with Atlas’s eyes vacant and focused on the unreachable distance. “How did he die?” It took a while for Brodie to answer, probably contemplating whether it was a good idea to let her know the whole story, but nonetheless he spoke up. “He committed suicide” he spoke and Atlas’s face was taken over by a frown and a jaw that wouldn’t relax, so clenched her teeth might have cracked under the pressure. “He… He did it a long time ago. Maybe nine or ten years ago? It was right before Damien left town too.” It might have been the shock on her face or the way her whole body had absolutely frozen to the news that made him extend his hand to hold hers in the most innocent way, so much so that she had to look down, marvelled by the gesture. “Thanks for the ride” she finally spoke, eyes moving back to his face. “Take care of yourself” she added, giving a final squeeze of his hand before stepping out of the car, the pavement so far away from her feet. She waited for him to get out of the driveway, waving as she stood on the front steps, acting like she hadn't been crushed by the news. She waited for his car to melt into the distance into something undistinguishable before sitting down, hand frantically raiding through the contents of her purse until a lighter and a cigarette found their way in her hands, before a quick set of moves set the stick ablaze and tossed the lighter back in. She’d been around for a few weeks now and nobody had bothered to tell her the news. Not even Damien, although a part of her knew all too well he wouldn’t open up about it, though it all made sense now, his mother and his tattoo and Isabella, ever-present in his life. Him leaving the town because he couldn't tolerate staying in a place that had ruined him. Isabella clinging on to him because he was the only thing she had left to remind her of Charlie. The nausea in Atlas���s mouth had become too familiar. “Oh, you’re back” her father’s voice brought her back to reality, the crack of a door opening too subtle for the type of trance she seemed to have fallen into. “You alright, kid?” He spoke, kneeling down to be on the same level with his daughter, joints cracking. “Yeah, I was just finishing this cigarette” she replied after a brief moment of contemplation, but ultimately figured it didn’t make much sense discussing Charlie’s death with her dad, who was now adjusting his position so that his body was mimicking hers, face bright with love and good disposition. Her father had always appreciated sitting down in silence with his loved ones, and it was something Atlas hadn’t known she’d missed until now, the two of them resting on the front steps of their house like some thug kids on eighties rap posters. “Went to see Damien about those photos?” He finally said, a small satisfied smile on his lips as he leaned back, hands propping his weight, head resting against the door. “Um, no” Atlas replied, resting her head on his shoulder, annoyed at herself for having to lie to her father, but not even he, with all the love and generosity he was capable of, could he not blame his daughter, and Atlas would’ve understood his reasons. Instead, she shifted to something else. “I went out with Brodie today, we had a little drink, it was quite nice.” Her father didn’t say anything for the next few moments, he just sighed peacefully, like the view before him was filling him with so much joy he had to make enough space inside of him to fit all of it. “Why don't you invite him, too?” He asked, continuing only when Atlas’s puzzled eyes looked up, in search for his. “Damien, I mean. He’s grown into such a good young man, and you two have always been really close. Even now, when he came over for dinner, it seemed like you’ve always been inseparable.” There was a weird combination between wanting to burst into laughter and shaking all over that flooded Atlas, retrieving her head for her father's shoulder as she kept staring straight ahead, phrasing and rephrasing what she was about to say next, until she just smiled to herself. “I’ll think about it” Atlas replied, getting up and shaking off the dust from the back of her cut-offs, before extending her hand to her father. “C’mon in, paps. Let’s cook something for dinner” she continued ever so lightly, shrugging his previous words off with a display of amusement to hide the churning feeling inside her stomach. When had her life turned into such a ridiculous masquerade?

Hi everyone! I was so excited when I was approached by SkinStore and asked if I wanted to review a box full of Caudalíe products. Ummmm… I think y’all all know that I could not say yes fast enough. I already like one of their products a LOT and I’ve heard so many great things about their others.

So I anxiously awaited my box… And y’all. When it came, it did NOT disappoint! Right now, this limited edition box is worth $169 but you can pick it up from SkinStore for just $55, which is a steal if you are already into Caudalíe or if you want to experiment with a new brand!

Look at all of the amazing products packed into this box! I was just so giddy to get all of these Caudalíe products at once! I actually did not know much about the brand before receiving this box.

Included in the box was a 19-page booklet that went into such great detail about the brand and each product. The brand began when Mathilde and Bertrand Thomas, husband and wife founders of Caudalíe, had a chance encounter with Dr. Vercauteren, the world’s leading expert on grape and grapevine polyphenols, in Bordeaux, France, while in the vineyards of the family estate. Dr. Vercauteren revealed that the extraordinary antioxidant power of the discarded debris of the grape harvest is ten thousand times more effective than vitamin E to fight against free radicals. Together, they worked to develop beauty products that contain the exceptional powers that the grape and grapevine hold for the skin. Caudalíe has established years of scientific research, using the best ingredients to craft beauty products that are not only effective but also natural and luxurious.

Isn’t that so interesting?! I just drink wine, I never thought about putting it on my face. The more you know. 🙂

Caudalíe Resveratrol Lift Eye Lifting Balm (FULL SIZE! $62): This eye balm is the product that was already part of my routine before SkinStore reached out to me. I think I received a deluxe sample of it in an Allure Beauty Box awhile back. It’s the eye product I use in the morning before I apply makeup. It leaves my under eyes feeling moisturized but not like TOO moisturized where makeup would lay over it in a weird way. I tend to have pretty sensitive skin around my eyes and I can’t use certain anti-aging eye products and I have had no issues with this. The balm is powered by a patent combining Vine Resveratrol with Micro Hyaluronic Acids which help to lift eyelids, reduce puffiness and dark circles and smooth out wrinkles.

Caudalíe Micellar Cleansing Water (FULL SIZE! $28): I have to be honest, I’m just not really into micellar waters. I do, however, like cleansing cloths soaked in micellar water, but I just feel like I have to use so many cotton pads to get the job done to where it’s not worth it to me. But I’ll be keeping this in the room where I film because this DOES work, so it will be perfect for removing swatches.

Caudalíe Vinosource Moisturizing Sorbet (FULL SIZE! $39): This was my first time trying this moisturizer and I really loved it! They call this a “sorbet” and that’s a really interesting way to describe it. It’s certainly not whipped but it does have a lighter gel-like texture… even though it’s definitely a cream. It’s very hard to describe but you really only need a little bit to moisturize your whole face and it feels so nice and soft.

Caudalíe Vinoperfect Radiance Serum ($79 for the full-size): This product was the only one in the box that I had any issues with, and the reason being is because I feel like that tube looks like a pretty decent deluxe-sized sample but mine was practically empty. I was like, bending that tube like you do when you are right at the end of your toothpaste tube but forgot to get more from the store. I got a tiny bit of the product out and it felt nice but I really wasn’t able to use it long enough to form an opinion. From what I understand, this is one of their cult products that boosts radiance, lightens dark spots and evens skin tone. I wish I had received more because that sounds right up my alley.

Caudalíe Instant Detox Mask ($39 for the full-size): This mask is supposed to treat stressed and tired looking skin, draw out impurities and tighten pores. I definitely feel like my pores and skin felt tight and smooth after I used it but I wouldn’t say that my skin was in bad shape before. I might save this for when I’m having a few mores skin “issues” and see if it helps!

Caudalíe Hand and Nail Cream ($15 for full-size): My hands are always dry as hell so I was so excited to get a hand cream in this box! It was really nice and moisturizing, which, duh. I guess that is a given. But what I love is that it’s very fast absorbing and your hands aren’t a greasy mess, which is nice!

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I saw something on the inside of the moisturizing sorbet box and I got curious and ripped it open to see what was on the inside. I needed to know if it was going to be a treasure map or something. It just had directions on how to apply moisturizer, which is funny to me, and then pics of other products.

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Final Grade: A, obviously

For $55, I think this is an absolute steal to try out several great Caudalíe products, especially when several are full-sized products worth well over the cost of the box.

Aw, man! I just saw that the box is sold out! That is such a bummer since it’s such a great box and I was going to tell you all to buy it! However, I think you should definitely sign up for SkinStore’s email list, just in case they do something awesome like this again!

I appreciate that SkinStore reached out to me and I look forward to shopping around there more in the future!

Press sample sent in exchange for an honest review Post contains affiliate links

Special Edition CAUDALÍE x SkinStore Box Hi everyone! I was so excited when I was approached by SkinStore and asked if I wanted to review a box full of…