#butting in for a little bit of the credit that she does not deserve

[touchmycoat]

Coworker: so how are you going to compile all the tests?

Me: what do you mean?

Coworker: I mean like, do you have all the tests?

Me: sure, I know what tests we’ve done.

Coworker: and you’re going to put them on a list?

Me: yeah.

Coworker: nice, that’s what I thought.

Me: ??????

#personal #the context is #we’re supposed to be on the same level in the same team #working on the same stuff at the same rate #but she definitely does not #she cannot spearhead any creative problem-solving #which is 80% of the work we do #and even the gruntwork sometimes doesn’t get done in a timely manner #*I* did all these tests #I ran them and the manager asked for a centralized list #I was like sure in the chat #and cue this conversation four hours later #all my emotional labor is spent on my reactions to her fjbdjsndn #on one hand I’m so fucking mad on mad on mad cause she always does this #chime in at the very end of me handling everything with a ‘nice’ #butting in for a little bit of the credit that she does not deserve #on the other hand I’m like be patient #she means no harm #and on a big ethical scale I am not interested in demanding labor from her #BUT IM SO FUCKING FRUSTRATED AND HATE EXPLAINING MYSELF ON SUCH A RUDIMENTARY LEVEL #literaly what else would compile mean #She’s only asking bc she has no idea what’s going on at ALL #and every time she asks she just reminds me how far behind she is #ugh anyways #work is exhausting enough as it is without her #actually it might be 50% her

[aliensunflower-fics]

How to Exploit Kindness [A New Kind of Lila Salt Prompt]

[ Ive seen Lila and Class salt that goes a lot of different ways. In some Lilas a sad lonely girl who will do anything for friends and the class fall for her lies through a mixture of manipulation and Lila’s genuine sad lonely but real persona. In others Lila is insane and the class get basically sucked into her cult. And in others still, Lila slowly breaks the class down by preying on there insecurities, hidden jealousies ect. There are the versions where Lila just bribes the class with connections and the versions where Lila frames Marinette until no one believes her. But I wanted to write a new idea for people to use, one that I feel is a bit more realistic. One where Marinette’s classmates are more their more authentic kind selves but still get slowly pulled into Lila’s web and where Lila is just a bit more intelligent. ]

[ As usual with all my prompts feel free to borrow the idea to write for your own thing salt, sugar, cuteness angst ect just be sure to credit me for the idea so I can read it. ]

Lila was furious! This wasn’t how it was supposed to go! She was supposed to be everyone's friend! She was supposed to finally get a cute perfect boyfriend who would cherish her like she deserved! She was supposed to be HAPPY! But no, the pathetic beetle Ladybug and that goody two shoes Marinette kept ruining everything!

No… No that wasn’t quite true. As much as she wanted to blame her problems on those two it wasn’t entirely their faults. Honestly Lila wasn’t quite sure what had happened. Her lies had been working at first, they had gotten her praise and compliments and adoration and friendship! But now? Now they were all ignoring her, unimpressed by her celeb lies! She could not understand it! At first she’d been sure it was Marinette or Ladybug maybe even Adrien had turned on her! But when she’d probed for information she’d learned that none of them had blown the whistle. So what was it! Tomorrow… Tomorrow she will find out one way or another. She needed to get them back under her thumb somehow.

 It was Chloe who gave Lila her answers. Chloe was the reason none of her classmates cared about her stories! Chloe was the idiot mayor's brat. And what a brat she was constantly wiggling her way into her mothers fashion shoots or had celebrities over at the hotel. Of course Lila’s classmates didn’t care about Lila’s celebrity connections because Chloe was always name dropping just as many people as herself. The only difference was Lila used fake modesty and shyness that made her ‘friends’ view her lies in less of a gloating light than Chloe’s haughty claims of celebrity meetings.

It was a damn shame, celebrity lies were her bread and butter, they were exciting got people to think you were important and they were hard to prove or disprove allowing Lila to easily get around the messy little detail of ‘proof’ if someone asked for pictures all she could say was that her mom didn't let her take any because she didn't want her precious daughter being targeted by crazy fans. And if someone asked her to use her celebrity connections? Well she could just turn on the water works and cry about them just being her friend for her connections. Thus her prey would be forced to be her ‘friend’ , always listening to her and doing things for her, unable to ask for anything in return. Then when her mother announced their next move Lila would tearfully say goodbye and leave all her suckers behind. But without the sway of her celebrity lies her system broke down. That was the problem with picking the school full of rich talented idiots she supposed.

Well with Chloe ruining her system she’d need a new one. Scrolling through her classmates' social media for a clue she sneered at their overly cheerful and cutesy posts. Always encouraging one another and posting encouraging puff pieces about this or that. Always acting like they were so nice. As Lila scrolled over a charity fundraiser event that Alya had retweeted from Milene a sudden thought crossed her mind. Her classmates were very ‘nice’ and annoyingly so. They were always butting into each other's business, always being SO concerned, always organizing events to help each other and appreciate each other and going to charity events.

In fact now that she thought about it the stories that had intrigued her ‘friends’ always had some sort of charity garbage attached. Saving Jagged’s kitten or raising money for some cause or other that always got her heaps of praise. Sure saying Clara whatshername stole her dance moves got attention but not in the same way saying she raised money for some green project. Was it really that simple? Sure her classmates all loved Marinette for her extreme generosity and kindness but was it REALLY that simple? She needed to check.

 It was actually that easy. One simple little lie about how she pulled a blind old man out of danger when he was nearly run over and suddenly the class was bathing her in praise. And the ‘fact’ that the whole very real thing made her miss first period and sprain her ankle? Well that was just the cherry on top. Suddenly Max was offering her a copy of his notes and everyone was back to caring for her like she was a princess. The fact that Marinette looked like she was seething only for sweet naive Adrien to keep her mouth shut was just so perfect. She’d found her golden ticket. Her classmates were truly ‘good kind people’ and nothing could be exploited quite like kindness.

With this knowledge Lila would easily be able to destroy Marinette, sure she wouldn’t be able to do it quickly but slowly she would replace her, with every good deed she made up with every act of false modesty she would build a reputation greater than Marinette’s she would replace her and become there new ‘everyday ladybug’ and the best part was she wouldn’t have to say ANYTHING against Marinette. Not. A. Thing. No sweet righteous Marinette would eventually snap, sadly for her it would probably be too late with how much control Adrien had over her, so when it happened Marinette would look like the jealous crazy girl going after the girl that was kinder, sweeter, and better than herself. As for Adrien… Well she had a hard time believing it at first but he really was an idiot with a pretty face as long as she was careful as she built her new reputation he would genuinely believe that she was changing for the better and then he'd fall for her.

The best part was, her classmates were genuine. As she built her new good girl heart of gold persona they would genuinely come to love her, all the loyalty Marinette got to enjoy all the perks of being friends with such talented, kind, sweet people would become hers. Slowly no matter how Marinette struggled she would lose, eventually she’d have nothing left. Of course she’d need to be careful with her lies but that was easy. Bring the class to a charity here and there and tell them that she was the one who gave the idea for the charity to the actual organizer but didn't want any credit because she was just that kind and humble. If they tried to make her do actual work then she’d have a sudden accident that would require she sit down.

And then once she’d done more photoshoots with Adrien for Gabriel she’d ‘convince’ the man that a charity would make him look good and boost sales. She’d MAKE her lies true all while winning over her future father in law, and heck maybe she’d even pocket a little of the money, she could use a better wardrobe and the extra would be perfect to buy her ‘friends’ the occasional ice cream or presents. In between that she’d just lie about saving people or volunteering on weekends. Maybe even let it ‘slip’ how she was a temp hero for Ladybug . One of the sweetest parts was that between volunteering with Lila, there own activities and hanging out with Lila so she could ‘thank them for their hard work’ no one would be spending a second hanging out with sweet pink little Marinette, they'd abandon her without even realizing it because they’d be SO busy. Sadly this plan of hers would take a little more work then her others, but it would be worth it to become the queen bee of the class- NO the school! And when Marinette eventually slipped up and looked like the biggest jealous bully in the school. Well she’d have no choice but to leave the school with her tail in between her legs.

Victory was looking sweet and satisfying.

 [ And where it goes from here is up to you. Lila can win, she can slowly convince the class and school that she's a model citizen and an everyday hero. She can sneakily maneuver the class to not spend time with Marinette slowly separating the girl from her friends. In this way Alya and the rest of them don't become evil salty versions of themselves who overnight hate Marinette and love Lila, but rather they are good naive people who got slowly separated and tricked by someone who wants to use their genuine talents and skills to make herself look better. Adrien who is already shown to be naive and wants to believe the best in people, can fall into Lila’s trap and become genuinely convinced that his high road method really worked and ‘reformed’ Lila into a better person. OR Lila can fail, she can claim to be the wrong temporary hero for ladybug, or she can pick the wrong charity to lie about, or get exposed any number of ways and the class can realize with horror that because they are kind but flawed people who are perhaps too trusting and gullible that they got pulled away from Marinette through subtle manipulation and so they can be redeemed because instead of turning into outright bullies they stayed the same kind people they always were but just got genuinely tricked which is something that can actually happen in real life. You can go heavy salt where Marinette does eventually leave the school or class heartbroken that her kind friends have fallen prey to a bad person Marinette cant find a way to expose. Or you can go clever salt where Marinette figures out Lila’s plan and fights her from the inside slowly exposing the cracks in her facade. Or you can go sugar and redemption where maybe just maybe Lila actually LIKES being nice to people and having real friends who dont care about her fake celeb connections, maybe she honestly redeems herself and even makes amends with Marinette. You can do genuinely anything with this idea and I hope to see this generate some new less *and suddenly everyone is evil* content for those that like salt and angst. ]

#my writing #ml salt #lila salt #lila salt prompt #now technically there isnt any actual class salt or adrien salt in here because its more of a prompt but to be safe il tag it anyway #adrien salt #class salt #ml salt prompt

[mantra4ia]

Debris 1x13 "Celestial Body": rewatch Reaction'd, questions and comments

So if all those people are experiencing emotional convergence, who are they converging from? Who's sending the emotional signal that the debris is channeling, or is it the debris manifesting it's "consciousness" in a way that we can understand it by way of human conduits?

Maddox is clearly trading debris pieces with Irina (perhaps the piece that he took out of storage off the books), and Irina is on the phone with presumably her handler/ boss to negotiate this trade. She gives him lateral (which I assume means latitudinal) readings and then he asks for longitudinal readings which we don't get to hear. They are: Lateral 105, 112, 115, 120, 113, 110, 109

What's the significance of these measures? Latitude goes from 0° to 90° from the equator, so that doesn't track unless the scene is cut wrong and they're meant to be longitudinal (E/W) readings, which go to 180° relative to the prime meridian. That would make more sense, because after Irina is done with the first set of readings, the unknown caller on the phone says "drop to level two for vertical" and latitudes are North/South.

If we're talking Western longitudes, notable landmarks include: Denver, Salt Lake City UT / Phoenix AZ / nearly Sedona AZ - aka where the telesphere went, Las Vegas, Lake Tahoe/ Nevada border, Great Salt Lake, Alberta-Saskatchewan border, and the Utah-Arizona border.

Or perhaps they're not part of terrestrial measurement at all. The act of "lateral reading" could just mean verifying your sources/accuracy as you go, where as vertical reading is reading for content first to see if something is worth evaluating for sources.

However, if they are part of coordinates, then is the fragment that Maddox is trading with Irina a legitimate "mapmaker" piece like George previously said Influx was seeking? Ya know, when he lied to his daughter. Can a mapmaker piece track moving/animate debris akin to the telesphere? Are those black dust cloud beings George is running from made up of animate debris?

Bryan: After becoming a parent you're in a heightened emotional state, emotionally raw.

George: Higher highs, lower lows, the joy of having a child, the postpartum depression, and the fear of getting it wrong.

Me: Are we in a pensive, self-reflective mood, George? Are you practicing your pub trivia Bryan, delivering exposition, or are you speaking from personal character experience? Seriously, how would you know?!

John Noble as Otto, man why does he always make such a good villain?

What is with the cryptic vagueness when Maddox tells Irina, "You know I can't let you leave with that case right? I mean you know that. There's another door for you Irina, one that only you can go through." They seemed almost on good terms in a previous episode, like friends or something more in a past life "nice car, i almost left / no you didn't", he wouldn't kill her, would he? Or is it more like a code between them, a sort of "I'm being watched, take the back exit"?

Hey, so why is it that sometimes George's eye seems opaque and damaged from the debris implant, but then when he's talking to Finola after he distracts Bryan while being Debris whisperer, his eye seems fine? PS: I googled Tyrone Benskin just to see what he looks like when he's not playing George Jones and I didn't know he's a former member of Canadian Parliament. Don't trust the government, eh?

George: "You're such a compassionate person, you always have been. So much of your mother in you." That's the second time that Finola's mother has been mentioned in the series, back from the pilot. Is it a coincidence that the first piece of debris that chose to interact with Finola resonated her mom? More than just Finola's desire being reflected by the debris, but the debris emoting it's first impression of her as someone compassionate that it can trust?

It also raises my heckles that George repeats, almost word for word, something that Finola said in episode 3. "If we can't help people, we do not deserve this debris / if we don't use this debris on these people, we are not worthy to have it." Are father and daughter that ideologically similar, or has he been spying on her progress this whole time, or both?

George: "I took my life to allow myself a rebirth, I paid the price. I want you to know that not one day goes by that I don't think of you and your sister. I want you to know this." This coincides with my initial impression that George staged his death to get away from Orbital after he assessed how his research was being used/abused.

George: "You never wanted to go into the pool, I had to throw you in, and you kicked and screamed, but you always did better that way." Immabout to throw you George, just keep talking!!!! I'm sorry, this charicature of absentee father reminiscing about the good old days really ticks me off from personal experience.

Also, as a person with a disability, I am not particularly pleased with the use of Dario as a plot device instead of a thoughtful character with a backstory at this point in the show for 13 whole episodes now. Pretty pissed off actually, so they better do something phenomenal and pivotal with Christian Rose (Dario) in season 2 [maybe have his character interact with debris in a similar way to Caroline]. But that's another rant about ableism in screenwriting for another angry day....

George: "A telesphere was born yesterday. It came from a pocket dimension inside Orbital. I think it's birth may have triggered the debris." This is perhaps the one-ish episode that I find George remotely interesting and also infuriating, particularly because of the way he speaks, like he's finally taken off the guise of the old, well-meaning eccentric and turned into a sharp, cunning, and at times calculatingly ruthless individual. I find it peculiar that he says a telesphere is born. Makes me think that the debris is not just part of a spacecraft, but a hybrid of the beings piloting that craft.

I get tremendous satisfaction from Finola head-butting people. This should continue.

I'm not familiar with all of the work of JH Wyman to know if this is a running theme or an ongoing joke. But does he keep his writing staff in a constant state of starvation? Is that why pieces of debris are called "Nachos", and why Influx has "Beans" to shield them from debris side effects, and why Bryan is always eating junk food? Should I be worried about the writer's room and start sending them healthy snacks?!? Just give me an SOS in the credit roll.

Speaking of: is the "Bean" that Finola ingested a piece of debris? Similar to the pieces of debris that fused with Anson Ash? Will it impart some physical benefits to her moving forward?

"I won't lose you again...you belong with me." What are you talking about George Jones, you made the conscious decision to leave your family. You didn't lose Finola, she lost you. In this version of reality at least. Or (unscripted backstory) did Jones and his wife separate prior to her death / was Finola brought up mostly by her mother? That doesn't seem the case if she was buying her father birthday presents and took it upon herself to settle his affairs after his death.

Why do the Influx Operatives Otto and Anson have tattoos on their hands, but not Loeb? Is he like the low end of the totem pole FNG who hasn't earned his stripes, hence why Otto gives him s***: aka "Careful you cretin. All the finesse of a butcher."

What is the hierarchy of Influx anyway? Despite being an anti-government "for the people/ elevate the human consciousness" organization they do still seem to have a governing hierarchy and Otto and George seem to be on the same level, pretty high in rank / they talk with confidence to each other like they go back a while.

What is that weird thing that Otto does with his hands to Bryan's head? What are all the weird things Otto does, including his massacre at the petrol station? Ick.

Why is it that Leob and George are freaked out by the black smoke (debris particle?) man, but Anson and Otto aren't? They seem to see them(?), but don't overtly react.

Bryan: "It seems like we're entering some kind of new phase." Gee where have I heard that one before? Oh yeah, the story of "Blackwater grandfather" and the black wind that they're still teasing endlessly while refusing to tether it into some kind of world building lore. Agggghh!

Lololol, Bryan and Finola's dynamic even in the midst of a very serious episode makes me laugh. "Devon Reese / two e's? / Two e's!" "This one smells like baby diapers. Almost as bad as the tech section of the plane/ You mean your section of the plane. / Almost." That zinger 👍

Paraphrasing Bryan: "[recapping, recap, and did I mention recap]...something about George doesn't feel right." Personal pet peeve: I HATE IT when episodes have intentional explanatory lines like this to point out the fact that we as audience are privy to information that the main characters aren't. Not only does it make the main characters seem less intelligent, it breaks the fourth wall a little bit and gives the impression that the audience, which is ahead of the plot, is not as intelligent and needs a reminder that we're ahead. Lackadaisical writing drives me nuts!!! I can't outright say that it's "bad" dialogue, but it's not a choice I would make if I wanted uninterrupted viewer immersion.

Finola: "My instincts are good" Me: You are an emotionally intelligent decision maker with gaping personal blind spots.

George: You belong with me, your father.

Finola: My father died six months ago, and you are not him.

Me: Chef's kiss 👏👏👏

Otto: "It would never have worked out with that girl [Finola], not in any iteration." Definitely makes me lean towards the fan theory that the alt!Finola in (presumably) suspensia in Sedona Arizona got plucked from another reality.

Surprisingly, the ending credit roll has no voiceover as all the previous episodes of the season have. Disappointed that there's no potential teaser to a season 2 if the show gets renewed. But I find it curious that the extras who were demonstrating emotional convergence were credited as: chess board persons. Not sure if that's relevant, but I definitely feel like this show is playing games with me and my emotions.

#nbc debris #debris 1x13 #debris spoilers #george jones #finola jones #bryan beneventi #celestial body #sci fi #high concept sci fi #questionable execution #this show guys #renew debris #but also I need to talk with JH Wyman

[charlettebffxiv]

Prompt #12 Excuse (Extra Credits)

Knowing how all this works is frustrating. That is a sad part of becoming more and more familiar with just how the systems work. Once you’re aware of the bits and pieces of the clock that ticks along your time it gets really, really hard to not hear it. To feel like you’ve made your own choices, and that you are forging your own path. “That is bullshit.” Ogi Nogi was a man of few words, but even for this first outburst from him in a long while, Charlette chided him “Ogi, try and be a little less crass, will you? It’s frustrating, yes, but don’t lower yourself.” The lalafell crossed his arms, looked way, way up at Charlette. Staring her dead in the eye. “No.” Well, she wouldn’t appreciate that, but she could at least understand where it was coming from. As, in the back of her mind, she had a few choice words of her own. That was bullshit.

The Archive, for all its secrets, systems, oaths and rituals, was a fairly simple beast. The firstborn of every family to settle permanently in Willow’s Heart is inducted. The only exceptions are for only children, and those that are already parents or bonded. If this was too much to offer, you left Willow’s Heart and settled elsewhere. Harsh, yes, but everyone had to be bound to the purpose. Once inducted, you took your Oaths, you swore to take no charges, no quests, no ambitions other than the Orders. You were no longer an heir, a spouse, a youngling filled with dreams or ambitions. You became an Apprentice to the Order, and that was your dream and ambition. Breaking these oaths, taking on a new purpose that the leaders of the Order judged had become higher to you, and it was exile. It was upon this precipice that Charlette stood now, with only a hearing between her and said leaders to decide where her future would be going. It could be the disciplinary hearing that set a warning in her histories and left a permanent stain on her record, but saw her returned to the Orders fold and able to continue what had been her life since she was thirteen. Or, it could be the very last time this system made a decision for her, and it would be to send her out to start over, without any chance to redeem herself. Her home would not be her home anymore, her friends and family remain bound to Willow’s Heart. She had been standing on this line for a full twelvemoon by this point, in a grey area of existence that had left her uncertain about either path. That system chafed now, its limitations and it’s injustices hung around her neck each time she sat with her fellow Order members, all of them wishing her a swift return. Exile, though, sat on the horizon each time she was attending to her temporary position with the Botanist Guild. Utterly unknown, terrifying, lonely. Who was she, without Willow’s Heart and the Order? She did not know. Likely nothing. “And that’s bullshit.” Ogi Nogi sat next to Charlette, and poked her in the side. It was a sun of rest, and she was surrounded by her friends in a booth at the Willow’s Heart tavern, The Scholar’s Blush. What else do you call an alehouse that is down the road from a library? “Was I thinking aloud?” Charlette asked, a poor habit she had recently developed in the more isolated moments of her Botany work. She looked up at the people surrounding her. Maxim was holding back a laugh, Chloe was giving her a look that suggested she was questioning, once more, how they could be siblings. A’nidreah looked up from her drink, licking foam from her lips like she had heard nothing unusual. Loash and Alistair, at the same time, did the thing men who fancy themselves stoic do. A shrug, and a quick nod to the side. They very nearly butted heads. “Sorry, but it is something I do wonder about. I, we, have dedicated so much of ourselves to this place. Order or Botany guild, or otherwise. What. What do I do if they decide I have breached the code? Crossed the line? What if I have to go?” the words struggled from her, crawling up her throat and making it twist and pull at them like she wanted to swallow them back down. Once spoken, though, they existed. Can’t take that back. “They won’t. Not if they know what they are doing.” Alistair reassured her. “And they do, you’ve met Emillie. Not a man alive that knows more of what he’s about than him.” Loash’s nod came with a firm grunt too “S’true. He only does clever things.” Loash rarely had a bad thing to say about his appointed guardian though. “I mean you’ve given them no reason to think of you as more than a dedicated Willow’s Heart-ian? -ist? What would you call us? Willow’s Heartdians? Anyway, you’ll be fine. Bobocufu’s probably only got glowing things to say about you.” Maxim flicked his hand, danced around Charlette’s worries and dismissed them like they never even deserved to be said. “Bobocufu only has nice things to say about everyone. She could talk-up the Emperor of Garlemald if he planted a sapling in his front yard.” Ogi Nogi speaks again, though being less helpful this time. Charlette held up a hand to stop anymore reassurances coming her way, taking the time it required to gulp from her cup to think before she spoke. “Thank you everyone. That does help. But we won’t know until it happens. Until then I just need to keep making the best impression I can, if I want to avoid being sent away.” A solemn series of looks fell over the group with the silence. Then Chloe and A’nidreah glanced at each other. The Miqo’te shook her head, but Charlette knew Chloe had made up her mind. “Does it matter?” Chloe asked, getting a few quick looks from everyone but Maxim, and A’nidreah who had decided to look down and focus on her drink. “What do you mean? Of course it does. I don’t want to be sent away from everything.” Chloe leaned forward, and looked at the others around the table. “Everything? Everything is not in Willow’s Heart alone Charlette. I just do not think it would be the end if the world if you, well, went outside for more than a demand from the Order.” Tension gripped the Order members at the table. “You know what I’m talking about when I say everything. I grew up here, this is home.” Chloe squared her shoulders, sat up straight. A mirror of Charlette when she was not willing to back down. “People make new homes all the time.” “Our family is here. Mother, father, the others from the coven.” “They can take a trip, see you and a bit of that world too.” “My botany work was all done here.” “And a lot of it was done out there too. Maxim will make the trip.” Chloe patted the blonde on the chest. He looked between the two, then dipped his head to Charlette “Working with us isn’t based on where you live. We could call on you, when we’re outside of bounds.” “My friends are all here, members of the Order. A’nidreah, Alistair, Loash, Ogi.” She was not balking, and neither was her sister. “There are no other taverns out there? I do not see anyone here so selfish they would never make the time to see their friend.” the others nodded, but it was without looking directly at Charlette. “I do not want to leave.” She finished, firm as she can be, the conversation needed to end. “Maybe you need to, maybe you are lying.” Chloe was not done. “I do not lie.” Charlette had started to feel a tightness in her chest. “That’s a lie.” “What do you want from me Chloe?” Her tone was harsh, it snapped. “I want you to be honest, and I want you to make a choice for yourself.” Chloe was irritatingly cool and calm. “How is ‘I do not want to leave behind my friends, family and home forever’ not honest enough for you?” Was she shouting? She didn’t feel like she was shouting, but her words were coming harder, A’nidreah’s ears were twitching downward. Alistair reached out a hand “Okay, anyone need a refill?” several hands went up, Charlette and Chloe continued to stare at each other. Chloe’s hand went up. Charlette’s followed, slowly. “I’ll help!” Loash was standing as soon as Alistair had escaped his seat. “Me too!” A’nidreah followed. Maxim was trapped at the far end, between the two sister’s, Ogi did not seem to care. Though he did make his escape via the classic. “I gotta pee.” The lalafell slipped out his seat and made his way to the back. The sisters squared off, Maxim tried to busy himself with folding a swan out of his serviette. “Stop lying to yourself Charlette.” Chloe finally ended the tense silence. “Stop acting like you know everything, and know better than everyone.” She felt angry, why was Chloe doing this now? Why did she always have to do this? “I do not know everything, or better than everyone. But I know my sister.” Did she though? It felt, to Charlette, like Chloe was constantly confused by her. “Then why do we fight more than we talk?” It was a good question to ask. It had been this way for a long, long time. “I do not fight you Charlette. You fight yourself, everytime you come close to this. I am just on your side, so you fight me too.” Charlette rolled her eyes, shaking her head and looking away from her Sister. “Come close to what?” she asked, near spitting it. “Choosing what you want, first.” Charlette watched out the side of her eye as Chloe placed her cup down, and leaned forward, elbows on the table, reaching across to try and meet Charlette’s touch halfway. “Be honest with me. Why is being out there, for your own reasons, such a terrible thing?” Charlette swallowed. Her friends had scattered around the tavern, Maxim’s swan was so poorly folded it looked mangled, and Chloe was pushing, like she always did. She didn’t want her to push now. Not here. She felt Chloe’s hands reach the rest of the way, pulling her hard grip from around her cup, and holding on. Her eyes felt warm. “I will not be able to see him any more.” “He is already gone, Charlette. He has been gone for twelvemoons.” “What is left of him is all here. Under Willow’s Heart earth, in our home, in his locker. In the Hall of Honour.” Chloe stood, walked around that table and sat herself next to Charlette, hugging her around the middle with one arm. “That is not what mattered to Fred, you know that. What mattered is how we saw him, you know this better than any of us. You know him better.” Charlette almost smiled, but Chloe saw the little curl of her lips. “Yeah. Maybe.” “Does he still make you laugh?” Charlette thought of him, and she spoke through a tearful chuckle. “Yes.” Chloe just smiled, and held on. “Then he is here.” It was a nice moment, right up until Chloe finished where she was going with this. “No stop using him as an excuse.”

#ffxivwrite2021 #ffxiv writing #ffxiv rp #ffxiv roleplay #elezen #duskwight

[shortforstark]

IronWidow Greek Gods au (part 2):

For the first time in a long time, Aphrodite wakes to find her husband in bed beside her. He’s curled up like a child, pressed against her for warmth. Who knew Tony Stark was a little spoon? He mumbles something unintelligible, face smashed against the pillow.

“What was that?” Natasha asks, poking Tony until one eye cracks open to glare at her.

“Let me bask,” he grumbles. One hand emerges from the tangle of blankets between them to lazily grope at her. She grabs his wrist and tugs until he emerges from his blanket cocoon.

“Blanket hog,” she teases.

“Hmmm,” is all she gets in reply as he greedily drinks in the sight of her. It would be sexier if he wasn’t still half asleep.

Hephaestus has always been an attentive lover, if a bit clingy. It seems that hasn’t changed in this lifetime. He looks at her like he can’t believe he got this lucky.

“Careful,” she warns fondly as she runs her hands through his tangled hair, “We wouldn’t want anyone to know Iron Man has such a soft, gooey heart.”

“Let me worship my wife like she deserves,” he replies, practically purring at her touch.

“Maybe later,” she says. “You have work to do.” He sighs.

“This all seems less urgent, now that I’m not dying,” Tony admits as he readies himself for the day.

“I think we could all do with less impulsivity on your part,” Natasha replies. She sorts through his collection of ties until she finds one she likes. “Wear this one,” she says.

“Yes, dear,” he snarks, though he does as she says without hesitation.

“It’s a shame we had to skip Monaco,” Tony says as JARVIS displays his schedule for the day. “I’d have liked to bring you.”

“There will be other chances,” Natasha shrugs. “Any thoughts on what you want to do for your birthday?” Tony makes a face at that.

“Do I have to?”

“You don’t have to do anything. You should probably do something. It’s expected.”

“What would you do if it was, hypothetically speaking, your last birthday, only it suddenly wasn’t?” Natasha just raises an eyebrow at that. He fidgets under her stare.

“I’ll cancel the party and plan a smaller one,” she declares. The way he relaxes, even as he tries to hide his reaction, tells her she made the right call.

“Sure,” he nods, with a casualness that’s obviously faked, “I’ll-“

“I get to pick the theme,” she cuts him off.

“Theme?” He stumbles after her, still trying to tie his shoes. “Tasha, what theme?” She just cackles and makes her escape as he’s forced to stop and actually put his shoes on right.

She grabs a very confused Colonel Rhodes on her way out the door.

“You, me, Party City,” she informs him.

“But-“

“No buts, Colonel. My husband needs a birthday party befitting the giant five year old he is.” To his credit, it takes mere seconds for Rhodes to be immediately on board.

“Call Sharon,” he says. “She’ll never forgive us if we leave her out of the planning.”

“Excellent idea, Colonel.”

“Call me Jim.”

#phill writes #tony stark #natasha romanoff #ironwidow #greek gods au #iron man #black widow #james rhodes #war machine

[grayhouse3]

SJTR is my villain origin story

So I finished Stalking Jack the Ripper.

Originally I told myself that I was going to just stick it out and read the next one (“Oh, it’s about vampires and Dracula. It’s probably more fun. You can forget all about the pain this one inflicted on you"). No. I got 12% of the way through and had to DNF. So here are my messily compiled thoughts on the book, basically expanded from the last post. Honestly, kind of feel free knowing I won’t be writing more about this series. (Also I am adding some TWs down below but don't know if I am doing them right!)

More on the exoticism, weirdness with Audrey Rose's Indian mother, and the British Empire:

In chapter 14, we read, "Dark strands of hair were piled atop my head, my eyes more mysterious somehow with the dark liner, and my lips were the bright crimson of freshly spilled blood … I thought of my mother and the saris she’d brought me to wear from Grandmama’s homeland. I felt just as stunning now as I did then, and the memory warmed me.” I am still trying to figure out why Maniscalco made Audrey Rose mixed race. Why is Audrey Rose’s grandmother from India? Literally, what did it add to the story? Was it nothing more than just a cute lil quirky fun character trait to her? I don’t think I missed any key moments where there were important conversations about race, imperialism, British occupation, etc., mostly because Audrey Rose’s father (a big fancy rich lord) is a white man and because Audrey Rose is white-passing. I can’t recall any moments in the book where she faces the realities/consequences of being a socially mobile POC WOMAN in LONDON IN THE 1880s. Honestly, if someone else can point out a passage I glossed over or explain some nuance I missed I would actually really appreciate it, because this drove me CRAZY.

(Audrey Rose and her brother also go visit a circus in town in chapter 15; of course these events existed purely for England/colonizing countries to exercise and display their power and to exoticize/exploit the communities/cultures that they came into contact with. Audrey Rose sees silks, beads, etc. that remind her of her grandmother’s saris, smells the foods of her family’s “homeland,” etc. Also in the same chapter there’s this great scene where her brother is describing their mother and father’s marriage: “Grandmama told me she’d refused him twenty times just for fun,” Nathaniel replied. “Said he squirmed like a cobra in a basket. That’s how she knew he was in love.” Uhhh … Is that supposed to be romantic?)

On the feminism stuff:

I am too *gestures vaguely* to write much more on this. Yeah, it’s heavy-handed. Yeah, it’s cringey. But at the end of the day, it’s not really that harmful, I guess. Here’s just a fun sampling of some of my favorite lines from the book:A few of my favorite bites from the book:

***“close-minded society” (chapter 21) Okay

***"Why turn a murderer of women into front-page news?” (chapter 15) Bro do you know how the media works

***"But what of her [mother’s] insistence that I could be both strong and beautiful? Surely Father had to be wrong.” (chapter 21) Yes girl you are strong and beautiful!

***"There would be no skirts or bustles to wrangle with anymore. I was through with things confining me” (chapter 22) Ugh down with corsets just another tool of the patriarchy amirite

On the violence against women, weird classism, and stuff about prostitution:

I was bound to be uncomfortable about a lot of this because I have weird feelings about true crime stuff, and this is historical fiction set around the Jack the Ripper murders. It was going to go sour somewhere.

Consistently Audrey Rose wants to be sympathetic, but is unable to connect all the parts of this situation together: she struggles to imagine the women (very real-life victims) beyond their lives of prostitution, poverty, squalor. When she does, we see something like this: "The women he murdered did matter ... They were daughters and wives and mothers and sisters” (chapter 28). Oftentimes she wishes she could continue to cut cadavers open in peace (women in science!) without having to think about how those cadavers came to be on her examination table: “I needed to get away from those women and their tragic lives before my emotions got the better of me” (chapter 25). Perhaps Maniscalco deserves more credit here, and perhaps I’m just being a bitch, because Audrey Rose is a very privileged girl and her actions and thoughts make that clear. It’s just that the conclusions she comes to in the name of feminism, justice, etc. weren’t at all satisfying to me.

Also: OH MY GOD. Oh my god. There is this one moment that is BRANDED AGAINST THE GRAY MATTER OF MY BRAIN FOREVER and I will never forget it. At one point, Audrey Rose and love interest Thomas decide the best thing they can do is go out and—yes—stalk Jack the Ripper. To do this, they know they need to “blend in” with the crowds in East End. So … like … cosplaying as poor people? Audrey Rose manages to find and wear the dress of ONE OF THE MURDER VICTIMS (long story short her medical doctor uncle was in a relationship with this woman and when she died he acquired her worldly possessions). It’s like, so fucked up, I can’t even describe my reaction when I read it. In chapter 25 we read, "The dress was a little too old, a little too ragged, a bit too big. If I were to wear this ghastly dress out, I’d look as if I belonged in the East End, begging for work to feed my addictions … It was absolutely perfect.” Oh my god. And THAT’S NOT EVEN THE WORST PART. While they’re “stalking Jack the Ripper” on this incredibly stupid mission, the two main characters just … make out in an alley. Like, okay. People are being murdered and you’re wearing a dead woman’s dress and you suspect your father of being guilty, but yeah, that kind of stuff makes us all a little horny. Super relatable. Absolutely no concept of reality or consequences or anything at all.

Another random note on class: I noticed the only time Maniscalco writes in dialects/accents, she’s writing seedy/working-class characters. Not saying this is a problem unique to Maniscalco’s writing by a longshot, but ... something to think on. (I think it’s ingrained in a lot of author’s writing habits/minds at this point.)

Weird stuff about the dad, the brother, and what justice means to Audrey Rose:

I had to add a whole new highlighting color for this stuff!

Any growth Audrey Rose might’ve shown over the course of the novel—anything about how these women mattered, and how they deserved justice as any “highborn” individual might, simply by dint of being humans—goes away when she and Thomas come to the conclusion that the Ripper murders must have been committed by Audrey Rose’s father. She realizes her moral dilemma when she contends with the harsh reality: if her father is the Ripper, can she turn him into the authorities? Audrey Rose worries how that might impact her own moral virtue: "They’d hang Father. Given who he was, they’d make it as public and brutal as possible. Just because blood might stain his hands did not mean I wanted his on mine. No matter if it was right or wrong” (chapter 24). First of all, BITCH. You have to. You have to report this kind of thing. No ifs, ands, or buts. I HAVE to imagine Maniscalco’s intended audience would feel the same? It’s? Serial murder? Second: Audrey Rose, baby, sweetie, honey. This is just a reminder that ACAB. I actually don’t know a whole lot about how the late Victorian criminal justice system functioned, but something tells me her family's public outlook would’ve been less bleak than she imagines here.

Lucky for Audrey Rose, her dad isn’t guilty in the end—but her brother sure is. He’s a mad scientist, using the brutalized bodies and souvenirs of his victims for Frankenstein-style experiments. Ultimately, he wants to reanimate the corpse of his and Audrey Rose’s long-dead mother, and he believes he can achieve this by transplanting fresh organs into ? Her dead and decomposed body? The thing is that, this moral dilemma persists for Audrey Rose—and her dad, too. He pressures her not to bring the little matter of Nathaniel’s issue—you know, his casual murder of a number of local women—to Scotland Yard: “They’ll have your brother hanged,” he said quietly. “Could you honestly watch that happen? As a family, have we not suffered enough?” (chapter 29). Nathaniel electrocutes himself to evade capture by the authorities, and Audrey Rose and her father feel relief. The book ends by confirming that "Lord Edmund covered up Nathaniel’s involvement, I didn’t ask how. One day I’d let everyone know the truth, but the pain was too raw now” (chapter 30).

((Side note: Listen. I knew Nathaniel had something sinister going on from the GET-GO (I’m not trying to be obnoxious) because he basically started some nighttime vigilante group called the Whitechapel Knights of Justice or whatever bullshit, I don’t know. All I know is that my red flags IMMEDIATELY started going off because that sounds exactly like the terrible and awful Crusader cosplay clubs from my (bad) Catholic childhood, where everyone thinks they’re a knight for Good but really they’re the bad guy.))

Overall, kind of ...

I think one of my biggest issues with this ending was … You have already stepped into a realm of fantastical revisionist history here in writing such a fictionalized version of these real-life events. (I know Maniscalco is far from the first to do it.) That means that the rules you are playing by are essentially your own—evidenced by the liberties she points out in her Author’s/Historical note (dates changed for convenience or storytelling purposes, real-life individuals changed for narrative purposes, etc.). So WHY would you not conclude this fantasy retelling of the Jack the Ripper murders by meting out some form of justice? I hear the counterargument: "Well, because we still don’t know the culprit today. This book would ring hollow if it named someone since historians, forensic scientists, etc. still don’t know who committed these crimes." My question: is that really a problem though? This is a work of fiction. Nothing in history happened the way it is written here. Is it crueler to the women who were murdered and who remain spectacles for true crime junkies and authors like this, less satisfying to readers who want some more concrete kind of closure, to not offer that up? I am asking this in earnest here, because I don’t know. Maybe it is insensitive to make up a murderer, to fill in the gaps in order to make sense of the violence that happened. But in my brain it feels almost like a responsibility at this point, since these murders served as the backdrop for the romance between Audrey Rose and Thomas, for the background to Audrey Rose’s empty feminist diatribes, and as inspiration for a book that went on far longer than it needed to. To me it kind of feels like the least an author could do, but I have no clue.

Anyways, I'm just glad I get to put this series to bed. No more.I truly lost sleep over it this weekend. Onto something better, please, for the love of god.

#mnc reads #mnc writes #stalking jack the ripper #sjtr #I dont know what to tag this as but I dont want to leave anything out! #tw death #tw suicice #body horror #violence #classism #I guess #racism #maybe #I dont know #Im sorry

[ezratm]

      * chicago’s very own ezra calhoun has been spotted on madison avenue , with a striking semblance to brandon larracuente ! you may know them as @calhoun or hitting the front page of tmz as calhoun curse ? the neighbourhood singer calls off third engagement in as many years . according to tmz , you just had your twenty - third birthday bash . your chance of surviving new york is uncertain because you’re imprudent , but being astute might help you . things that would paint a better picture of you would be a beat up telecaster slung over your shoulder , a clenched jaw as you try to play nice ( and fail miserably , ) a sharp tongue hiding the fear of ending up alone . ( cis man + he/him  ) +  ( teddy , 18+ , she/her , cst. )

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 : homelessness mention , drug mention .

𝟎𝟎𝟏.  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐒  :

ezra  is  the  eldest  of  five  ,  half  of  his  siblings  having  a  separate  dad  and  the  other  half  being  unsure  of  who  their  dad  is  at  all  .  their  mom  has  never  stayed  with  a  guy  for  longer  than  a  few  months  ,  a  year  being  the  usual  cut  off  before  it’s  onto  the  next  or  revisiting  the  old  .  either  way  ,  this  level  of  dysfunctionality  makes  a  lasting  impression  on  ezra  .

the  revolving  door  of  guys  telling  him  “ call  me  dad ”  left  him  with  the  feeling  that  perhaps  he’d  never  be  able  to  rely  on  another  man  in  his  life  ,  stepping  up  to  be  the  man  of  the  house  much  before  he  ever  knew  what  that  role  entailed  .  he  finds  his  mother  passed  out  far  too  often  ,  laughter  shared  over  dinner  yet  the  billowy  white  wisps  leaving  her  mouth  from  a  small  glass  pipe  on  the  balcony  when  she  thinks  he’s  not  watching  .  he’s  the  one  helping  siblings  with  homework  ,  packing  shoddy  lunches  with  whatever  food  stamp  goodies  they  can  get  their  hands  on  ,  making  sure  everyone  gets  to  the  bus  on  time  while  his  mother  is  semi  -  conscious  in  their  bathroom  .

there’s  guy  one  that  lasts  ,  daryl  who  enters  when  ezra  is  13  .  he  sends  ezra’s  mother  into  a  spiral  ,  enabling  her  past  the  point  of  daily  function  and  rendering  her  a  full  -  blown  junkie  while  he  mooches  off  the  little  savings  she  managed  to  scrape  together  .  ezra  acts  out  to  all  hell  ,  a  plague  of  any  classroom  he  inhabits  ,  mouthing  off  as  if  to  blow  off  the  steam  from  a  home  life  that  forces  him  into  silence  .  he’s  a  tyrant  in  the  classroom  but  a  savior  at  home  ,  where  a  wisdom  beyond  his  years  leads  him  to  show  up  to  his  siblings’  parent  -  teacher  meetings  as  the  only  “  grown  up  “  in  their  lives  who  truly  gives  a  shit  .

he’s  17  when  a  row  so  horrifying  with  his  mother  ,  siding  with  a  man  practically  dragging  her  down  to  hell  ,  forces  ezra  onto  the  streets  for  some  sort  of  reprieve  .  he’s  heartbroken  to  leave  his  siblings  but  finds  some  comfort  in  the  next  eldest  girls  being  equal  parts  brilliant  and  responsible  .  as  a  final  fuck  you  to  the  man  who  ruined  his  only  source  of  stability  ,  he  steals  daryl’s  most  prized  belongings  :  among  them  ,  a  limited  edition  signed  nirvana  cd  ,  and  a  rosewood  martin  acoustic  guitar  ,  more  suited  for  display  than  use  considering  the  price  .  

he  hops  from  shelter  to  bench  to  shelter  throughout  most  of  california  and  doesn’t  talk  much  about  what  he  has  to  do  to  survive  .  with  all  the  time  in  the  world  to  lounge  about  ,  he  learns  how  to  play  guitar  from  other  street  buskers  in  exchange  for  protection  in  numbers  ,  and  before  he  knows  it  ,  he’s  able  to  afford  a  long  term  hotel  in  los  angeles  by  playing  on  a  busy  corner  .  he  sings  as  if  his  life  depends  on  it  ,  and  at  times  ,  it  does  ,  but  before  long  ,  he’s  being  recognized  in  the  bus  station  he  plays  in  .  he’s  18  when  someone  posts  a  video  of  him  singing  “  creep  ”  by  radiohead  on  a  corner  which  sends  him  viral  ,  a  talent  agent  quickly  taking  him  off  the  streets  and  shoving  him  into  a  recording  booth  .  they’re  based  in  chicago  ,  and  fly  him  out  ,  cementing  his  love  for  the  city  that  gave  him  his  break  .

he  brings  along  a  couple  of  lads  he  had  met  on  his  travels  ,  some  fellow  vagabonds  ,  some  simply  guys  he’d  met  throughout  his  time  in  la  ,  and  before  long  their  debut  ep  “ i’m  sorry ”  catapults  them  to  radios  and  a  local  tour  .  by  the  time  their  full  length  album  drops  ,  the  neighbourhood  is  one  of  the  world’s  biggest  international  touring  acts  ,  a  push  of  indie  meets  pop  with  grunge  and  hip  hop  influences  .  

ezra  calhoun  ,  a  true  rags  to  riches  story  ,  indulges  perhaps  a  bit  too  heavily  in  the  lifestyle  he  has  suddenly  been  thrust  into  ,  becoming  something  of  a  media  frenzy  for  his  unpredictable  nature  .  sternly  keeping  his  personal  life  out  of  social  media  but  writing  open  -  hearted  love  songs  to  each  conquest  he  lands  (  as  well  as  being  a  rather  high  -  profile  serial  philanderer  ,  )  he’s  a  curious  contradiction  ,  stumbling  about  onstage  with  eloquent  penned  lyrics  yet  stepping  offstage  and  being  caught  up  in  every  scandal  in  the  book  .  shattered  engagements  ,  cheating  scandals  ,  drug  busts  ,  sloppy  performances  ,  ezra’s  more  and  more  a  liability  with  a  short  fuse  ,  risking  almost  as  much  for  the  team  behind  him  as  what  he’s  worth  .

he  doesn’t  try  to  use  his  past  as  a  sob  story  to  fuel  him  moving  forward  ,  but  anyone  who  knows  what  he’s  seen  growing  up  can  see  how  it  takes  hold  of  him  in  adulthood  .  he’s  every  bit  a  mess  as  what  his  aesthetic  would  make  him  seem  ,  destructive  to  a  fault  and  with  a  mouth  on  him  that  gets  him  in  as  much  trouble  as  it  gets  him  out  of  .  though  he  is  as  responsible  of  a  brother  as  his  siblings  could  have  asked  for  ,  his  notoriety  now  is  credited  to  the  chaos  he  causes  seemingly  just  for  fun  .

truly  little  to  no  moral  compass  as  at  this  point  ,  he  tells  himself  that  he’s  been  through  enough  shit  that  he  deserves  whatever  indulgences  he  chooses  to  give  himself  .  he’s  a  hedonist  through  and  through  ,  a  philanderer  as  if  it  keeps  him  breathing  ,  and  a  naturally  addictive  personality  ,  ezra  is  all  points  of  a  powder  keg  ready  to  blow  .

𝟎𝟎𝟐.  𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘   :

ezra  has  one  degree  of  separation  before  he’s  got  a  superiority  complex  ,  readily  staring  down  anyone  who  crosses  his  path  with  unflinching  eye  contact  and  a  flexed  jaw  .  everything  to  him  is  a  confrontation  and  one  he  makes  an  effort  to  come  out  unscathed  by  .  if  it’s  not  his  biting  wit  fighting  his  battles  for  him  ,  he’ll  engage  in  a  fist  fight  ,  though  he  hopes  to  make  that  his  last  case  scenario  .  he  goes  off  his  mind’s  whims  and  desires  and  does  so  with  little  prudence  for  the  sentiments  of  others  .  slack  jawed  and  eye  rolling  ,  ezra  is  a  bad  attitude  with  little  to  lose  ,  and  has  a  habit  of  butting  heads  with  those  who  stand  in  his  way  .  

people  point  out  the  interesting  dynamic  of  someone  so  aggressive  also  being  the  one  who  pens  albums  packed  with  love  ballads  .  between  sex  jams  and  bare  -  alls  detailing  the  sentiments  he  feels  over  connections  he  has  ,  ezra  may  seem  hidden  away  emotionally  but  is  really  more  prone  to  reveal  his  feelings  than  most  .  he’s  disconnected  and  aloof  at  first  when  simply  entertaining  himself  ,  but  truly  engages  with  only  a  few  who  can  get  him  to  tap  into  that  vein  of  passionate  energy  that  keeps  him  from  being  a  useless  waste  of  space  and  create  something  beautiful  .  if  he  can  sense  the  energy  taking  a  negative  turn  ,  he’s  every  bit  the  kind  of  smart  ass  to  get  the  last  word  in  and  end  up  in  a  street  fight  over  it  (  something  he’s  no  stranger  to  given  the  brand  of  guitar  he  so  proudly  carried  with  him  during  his  time  on  the  streets  .  )

he  seeks  out  whatever  makes  him  feel  good  and  seems  to  still  be  hiding  whatever  hole  was  left  by  his  mother’s  abandonment  ,  of  whom  he  hasn’t  talked  to  since  he  left  home  .  he’s  in  constant  contact  with  his  siblings  ,  but  this  isn’t  enough  to  quell  the  resentment  within  him  from  the  loss  of  his  one  sense  of  stability  .  this  explains  his  long  string  of  failed  relationships  and  a  tendency  to  act  on  impulse  ,  setting  fire  to  whatever  good  thing  may  come  to  him  (  although  with  his  tastes  ,  he  doesn’t  often  chase  the  good  things  .  )

𝟎𝟎𝟑  .  𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃  𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒  :

link can be found in the source 🤍

#wealthyhq:intro

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Biting Off More Than You Can Chew; part 9

Summary: Rus knew a confrontation was coming. He just didn't expect it like this.

Note: Wow, I am really sorry it took me so long to update this one. 

Tags: heatfic, dubious consent, NSFW, frenemies to lovers, mates, first time, more if I think of them

PLEASE READ THE TAGS: This is a Heat story, so there are going to be issues of consent. I don’t do partner rape, nope, but hey, I want to be straight with y’all. I like heatfics personally, but I understand how they can be troubling for some people. So there it is.

Read Chapter 1

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or

Read it here!

~~*~~

So it turned out Edge did deserve some credit. Despite being dumped on his own in Underswap where to him all the paths would seem backwards and wrongways, he didn’t do too bad getting back to Snowdin.

Not that Rus let him get too far out of sight. Better to not leave any of the Underfell crowd alone in his ‘verse, right? Edge probably wasn’t going to start any weekend massacres or anything, but it was always good to make sure nothing happened to make Monday morning coffee a little awkward at Muffet’s.

So instead of taking a direct shortcut home, instead he took shorter ones, keeping just ahead of Edge. Besides, even if Edge didn’t know the path, the hints of cigarette smoke that Rus left behind were probably as good as a map, anyway. Not the most conventional puzzle clue, but hey. Rus was a unique guy, gotta love it.

Rus was leaning against the garage, finishing up a last cigarette when Edge finally stalked back into town. He looked irritated, but if the last few hours taught Rus anything, it was that his expression didn’t always jive with what Edge was feeling.

"not bad, edgelord,” Rus called, “you made it back without—" killing anyone, Rus bit off. If they were stuck being bonded together, toning it down on being a complete dick was probably a good starting move, "—getting lost," Rus finished, lamely.

Somehow, he didn't think Edge was completely fooled by the bait and switch. "Thank you, I live for your middling approval. Knowing that I have your respect makes all the effort worthwhile.”

“i’m good for all kinds of middle-ing,” Rus gave him a wink and an upraised middle finger, softening it with a grin. The glare he got in return was no birthday surprise but—

Okay, Edge’s brick wall metaphor worked pretty well for keeping their emotions from butting together, but it was obvious they weren't entirely pros at this whole blocking off the bond thing. A ghostly brush of amusement that wasn’t his own slithered over Rus before vanishing.

Oh.

Edge thought he was funny. In spite of that face of his that always seemed stuck in constipated disapproval, beneath it, Edge actually thought he was funny. It was an uncomfortable realization, made Rus play back a dozen other interactions where he took Edge's remarks as sarcasm and yeah, they were, but not the sarcasm he thought, tainted with dislike and irritation. It was playful sarcasm, the funtimes sarcasm that Sans and Rus both wielded like weapons experts and Red—

Nope, Red was banned from the physical and mental today.

That faint pulse of amusement was turning Rus’s world on its head and Edge was staring at him with narrowed sockets. What was he feeling, Rus wondered, wildly, what emotions was Rus sending his way, because Edge told him the morning after over pancakes that he’d never hated Rus. Somehow, that hadn't gotten around to translating into Rus’s head that maybe Edge liked him, a little, and fuck, fuck, did he know that Rus was trying not to think about kissing him? That he was remembering the heat of Edge’s mouth when he’d fitted his teeth into the healing bite mark on Rus’s collarbone, which suddenly decided now was its chance to start throbbing. The temptation was growing despite Rus trying desperately to plant a mental brick on top of it.

Did he take a step closer or did Edge? Rus wasn't even sure. His cigarette dropped from his hand into the snow and Rus barely heard the hiss as it extinguished.

He was looking at Edge’s mouth and was certainly not thinking at all of the way he’d used it in their shared shower, the unexpected skill of his tongue, he wasn’t, he fucking wasn’t, and Rus didn’t even comprehend the soft ‘ting’ of Edge’s soul turning blue until he was yanked backwards and thrown to the ground. He whipped his head around to see Blue standing with his hand outstretched, his starry eyes blazing with blue-yellow flames. “What the hell did you do to my brother!”

Rus didn’t think. Everything was on automatic as he called on his own magic, flooding with more power than he normally accessed for simple shortcuts as he extended his control hand and pushed. His brother flew back, bouncing off the porch steps with enough force to knock a couple points off his HP.

Snow fell off him in clumps as Blue sat up, his expression twisting between hurt and shock. "Papy?"

Oh, fuck. What had he done, he’d never, never hurt his brother, oh, god, oh, fuck, he--

"okay, that's enough!"

He felt the hard rush of magic enveloping his own soul, the ridiculously cheery chime of it changing blue. It was the only warning he got before Rus was sent sprawling in the snow, cold wetness seeping into his sweatshirt and pants. With an effort, Rus lifted his head from the ground to see Blue and Edge both equally pinned.

To his shock, it was Sans holding them down, one eye socket blazing yellow-blue. His brother stood anxiously next to him, wringing his hands as Sans made his slow way down the stairs, uncaring at the slush dampening his slippers as he walked over to Rus.

"you all right?" Sans asked Rus bluntly.

"me?” Rus sputtered, “of course i’m all right, why the hell--“

Sans interrupted him, his normal laconic speech crisped into sharp syllables. It reminded Rus of…of someone, he wasn’t sure who— “because the three of us just got a hellava treat listening through a locked door while you begged him not to touch you, and when we broke in, you were both gone. no offense, edgelord, but that didn't seem like the world’s friendliest chat going on."

"None taken," Edge said calmly, for all the world like they were having a debate over the dining room table and he wasn't pinned down in the wet snow. "We can explain."

Rus flinched, because they could, but he didn't want to, he didn't, fuck, it was no one else's business. To his relief, he and Sans were in agreement.

"don't need an explanation,” Sans said. The sharpness in his words faded with the strobing light in his socket. “whatever is between you two is on you. just wanted to make sure no one was hurt." He let his hand drop and the pressure on Rus’s soul eased. “now, i wanna watch a movie. you all can come along when you’re ready. c’mon, pap.”

He shuffled his way into the house, Papyrus at his heels and whatever furious, too-loud whispers he was directing at his brother were drowned out by the dull roar in Rus’s head as he looked over to where Blue was laying.

Rus scrambled up and stumbled over to his brother who was slowly sitting up. His baby brother whom he’d never hurt, never, spent years putting band aids on his scraped knees, worked three jobs until he’d been able to get them a house. Those starry eyes always looked at him trustingly, always, and Rus fell to his knees next to him, reaching out and afraid to touch. “blue," Rus started brokenly, "i’m so--"

He broke off when Blue flung himself into his arms, holding him tightly enough to make his breath whoosh out. "Papy! I was so worried!"

"i'm sorry, bro," Rus wheezed, hugged him just as tightly even as his ribs groaned a protest.

He heard the crunch of snow next to them and ducked his head lower, burying his face into Blue’s scarf. Not even a week bonded, and it was already fucking with his head enough that he’d hurt his brother. He needed to get a handle on this, now, and it was pretty obvious that Edge being in his general vicinity wasn’t helping.

A raw little sound escaped from Rus as Blue let go, trying to squirm free and reluctantly, Rus let him. Standing, his brother was barely taller than Rus was kneeling down, but he looked up over Rus’s head with uncommon solemnness.

"I'm sorry, Edge," Blue said quietly.

"No apologies are necessary.” That rough voice, directly behind him, and Rus viciously suppressed a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold snow he was kneeling in. "You were worried for your brother, of course you'd want to protect him.”

Despite his sincere attempts not to think of Red, a pang went through Rus, mostly his, but maybe not all. Protecting his brother, yeah, and Red was a fucker and a half, but—

More snow crunching, moving away and Rus heard the click of the front door, leaving him alone with his brother.

Lifting his head to look at Blue was the hardest thing Rus had ever done. But his eye lights were as starry as ever, filled with that same trust. Not that Rus deserved it, never had, but even less so now. “bro, i’m so sorry.”

Blue only waved it off, unconcerned that his older brother just fucking attacked him like some New Home street thug. “Don’t be silly, Alphys does worse than that when she tells me good morning.”

Too forgiving, by far, always, but damn if Rus wasn’t selfish enough to take it. He nodded, letting out a shaky sigh, “i'm sorry if we worried you.”

Now that he wasn’t all torn up by his feeble attempt at fratricide, what Sans said was starting to come in a little clearer. No wonder Edge let them all off so easy; if Rus had been on the other side of the door listening to Blue begging someone not to touch him, they’d be picking splinters out of the kitchen cupboards for a month.

A gloved hand cupped the side of Rus’s face he leaned into it, shamelessly basking in his brother’s affection. “Papy, what’s going on?”

“i—" Rus hesitated, swallowing hard. How could he explain any part of this to his brother? He’d never hidden his sexual proclivities, neither proud nor ashamed of them, and Blue never judged. The worst he’d ever gotten was exasperated when Rus was late because he’d accidentally slept over. But how could he look into his brother’s trusting, starry eyes and explain this clusterfuck? But he couldn’t say nothing, either.

Okay, then, evasive maneuvers. “can we talk about it later?”

Gentle as his brother was, there was some steel in his spine and right now it was working as a poker in his ass. That expression was pure determination, even as Blue nodded. He was getting a pass, for now, but it wouldn’t last forever, and Rus was going to have to either come clean or work out a new bedtime story that Blue might buy.

Welp, that was a problem for Tomorrow Rus. Today Rus pulled his brother in for another hug, one that Blue happily returned…for a moment.

"Phew!" Blue pushed him away, and his expression was one of almost comical dismay. "You stink, brother, when was the last time you took shower?"

Wow, rude. “i took a shower this morning! i’m clean as a freshly washed bar of soap.” Rus tugged up the front of his sweatshirt and gave it a good sniff. Didn’t smell weird to him, but then, he spent all day stewing in his odors, so he probably wouldn’t notice. "probably my hoodie, must've picked it from the wrong laundry pile."

“Go change,” Blue scolded, giving him a gentle shove even as he waved a hand in front of his face. “Do you want to finish the movie? You can go take a nap if you’d rather, I can tell the others you’re tired.”

“bro, you are a bonafide living angel,” Rus said, and that was nothing but frank honesty.

Blue huffed out a laugh and gave him another playful shove. “Go on, then, I’ll bring you up a plate later.”

“thanks, bro,” Rus scrambled to his feet, dripping snow as he dropped a kiss on top of Blue’s skull and stepped back, shortcutting up to his room. He stripped off his wet clothes and left them in a pile, not bothering to replace them as he collapsed bare bones onto the mattress, already halfway to an exhausted dreamland.

The blanket stayed in a crumpled ball at his feet, unused. Maybe he needed to check on their thermostat, Rus decided, already more asleep than not. Cheap fucking thing might be broken again, because it felt like it was set too high. The house seemed kinda hot.

~~*~~

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #biting off more than you can chew

[constantlyirksome]

Pose 2x02 Review: Will Somebody Take Away Candy’s Damn Hammer??

After a thrilling political season premiere, Pose slows things down and gets a little more personal. Mother Blanca, young Damon, and queen Elektra take center stage in an episode about self-acceptance and finding your own self-worth. When the category is love, its good to see the focus was pointed inwards. Blanca tells her children that once she would have done whatever it took to find a little bit of love and companionship, including having unsafe sex. Now however she knows true love and worth comes from within, and when you are yourself the right people will gravitate towards you.

Blanca comes face to face with real-estate mogul and dog owner Fredrica Norman, played by the iconic Patty Lupone. As a gay icon, it’s truly incredible that Patty could create a character so loathsome and so stuck up. A fancy lady who owns half of New York, she offers Blanca a storefront for the house mother to open up her own nail salon. Her motivations are to gentrify the streets she lives on so that the rabble (anyone queer and not white,) will leave. At first, Blanca tries her best to ‘pass’ as a cis woman, believing her worth and employability lies only in her ability to be womanly. She gives a little insight into what it’s like trying to look womanly and shop as a trans woman, and not being able to use dressing rooms. It was an eye-opener into something so simple that probably has a huge impact on people going through the same things.

She convinces Norman at first, who congratulates herself on supporting a hard working Latinx woman. However, when Fredrica hears about Blanca’s identity through the grapevine all hell breaks loose. Miss Lupone is utterly terrifying as she threatens and boasts, threatening to knock Blanca out on her ass. But MJ Rodriguez manages to match her intensity, claiming squatters’ rights and opens up shop anyway. She stands proud and tells Norman “I’m not here to gentrify neighborhoods so white ladies like you can feel safe walking down the street, I’m here for me.” Whether Miss Lupine will follow through on her threat to take Blanca’s kneecaps or not, I’m here for more of this rivalry.

Elektra has been flinging a lot of cash around this season for someone who was homeless last season, and this episode we find out why. She’s become a fierce and hugely successful dominatrix. She is on a different path than all the other characters this season, not joining in any community activities. But she has the strongest sense of self out of anyone on the show. She knows she’s not a follower, as she lets the house of Ferocity know during another heated dinner. She breaks off and forms her second house, the house of Wintour. The “Wintour is coming” joke annoyed me more than it should, considering it’s supposed to be 1990. The obvious pun wasn’t really worth breaking the fourth wall over. But her new house is fierce! Where were these dancers and gals all this time? It’s like she formed her own suicide squad. House hoppers Cubby and Lemar, not enjoying Blanca’s tough love and common sense, jump ship to their fourth house in ten episodes. Elektra’s determination to be self-reliant and in control is admirable, even if she doesn’t share the same values as Blanca or Pray Tell, the children have a lot to learn from her. Her dramatic entrance, after having disrespected the House of Ferocity, is met by Miss Candy and her trusty hammer, but worry not, because Elektra has a knife. Who is doing checks at the door???

It’s Damon’s arc that is truly heartbreaking this episode. Ricky comes back after a worldwide dance tour and they waste no time getting down and dirty, it’s super hot. But when a bar floozy implies that he slept with Ricky, repeatedly on the tour a second fight of the night breaks out as Damon rightfully smacks the crap out of the guy. Ricky, in a TRULY disappointing move, dodges questions until Damon finds the truth. Seriously Ricky was such a babe but he was truly trash this episode and deserves to sweat for what he did. Having sex under any sort of false pretenses, like having unsafe sex with a random and then convincing your boyfriend to do the same, is not on even if the sex was consensual. Damon deserves better. Blanca helps him realizes this, and Ricky and Damon’s relationship ends in the same place it began as he vows to work on himself.

After Damon and Ricky have their fight over unsafe sex she resolves to be a better mother by standing up for herself against Fredrica Norman, and finally revealing to them that she has AIDS. Lil Papi, the only Evangilista man who has shown any class this episode, gives a tearful promise to his house mother that he will do whatever it takes to keep her safe and healthy. It’s the emotional highpoint in the episode thanks to MJ and Angel Curiel, who’s really stepping up this season. He and Angel spend most of the episode being cute together and butting in on other peoples business. But it’s this tearful vow that connects the episode to the Grandfather of New York ballroom Hector Xtravaganza who died late last year. The episodes best look, a tearaway skirt that stands on its own worn by miss Lulu is a tribute to him, as is a direct quote that appeared before the credits:

“Blood does not a family make. Those are relatives. Family are those you share your good, bad, and ugly, and still love one another in the end. Those are the ones you select” – Hector Xtravaganza

#reviews #pose #pose fx #blanca evangelista #mj rodriguez #elektra #dominique jackson #damon evangelista #ryan jamaal swain #angel evangelista #lil papi

[neverwatchedonepiece]

613-614: "Showing Off His Techniques! Zoro's Formidable One Sword Style!" and "To Save Her Friends! Mocha Runs at the Risk of Her Life!"

I feel like by the time Luffy finds Caesar, his rage will have reached critical mass.

The best actor awards in episodes 613 and 614 obviously go to Zoro and Chopper. Best supporting actors must also be given credit and the plaudits go to Tashigi and little Mocha.

From a narrative standpoint, I’d say these episodes continue the “tying up loose ends” theme from the last two. But there’s also a decent chunk of character development here, especially from Zoro in 613.

Cuz You’re My Bro, Bro.

The action picked up with Sanji leading his G5 Fans out of the Biscuit Room and away from “Harpy-chan”. Onward they charged to serve the noblest of causes: impressing Nami and Robin by saving the kids!

The G5 Fans had a teeny problem, though. Why didn’t Sanji, their saviour, help out earlier when Monet was chewing through shoulders?

Sanji told them straight. “Don’t be dumb. I don’t kick women.”

A G5 dude said what we all probably thought, “Then what would you do in a life or death situation?”

Again, Sanji told them straight. “I’d choose death.”

At this point I would normally insert the man blinking gif, but at least I have confirmation that Sanji hasn’t changed that much over the timeskip. It is dumb that he would never fight back (and dangerous, if you remember Kalifa). Also, not a good idea to inform the Marines of your major weakness. Still, it’s a huge part of Sanji’s character, will likely never go away, and as long as he doesn’t endanger another Strawhat by refusing to fight a lady, I guess I’ll just accept it.

The G5 Dudes were surprised to hear this from Sanji. These Strawhats were all so different, even though they work in the same pirate group. That pirate hunter guy, Zoro. He looked like he’d chop up anyone without mercy!

That comment made Sanji laugh. “Surprisingly, he has a soft side too. He’ll find a way out. You can count on him. Don’t worry. And don’t worry about Tashigi-chan, either.”

“You can count on him.”

There you have it, folks. Proof that, even though they rag on each other constantly, it’s more like two really close guys bickering and bantering back and forth, rather than actual dislike. I never ever believed they disliked each other. They just love bickering and noising each other up. Plus, all the bickering pushes them to achieve. Zoro’s success drives Sanji to be better and vice versa.

And Sanji does not dismiss Tashigi either, which is nice. Sanji acknowledged Zoro’s strength by saying, “Yeah, he’ll find a way out.” He also did the same for Tashigi. That could be evidence for the argument that Sanji does not view women as inferior. He’s just an old-fashioned, chivalrous type who feels like must protect women.

Which leads us neatly on to Zoro.

The Jury’s out on This One. Or Is It?

Back in the Biscuit Room, Zoro and Tashigi were already butting heads. Zoro insisted he didn’t need Tashigi’s help. 

She countered with, “You think whatever you want”. 

Zoro shot back with, “you want me to take care of you first, since I’m a pirate, Marine soldier girl?”

And Tashigi revealed what she thought was the root of Zoro’s problem with Monet. “You can’t do that. You are not going to cut me or that woman.”

She believes Zoro looks down on her because she’s a woman.

I’m not sure about that, to be honest. I think Zoro’s better than that. And here’s why.

Tashigi recalled her first encounter with Zoro way back in Loguetown. She was defeated by him then and angrily asked why he wouldn’t finish her, Mortal Kombat style. “Is it because I’m a woman? It’s humiliating that you won’t fight seriously in a game played in earnest just because men are physically stronger than women! I’m sure you don’t understand the feeling that I wish I was born a boy. I don’t carry a sword for pleasure.”

Leaving aside the possibility that Tashigi might one day pay Ivan-san a visit, as a female swordsman and Marine captain, she has obviously come up against the roadblock of sexism time and again. If someone looks down on her, it’s because of that.

I do think Zoro was being honest when he said the reason he couldn’t fight her was because she reminded him of his friend who had died. I think he was genuinely spooked back then.

But Tashigi didn’t believe him. “You view women as inferior. You don’t really try to fight us. You won’t kill us. You might not lose but you won’t win against Monet, either.” She basically said that if she let Monet go after her men, there would be carnage. Which was true.

Zoro said, “Are you looking down on me?”

Tashigi’s reply was a blunt, “Yes.”

“Fine. Do what you want.” Zoro sheathed his swords. “My duty is to keep her again from my friends too. All I have to do is block that path.”

What I think happened here is that Zoro thought, “Fine. I’ll let you handle this and I’ll see how you go.” Not in a patronising way. More like a “big brother” or “senpai” role. Kind of like how he is with Chopper and Usopp and Nami, the slightly weaker members of the crew. He’ll let them do their thing, but if he has to step in for their safety, he will do so without hesitation.

Zoro knows he’s the stronger swordsman here, but did not rub that in Tashigi’s face. He sat back and thought, “Good. You’ve improved a lot since Loguetown. You do have some fighting spirit, after all. Fine, you take this and if I need to, I’ll step in, but only if it gets really bad.”

And that’s pretty much how the fight panned out.

Were These Manga Panels? (Because They’re Awesome)

It was good to see that Tashigi’s confidence has grown. She snapped back at Zoro. Her fight with Monet confirms she has learned haki. (Probably a must for higher ranking officers in the New World.) She is tough, determined and strategic as she would not let go even when Monet was munching her shoulder. Nom, nom, nom.

But what the fight with Monet also confirmed is that if a logia user is fast enough, bog-standard haki will not cut it. I’m actually cool with that because it means Luffy won’t be able to just blitz everyone with Conqueror’s Haki (I know it only works on fodder but still, you know how I like a bit of peril in plot.) This also bodes well for the Smoker fight. Vergo is strong in the way of Haki but Smoker is a fast, tricky Logia type. Should be a good fight, when we get to see the end of it.

The speed differential meant Monet gained the upper hand. The way she gnawed on Tashigi’s shoulder was savage.

This is when Zoro thought, “Okay. Enough. Big brother has seen enough of Tashigi being bullied.”

Even unsheathing his swords, Zoro does damage. (The warning cut on Monet’s face should have been her cue to scarper.)

Still, Zoro would never, ever admit that he likes to help out anyone because that would ruin his pirate-hunter image. So he shit-talked Tashigi a bit. “You talk big but you took so much time. Time’s up. I have to go now.”

And to Monet, he said, “When you thought you couldn’t beat me, you should have run. Of course there are things I don’t wanna cut. But let me ask you something. Have you ever seen a fierce animal you were sure would never bite? Because I haven’t.”

The grey filter descended. Everything was in slow motion. Monet could not move.

Then, with his one-sword style: Great Dragon Shock, Zoro literally ripped Monet a new one.

Honestly, the Zoro and Tashigi fight was so damned savage. There was Monet, lying on the ground in two pieces, twitching and flailing and freaking out because she could no longer control her body (nightmare fuel) and Zoro wise-cracking, like, “Are you two happy now?” xD

And do you know what? Zoro didn’t even use haki. If he had, Monet would probably be dead.

But Monet did get up and tried to strike again - and this time, Tashigi was the one to finish her off. (Laws of shounen. Women have to fight women. The trope was so close to being subverted!)

Of course, Tashigi ragged on Zoro for not killing Monet. “You are like that, after all! You can’t fight seriously against women.”

Nah... I don’t think it’s that, exactly. think Sanji’s right about Zoro. He does have a softer side. But it’s not like Sanji’s, in that he wants to protect women. Zoro just likes to help out deserving people who are not as strong as him. Secretly, though, while maintaining his surly demeanor.  And maybe he just doesn’t like killing all that much. If they’re a good opponent, you can fight them again someday, right? Why waste them?

YMMV, of course, and I don’t mind if anyone disagrees. I can see the evidence for the other side too.

And, of course, Tashigi collapsed from her injuries and Zoro had to lift her out of the Biscuit Room. Just as well, really, because the gas was leaking in and Zoro has no sense of direction. I think this is a new record for Zoro: getting lost in a round room with two doors.

How sweet was that little scene with Tashigi geeking out over Shisui, though?

I think from now on, Zoro and Tashigi will be secret buddies. :)

IT’S SAD CHOPPER, NOOOOOOOO... ;_;

I love Chopper. Ever since I learned about his past back on Drum Island, I have had a major soft spot for Chopper. Fun fact: I own a Chopper key topper, a Chopper roll-up pencil case and a giant Chopper mug I drink coffee from every morning without fail. You could say I am a Chopper fan.

I like his honesty, his cleverness and his kindness. Cleverness is not a rare commodity in scientists at Caesar’s level. But kindness and honesty? Those are first edition shiny Charizard rare qualities.

And I’m gonna frame this bit of discussion of Chopper by comparing him with Caesar. Because Caesar has said the following phrase several times this arc, to the point it stood out to me: “I will treat you at any cost.”

Every time I heard him say that, I was like, “Nice significant omission, Caesar. You’ll treat them with your crazy drugs at any cost. You’ll treat them with that poisoned candy at any cost. You will continue your “treatments” at any cost.” Another sugar-coated lie with a basis in truth. The sort Caesar specialises in.

I was not aware of the actual cost until now.

The morality bar has officially given up and gone home. It’s crying on the sofa now because it can’t deal with Caesar anymore. (@infriga That human garbage comment... Oda is not wrong there. xD)

Mocha Regrets Doing The Chili Pepper Challenge

The action in 614 picked up with Robin and Chopper teaming up to restrain and sedate children. Not in a Nurse Ratchet way. They were helping.

The kids still running free were being held back by Nami and Mocha. Well, Nami tried to hold them back without hurting them (which is nigh impossible with her weather skill set) and Mocha ran with the candy.

Inevitably, the giant kids were the real obstacle. One took a might swing and Nami and suddenly, Mocha was on her own. She ran to a crossroads, and then, like Gandalf at Moria, she was like, “I have no memory of this place.”

But the other kids did. Some looped round and cut her off.

Must admit, at this point I thinking, “Jeez, just let them have the damned candy and you can sedate them later. They’ve been dosed for years. One more won’t kill them.”

Because Mocha knew it was, in fact, the opposite, she decided to take one for the team and NECK THE ENTIRE LOT OF CANDY IN ONE GO.

Even I gasped at that one. That was a major, major overdose. Even Chopper had never seen anyone put away that quantity of drugs before. He was screaming at her to spit them out. He had told her what kind of drug it was! But Mocha hamstered them in her cheeks for a while and I thought, cool, she’ll hold them there until the kids are all sedated. Job done!

Nope. This is Oda we’re talking about.

He was about to engage Sad Chopper and Certain Death and I was not ready for them.

Chopper and Caesar Compared

Remember when Chopper and Mocha were holding the door against the other kids? There was a bit of that conversation OP fans were not party to (Oda’s fave cutaway technique in action again).

Mocha asked Chopper if Caesar really was a bad person. He was always so lovely to them and gave them candy every day. 

“Yes,” Chopper said. “That’s his trick. You kids are his test subjects. You were never sick from the beginning and your giant body is proof. I’ve heard turning people into giants has been a project underway for hundreds of years. No one has ever succeeded. This experiment is a doomed failure too. Caesar knows this. I suppose he’s just collecting data for his next attempt.”

Then poor, little Mocha asked a difficult question. “What’s going to happen to us?”

Chopper dropped the heavy truth bomb.

“You’re all gonna die. None of you will make it home. That candy is a deadly poison. It will destroy your body before you know it. The more you eat, you’ll crave more and the harder it’ll be for you to get away from Caesar. I sedated you already but from the side-effects from the candy... you’ll probably die before you can even become an adult.”

Ouch. 

Huge, huge ouch. 

Especially since Mocha had a short flashback where the kids all got together and promised to go out to sea when they were in their twenties and have an adventure. Once they got better and went home. ;_;

I mean, hefty truth bombs of that magnitude are not normally the way you’d deal with breaking such crushing news to kids. But that’s not Chopper’s way. He is kind and honest, almost to a fault. Plus, they were in a really highly-charged, difficult, life-or-death situation. The truth was probably the quickest way to impress on Mocha the seriousness of what was happening.

Chopper also hinted they might not die, “but only if you kids escape now. You’re not gonna die. We will save you all!” That glimmer of hope led to Mocha making a noble sacrifice for her friends. If she could show them what the candy did, they wouldn’t want to eat it. Then they’d want to go home, just like her.

But here’s the thing... Chopper told Mocha the truth. Even though it shook her to the core and distressed her deeply, it was the right thing to do and helped Mocha take difficult steps to improve her situation. Being carted away by Sanji and his G5 fans to a treatment room, Chopper said: “I will save you at any cost, Mocha!” 

Chopper will do anything to save Mocha, which means getting her better, off the drugs and home to her parents.

This is in stark contrast to Caesar, who always said, “I will treat you at any cost.”

The treatment was the experimental drug and the cost was Mocha’s life.

Caesar wanted data to further his own ambitions. 

Chopper’s motivations are entirely selfless.

Chopper for President.

Oh, and btw, Luffy punched his way out of the garbage pit. The haki use on the fodders and the “Do I have to repeat myself?” moment was badass.

Caesar, you’d better get a jar because you’ll need somewhere to put all your loose teeth.

Caesar has made Luffy so angry he tries punching through the fourth wall to find him.

#one piece #neverwatchedonepiece #nwop #never watched one piece #monkey d. luffy #roronoa zoro #sanji #tony tony chopper #usopp #nami #nico robin #brook #mocha #monet #caesar clown #foxfire kinemon #momonosuke

[comebackolivia]

I have some feelings on how Stephanie and Jason get treated in canon and wanted to explore that, so here. Have some character exploration of my two favs. 

Posted on my AO3 as chapter 5 of F*ck This Family. 

Jason stumbled out of his bedroom, reeking of alcohol and stale cigarette smoke, still dressed in the hoodie he’d been wearing the night before, but it was on backwards and his boots were on the wrong feet. He was pale, his eyes were bloodshot, and overall, he looked like death warmed over as he trudged into his kitchen, gaze trained on the coffeemaker.

He startled, then grimaced when he noticed her sitting on his countertop munching away on a pop-tart.

It took him a bit, but after he’d poured himself a mug of black as pitch coffee and downed half of it, he managed to croak out some words.

“The temptation will be to judge me. Don’t.”

Stephanie smirked, amused. “I got a very interesting text message this morning.” He shot her a glare that was very unimpressive on his hangover from hell complexion, so she continued, undeterred. “Roy asked me to drop by this morning to check that you were still alive and hadn’t choked on your own vomit. Apparently, you drunk dialed him a few times last night, and since he’s all the way across the country, he couldn’t come and check on you himself. How do you feel?”

“How does it fucking look like I feel?” he snapped, and Stephanie’s smirk morphed into a frown. Jason was a lot of things, but he wasn’t usually mean. Not to her at least. He didn’t get roaring drunk either, which meant he’d probably been given a good reason to go out and get wasted.

She’d bet good money it was a fight with someone in the family.

“Who was it?” she asked, more seriously. “Bruce?”

Jason scowled and turned away to rummage through his fridge. After a moment, he corrected, “Dick.”

Stephanie hummed sympathetically. “What happened?”

“He said something stupid and I got pissed off. Then we screamed a lot.”

She grimaced, glad she’d missed that. From what she’d seen lately, Dick had been stretching himself thin and was feeling the pressure. Prolonged stress made him crabby and shortened his temper, which was always more explosive than people believed of him. It wouldn’t have taken much for him to snap at his brother, and Jason never took that kind of thing well.

“Wanna talk about it?” Steph offered after a moment of silence.

Jason laid some strips of bacon on a hot pan and turned his attention to scrambling some eggs. “He’s a fucking dick. What else is there to say?”

Stephanie pursed her lips. As much as he joked around about it, the second Robin didn’t tend to drink in excess. Not with their lifestyles and not with his personal history. He’d told her once that his father had been a mean drunk. She knew what that was like, and knew it likely meant avoiding getting drunk altogether for Jason, at least until shit hit the fan.

“Whatever he said, he’s wrong,” she piped up, making Jason’s shoulders stiffen where he stood at the stove with his back to her. She probably shouldn’t have said anything. It wasn’t her business and Jason and Dick didn’t need her butting in, but she knew what it was like, to never be fully part of this family—to be considered the problem child—the easy target when the others were passing around blame.

From the beginning she’d had to fight her way out of the shadow of Jason Todd. She’d been compared to him left and right, told she was too much like him and it would get her killed one day. She was constantly looked down on as not good enough, too wild, untrainable. Whatever. How much worse was it for Jason who was the standard of badness she’d been judged against?

It was bullshit and she’d raged against it more than once. Because now that she knew him, she could see that she and Jason were nothing alike. Sure, they had similar backgrounds, their personalities meshed well together, and they made a great team in boardgames, but they operated completely differently. Jason was a planner, always had his eye on the prize, a big picture thinker. But, he wasn’t tied to it. He could shift or adapt if he needed to, and the second he felt that the victim was more important than the big picture, he’d throw the big picture right out the window. She respected the hell out of that, because what was the point of it all if they weren’t helping the victims? The individuals. The people who deserved justice, but couldn’t be heard amidst the bureaucracy, corruption, and bullshit. She might not always like his methods, she’d never approve of him killing, but she respected his motivation. She felt that same drive.

But that’s where the similarities ended. They had the same compassion, but where Jason was a planner, Stephanie wore her heart on her sleeve and followed wherever it took her. Jason only appeared impulsive. Stephanie actually was. Over time though, she’d been able to turn it into a strength. Impulsiveness transitioned to adaptability and that was a major asset to have in the field.

The fact that she still took crap for it drove her nuts. The fact that she was still constantly compared to Jason drove her even more nuts.

It wasn’t fair to either of them. They operated differently, had different strengths that helped them be effective in the field. What the others did and said diminished them. It ignored their strengths and compounded their weaknesses. And it was total and utter bullshit. Neither of them got enough credit. They were both good at what they did, and they were good in different ways. The fact that the rest of the family, some of the smartest people on the planet, couldn’t see that? Well, it pissed her the hell off.

So whatever Dick had said, even if it had been coming from a place of stress and exhaustion, she knew it was wrong. Jason needed to know that too.

“You ever get sick of it?” he asked after a moment, voice scratchy and shoulders hunched. He still hadn’t turned away from the stove.

“Of what?”

“Being the family punching bags,” he retorted. “The ones they lash out at when they’re feeling pissy. Bruce does it all the fucking time. Dick too. He won’t with Tim, Damian, or Cass, but you and me are fair game. Every time.”

Her gaze darkened. She knew exactly what he was talking about. She’d experienced it countless times. Bruce was stressed so he’d ream her out for something she did in the field. Something small and insignificant that hadn’t affected anything whatsoever, but still wasn’t what Bruce would have done so clearly it was stupid, impulsive, childish, whatever. Barbara had a tendency to do it as well—snap at her whenever she was stressed. Chew her out for something that had nothing to do with anything. She didn’t get a lot of it from Dick, but she had been snapped at by him plenty of times. And yeah, they didn’t tend to handle their stress in functional, healthy ways, and she’d seen Damian and Tim get snapped at plenty of times. But it wasn’t the same. It was never quite so acidic with them.

“Yes,” she answered plainly because it was true. She often found herself wondering what the hell she was even doing with them when it was so clear she would never fit the way they wanted her too. She almost hadn’t come back after Black Mask, and sometimes she questioned why she had at all. She had her reasons of course, but in her weaker moments she wondered if it was worth it.

At her reply, Jason finally turned from the stove to face her. His face was still pale, and she thought that maybe his red eyes were a little waterier than they’d been when he first walked in. Her stomach clenched in sympathy.

“You ever consider saying ‘fuck ‘em’ and walking away from it all?”

It was like he was reading her mind. “Yes,” she admitted.

Jason frowned and turned back to the stove. Steph watched, suddenly feeling tired as he loaded a plate with bacon, scrambled eggs and toast. She was surprised when he handed the plate to her and fixed another one for herself.

They ate in silence.

“I don’t want to let them be right about me,” she spoke up once they were almost finished.

“They’re not,” Jason answered immediately. “Spite’s a hell of a motivator though, so keep proving them wrong.”

Stephanie smirked, feeling the heaviness that had settled in the room finally lift a little. “I am a kickass vigilante fueled by bitterness and spite,” she declared wryly.

Jason snorted into his coffee, then raised the mug. “Here, here.”

“Seriously though, you okay?” she asked after another smaller stretch of silence. There was a little more color in his face after eating breakfast. Greasy breakfast foods weren’t her go to hangover cure, but it seemed to do a decent job of dragging Jason back from the brink of hangover death.

“Yeah. It’s only a matter of time before Dick tracks me down or finds my new number and apologizes. It’ll take longer for me to accept the apology though. I’ll probably hold off until he starts bringing me food and shit.”

“Nice,” Stephanie replied, bobbing her head in approval. Then she paused and asked, “When did you get a new number?”

“I haven’t yet, but I vaguely remember chucking my phone of the roof of a building last night, so I’ll have to do that at some point.”

Stephanie snorted. She couldn’t help it. The mental image of grumpy, drunk Jason throwing a phone off a Gotham roof was hilarious. He was so overly dramatic.

“What the hell were you doing on top of a building wasted? That’s a health and safety no-no, you know,” she retorted with a teasing smirk. “What were you doing, serenading the pigeons?”

“Performing Hamlet with the gargoyles if you must know.”

“Oh god,” she exclaimed, cracking up at just the thought of drunk off his ass Jason dramatically declaring “To be or not to be” to a gargoyle audience. “You have no idea how much I’d give to have seen that.”

“Yeah, well it was a one time performance so you snooze you lose, Blondie.”

“Yeah, well your hoodie is on backwards,” she retorted, snickering at his surprised look as he realized it was actually on backwards.

“The fuck?” he wondered quietly, pulling at the hood that had been settled at his neck. How he missed this while eating was beyond Steph.

“And your boots are on the wrong feet.”

Jason looked down and groaned loudly, much to Stephanie’s delight. “Fucking hell. I knew something felt off.”

“You also stink. Like horrendously. What’d you do? Bathe in vodka and cigarette ash?”

“Shut up. I fed you and this is the thanks I get?”

“Yeah, you fed me, but does it really count if there weren’t waffles?”

“Yes, it absolutely counts.”

“Whatever. Go shower. I’ll find something for us to watch on Netflix.”

“Ugh, fine,” Jason said, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. “But it better not be one of those sad wildlife documentaries where the baby animals die.”

“That was one time!” she called back. “I didn’t know they were going to die!”

Still, as she settled into the couch, she googled the next episode of Planet Earth to make sure there’d be no surprises. All the while, a warmth spread through her chest because Jason was letting her keep him company. They might sometimes be the punching bags for the rest of the family, but it was nice to know that she had his back and he had hers. They could handle the others.

#jason todd #Stephanie Brown #batfamily #these two deserve better

[mdizonjr]

AVENGERS ENDGAME

You don't have to read all of this, feel free to read just one paragraph and respond only to it, each new paragraph is a different subject.

In the comics, Stark dies but keeps his character around via an AI he uploaded himself into. Anyone else want to think it's a little interesting that his "recording" hologram at his funeral was able to look directly into his daughters eyes and say "I love you three thousand"? There is no possible way in hell he would know where they would set up the hologram or where his daughter would be sitting. I think that was his AI and he will be back in this form in future movies. But other than that I loved this movie & the ending made my cry since Ironman was my favourite was perfectly written to send him off… loved the cheeseburger scene with tony starks daughter Morgan Sark.

Does it make sense to anyone else that when Loki picked up the tessaract, he would have ported directly back to Thano's ship that ultimately came through time into the prime timeline? I mean...he was dispatched to new york by thanos command, and eventually we saw he returned there in later films. Where else would he have gone but back to Thanos ship.

Thor's character was just bad in this movie. His quote about becoming what he's always wanted rather than being what he should be is incredibly worthless. He was ALWAYS wanting to be King, he was NEVER being pressured into it unwantingly. His weakened transformation was charming and comical but they needed to kick out jack sparrow halfway through and get the god of thunder back. We all assumed it would happen during his talk with his mom. We all know what we wanted. The writers didn't.

With Tony's speech about Cap not being there during his fight with thanos in infinity war, we should have seen the 3v1 Thor/IM/CA vs Thanos have thanos on the ropes to confirm Tony's criticism; it would have carried more weight to know that if Cap and Thor were there during the first fight, they would have prevented the first snap. The fight could easily be interrupted by others butting in, though, and carry on with the rest of the sequence.

I was hoping Hulk, being smarter now, since Bruce Banner & Hulk have been fused together to become Professor Hulk so I was hoping for a rematch with Thanos.

There was no lead up to Sam getting the shield. Unearned torch pass. I really wanted Cap to pass the torch to Bucky Barnes which he truly deserves in my opinion after what his been through  

The female team up I didn’t love it one bit because from my point of view it felt forced reminded me of modern politics.. Like, give me a break that all the women just show up in the same place on this war field,  And why is a human-with-a-spear thinking she can do anything to help defend captain marvel? Because Captain Marvel could’ve easily flew with the gauntlet by herself without that forced team up of the females plus it showed also Scarlett Witch didn’t need the other women she nearly destroyed thanos herself and this forced team up is where they should’ve put Hulk vs Thanos and let them duel it for a bit.

And to end this the humour was also forced in this movie don’t get me wrong it was great overall movie Rockets humour was great as always and was the only one that worked for me. I just hope going forward the MCU doesn’t involved time travel because it will literally mess up if not done right because it didn’t help the comics.

credit artwork: ULTRARAW26

#Avengers #endgame #avengersendgame #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #ironman #Captain America #thor #iloveyou3000

[ellawritesficssometimes]

Attracting Stupidity –  Spamano One-Shot

SUMMARY: Heartbroken and bitter over being left behind, Lovino resolutely works to finish his last year of high school, having previously flunked out. The problem is that while his aspirations remain positive, his reasons for doing so wrongly lie in proving a certain Spaniard wrong.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12948889/1/Attracting-Stupidity

Rated: T

Words: 17,800.

“Lovino?” Feliciano asked with trepidation, as if he were treading on eggshells. He approached me from behind, where I was sitting slumped on the front porch. It was a late August afternoon. As the temperature cooled and neighbors stirred from their 3 PM lethargy, I remained drained and cranky.

I swallowed heavily and closed my eyes so that all I saw was a warm orange – the sun was particularly bright and sunny today, even as it prepared to set. The dark humour in me would have laughed at this if I had the energy.

I didn’t respond in the hopes that Feliciano would read the atmosphere for once and leave me to my resigned misery. I wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone, let alone him.

“Lovino?” Feliciano repeated.

I bit my lip. “Not now, Feli. I’m busy,” I said sourly.

“Too busy to say goodbye to–?”

“–What part of ‘not now’ do you not understand?” I interrupted. Feliciano sighed.

I bit my lip this time. “…Just do me a favor and piss off somewhere else. I don’t need you to come in here and tell me to do what’s right. I’ve made my decision.”

Feliciano held onto the doorframe, rocking on his heels. Usually, my temper would have spooked him by now. I’ll give him credit where it was deserved. Gentle-natured and kind as he was, he had still inherited the stubbornness that characterized us Vargases.

“Then why are you watching him?” Feliciano countered. “If you really made the decision not to say goodbye, then you wouldn’t be out here at all.”

“Maybe I’m just enjoying the weather. Did you ever think of that?” I said, eyes still closed. I was coming close to pinching my nose.

Feliciano made a ticking sound, like a mother who knew that what they were hearing from their child was a lie. “I know you don’t like me butting into things–”

“–Damn right, I don’t!” I scoffed. I grumpily opened my eyes. It was too late to salvage any sense of peace at this point. We had gone back to the foray of volcanic eruptions that was my personal life.

“Lovino, that’s enough! I’m not leaving you alone this time. I’m tired of doing that. I’m tired of fighting over everything,” Feliciano raised his voice. I half turned around and was met with an unusually sharp expression. Feliciano’s lips were pressed into a thin line.

I briefly established eye contact with him but had to look away. It was unnerving to see his eyes narrowed at me like that. Yes, I was a disappointment in the family, but Feliciano had an annoying naive habit of maintaining faith and bringing out the best in people. To see him look at me with such scorn cut me down a lot more than I would have liked to admit.

I didn’t say anything again. Feliciano took this as his cue to continue. “It’s painful to see you like this, Lovi,” he said, his voice taking on a softer tone. “You should at least say goodbye. I said goodbye.”

“What does you saying goodbye have to do with anything?” I asked, bored and reluctant to hear what he had to say next. “Why does everything always have to be about you?”

“You didn’t let me finish, again. You’re putting words in my mouth and I don’t appreciate it,” Feliciano retorted, on the narrow cusp of getting impatient. “What I was going to say is that h­e asked about you.”

I love you Lovino, I always have.

I held my breath and strained not to show a physical reaction to this, even though it made a whole wave of emotions stir uncomfortably in my stomach. I suddenly felt nauseous. I hated it, but I was more compelled to listen now that he had mentioned him.

“You’re both too stubborn for your own good. You two may not have ended on a good note, but I think that you at least owe each other a goodbye. You’ll regret it if you don’t, especially after everything you’ve been through with him. There was more to your relationship than it being all bad you know,” Feliciano said pityingly, bringing a hand on my shoulder.

I was too numb to shrug away. “What you’re asking me to do is a lot harder than what you make it sound. He fucked me up real bad. I don’t want to relive it,” I shuddered.

“You won’t stop reliving it until you resolve things. That’s why I’m saying that you should say goodbye to him…to Antonio.” Wow. He had finally been so bold as to mention his name, a mix of both guts and nerve.

Just hearing the name Antonio made my knees weak. I strained to keep my voice firm and even, hiding the fact that my eyes were now watering. “I guess so,” I admitted. “Damn, Feli. You’re so irritating. I feel like I’m speaking to an old man. You’re 16, you’re not supposed to be this wise.”

Feliciano chuckled lightly and removed his hand from my shoulder. “And you’re 18. I shouldn’t have to lecture you and yet here I am.”

“Yep, you ruined the moment, you smug little bastard,” I cussed, making a shooing motion at him. “You said what you needed to. I’ll think about it, okay? Now leave me alone.”

“Well, that turned out better than I expected,” Feliciano remarked. “I think I may have actually gotten through to you,” he said as he began to close the front door. “We may not get along most of the time, but believe it or not, I hate seeing you like this. Please, “he paused, “please consider what I said.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I waved him off, dismissively. “Don’t you have packing to do too?”

It felt like everyone was leaving after this summer. Feliciano to art school for his last two years of high school, and him…elsewhere.

Feliciano smirked knowingly. “Yes, I still have lots to do. Oh, and good luck.”

My silence must have been enough for Feliciano as the door carefully swung shut behind me. I straightened my shoulders and looked up.

“’Good luck’, what an arrogant thing to say,” I muttered to myself. “’I hate seeing you like this’,” I mocked again. “What a load of processed shit. If you weren’t my brother I would have already bashed your face in.”

Several kids from the neighborhood passed by on bicycles and scooters, occupying the middle of the streets without a care in the world. It’s not like anyone living in Wynwood were expected to be role model parents anyway. Mothers hid away in their homes and let their kids roam free. Fathers worked all day and were almost never heard of for one-third of the families here. Instead, kids parented each other. The problem is that many of these kids grew up to be rotten.

An easy scapegoat for our fucked-up family lives would be the constant buzz and radiation of the hydroelectric plants nearby. Apparently, they made people angry and more erratic, not to mention cancerous later in life.

No one who stayed in this neighborhood ended up right. You either became a drug dealer or a nobody high school drop-out. I was bordering on the two. I suppose that’s why I was so bitter. I was stuck here. There was no way out for me because I didn’t have a work ethic like Feliciano. Feliciano’s stubborn, but he’s more resilient than I am. He worked to get out of here and everyone knew that he would be going somewhere, anywhere but here. And then there’s him, who’s also leaving…

“OI!” I shouted from the porch. “Get off the middle of the road! You’re going to get hit by a car!” To emphasize my point, I smacked my left fist against my right palm.

“Sorry, Lovino~!”

“You better be,” I growled. “You should know better too! Older bad kids go racing around this time of the day.” Several kids winced at my harsh tone. All I cared about was that my message was loud and clear.  

The sound of bells and training wheels soon faded away in the direction of the park. Rather than silence, there was still the faint buzzing of electricity. On instinct, I had almost convinced myself that a certain someone was humming across the street. Then I realized that their humming had stopped for months now. There was nothing to be happy about.

Antonio was leaving Wynwood too, and like a hopeless loser, I was silently watching him as he flitted about in his front driveway, packing boxes of his belongings into the back of his dad’s truck. He was especially klutzy and nervous today, likely because I had shown my face in open daylight after our ‘break-up’ in June, if you could even call it that.

Most of my summer had been spent avoiding him, wasting my days inside sleeping and going out at night at the park to relax and smoke a few joints with other kids our age.  He had come by to the house a few times, but I didn’t answer. Not after what he had done.

It had been so long since I had detached myself from him, and looking at him now reminded me how hideously attractive he was for a person as stupid as him. It had always been an inside joke that the strange curl sticking out from the side of my head had a gravitational pull for all things stupid and negative. Antonio had always liked that about me…my curl…pulling it even though he knew full well that it pissed me off.

You haven’t always loved me. If you did, you wouldn’t be doing this. You’re leaving me again, just like you always do.

Still, I needed to see him before he left. Watching him would have been a good enough goodbye if Feliciano hadn’t just pulled a Biblical moment of wisdom on me.

CRASH!

I jumped up in surprise when Bella, the paper girl, cycled past and threw a paper at the front door. She had thrown hard to get my attention and had stopped right by the edge of the curb in front of the driveway.

Reluctantly, I met her scolding jade eyes. All she had to do was point at Antonio, whose head was thankfully turned away, for me to understand what she wanted me to do.

I raised my hands in surrender. “All right, all right, I’ll talk to him,” I mouthed. It was best not to piss her off. She becomes scary when she’s angry.

Bella nodded with a sense of importance, but not before giving me a back-and-forth ‘I’m watching you’ hand gesture. She peddled off, slower than she needed to, and only really left until I had stood up.

WHOOSH!

My eyebrows furrowed with disdain as I whipped my head back to spot Feliciano and Grandpa spying on me through the living room window. There weren’t quite fast enough.

Sheepishly, Grandpa waved me forward, as if to say ‘go on’. Feliciano smiled nervously.

I rolled my eyes and opened the front door. “You’re lucky you’re on disability, you nosy old fart,” I called out. “You too Feliciano. Mind your own business.”

“We’re just making sure that things turn out alright, Lovi,” Feliciano said, no doubt pouting.

“I can take care of myself,” I snapped. “God, are you two ever overbearing.”

I didn’t give them a chance to respond as I had already slammed the front door. The only positive out of this was that I was now charged enough to confront, I mean, say something, to Antonio. I inhaled, raked a hand through my hair, tousled it a little, and then stomped across the street in my sandals. I know, I know, intimidating, right?

Upon reaching his driveway, I slowed and waited for him to look up. Antonio was bent over the front seat of his dad’s truck, butt hanging out. He appeared to be searching for something.

“Ahem,” I cleared my throat.

“Ack!” Antonio spluttered and flew up, only to whack his head against the ceiling of the truck. “Ay, ay ay,” he whimpered in pain as he straightened, grabbing at the back of his head with his right hand. When his green eyes locked with mine, his cheeks reddened. His lips moved but nothing came out.

I probably looked the same. My eyes felt like they were going to fall out with the way that they were bulging. Antonio had tanned considerably since I had last seen him. Droplets of sweat dripped down his neck and stained the front of the red muscle shirt he was wearing. His brown curls fell at his shoulders, also damp, and still as messy and unbrushed. He’d always been lean, being an athlete, but I couldn’t help but notice that he had gotten thinner.

“…Hey,” I said, near incoherently. My lips were pretty much glued together and my tongue refused to remain any semblance of coordination.

“Lovino,” Antonio murmured, rough with emotion.

“Can I…um?” I gestured with my hand.

“Yes, yes, of course!” Antonio waved me onto the driveway. I pretended not to notice that he had accidentally slammed his hand against the truck.

Carefully, I took a step onto the driveway. Hurt flickered in his eyes. I had pretty much lived at his house for the past eighteen years. To ask for permission now cemented my status as an outsider.

We stared at each other for a minute, unsure of what to say. We were only a few feet away and yet I couldn’t bring myself to close the distance. The awkwardness became too much to handle, so I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“You’re leaving,” I pointed out, hollowly.

“Yeah,” Antonio answered robotically. “I am.”

I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Do you want to, maybe, go for a walk?” I proposed.

“Yeah,” Antonio answered again, breathless. “Just give me a minute, okay?”  He hadn’t recovered from the shock of me coming here. It hurt, but I could tell that he had been expecting to leave without me saying goodbye. That was another thing about him that we fought about a lot; he didn’t hold a lot of faith in me. Meanwhile, I held all my faith in him. It was more than unfair. It was cruel.

Antonio pulled out a set of keys from the pocket of his jeans shorts and locked the truck after shutting the driver’s door. He had been walking around the driveway without any shoes or socks – another habit that used to drive me crazy. Despite how neutral I tried to remain, the annoyance on my face must have been as plain as day.

Antonio wordlessly went into the house to grab a pair of flip-flops before meeting me at the edge of the driveway.

“Where to?” he asked.

I didn’t establish eye contact, looking ahead instead. “I was thinking about the bus stop.”

“Sounds good.”

Bile rose in my throat. I hated being so stiff and formal with him. It was sickening.

Silently, we headed for the bus stop. I felt Antonio’s longing eyes on me the whole time, which irritated me. He had no right to stare like that, not after how disposedly he had treated me. I settled for staring at his arms, fixated on the wristwatch he wore. I hadn’t yet worked up the courage to say anything.

When we reached the bus stop at the end of the street, I immediately went for our spot. Right by the street sign that read Wynwood, there was a large granite stone that children often climbed up to sit on as they waited for the bus. It was surrounded by a bush, which had made it the perfect hiding spot/ place to talk.

Antonio hesitantly stood beside the rock, like a squirrel who had second feelings about crossing the road. I had nearly forgotten that he was several inches taller than me. He seemed even larger now that I was terrified of him and what he had to say.

I sighed. “Sit,” I ordered. It was about time that one of us grew a damn pair.

Wordlessly, Antonio hopped up on the rock and settled next to me. I inhaled and stared across the road at the park. Memories of us throwing pinecones at passing cars and then hiding in the bushes as our angry targets circled the block several times to find us delinquents crossed my mind. It almost caused me to smirk, almost.

“So, you’re really leaving, huh?” I asked.

Antonio tensed up beside me. “You could be leaving too,” he said blankly.

“Antonio,” I inhaled sharply. The conversation had already gone downhill. Thirty seconds hadn’t even passed.

“No, Lovino,” Antonio turned to look at me. I didn’t reciprocate. “This time you’re going to listen to me instead of cutting me off every time I say something that you don’t like. You could be going to university now too, but instead you chose to flunk out. I may have done many wrong things to you, but this is one thing that I’m not going to stand down and take. You’re here because you chose to be. You didn’t care about your grades. You were too busy smoking dope and ditching class.”

“That was a cheap shot and you know it, Toni!” I raised my voice. Without thinking, I flashed my gaze onto Antonio. Both of our eyes were burning. I balled my fists and resisted the urge to wipe off the arrogant sternness on his face. He wasn’t being fair, again.

Antonio stared at me. There was no kindness in his expression, only hardness and disappointment.

My throat throbbed with a newly-formed lump. “What do you want me to say? That I was a hopeless self-loathing loser who hated living in his brother’s shadow? Because if so, then you’d be right. But I’m not like that anymore. I’ve told you that already! I’m tired of feeling sorry for myself. If you would have bothered to check in with me you would have known that I’ve signed up for school in September. I’m redoing my senior year.”

“That’s great, Lovino, but I know for a fact that you haven’t quit smoking pot and Feliciano tells me that you still steal from them to fund your habits. And what about Alfred? You’re still hanging out with that jackass. He’s not a good influence on you, and I don’t like him,” Antonio retorted. “You’re not reliable; I don’t believe you. All you do is rely on others to fulfill your own selfish gain.”

“Screw you!” I spat. “You have a lot of nerve coming here to lecture me after everything that you did. All you do is criticize me. Why does me smoking matter so much anyway?! Oh, and just so you know, I haven’t stolen from them since June. We sat down and had a talk, and I’ve agreed to pay them back with all the money I’ve made this summer by helping Bella’s brother.”

“Helping Bella’s brother by what, dealing?” Antonio said disbelievingly. “Honestly, do you even listen to yourself? There’s nothing wrong with smoking occasionally. The problem with you is that you have no self-control. It became the center of your life. You didn’t attend classes and were always asking for money. The only thing that mattered to you was getting high and blowing off those who cared about you. You were living in your own world, and I got sick of it.”

“You’ve got some damn nerve, I’ll give you that. No matter what I do, you find something to pull on me and make me feel shitty about myself. Alfred’s been there for me when you weren’t. I don’t smoke as much as I used to either. But why would you care? I’m never good enough for you.”

“That’s not true, Lovino.”

“Don’t you take words from my mouth! I know I’m not the cookie-cutter person that you want me to be, but I was always loyal to you. You say that I live in my own world? Who was there for you when you got injured, huh? Who was there when you felt like there was no reason to live? I helped you get back on your feet.”

Antonio wavered. “That you did, and I’m very grateful for it.”

I blinked, taking a moment to recollect myself. That was a cheap shot on my part. Two years ago, Antonio had been actively scouted by professional football leagues in Europe. After he had broken his ankle, he didn’t play the same and was forced to retire. He had taken a year off to recover and work through his depression over it. I had been right there by his side for the whole time.

“Look,” Antonio began again. “I don’t want to fight with you. I can’t anymore. Do you realize how difficult it was to love someone who you can’t trust? I told you that I didn’t like where you were heading. I told you that the losers you hang around were going to cause you to flunk out. You didn’t listen. You all share the same mentality: angry and bitter without ever putting in the work to change your circumstances.”

I scoffed. “You know full well that I treated you differently than the others. I loved you too. That’s why I promised to change. You weren’t patient enough. I tried to quit smoking, but it’s hard. I’m anxious all the time, okay?”

“That still doesn’t excuse stealing from your family. Take some responsibility for your actions for once,” Antonio replied without a beat.

“You’re just embarrassed by me,” I accused, defensively. I wasn’t really helping myself at this point.

“I’m not. I’m just disappointed. You’re more than capable of getting good grades, Lovino. I’ve seen you when you’re passionate about something. So maybe you were serious about me. But what about yourself? Life? School? Did you expect me to wait for you forever? To have unlimited patience? How could I take you seriously when you weren’t serious about yourself? You lack passion, and you don’t apply yourself.”

I saw red. “Didn’t I just say that I’m going to school?”

“You’ve said a lot of things in the past. You’re good at telling people what they want to hear,” Antonio’s stated coldly.

“Like what?”

“That you would quit smoking and stop hanging out with Alfred.”

“And we’re back to that again!” I exploded. “Why does it matter that I hang out with him? Are you jealous or something?”

Antonio’s nostrils flared. I had picked up on something. Knowing him, though, he would be too stubborn to admit it. “No. You’re better than this and it’s just frustrating that you can’t see that. That’s why I had to let you go. It was too much.”

“Fine, I see your point,” I said, feeling my face warm. “Can I say mine now?”

“By all means,” Antonio waved his hand. Perhaps it was because I was mad, but it came off as smug. I was being infantilized by him, again.

“I’m disappointed in you too, and it’s not just because you abandoned me.”

“I didn’t abandon you,” Antonio protested.

“You did, now shut up and let me speak. You’ve had your say.” I waited until I was sure that Antonio wasn’t going to interrupt me. I could tell that he was fuming on the inside. Many buttons had already been pushed.

“You’re a hypocrite and sell-out, Toni. You come here and spout garbage about me having no passion in life? What about you? You can’t honestly tell me that you’re passionate about teaching…teaching!...

…I looked up to you. You were one of the few people in this godforsaken area that remained happy and hopeful about life no matter what. The accident changed you; there’s no spark, nothing. I’m not the only one who’s lost passion. At least I’m real and honest with myself about it. I don’t pretend that I’m perfect either.”

“What else was I supposed to do?” Antonio snarled, slamming his hand against the stone. I flinched. “I had to do something with my life. I wasn’t just going to sit on my ass and mope around. I’m trying to forge a new path for myself. I don’t want to be stuck in this…this dump forever.”

“Figures why you dumped me too,” I muttered bitterly.

“I didn’t dump you out of the blue. You had that coming to you for a long time. There was only so much that I could do to help. You were letting go of yourself. I’m not going to be held hostage by you anymore. I’ve earned my leave.”

Each accusation squeezed at my chest.

“No. You’re just like me. You’re impatient. I helped you, and you couldn’t even return the favor. I was trying to get on the right track but you breaking things off threw me the fuck off. Now…now you’re leaving again.”

“Maybe I am impatient. Maybe I have done many wrong things to you. But I’m not the only one to blame. You’re still not taking any responsibility,” Antonio harshly interceded, repeating himself like a broken record.

“You kept promising, Lovino,” he stopped to correct himself, softening his tone. “Lovi. We talked about this, about us going to uni together once I recovered. What ever happened to that?”

“I couldn’t handle seeing you so depressed,” I admitted. “It was hard to see you lose everything, your passion in life, only to commit yourself to something that you weren’t passionate about. It broke me, and I needed to get rid of the stress. I guess this isn’t a good excuse, but it’s all I have to offer. Take it or leave it. It just sucks because I thought you were passionate about me. I couldn’t have been any more wrong.”

“I am passionate about you! Don’t say such things!” Antonio said, exasperated. He looked like he had aged ten years during the span of this conversation.

“No, you’re not. If you were, you wouldn’t have given up on me. I would have been able to handle you leaving for uni. We would have worked something out. I would have worked harder. Heck, I was more than willing to work harder. You were the one who gave up because you were too busy focusing on yourself. Change isn’t a one-shot thing. You didn’t give me the benefit of the doubt. You…you didn’t trust me.”

“That’s not true!” Antonio echoed.

“It is and you know it! Keep justifying what you did so you can look good in front of others, but you won’t ever look good in my opinion. I won’t let you have that. Leave and start a new life for all I care. You’re too good for us now, too self-absorbed.”

“Lovino, that’s enough.”

I wasn’t going to stop now.

“You say that I’m good at telling people what they want to hear? How about I change things up a bit and do the reverse? You and your fancy scholarship and your phony ass smile can go to hell. You’re not the same person I once loved. There’s nothing authentic about you anymore. In fact, the only thing that you can’t fake is your stupidity. Fuck, I’ve never seen someone so disconnected from reality. Why don’t you step into someone else’s shoes for once?”

Antonio’s mouth parted. “I didn’t know that you felt that way. Or that you smoked more because of me. I told you…what I’m doing now…I’m making a life for myself.”

“And if it’s good, I won’t be in it,” I countered.

“THAT’S NOT TRUE!” Antonio bellowed. “God, you know that’s not true. There’s nothing more that I want than for you to graduate high school and make something out of yourself. I know you can. Did you ever consider that you’ve been selfish too? You stole from your own family and have lied to them AND me several times. You’re not the innocent martyr that you play yourself out to be. You expect everything to be done for you for nothing in return.”

“When did I ever say I was a martyr? You never listen to me. I’ve owned up to most of my mistakes and I’m working on them. I’m cleaning up come the beginning of the school year, for real this time. I know I can do better too.”

“I want to believe that, I do,” Antonio said, contemplating heavily over his next words. “If that’s the case, then I wish you the best of luck.” There was no heart in what he was saying. It felt too scripted.

I rubbed at my eyes. Of all times, now I had to cry. “Fuck,” I swallowed. “You’re so stupid. I had been telling you this all along. Our fight would have never happened if you hadn’t been so oblivious.”

“I’m sorry. I know I played a part in it, but I can’t wholeheartedly agree. You say that you want to change, but you haven’t really. You’ve always blamed me. I’m not going to be your scapegoat and punching bag anymore. You need to understand that.”

“Well, I don’t want to. Everything that comes out of your mouth is fake.”

“I’m not fake!” Antonio objected. I had pushed another button and wasted no time in latching onto it.

“Yes, you are. Sometimes I wonder if any of what we shared was ever real.”

“Of course, it was real! I love you, Lovino. I always have!”

Tears poured down my face. “You don’t. Stop lying to me. I don’t know why I came here expecting anything. It was a waste of time. You’re a fucking emotionless automaton. I can’t tell you anything.”

“We’re not children. Grow up already,” Antonio fumed. “You always blow things out of proportion.”

I didn’t respond. It took his blockhead a solid minute before he realized that I was crying.

“Lovino,” Antonio chided. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

He moved to place an arm around my shoulder but I shrugged away as if I had just been jolted with a current of electricity. “Don’t call me sweetheart. You’ve lost that privilege. Only Antonio can call me that, and you’re not him.”

Stung, Antonio retracted his arm. “I’m still me. If you can’t see that you’re part of the problem then that’s not my problem. I’m sorry but it’s true.” He reached into his shorts to hand me a tissue. I grabbed it with more force than necessary.

“Bullshit. You’re lying through your teeth like some self-important prick. It’s a shame that all that passion went away. I was rooting for you but you turned out just like everyone else. Keh, what a phony,” I sniffled, dabbing at my cheeks. The tears had stopped but things were far from over.

“You’re the one who’s lying,” Antonio blurted out. “I still have passion for you.”

Wide-eyed, I looked up to reach his eyes. Briefly, I saw a flicker of the boy I had once loved, the boy who I would have killed for.

“You don’t.”

“I do,” Antonio’s eyes flared as he bent down to press his lips against mine. Whirring, I pulled back but was quickly overwhelmed. I grabbed onto the rock for balance as Antonio held the back of my head, one fist tightly knotted in my hair. He had always admired it for its auburn color, especially when it became streaked with red underneath the sun.

His tongue presumptuously poked into my mouth as I gasped for breath.

“Who lacks passion now?” Antonio growled.

“Nnnn…” I croaked, fingers trembling. Memories of our entire relationship flashed before me, from scar-kneed adventurous toddlers, to lanky pre-teens, to now where it remained unclear and foggy if we would ever resolve our conflicted feelings for each other. How many times had we made-out in this same place?

Strange, isn’t it? How nothing about this felt familiar when it should have. It felt wrong.

“NO!” I refused and brusquely pushed Antonio away.

In shame, Antonio put some more distance between us and looked at his feet. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I shouldn’t have done that. If I would have known–”

“–Don’t be sorry,” I said and hopped off the rock. “You just made things crystal clear for me. I was always just someone for you to fuck around with. Nothing about that kiss felt authentic. You don’t love me anymore.”

Antonio didn’t raise his head. “I can see now that nothing I say will get through to you. Think what you want about me.”

“Phony bastard.”

Angrily, I stormed off.

Antonio didn’t chase after me.

He had said it himself. I wasn’t his problem to deal with anymore.

…

One week later…

…

“Lovino?” Grandpa knocked on my door, poking his head into the bedroom. “Antonio’s at the door for you. Should I say that you’re not here?”

I flopped onto my back, resigned in a prostrated position on the bed. “Nah, tell him the truth. I don’t want to see him.”

Grandpa sighed, brows furrowed. He was like an older version of me, except old, more handsome, more muscular, and with unnecessary gray stubble on his face. He wouldn’t shave it off no matter what I told him. Apparently, he had a ‘lady friend’ across that street that he wanted to impress.

“What happened to your foot?” Grandpa asked, amber eyes resting to the bandage over the big toe on my left foot.

“I tripped over Feli’s luggage. He left it right in front of my door. Idi…ah, never mind.”

Grandpa lifted his stern expression. “I see. I’ll tell him to clear his things. So, are you sure? About Antonio I mean?”

“Yep. Get rid of him,” I answered matter-of-factly. I was done crying over someone who didn’t feel the same way, someone who didn’t accept me for my faults. None of my improvements mattered to him. I wasn’t the delinquent I used to be a few months ago.

“Okay, done. Dinner will be ready in an hour. And no, you’re not going to eat up in your room again. This is one of the last chances we’ll get to eat as a family until Christmas,” Grandpa lectured. That’s right. Antonio left next week, and Feliciano in three days.

“Mhmmm,” I said, peeling at a loose piece of skin on my finger.

“Lovino, I know you’ve never picked up a book in your life, but you can appropriate a better response than that.”

“Sorry, I’m not Feliciano,” I huffed. “I don’t read as a hobby. I go out and have a life. Big whoop.”

Resigned, Grandpa left.

“For fuck’s sake! Is it really so hard to close the door after you open it?!”

“Mhmmm,” Grandpa trilled smugly.

I opened my mouth in retort, but quickly closed it when I realized that Antonio would have been able to hear me. Shamelessly, I scuttled over to the bedroom window and rested my head at the far corner. My bedroom was located just above the front porch, so I would be able to eavesdrop without any problem…that is if my phone hadn’t begun to ring.

Alfred was calling me. Hissing, I put it on silent.

The conversation must have ended quickly because, by the time I looked outside again, Antonio was already walking over to his house.

My phone rang again, this time with a text. Unsurprisingly, it was from Antonio.

“I know it may seem like I don’t love you but I do. You have to understand that I’m doing what’s best for me… I had hoped that breaking up with you would have given you the wake-up call you needed. Maybe it’s best that things ended this way. It’s not too late for you to start fresh, Lovi. I sincerely hope that you’re going to do what you said this time.”

“THAT BASTARD!” I screamed. Obviously, screaming loud enough for the entire neighborhood wasn’t enough for me. I stalked over to the window, made sure that Antonio had turned around, and promptly shut the curtains on his shitstain face. Unsatisfied, I then re-opened the curtains, slammed the window, yelped when I slammed it on my fingers, and then re-slammed the window.

Out of breath, I slumped against the nearest wall.

I stood there for what had felt like hours, too anxious and drained to move.

BRING!

My phone lit up with a new text. It was from Alfred, asking if I wanted to meet up with them. Without any conscious thought, I typed yes and hit reply.

I waited until I was sure that Feliciano and Grandpa were busy moving stuff into the garage before I snuck out through Feliciano’s bedroom window and into the backyard.

…

I found Alfred and Heracles lurking like imperious alley cats near the dumpsters behind their apartment building. They had both been kicked out of their houses for a few years now and looked the part with their scraggly, scuffed up appearances.

I wasn’t surprised that Alfred was wearing a muscle shirt, showing off the fake muscles he had gained from taking steroids, nor was I disappointed to realize that Heracles had already smoked most of the weed.

“Lovino, my dude!” Alfred guffawed. “You look like shit. What the fuck happened to you?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I muttered.

“Well hell, is it really that bad? How about this then? I know these two chics that we could hook up with. Really easy, ya know? Not super hot or anything, but totally fuckable if you’re hammered enough.”

“I’m not interested,” I waved Alfred off.

“Fine man. Was just tryin’ to help,” Alfred simpered.

“Here,” Heracles offered me his bong. “Take a hit. You could use it.”

“Thanks,” I grumbled. Everything about this was disgusting and wrong, myself included. Grandpa and Feliciano were probably just coming up to my room now. I could already imagine the disappointed looks on their face.

I don’t like being here. This isn’t who I am.

Maybe Antonio was right…? Antonio kissing me hadn’t felt right, but being here didn’t make me feel right either.

After religiously recounting everything he had had to say this past week, I could see why he didn’t want me hanging out with people like this. The last thing I wanted was to end up like them in three years, living on welfare and having zero respect for anyone – especially women– who didn’t worship the ground at their feet.

I was going to have to change.

I’ll show that bastard. I was going to step up my game, for real this time.

I took another hit.

Once summer was over, that is.

…

Two weeks.

It had been two weeks since the school year had started. I was determined to prove Antonio wrong and had attended all my classes. Although, this didn’t come without any bumps in the road.

I had quit dealing for Lars, Bella’s brother, but had yet to quit smoking. So far, I had begun to wean myself off from it by letting Grandpa handle and control how much I had. He would allot a certain amount every day, and would slowly reduce how much I smoked.

While he didn’t want me smoking at all, Grandpa understood that the end goal of me being off pot for good was beneficial in the long run. The man had a lot of patience, especially after all the bullshit I’ve put him through.

Me quitting was a project that we would work on together. It helped that Feliciano was gone too. I loved him, I really did, but I had always felt short and inadequate in his presence. Without him, I felt freer to go at my own pace and to not be so hard on myself if I had a mishap or two.

What I was doing was all tentative anyway. Still, I was stubborn as a motherfucker and would see this through, even if it killed me from the exhaustion and boredom of committing myself to receiving that single piece of paper. I would graduate from high school, damn it.

BRING! My phone buzzed with a new text.

Without hesitation, as I knew that if I looked I would be tempted, I threw my phone onto the bed. It was pointless because I already who it was. I wanted nothing to do with Heracles or Alfred anymore. On another note, I really did need to find a new hobby that would help blow off some steam, or, at the very least, distract me.

It was days like this where I felt even more anxious than usual. The old me would have smoked non-stop. Unfortunately, I had already used up all that I could smoke today and didn’t want to ask Grandpa for more. Progress reports had just been distributed, and I couldn’t have been anymore nervous. No, I felt nauseous. I had given the envelope to Grandpa without bothering to open it.

After years of hardly showing up to school, everyone’s stares and whispers had caused me to lose my cool several times. Combine that with the crankiness over needing a smoke, and you can see my dilemma.

Progress reports weren’t tangible grades or anything. Instead, they involved the teacher commenting on how you were doing in the class, such as how your participation, your initiative, your engagement, and how well you got along with others. Eager, question-asking nerds would receive excellents, average students would receive goods, sub-par dim-headed students who had no clue what was going on but were well-behaved would receive satisfactories, and students like me, who talked back and never did their homework would receive need improvements.

Just thinking about it made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. To compensate, I popped two pieces of gum into my mouth – another habit I had adopted to help quit smoking –and decided to watch a video or two to help ease my mind. Grandpa would be coming up soon with the results.

With a loud plop, I sat at my desk and opened my laptop, both of which had been hand-me-downs from Feliciano. You would think it would be the opposite with me being the older sibling, but Feliciano had gotten a new set of everything as a congratulations for getting accepted into art school.

Mindlessly, I opened Facebook and began scrolling through the feed, fingers tapping against the wooden surface of the desk in impatient and uncomfortable agitation. One thing caught my eye, although I wish it hadn’t.

I had been avoiding looking at the Frosh Week photos Antonio posted, but this one stuck out like a scalding red target.

He was at a party, tanned cheeks pink and flushed from booze with his arms casually slung around two girls wearing bikinis. All three held up the pearl necklaces around their necks as if they were some sort of prize.

Hurt, I closed the laptop.

Why hadn’t he ever smiled that big for me?

I reopened the laptop and inhaled sharply, willing myself not to lose my temper.

“Don’t think negatively,” I told myself in a murmur. The words filtered out of my mouth numbly, perhaps even a bit robotically. “It’s not going to help. Focus on what you want. You’ll prove him wrong. He’s not worth it.”

Two seconds passed.

“FUCK!” Angrily, I stood up and grabbed the nearest thing to me, a pencil case, and threw it against the wall.

How dare he. Did what we shared together mean nothing to him? How could he? How could he move on so fast? How he could he live and be happy after everything that had happened? I was right. How vain. How cruel…how…how emotionless.

“You selfish bastard,” I hissed, clenching and unclenching my fists.

“I hate him! I hate him! I hate him! I hate him!” I whispered in an angry mantra, only to reseat myself and glance at the photo again.

“You fucking phony!” I screamed at the photo. At least now, phony photo Antonio couldn’t retaliate or argue back with me. I could say whatever I wanted.

I was just surprised that Grandpa hadn’t come up yet.

“You liar! You…you cheater! I…I...”

I’m tired of this.

Resigned, I closed my mouth and looked to the side of the screen. When that didn’t help, I refreshed the page.

An unwanted advertisement popped up.

“The fuck, is the government spying on me or something?” I whispered. Right there on the front page was a video about the Law of Attraction and Attaining Success. And here I thought Alfred was a psycho for believing in conspiracy theories. The lunatic even went so far as to place a piece of tape over his webcam, as he was convinced that all technological devices were used to spy on and listen to people’s conversations.

Agh! Enough about Alfred! Thinking about him wouldn’t help either.

Perhaps it was fate or a mere coincidence, but I needed to be distracted by something, anything, so I clicked on the video.

A tall man with spiky blond hair, startling blue eyes, and a cocksure, crooked smile appeared on a podium, speaking into a microphone. He walked with a noticeable prowl to his step, acting as if he owned the stage at his feet. It looked to be a lecture of some sorts.

“Welcome, all. The name’s Matthias Kohler. Most of you know me as the CEO of_____. I’m ______ years old and have just recently ______. I worked hard to get where I am and let me tell you am I ever glad that I make ______.”

Irritated, I tuned out most of what the guy had to say. I wasn’t interested in his life story. What I wanted to know was how he got to where he was. I could have used some inspiration, even from a jerk like him.

“…People ask me this all the time: ‘Matthias, how did you get to this point in your life? What motivated you to get off your lazy arse and work? You see, I used to be unmotivated. I procrastinated like you wouldn’t believe and expected everything to be handed to me. I lived in a world of entitlement. But then, as I grew older, being a useless 30-something living in their parents’ basement wasn’t satisfying. I felt empty and wanted to do something, to make a life for myself.

“The only obstacle was that I was terrified of failure. It was all I thought about. I told my therapist this and you know what the wise old geezer said? Well, for one thing, he told me to stop using so much hairspray. In his opinion, I was one spray away from causing the icecaps to melt … that was a joke, you can all laugh,” Matthias chuckled, his large smile faltering slightly when he didn’t provoke the response he wanted.

Matthias whistled, rocking on the balls of his feet. “Whoo! Tough crowd, tough crowd, eh?”

I stared blankly at the screen.

“Anyways, as I was saying,” Matthias continued. “My therapist, Berwald, or Bear as I called him because he looked like one, told me to restructure my thinking. Being negative gets you nowhere in life. If you think negatively, you attract negative things in your life! Simple, right!?”

“Wrong. I called Berwald a loon and was banned from seeing him for two weeks. I was quite stubborn then and had a large chip on my shoulder. Still, I secretly heard Bear out and listened to what he said. He told me to think about what I wanted in life, even if I didn’t have it. So, I did. I figured that it couldn’t hurt to dream. And slow as it was, it worked.

“Every night for six months, I told myself, Matthias, you’re going to find a job, then a partner, and in two years’ time you’ll be able to move out on your own and sustain yourself. Surely enough, six months later, I met Lukas, my husband, or owner as I like to call him…that was another joke. Geez! Loosen up a little, you guys. Heck, I’m smiling and I just had Botox!”

The crowd laughed in pity. Matthias gratefully accepted this, allowing the reaction to channel more vigor into his story-telling. He cracked an even larger smile.

“After moving out with Lu, I started setting bigger goals. I wanted to own a business, a house, and a car. We lived in a ratty apartment at the time. Even if it didn’t work out, it was still nice to imagine. Positive thoughts = positive outcomes, that’s the motto that I ran by.

“Again, surely enough, after working hard and dreaming for five years, my positive outcome was reached. I own one of the most successful toy companies in the world, I own a mansion just large enough to house my own ego, and I own not one, but three cars! Berwald, that emotionless bastard, was right! He helped propel me forward in life. I owe everything to him…”

The video drowned out. I had heard everything that I needed to hear.

“Huh,” I huffed. “Emotionless bastard, all right,” I said and clicked off the video. I wasn’t speaking about Berwald.

“Huh,” I repeated. I hadn’t expected the video to move me the way that it did. Regardless of the fact that it was probably fake, I wanted something new to latch onto.

“Positive thoughts = positive outcomes,” I whispered to myself, ruminating over the concept.

It couldn’t hurt to dream.

“Why not?”

I reached over the desk to grab the hairband Bella had given to me. It had been a long time since I had last cut my hair and it was getting to the point of being shaggy. I needed something to keep the bangs out of my face as I studied.

Calmly, I pulled out the agenda I had bought for the year and opened it to the first page. I was still a work in progress, remember?

There, I wrote down some goals of my own that I wanted to achieve.

- Stick it to Antonio and prove him wrong – Spite and smite the bastard until he comes back begging for you.

- Graduate high school.

- Quit smoking

- Get along better with Grandpa and Feliciano.

“What are you doing, Toma?” Grandpa knocked on the bedroom door. Toma was a nickname I had received when I was younger. Apparently, I loved tomatoes so much that I would eat them until I got sick and my stomach bloated to three times its size. I still loved and consumed tomatoes en masse, by the way.

I jumped and turned in my seat. “Just…uh…I got an agenda.”

Grandpa smirked. “I know. We bought that for you last week. I’m glad to see you using it.”

“You look nervous,” he observed. My eyes were focused only on the folded bundles of papers he held in his hand.

“Of course I am!” I snapped. “Well, get it over with already. Tell me how much I suck at life.”

Grandpa entered the room and sat on the edge of my bed. Skittishly, I fidgeted in my seat before settling for staring at a bolt in the corner of the desk.

“Now, Lovino,” Grandpa started.

“Oh fuck, here we go,” I wailed.

“I’m very disappointed..”

“…”

“…that you didn’t have more confidence in yourself! Congratulations!” Grandpa beamed. “You got three goods and one satisfactory!”

I paled. “You old fart, I swear to God if you’re lying to me right now I’m going to–”

“Oh, give me that!” I said and snatched the paper. I didn’t believe what I was seeing. What he had said was true.

“F-fuck,” I stammered. Grandpa gently took the progress report, cradling it to his chest as if it were a newborn.

“As I was saying,” he cleared his throat. “You’ve improved considerably and I’m very proud of you. From what I read, they say that you attend your classes and even participate from time-to-time. That’s what I want to hear. The only thing that I’d like you to work on is that one of your teachers isn’t happy with your attitude. I thought we discussed that you wouldn’t talk back anymore.”

“Grandpa. If you dealt with that woman, you’d talk back too. She drives me nuts and is nuts.”

“Is she single?”

“Grandpa!” I shuddered. “No! I know your standards are low and you’re an old fuck who’s lived past his glory days but this really toes the line! Mrs. Isaac is a she-demon. Trust me, you’d want nothing to do with her. I still have hearing damage from her last screeching lecture…okay, okay!” I interceded. “I’ll try my best to behave myself but no promises.”

Grandpa laughed. He had never been fazed by my insults. “Good, I’m glad. No promises on my end either,” he winked.

“GRANDPA!”

“All right, all right,” Grandpa pouted. “I get lonely sometimes.”

“Yeah, that’s why every girl within a ten-mile radius avoids you. You reek of desperation.”

“Enough,” Grandpa said, attempting to be stern but failing miserably. “I’ll have you know that I could get any girl if I wanted to.”

“Sure you can,” I smirked, patronizingly.

“Hmmmph!”

“So,” Grandpa pursed his lips. “Since you’ve been so good for the last little while, I wouldn’t mind giving you a little extra something…” he trailed off.

I understood exactly what he was getting at. “No, fuck no. I’m not smoking anymore today.” All the excitement had done a well enough job at getting rid of my anxiety.

Grandpa smiled again, wider. It was enough to make me smile. “Look at you,” he crooned and reached over to pat my head. Angrily and smile already gone, I swatted at him. If I was a cat, my shackles would have been raised.

“So, have you given any thought as to what you want to do after high school?” he asked me.

“I haven’t even graduated high school yet?”

“Yes, but aren’t you going to apply to college or university? Applications begin in the winter, no?”

“You…really think I’m capable of doing that?”

“Of course I do, Toma. You’re stubborn, but if you’re really committed to something, you don’t give up. You get that from me. I was just like you when I was your age. Ah~! What a different time it was then. I had all the girls and good food I wanted at the snap of a finger.”

“You were also a drug dealer,” I pointed out.

“That I was. That’s why I want to help. I didn’t want to tell you this until I knew that you were ready, but there’s a college fund waiting for you too.”

Stunned, I blinked. Five years ago, he got gotten into a construction accident that had permanently messed up his back. Since then we had been living off his disability paychecks.

“Wha…” I gaped. “We’re always struggling to pay the bills, you jackass! We could have really used that money. Wait, have you paid hydro this month?”

“No,” Grandpa said firmly. “It’s for you.”

I fell silent.

“You’d make a good teacher, you know that?” Grandpa said after a couple minutes had passed.

“Huh?”

“You heard me, I’ve seen you with the neighborhood kids. They really like you.”

“I’m just looking out for them,” I replied. “I’m probably not the best role model anyway.”

“But you are,” Grandpa argued. “You don’t have to play football with them, but you do. You didn’t have to give them your old clothes, but you did. You’re in your element with kids. It’s something I’ve noticed for a long time now. Even when you were in your worst phase, you were always so calm and patient with them. You’re a good kid, Lovino, even though you haven’t made the best decisions in the past.”

“I know,” I said, head bowed. “I’ve said this a million times before, but I’m sorry for lying and always stealing from you. You had a lot on your plate, and it was really shitty of me to do.”

“Don’t apologize. Just continue with what you’re doing. That’s all I ask.”

I blushed.

Grandpa stood up from the bed. “Well, I’ll leave you be. It looks like you’ve got a big year with all the studying you have to do. Do try to consider what I said. You really would make a wonderful teacher.”

I stuck a finger in front of my mouth and pretended to gag. “Error. Error. Lovino has short-circuited from too much praise. He needs a good hour and a decent meal before he’s able to function properly.”

Grandpa shook his head at me and laughed. “Dinner will be ready soon.”

I nodded. “I’ll…join you.”

“I’d really like that.”

When Grandpa left, I opened my agenda and wrote down another set of goals:

- Think more positively.

- Become a teacher (?)

Who knows. The fact that I wasn’t opposed to the idea of becoming a teacher, especially because Antonio also aspired to be one, must have meant something.

I just didn’t know what at the time.

“Yeah, my anger really is a problem. I’ll also have to work on that,” I said and scribbled down said goal.

…

Three months later

…

“Lovino!” Feliciano scolded, smacking at my hand as I made a grab for another sugar cookie from a tin on the kitchen counter. “You know those are Grandpa’s favourite!”  

“All the more reason to eat them!” I smirked and proceeded to plop three more sugar cookies, slowly, into my mouth. With Feliciano back home again for the holidays, I was banned from teasing Grandpa so much. Little did he know that we shared a great relationship now, even if we drove each other crazy, especially Grandpa.

Feliciano crossed his arms and made his best attempt at a scowl. It wasn’t a very good one. “How heartless of you.”

I shrugged, mouth still full. “Eh.”

“Are you going out too?” I asked him.

Feliciano clutched at his scarf. “Yes, I have many more presents to buy if you must know!” he puffed up his chest with a sense of importance. I wasn’t buying it. There was something off about him.

Nervously, Feliciano sensed my skepticism and decided to change the subject. He fluttered to the other end of the kitchen and reached into the plastic holder that kept all our bills and important papers.

“A teacher, huh?” He said as he plucked out the sheet detailing the top three universities I had chosen.

“Yeah, why?” I asked defensively, already feeling my cheeks begin to boil. “What about it? Do you think that I’m not going to follow through with it?”

“No! No! Of course not!” Feliciano blurted out apologetically. “I’m just so happy and…surprised. Seeing you, and then Grandpa…I’m just really proud of you okay?! I know we don’t get along very well and I get on your nerves and annoy you and you don’t like being compared to me but good for you, Lovino! I knew you had this in you, and I can’t wait until you get accepted!”

I sighed. Feliciano had a habit of saying everything that was on his mind when he was nervous. Awkwardly, I walked over to pat him on the shoulder. “Uh, I’m not really good at this but thanks. I’m proud of you too. I heard that you’re kicking ass in your studio. Keep it up?” I phrased that last part more as a question, wanting to punch myself because of how cliché it sounded.

Feliciano’s eyes widened into beach balls. “Thank you, Lovi!”

“ACK!” I squirmed uncomfortably as Feliciano pulled me into a vise-grip hug. “Relax! Relax! Jesus! And how do you know that I’ll get accepted? There’s no guarantee!”

“Gasp!” Feliciano giggled. “Grandpa told me that you were on this positivity cleanse. Don’t lose it now! Who knows, maybe I’ll join you, ah, in this spiritual journey.”

“Look, I know you’re my brother but that was cringey as fuck,” I winced. Feliciano faltered. “Uh, cringey in a good way,” I haphazardly corrected and scratched the back of my head. “You’re right. I have a lot to look forward to and be happy about. There’s no point in focusing on the negative.”

I wasn’t the best conversationalist as you can probably tell. Feliciano knew this too.

Feliciano’s face lit up again. “I’m glad.”

Knock! Knock! Knock!

“Is Grandpa back from the store already?” I furrowed my brows.

Feliciano faltered and his eyes flicked back and forth nervously.

“Feli,” I began, reading into his tensed-up posture. “Who’s there?”

“Well, I better get going now,” Feliciano shrugged away from me and set off toward the door.

My heart stopped. “Feli, you did not!” I knew Feliciano had already visited and caught up with him, but I didn’t think that he would ever dare to take things this far.

Feliciano refused to look at me as I followed him out of the kitchen and into the front hallway.

“I’m sorry, but you two need to talk to each other.”

“I–!”

“–and not just on Facebook!” Feliciano interrupted.

“I’m not doing this,” I protested. “This is my business, not yours. You can’t just–”

Feliciano shrugged on his coat and grabbed the doorknob. Time froze. “–Too bad, I am. This is tough love, Lovi. It may suck now, but you’ll be glad that I did this later…” he trailed off vaguely and then ripped open the door–and my heart– in one fell swoop.

“Antonio!” Feliciano trilled. “You’re just in time! I was just leaving for some errands. See you two later!”

Nearly tripping over himself, Feliciano skirted around Antonio and hopped down the porch. The kid could run, but I was just as fast as him. I would find him and I would kill him; that is, if I survived what was about to unravel here.

Uncertain, Antonio stood on the front mat, gloved hands carrying an old tin box. His cheekbones looked thinner – not in a defined way either, but rather, deprived. There was a daunting look in his green eyes that I didn’t recognize. The only thing familiar about him was the same messy brown curls that stuck up in all directions, looking windswept in an atmosphere as airless as space.

“Hello, Lovino,” he greeted stiffly. “May I…?”

“Yes, of course. Um, hi,” I welcomed him into the house, glancing at his feet as I shut the front door. This is the first time we had verbally spoken to each other in months. Aside from the occasional “hi how are you” texts, we hadn’t bothered to Skype or call each other.

This whole scene was overwhelming. I thought that I had healed, but seeing him now had caused the broken seams of my composure to display themselves. I had forgotten how vulnerable I was when I was with him.

“I brought Turrón,” Antonio murmured as he handed me the tin box.

“Thank you.” I took the tin box and placed it in the fridge while Antonio hung up his coat and took off his shoes.

He met me in the kitchen and whistled hollowly. “You’ve been really busy,” he commented.

I straightened and shut the fridge. “In…?”

“You know,” Antonio’s eyes focused anywhere but me. “In school, or so I’ve heard.”

I crossed my arms. “I told you,” I said simply. The venom was all in my eyes.

“You did,” Antonio said plainly. The shame revealed itself in how he kept fidgeting with his hands, fumbling with the buttons on the cuffs of the burgundy dress shirt he wore.

“Look,” I cut in. “I have a lot of stuff to do, so if you want to catch up, let’s go into my room. I want to wrap Feli’s presents while he’s gone.”

“Sounds good.”

We walked up to my room. On instinct, Antonio sat at the foot of the bed, crossed-legged on the ground because he had always been this weird, while I began pulling out wrapping paper from the closet.

“Congratulations on your grades, by the way,” Antonio began again. “I think it’s wonderful what you’ve accomplished.”

I grit my teeth. Everything that came out of him sounded so fake and rehearsed.

“Yeah, well, I’ve been studying my ass off,” I replied. “How about you? I’ve noticed on your Instagram that you’ve been to a lot of parties, with a lot of girls. You must be really passionate about your grades,” I finished sarcastically.

Antonio smiled, but it didn’t reach his face. He was clearly agitated by my comment. “Only at the beginning of the year. I had a lot to catch up on in the last two months to make up for it, but I pulled through. I’m, eheh,” he chuckled nervously, “not keen on committing myself to anyone just yet other than the occasional fling.”

Well, that was extremely bold of him to admit. “I know,” I retorted, eyes burning.

Antonio avoided eye contact and was quick to deflect from himself. This wasn’t a conversation. It was a masquerade of jabs and insults masked by social pleasantries. “What about you? You and Bella seem to be pretty close lately. You’ve been to a few parties too, haven’t you?”

“We have, but only to hang out and see friends. I don’t do anything…I don’t smoke or drink or any of that stupid shit anymore. I stopped.”

Antonio’s expression lightened. “I know, Feliciano told me. It’s really amazing how much of a 180 you’ve made these last few months, Lovino. I’m honestly very proud of you. I’m sure you’ve heard this before, but you’ve earned it. You’ve proved us all wrong.”

Nonplussed, I muttered a basic thank you.

The house shook as Grandpa entered the front door.

There was still something off about Antonio, but I couldn’t quite place it.

“I have to go to the washroom,” I said abruptly. “I’ll be back.”

In the washroom, I stared blankly at myself in the mirror, unbelieving that this was really happening. The emotions that I felt were real and raw. What sucked was that the person I felt them for didn’t reciprocate. There was nothing real about him other than the fact that he was here.

I must have stood there for several minutes before leaving and dazedly entering the upstairs hallway. On cue, as if he had been waiting for me, Grandpa met my gaze at the bottom of the stairs and gave me a knowing look. That confirmed it. He and Feliciano both had planned this whole shebang.

“I’m here if you need me,” Grandpa mouthed, albeit sheepishly. I gestured something profane at him.

“Tsk!” Grandpa hissed. “Show some manners.”

“Sorry,” I whispered. “My bad.” I smiled angrily and stuck up my middle finger.

Grandpa shook his head in defeat and retreated downstairs. I inhaled deeply and set off toward my bedroom, only to pause when I heard the rusty click of my closet being opened.

“What the?” I murmured and approached the bedroom door, peeking into the crack. The sound of a drawer being snapped open confirmed it

Antonio was searching my room for drugs. He still didn’t trust me.

Furious, I quietly opened the bedroom door and softly let it click behind me. I stood there, watching as Antonio proceeded to check under my mattress, back still turned to me.

It was only when I cleared my throat and he turned around that tears began pouring down my face.

“You have a lot of nerve,” I whispered, trembling and teeth chattering against each other. My knees felt weak and the room began to spin. It took a lot of effort to remain my composure. I couldn’t shout because I didn’t want to bring Grandpa into this.

Startled, Antonio whipped around and nearly banged his head in the process. He clumsily got to his feet. His green eyes widened before looking away in humiliation.

“Lovi, I–!”

“–Save it!” I spat. “If I didn’t realize this before then I sure as hell am 100% convinced now. You’re an asshole.”

Antonio didn’t say anything. Instead, he let out a hasty breath. He knew I was in the right here. For the first time, he was letting me say my piece. I wasn’t going to be indoctrinated by his negative opinions anymore.

“I did this all for you,” I continued, now sobbing. “I quit for you. I attended school for you. I’m going to university because of you. Why is it that no matter what I do you still don’t trust me? Everything I do is wrong to you. I can never win.”

I was beginning to see now that I wasn’t the only one who had told lies in our relationship.

Antonio moved forward. “That’s not true!” he protested – lied. “Lovino, you have to understand. What you were like before…it’s just hard to believe,” he back-peddled.  It’s not that I don’t believe in you, I just needed to–”

“–If you really believed in me, then you wouldn’t have done this. You wouldn’t have invaded my privacy. You have no right to be in my life anymore. You’re a trespasser.”

“Just go,” I waved my hand at him. “You spouted all this bullshit about how I don’t work hard enough in school, and yet, you’re shit at working at relationships. I’m tired of it. Go fuck all the girls you want, see if I care. It’s easy for you. Maybe I am difficult to deal with, but this really proves how shitty of a person you are.”

Antonio’s temper spiked. “So what if I had a little fun and let loose? I deserved it after working for months to get into the program of my dreams. I didn’t owe you anything after years of waiting for you to change.”

“I have changed. How can you not see that?” I should have ended it there, but I didn’t.

“You’re lying,” Antonio snapped. “I saw Alfred the other day. He told me how much you’ve been out on the weekends.”

“Yeah, what about it?!” I exploded. “I work all week, and balance it with breaks. And newsflash! Alfred’s unreliable. I haven’t talked to him in months. He’s just bitter that I’ve stopped being friends with him. How could you possibly trust him over me?”

Antonio didn’t have much of a rebuttal for this. He inhaled sharply and raised his voice. The old me would have shrunk down and swallowed everything he said. This wasn’t the case anymore. I had learned how to look after myself and that included thinking for myself.

My gut instinct turned out to be spot-on.

“You know what?” Antonio seethed. “You were right. I still don’t trust you. I was a fool to think that we would be turn out to be something more. It was nice while it lasted, but I guess fucking around was all we were ever meant to be. You haven’t changed at all. You’re still the whiny entitled brat that I broke off with three months ago.”

The tears stopped. It was unnatural how calm I was. “At least you’re finally being honest with me.”

Antonio left after that.

Numbly, I sat at my desk, unreactive to the angry thumps down the staircase as Antonio left the house.

Anxiety rose up in my chest, something I hadn’t felt in a long time. On instinct, I grabbed my agenda and began scribbling. I needed direction, organization, something other than the chaos that had just been unfairly pulled on me.

Positive thoughts = positive outcomes.

I didn’t want my life to be like this.

Antonio, that bastard, was right. It was time to grow up. However, to do that, I needed to cut him out of my life.

The pen rocked slightly before resuming a smooth, structured glide against the sheet of paper.

- Do things for yourself, not Antonio.

- Prove yourself right.

- Stop attracting negativity and stupidity in your life.

- Think more positively.

Knock! Knock!

“Toma?” Grandpa asked softly. I tensed. My back was still turned to him. He didn’t bother to ask me if I was okay. He already knew the answer. “Do you want to talk about it?”

I turned to him and tears immediately began pouring down my cheeks.

“Oh Toma,” Grandpa cooed. “Come, here. It’s all right. You’re all right. Shhhh.”

“I hate him,” I sobbed.

Grandpa sighed, conflicted. “You and I both know that’s not true.”

“I know,” I shuddered, gripping onto him tightly. “That’s my problem.”

“It won’t be if I go over there and murder him.”

“GRANDPA!”

“…Fine…”

…

Three months later

…

Spring Break.

It had been three months since I had cut him loose, no messages, nothing. I didn’t feel anything for him and my family respected that. I didn’t bring him up and they didn’t either. Besides, I had a lot more going on my life to divert my time and energy to.

“I don’t want to look at it!” I wailed, covering my eyes.

Bella sighed, waving the envelop that dictated the rest of my life with ease. “Oh hush,” she scolded, crossing her arms as she leaned against the kitchen counter. A creak from upstairs told me that Grandpa hadn’t listened and was hovering above in the upstairs hallway.

“There’s no reason to be worried. You did fine, trust me,” she reassured.

I gave Bella a critical up and down onceover. “You opened it, didn’t you?” I accused.

Bella blushed. “N-no! I just shook it up a little until I was able to catch a glance through the laminated part. Just look at it,” she smiled. “You’ll like what you see, promise.”

“Bella!” I snapped. “You can’t do that, it’s illegal.”

“JUST OPEN IT ALREADY!” Bella and Grandpa shouted, exasperated from the suspension. I’m pretty sure I also heard Feliciano chime in. Grandpa probably had him on speaker.

“Fine!” I huffed and snatched the envelop from Bella. Irritated at having the moment ruined, I ripped open the envelope and pulled out the bundle of papers.

All I needed to see was a congratulations before I collapsed into a chair, cheeks flushed.

“I did it,” I said. “I fucking did it.”

The excitement set in as I stood up and read the bottom paragraph of the acceptance letter.

Mr. Lovino Vargas,

Congratulations. We are pleased to inform you that you have received an offer of admission for the Honours program with a Specialization in Education. We are looking forward to seeing you in September. Welcome to the University of ______!

Grandpa and Feliciano erupted in cheers.

“I think you mean, we fucking did it,” Bella giggled, pulling out her own letter of acceptance. She had applied to the same university, except she was taking economics.

My smile grew wider. We would both be getting out of this neighborhood.

“Lovino! Agh!” Bella’s breath was taken out of her as I scooped her up into my arms, kicked open the front door, and paraded us both down the street in a full sprint. Nothing could stop me, sorry, us, now.

“We’re getting out of here, we’re really getting out of here!” I shouted.

We laughed and hooted, ignoring the confused looks of our neighbors. Some kids joined in just for the sake of it.

HONK!

I moved us to the side of the road and set Bella on her feet. “We won’t be getting out of here if you keep being reckless like that,” she scolded.

“Fuck me! I’m just excited, all right!? I have every right to. From now on, they’ll be no more bad in our life. We’ll make lives for ourselves. We’ll get out of here and never look back.”

I turned, and immediately burst out laughing when I spotted Grandpa standing at the front door in his bathrobe. He looked like a disgruntled suburban mom who hadn’t had her morning dose of Xanax.

“Okay,” I conceded. “I think I can warrant a visit or two on occasion.”

“Lovino,” Grandpa pouted.

“I’m coming, you old fart. Hang on.”

I then did something that I hadn’t done in fifteen years. I sprinted toward Grandpa and brought him into a hug, accidentally headbutting him in the process.

Four years of undergrad and then another three years of teachers’ college.

I could do this.

…

Seven years later

…

“I can do this,” I said with a forced grin on my face, setting down a box in the front room of my new apartment. “It’s not that bad.”

The one-bedroom apartment looked more like a hovel than a living space. I would have to call my landlord and give him a piece of my mind. It hadn’t been cleaned, nor were the carpets and flooring replaced like he had promised. Three teenagers had lived in here before me – the odorous smell, empty beer cans and smoke stains on the wall were most indicative of that. Thankfully, I wasn’t moving in today. I had only been given the key.

Bella bit her lip. “It could use a… bit of work. We’ll have to clean it before you move in. I mean, you could always just move in with me. The offer still stands.”

“No,” I sighed. “You know that I like to pay for my own things.” It was one thing if I had been contributing toward the rent. Either way, I liked having my own space.

“I know,” Bella smirked. “You’ve always been so stubborn. It’s almost endearing when you’re not on the receiving end of it,” she teased.

Bella’s apartment for the first two months had been paid for by her brother. She’s had trouble finding a job. Regardless, she was still pretty high maintenance. Drug money had given her many privileges. It wasn’t relying on her brother so much that bothered her, but rather, the money he was using to help her.

I had been lucky in that I had found a job pretty much right away. She was still searching for one.

“What can I say?” I shrugged. “I’ll live on Mr. Noodles and peanut butter for a few months, or years if I have to. I’m just starting. I have a job and my own place. What more can I ask for?”

“That’s right. Start small and end big,” Bella said.

“You’re such a baby,” I mused, reading right into her. “It’s not that bad. You don’t have to help me clean if you don’t want to. You look like you’ve just been asked to bathe in a dumpster. Wouldn’t want your pretty hands to get all smudged up anyway.”

Bella’s chest puffed up. “That’s what gloves are for! Grossed out as I am, I’m still going to help,” she furrowed her brows. “What’s that saying of yours again?”

“Which one?” I asked.

“You know,” Bella waved her hand. “It’s similar to when the going gets tough, you…”

“Ah,” I held up a finger. “Instead of letting fear and negativity rule your life, ‘Look the devil in the eye and shake his hand.’ Adversity has nothing on you if you don’t let it. You just have to be patient and stubborn as a motherfucker if you want to succeed.”

“Yes! That! We’ll do that!” Bella exclaimed.

“That we will. Ugh,” I wrinkled my nose. “Let’s leave. This place reeks.”

Bella had already sought refuge in the outside hallway.

Other than cleaning the apartment, I didn’t have many problems to deal with. Like I said, I had a place, and I began my new job as a history teacher in two weeks.

Things were looking good.

…

“He’s so good looking!” Several female students cooed.

My tour guide, a young and recently-hired teacher himself, smirked.

“They think you’re cute,” Mr. Beilschmidt, or rather, Gilbert, chuckled. “That’s a good sign. The kids here aren’t usually this receptive to newbies. Took me a year and half before they finally warmed up to me. Several pranks later, and we’re cool now. Administration hates me for it, though. That’s another thing,” he mused, still speaking at a mile a minute. He was the type of person who liked the sound of his own voice.

“Watch out for that harpy in the office, Elizabeta,” Gilbert warned. “She’ll staple your fingers together if you get on her bad side. Trust me,” he shuddered, strange red eyes wide and unblinking as he appeared to recall something troublesome.

“Thanks for the advice,” I muttered.

When Gilbert wasn’t looking, I looked over my shoulder and teasingly raised my eyebrows at the pack of girls watching our every move by their lockers. I had a full smile in place.

“AHHHH~!” The female students squealed.

Gilbert took us in a lap around the bottom floor, teaching me the ins and the outs of where everything was. It was a giant school (more like an industrial complex), easily boasting 1000 students. It was high-end for a public school given that it was located far out in the suburbs. It would be costing me a fortune just to get here every day in gas.

“Well,” Gilbert clapped his hands together. “Why don’t we show you your floormies?!” This guy had way too much energy. It was ungodly to have his energy this early in the morning.

“Floormies?” I deadpanned.

“You know,” Gilbert grinned. “The peeps you’ll be teaching next to! Wait, do kids still say peeps these days?”

“They do not,” I stated, plainly.

“Yikes, I must be getting old.”

“Thirty isn’t that old,” I pointed out.

WHACK! My eyes bugged out as Gilbert clapped me on the back. “I have a feeling that we’re going to get along just fine, Vargas.” He then placed an arm around my shoulders, causing me to slump under the weight of it. Gilbert wasn’t tall, but he was considerably built for his size.

I held back a scowl. I just had to get through this one damn tour. I could always ignore him later if needed. I had a feeling that he would be the type of co-worker that drove everyone else nuts. Indeed, he seemed to be nuts himself.

“As I was saying!” Gilbert cut in roughly, quick to divert the subject away from his age. “You’ll be teaching in the Social Science wing. I’ll be down to the left teaching World Issues, Fran will to be to the right teaching Challenge and Change – a bullshit, useless course if you ask me, ahem– and Tonio will be right across from you teaching Anthropology; he’s the boring one of the bunch. Dude hasn’t been acquainted with the word fun for years…blah blah blah…another useless fact about myself…blah blah…” his voice droned on and on.

I stared blankly and continued to walk down the hall with Gilbert. I wanted to see my classroom, that’s what really mattered to me.

Gilbert took my silence the wrong way. “There’s no need to worry, Mr. Vargas, Lovino…Lo, can I call you that–?”

“–No.”

Gilbert didn’t take no for an answer. “We’ll all be chumps in no time, Lo. I have really good gut instincts, and I’m already quite fond of you.”

“Mmmm,” I replied. I had long stopped listening.

“Shit!” Gilbert jumped, removing his arm from my shoulders.

Perplexed, I turned to him in question. Gilbert’s eyes nervously flicked back and forth between his wristwatch and a clock hanging from the ceiling.

Abruptly, he grabbed my arm. “We need to go, now!” he commanded.

“Wait, why? I thought you going to show me my classroom?” I spluttered as Gilbert half-dragged me forward.

“There’s no time. The bell’s about to ring and I don’t know about you, but I’m not about to get caught up in the stampede. Those kids are feral animals when they’re hungry. Get between them and their lockers and you’re as good as dead.”

Next thing I knew, we were running at a full-sprint. A few teachers popped their heads out of their classrooms to scold us for causing a disturbance, but Gilbert paid them no heed.

“In ya go!” Gilbert shoved me forward.

I stumbled forward a few steps before catching my balance and looking up to realize that we were in the staffroom.

I checked my watch. “It’s 10:40,” I said. “I thought lunch started at 10:50?”

Gilbert burst out laughing. “Oops, sorry,” he apologized. “I’m dyslexic, so these kind of things happen sometimes. Well, I’m sure they won’t mind if we take an early lunch break. I had a spare this period anyway. Make yourself at home,” he heaved, gesturing about the room. “We have microwaves, ovens, and a full fridge stocked with food if you need.”

While Gilbert seated himself at a long table in the center of the room, I set about the kitchen and placed my Tupperware filled with pasta into a microwave. It wasn’t long before teachers began piling into the room. The haggard and fatigued expressions they wore made it seem like they had just come back from a battlefield.

Gilbert waved me over. “Lo, over here–”

I dropped my Tupperware and stared dead ahead. That couldn’t have been him, right? I was just tired and cranky. My mind was playing tricks on me.

They weren’t.

There was no replicating the way that his curls stood up in a tornado of mussed up synchrony, nor did anyone have green eyes quite as fluorescent as his.

Antonio was teaching here and went by “Tonio.”

When his eyes met mine, originally having looked over to see what had made the crashing sound, his lips parted open. He was older, seven years older to be exact, but he was still very much Antonio. His face and cheekbones were more defined, he wasn’t as lanky, and there were lines at the corners of his mouth and eyes from smiling. What was strange is that he looked like he hadn’t smiled in years judging by the absence of engagement in his gaze. There was something missing, but I couldn’t quite place it. How could I? I hadn’t spoken to him at all after our last fight.

“You!” I jabbed my finger at Antonio. He flinched.

Gilbert coughed awkwardly, looking back between the two of us. “Uh, do you two know each other…?” Antonio was frozen in place, staring at me without any subtlety. I wasn’t much better, glaring him down as if he were a fresh piece of meat. I was the truck, and he was the deer frozen in the middle of the road.

“You!” I repeated. The room quieted.

Antonio attempted to say something but nothing came out.

I drove forward. “You!” I said again. “Antonio Fernández–shitstain–Carriedo! Screw you and thank you for making me prove your ass wrong. I would have amounted to nothing if you hadn’t pushed my ass to do better. I owe a lot of where I am now to you, you douchebag!” I stopped, breathing heavily.

“I’m not the whiny entitled brat that you left anymore. I TOLD YOU, DIDN’T I? That I would make something out of myself? And now look at me, you bastard. Halle-fucking-lujah. You were wrong and I was right! HA! Look at me…what I did…I…I…”

Silence.

I looked around the room. Embarrassed, I recollected myself, blushing. “I…um, please e-excuse me.”

Shaking, I went over to pick up my fallen lunch – thankfully it was still intact, and left the staff room. I didn’t know where to go, but I sure as hell couldn’t have stayed there after pulling what I just did. Way to go Lovino. It’s your first day and you probably already just got your ass fired…

Gilbert whooped after me as I left. “Wowee! That guy’s got passion! That was freaking awesome!” Younger teachers laughed in agreement, whereas the older ones remained still in a stunned silence.

“You should probably go check on him, Gil.”

“You’re right, Fran,” Gilbert stood up. It was his turn to jab a finger at Antonio, who had yet to move from his position. He had become one with the floor. “You could learn something from him, Tonio, whatever the heck your guys’ history is. He’s got spunk and takes risks.”

“Ay…”

“See, what did I say? BORING!”

…

“Bye Mr. Vargas~!”

The classroom door clicked shut, and I just about collapsed at my desk when I knew that no one could hear me.

“Fuck,” I whispered. I had taught for two periods straight, only to come out of it feeling like I had just stood in court for ten hours. “I did it.”

I didn’t get fired for my earlier stunt either, that was also a bonus.

“Well, let’s get the hell out of here.” Knowing Bella, she’d be waiting at my apartment door, wanting to know how my first day on the job went.

Nonplussed from the ups and downs I had experienced today, I slowly began gathering my things. I was still jittery and my fingers clumsily knocked over a holder filled with pens.

“Need some help?” Antonio asked.

“AH!” I screamed and jumped back. “DON’T DO THAT YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I HATE TO BE CREPT UP ON!”

I faltered. What I had just said had come out without any filter in place. It was as if we had picked up where we had last left off, rather than me avoiding him for seven years.

Antonio smiled guiltily and scratched the back of his head, nervous. “I know,” he said. “I did as well.”

I swallowed heavily. I couldn’t look at him and instead resorted to focusing on cleaning up the pens.

“So,” I began, “You work here?”

“For two years, yes,” Antonio answered. “And now you do too… everyone already loves you, so I wouldn’t worry about…”

I looked up, lips curled slightly. “…me throwing a fit like a total maniac?” I finished.

“Yes, I mean no!” Antonio protested vehemently, hastily correcting himself. “It was warranted.”

I put the last pen in the holder and straightened. Antonio followed.

This time, I met his eyes directly, only to pinpoint what was missing in him. There was no more passion in his gaze. It was like life had taken Antonio’s eagerness, sucked it up, only to spout it out again and smother itself across his face into something that would never quite capture his prior vibrant countenance.

“I’m still sorry,” I apologized. “That was completely unprofessional of me.”

“Don’t,” Antonio shook his head. “Don’t apologize. Not after what I did. I came here to do that.”

I let out a deep breath. “I’m listening.” We were standing parallel to each other, myself on one side of the desk, and him on the other.

“Ay, you still have that same old look,” Antonio murmured. “It burns right into you.”

“Get on with it, you bastard,” I snapped.

“Right, sorry. I just wanted to say that you were right, about everything pretty much. I didn’t want to admit it at the time, although I realize it now. I was selfish to break things off with you like that. You weren’t perfect, sure, but anyone could have seen the effort you were making. You were always stubborn like that. It’s what made me so jealous of you.”

“Me?” I spluttered.

“Yes,” Antonio said firmly. “You. You used to say that you admired how I could remain so positive in life, but it was all a farce. But you, you were real. No matter the circumstances, you were able to push through the negative. Meanwhile, all I could do was focus on what I didn’t have and lost what really mattered…

“I had my whole life ahead of me, I was going to be a professional soccer player for God’s sake. When that was taken from me, I panicked. I fled like a coward and who knows how much pain I caused you. Lovino, words can’t describe how sorry I am for doing that to you. It’s one of my biggest regrets.”

“It’s fine,” I mumbled.

“No, it’s not,” Antonio inhaled sharply. “It really isn’t, especially with our last fight. You saw right through my bullshit, and I resented you for it. I wanted to start over, except I couldn’t get you off my mind. I was supposed to be focusing on my grades but drank and hooked-up to forget about you. I was a hypocrite. I flunked through my whole first semester, you know that?”

“You lied?” I asked, incredulous.

“I did. I didn’t want you to think that I was a failure. I also didn’t want you to think that I still loved you.”

“But you did.”

“I did,” Antonio repeated. “I really, truly did. It was never really about your friendship with Alfred. I didn’t like the way that he looked at you and was insecure that you would leave me for him. I didn’t want you to look at me as if I were broken.”

“So you had to break me in the process?”

“…” Antonio remained silent.

“I’m sorry,” I blinked several times. “Wow, fuck. This is a lot to process. Can I just ask you one thing?”

“Of course, anything,” Antonio replied, eyes wide.

“You really didn’t see me as someone to fuck around with?”

“No! No! Never!” Antonio waved his hands frantically.

“Okay.” I believed him. It’s funny how subjective one’s own reality can be. You accept it as fact until proven otherwise. And here I thought that I had known him so well.

“I’m sorry too. I was pretty immature about the whole thing. I didn’t have to call you all those names and bring up the accident either. Oh, and apology accepted,” I reached out to shake hands with Antonio. “The past is the past and I’m more than willing to move on if you are.”

Look the devil in the eye and shake his hand.

“Definitely.” Antonio clasped my hand in his. The hand shake lasted longer than expected.

“So, how have you been?” I asked.

“All right, I guess,” Antonio shrugged. “I don’t do much other than teach and go home.”

“Yikes, sounds boring.”

“It is…” Antonio winced. “I must seem so pathetic to you.” I ignored that comment.

I looked down to see spot a pack of cigarettes sticking out from the front pocket of his jeans. “You smoke now?”

“Yeah,” Antonio admitted regretfully. “You don’t?”

“I haven’t since the last time I promised you.”

“Oh.”

“Well, well, well,” I crossed my arms. “The tables have turned, Carriedo.”

“Ay,” Antonio chuckled. “I think that’s enough about me. How have things been with you? How’s your family?”

“Good. Feliciano’s in Germany. He just opened up a studio there, and Grandpa? He’s just old, like really old.”

“You’re still harsh on him,” Antonio laughed.

“It’s part of my charm. Brutal honesty.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” Antonio snorted. “Are you leaving now?”

Silence.

My eyes narrowed.

“Did you just lick your lips at me?” I accused.

Antonio blushed. “N-no?”

“Oh my God, you did.”

“I didn’t!”

“You SO DID!” I said, exasperated.

“I was just going to ask you if you wanted to walk out of the school together.”

“Oh,” I snickered. “Honey, hell to the no. Not in your damned dreams and certainly not after what you pulled on me. You haven’t earned that yet. You’re going to have to do a lot of work before we can become friends again.”

A fire ignited in Antonio’s eyes. “Fair enough. Just know that I’m a sore loser.”

“Trust me, I know,” I scoffed. “I have a talent for attracting stupidity.”

Antonio grinned smugly. “Are you coming?”

“What part of no, don’t you understand? I’ll walk myself out, now out,” I pointed at the door.

If Antonio was a dog, his before wagging tail would now be plastered between his legs. “Fine, I’ll see you tomorrow…Mr. Vargas…”

“That’s what I thought, fucker.”

Like I said, he hadn’t earned anything from me yet.

I smiled, proud of myself. “You’re not my problem anymore.”

Boy, was I ever wrong.

Satisfied, I pulled out my agenda.

-Work on your relationship with the bastard Antonio

…

Two and a half years later.

…

My entire face twitched.

One lecture. I’d just like to get through one lecture without losing my shit on the idiotic trio that were my ‘floormies.’

BANG!

Antonio was on a spare and took this time to annoy the absolute hell out of me.

I sighed.  The class remained silent, knowing that now was not the time to test my nerves. “Ahem, as I was saying, the Romans were notorious for their–”

BANG! BANG! BANG!

“Mr. Vargas, should I shut the door?” Mei asked.

“Yes, just give me a moment.” Angrily, I stormed over to my desk, flung open a drawer, pulled out a tennis ball, and hurled it out of the room. I didn’t bother to look. It was all done on instinct at this point.

The faded “Ay!” told me that I had hit my mark. I knew exactly where Antonio’s desk was located.

“You can shut the door now,” I smiled at Mei.

As expected Antonio wasn’t done with me just yet.

The lecture continued smoothly for another half hour with no interruptions. Gilbert’s shouts as he taught could still be heard through the walls, but everyone was already long used to this.

Allen raised his hand. “Mr. Vargas, can I go to the washroom?”

I nodded my head. “Sure. Oh, and tell Mr. Carriedo that if he doesn’t watch it, I’m going to hammer his thick head to the wall.”

“…Okay…” Allen gave me a strange look before slinking out of the classroom.

When Allen came back, it was my turn to give him a strange look.

I stopped the lecture again. “What is that?” I asked him.

“What’s what?” Allen asked innocently, too innocently. He was holding a red plastic cup in his hand. He stood cockily in front of the class, trying his best not to laugh.

“The cup in your hand,” I stated dryly, on the verge of losing my patience.

“Oh, that. I don’t know,” Alfred shrugged.

Resigned, I moved on.

Two minutes later, another demon asked to go to the washroom. Unsurprisingly, they too came back with a red plastic cup.

Instead of answering my question, Yong Soo grinned and pranced back to his seat.

The pile of students leaving the classroom and coming back with those same damned cups was becoming uncanny. It was all my undoing, really. I hated saying no to kids.

“Matthew,” I just about pleaded. “Not you too.”

Matthew avoided eye contact. “Sorry,” I’m pretty sure he whispered.

Enough was enough. I wrenched open the classroom door and barged into Antonio’s classroom.

The lazy bastard was sprawled over his leather chair, feet arrogantly kicked up on his desk. “Why are you giving my students empty cups?”

Antonio smirked. “Well, I had to get your attention somehow.” Leave it to him to come up with a prank as lame and irrational as this.

“I’m teaching, you dumbass!” I hissed in a whisper. “Don’t you have anything better or productive to do, like, oh, I don’t know, grading the papers that were handed in to you three weeks ago?!”

“…That’s not nice, Lovi,” Antonio pouted.

“And causing me to get behind on my lecture material isn’t?” I retorted and then slapped a hand on his desk.

Antonio met me head on, leaning forward. “What can I say,” he mused. “Driving you nuts is my passion. Grading, not so much.”

“Fine, whatever. Can you at least explain to me why you used cups of all things?”

“I’m taking over your classroom.”

“What?” I deadpanned.

“You know, a cup d’etat.”

I turned on my heels. “I’m sorry I asked.”

“WAIT, LOVI!”

I slammed Antonio’s classroom door shut.

…

SLAM!

Two hours after school ended, I packed up my things and made to leave.

I soon found myself pinned against a row of lockers outside in the hallway. Two red cups rested near both sides of my head. Antonio stood in front of me, a devilish smirk on his face.

“You’re still smug about that stupid-ass prank, aren’t you?” I sighed. “Let it go, bastard. Let it go.”

“Come on,” Antonio whined. “It was funny!”

“You’re so lame,” I rolled my eyes.

“Agreed,” Gilbert shouted from his classroom. The freak, albeit insane, was extremely regimented and organized. He normally stayed back for several hours to plan his lessons before going home.

“See,” I chuckled. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if we stopped playing hostage.”

“Lovinoooo,” Antonio whined again. “I’m trying to have a sexy moment here.”

“And so we’re back to this again,” I muttered, looking down. “You don’t know when to give up, do you? God, you’re stupid.”

“You’ve already said that several times. And of course not. I’ll keep trying until I win you back, no matter how many years it takes.”

“It’s not my problem that you can’t handle rejection.”

“You’re such a hypocrite,” Antonio murmured softly, lowering his hands and gracelessly letting the cups fall to the floor with a bang. “You’re enjoying this, don’t lie.”

“What can I say?” I mocked Antonio. “I have a habit of attracting stupidity in my life.”

“But what about me? I’m both stupid and attractive. Are you attracted to me?”

I tilted up my chin. “Not exactly what I was getting at, but I’ll willing to let it slide. At least you’re self-aware.”

“So…?” Antonio asked expectantly with bated breath. He must have picked up on the fact that something was different this time. There was a spark where they hadn’t been one before.

“Yes, I’m attracted to you,” I admitted grudgingly. “Guess that must make me stupid too.”

Antonio cocked his head to the side. “Just out of curiosity, what made you finally change your mind?”

“Well, it’s not like we haven’t fooled around,” I pointed out. “Does the equipment room at lunch ring any bells to you?”

“Yes, but you’ve never admitted to it. You always brush me off. What now, what’s different?” Antonio asked eagerly.

A pause.

“Sweetheart?”

I raised myself onto my tippy-toes and brushed my lips against his. “You’ve proven your honesty to me, stupid. If you’ve waited this long, then who am I to hold you hostage?”

“Oh,” Antonio’s cheeks flushed. “Thank you.” It wasn’t long before Antonio got over his daze to reciprocate and deepen the kiss. Everything about this felt right. The heat of his breath, raking my hand through his muss of curls, his hands on my waist, my hand on his chest…everything. It was raw; real;familiar.

“No problem.”

-The End

#hetalia #aph Spain #aph Romano #spamano #fanfiction #my story

[thecorpulentbeagle]

P5 Shipping Round Robin: Day 3

I know both of these characters are HUGELY popular in the fandom, so I definitely put a little bit more effort into this one to make sure that it’s fantastic! It’s a little longer to make up for the first two being rather short.

Here is the fanfiction.net link.

Please enjoy this next part of the P5 Shipping Round Robin Challenge!

P5 Shipping Round Robin Challenge:

Movie Date:

Futaba x Goro

-Phantom Thieves-

“The movies?”

“Like a date?”

“W-what do you mean date?��

“Futaba and… Akechi?”

An explosion of disbelief was currently rocking the Phantom Thieves hideout. Every person was shocked to learn about what was going to be happening later today.

Akira nodded, looking a little stunned. “I’m not sure. All that I know is that Futaba and Akechi will be going to the movies later today. Together. With each other.”

“What the hell, man?” Ryuji shouted, standing up from the chair that he had been leaning in. “She knows as much as we do that the guy’s sketchy as hell! What is she thinking?”

“Clearly there must be more to the story than this,” Yusuke pondered, rubbing his chin. “Futaba is an intelligent individual, and we’ve expressed our concerns to her.”

“Perhaps she’s trying to extract information from him?” Makoto asked hopefully, tapping one of her textbooks nervously on her leg.

“Yeah! That’s exactly what’s going on!” Ann nodded her head furiously. Morgana was currently sitting in her lap, and he shook his head dejectedly.

Haru took notice. “Mona. What do you mean by that? Do you know something that we don’t?” All heads turned towards the cat advisor.

He lifted a paw. “Futaba was talking with me a few minutes ago. She seemed… really pumped. Like she couldn’t wait for this to happen.”

There was a full minute of silence at his words. Everyone in the group fidgeted uncomfortably. Futaba couldn’t really be going on a romantic excursion with Akechi… could she?

“Well, I don’t like it!” Ryuji raged, punching the table and causing it to shutter. Yusuke’s snacks fell to the ground, which caused the artist to look at the blonde in annoyance. Ryuji shrugged sheepishly.

“Whether we like it or not doesn’t matter. This is clearly happening,” Makoto reasoned, trying to calm everyone down, though she felt a bit of anger herself. “I suggest that we obtain more information before jumping to conclusions.”

“Hm. When does Futaba leave for her potential date, Akira?” Yusuke asked, turning to look at their leader, as did everyone else.

The boy was currently staring off into space, clearly distracted. When he did not respond, Haru tapped his shoulder.

“Akira? Did you hear Yusuke?” She looked at him with concern.

Akira started. “I… uh… Sorry, Yusuke. What did you say?”

The group looked at each other. They had never seen their leader so out of it before. Apparently, this was affecting him a great deal.

Yusuke cleared his throat. “Do you know when Futaba is to depart for the theater?”

Akira nodded. “She told me that the movie starts at noon, and that they wanted to meet each other 15 minutes before it started.”

Ann looked at her phone. “Got it. So that means we have about 10 minutes to figure out what’s going on.”

Haru moved her hand from Akira’s shoulder to rub his back with soothing motions. “But before that, what’s wrong, Akira? You seem… deeply troubled by this.”

The group waited to hear his response.

Eventually, Akira sighed. Sitting up a little straighter, he murmured, “It’s… well… I think I’m just bothered that Futaba is going out with someone.”

Ryuji winked, trying to break some tension. “Gotcha. You jealous of Akechi, dude?” Ann slapped the back of his head, which caused him to sputter and shove her back.

Akira barely noticed their squabble. “No, not really. I just…. want to make sure that she’s safe. I know she knows what she’s doing but… I don’t know. I can’t help but worry.” He scratched the back of his head. “I know that doesn’t really help, but I’m not really sure what’s going on myself.”

Makoto shook her head gently. “Don’t say that. You know the best out of all of us that emotions are complicated, but they all deserve to be felt. Besides,” she sighed herself. “I think I understand what’s going on.”

Yusuke, Ann, Haru, and Morgana nodded. Ryuji looked at them with confusion. “How’s that?”

Makoto continued gently. “She’s your family.”

Akira flinched. True, they were close, but could they really be considered that? He had always felt somewhat intrusive, like he had butted into the family dynamic between Futaba and Sojiro, but he loved being able to be a part of their relationship. He had never really been close with his parents, and Sojiro really did feel like a father to him. Which meant that Futaba was…

“Like a little sister?” Ryuji finished Akira’s thought for him. The blonde looked hard at the leader of thee Phantom Thieves. “Yeah! I could totally see that! Yo, that’s adorable!”

Haru giggled. “I agree. In truth, I feel that way about Futaba sometimes myself.”

Ann, Makoto, and Yusuke nodded. “Agreed.”

“And I think that’s why you’re all so bothered by this.” Everyone snapped their heads to look at Morgana. “True, Akechi’s a little scummy… but you guys don’t want your little sister going out on a date with someone. You want to protect her!”

The group stared, wide-eyed. Could that be the case?

Makoto nodded. “I think I see your point. Perhaps we all want to be the protective older sibling to her.”

“That’s… interesting.” Ann chuckled nervously, looking at everyone else’s somewhat apprehensive expressions.

“Well then. I think that decides it. We must learn more about this situation in order to protect Futaba!” Yusuke declared. “We must be her responsible older brothers and sisters!”

“Dude…”

Suddenly, the group heard footsteps coming up the stairs. They all quieted down at once, wondering who was approaching. Even though they weren’t talking about official Phantom Thieves business, it was a habit to immediately shut down a conversation when an outsider was within potential earshot.

Sojiro’s head popped up, looking over the group with mild annoyance. “Keep it down up here, you kids. You’re gonna scare away all of my customers”

The group sheepishly apologized. But Akira used this as an opportunity. “Sojiro! Has Futaba left for the movies yet?”

Sojiro nodded. “She did. She seemed pretty excited. You missed her by about two minutes.”

Akira turned towards his friends, his face becoming serious. The members of the Phantom Thieves felt the shift in the atmosphere. Akira had just become Joker, and they were ready to follow his orders.

“Let’s go, everyone!” Akira commanded. Everyone who wasn’t already standing stood up immediately.

“Hey! W-what the –?” Sojiro was suddenly shoved out of the way as the group of teens suddenly surged downstairs. Rubbing the back of his head, he muttered, “Those damn kids…”

Luckily, the theater was the one close to Leblanc, so the group did not have far to travel. Their serious demeanor attracted a few stares, but it also caused everyone to stay out of their way.

After a few minutes, they approached the ticket counter. It was then they realized that they wouldn’t be able to storm the movie theater like a palace – they would have to pay for entry.

Haru stepped forward. “Leave this to me, everyone!” She flashed a credit card towards the young woman at the counter. “Six tickets, please!”

Once the large group had taken care of their tickets, they made their way to the theater that held the movie Futaba would be seeing with Akechi.

They hadn’t even stopped for concessions, although Ryuji and Yusuke had attempted to. The girls and Akira had to physically drag them away from the counter.

They finally approached the theater, and they quietly snuck inside. They scanned the area.

“Man, I wish we had Oracle for this one,” Ryuji muttered, trying to see through the darkened theater.

“I agree. Hm… oh! There she is!” Makoto kept her voice low but excited as she pointed through the crowd. Everyone’s head snapped over.

Towards the front of the theater, they could see Futaba sitting by herself, skimming through her phone.

“The bastard abandoned her! I’ll kill him myself!” Ryuji cracked his knuckles threateningly.

“I’ll help,” Ann growled.

“Everyone, please calm down!” Haru waved her arms frantically. “Look, Akechi is right over there, see?”

The group directed their gaze towards the stairs, where Akechi was currently descending, with a large bowl of popcorn in his grasp. He sat down next to Futaba, who immediately began to take some.

“Oh. Well then… never mind.” Ryuji lowered his hands back down to his sides, and Ann lost her threatening posture.

“Anyway, the film is about to begin. We should find our seats,” Yusuke pointed out.

Akira nodded. “Agreed. We’ll sit a few rows back behind them. That way, we can watch them, but they won’t be able to hear or see us.”

Morgana, who was currently in the boy’s bag, nodded. “Good thinking, Joker.”

The group stealthily walked down to the aisle that was three rows back from the couple. They took their seats, glaring daggers at Akechi’s back.

“If he lays one hand on her, he’s dead!” Ryuji muttered.

“I might have to have Sis start a comprehensive investigation on him,” Makoto added.

“Or I might have to miss my target and accidently… shoot him with my grenade launcher the next time we’re in a palace.” Haru’s eyes gleamed.

“Or I might have to slip him something in his coffee the next time he orders one.” Akira leaned forward in his chair, not blinking.

“All of these ideas sound perfect to me. Perhaps I could illustrate the result.” Yusuke was doing his finger-framing, and this time, he was focusing on Akechi.

Meanwhile, Futaba and Akechi were currently munching on some popcorn, watching the opening advertisements.

Futaba giggled. “I wonder if they know that we can hear everything that they’re saying.”

Akechi chuckled. “Most definitely not. Though I must say, I am somewhat fearful for my life after hearing all of this.”

“Aw don’t worry! They’re just worried we’re on a date.”

“Ah I see. So that’s how you incorporated my reward into your reward?”

“Exactamundo! You pay for the outing, and I make them squirm. But next time, we won’t end things in a tie!”

“Oh. You seem to have a lot of confidence for someone who was almost beaten at her favorite video game.”

“You are so on. We’re totally having a rematch after this!”

“Perhaps we can advertise it to your group as… Netflix and Chill?”

“You are so evil, Akechi.”

So this was technically not a “true” romance one-shot, but there were elements of it because they thought she was on a date. Kind of flipping the idea of this challenge on its head. By the way, I totally imagine Last Surprise starting up once Akira enters Joker mode. See you tomorrow!

#p5 #persona 5 #p5roundrobin #futaba sakura #goro akechi #futago #futaba x goro #futaba x akechi #goro x futaba #akechi x futaba

[streetlites]

I let my hands roam from her waist to her hips,  pulling her ass flush against me while she grinds to the music. She laughs when I creep my fingers forward to her thighs, slightly pulling them apart, feeling the skin that’s been hidden under that deliciously short skirt. She looks back at me and I recognize that expression; I’ve got her going. Ah, fuck.

I want to ask her to go home with me but I don’t and, really, it’s the least he’d deserve for bringing us to this fucking club on a Thursday night when they don’t have the strippers here! But I’m an upstanding friend and I make sacrifices for those that I care about so instead of moving further up to see if her underwear matches her bra (that is to say, fucking none – my god!), I tell her to meet me at the bar upstairs if she wants free drinks and I make my way back up the stairs to where my buddies are sitting.

“Get the fuck out of my seat, bitch,” I tell the girl that’s been butting in to our conversation all night long, trying to get in Yulian’s pants. To his credit, he’s largely ignored her but the night’s starting to wear on and he’s checking her out a little bit when she brushes up against him now. It’s only a matter of time until he yields and lets her in.

Emilia is my friend, too, and I don’t want to be in the middle of her finding out that he went home with some random chick while I was around and I didn’t say anything. Besides, if she sees him and he still does it, then I’m off the hook, right? Also, she might want to have revenge sex and I… Okay, I’m not really a good friend to anyone, but I try.

“Guess who I got to feel up downstairs?” I ask, nudging Yulian in the ribs.

“That blonde you were eyefucking earlier?” He guesses, taking a swig from the over-priced beer they sell here.

“Nah, if it’d been her, I just would have taken her ass home and told you about it in the morning.”

“Okay, who?”

“Emilia!” I sang.

Yulian looks a little hurt, “That’s not fucking funny,” he complains.

Lobito picks his head up from the bar long enough to howl out a mocking, overdramatic, “Emilia!” He lets out a snicker and goes back to hugging his bottle.

Truthfully, we’re both more than a little annoyed that he’s been sulking over her for this long. I mean, I like Emilia, but Yulian used to be fun before he started putting his head up her ass. Plus, I hear she’s batshit crazy, like, she beat the shit out her ex and totaled his bike fucking crazy. And even then, he was still trying to get her to take him back. That pussy must be amazing.

“I’m not trying to be funny, she’s here,” I insist.

“Who’s Emilia?” The Clinger Bitch butts in.

“Chuckles, ain’t no one talking to you. Go away.” She huffs and says something about me being jealous but hovers just over Yulian’s shoulder anyway. She’s persistent, I’ll give her that.

“Even if she’s here, she’s not going to do anything with me. She said I was ‘suffocating’, Katz!”

“Oh my god, because you fucked up! Look, you’ve been crawling up her ass and she didn’t even say shit to you about it until you brought it to work with you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you guys were in an area where you were supposed to be doing something,” I cut my eyes back to the woman, who’s now dancing against him, I can’t talk around all these people, especially not around this bitch, “something dangerous, and you get rid of your backup because you’re jealous. I know Emilia can be an asshole, but you were in the wrong there. She was fine with you up until that point.”

“So?” he asks. I can’t believe this guy gets as much ass as he does, he’s completely clueless.

“SO, maybe you should have apologized? I don’t fucking know! What I do know is that she’s obviously more into you than she’s letting on.”

He runs his hands through his hair in frustration, “Should I call her? I should call her. Not tonight though, I’m too drunk,” he babbles. “I gotta take a piss,” he announces and gets up, Stage 5 Clinger moving to follow.

“Yulian!” I shout, “I’m serious! She’s here and if you go off with that bitch I will totally fuck your girl and brag about it in the morning!” He waves me off. “I’ll take your silence as consent! I fucking mean it, you dumbass!”

Lobito peers up at me, his eyes glassy, “You were just fucking around, right?”

I raise my hands in exasperation, “I keep saying I’m not joking! Why does everyone think I’m fucking around?!”

“Hah, she’s not going to go home with you,” he teases good-naturedly.

“You fucking watch. I can talk the panties off a nun!” I boast. If they run into each other, I hope I’m around to watch Clinger get clocked.

#ts4 #gameplay #ts4legacy #ts4 story #allison katz #gen 7: Fault Lines

[wherelegendscamefrom]

Henry

It is, of course, common knowledge that crickets are everywhere. They could be found in the most random of spots, keeping still and quiet until disturbed or ready for a mate. If disturbed, one frantic leap is usually all it takes for the insect to not only remove itself but frighten a few years off the life of a mammal not expecting it.

The crickets in Bunnyburrow enjoyed a much more calm life than their cousins in Zootopia and similar cities. Fewer predators meant less demand, and thus the cricket population was really only kept in check by the local birds that came every spring and summer. Not that these crickets were aware this luxury.

The cricket in the jar was, in fact, a bit peeved at his predicament. One moment, he had been happy, lazy in the sun, not even contemplating life. The next, some big, bulky mammal had snagged him in a flimsy net. Then tossed him in a jar! The nerve!

And this stupid creature wasn’t even a cricket eater. Had he been able to, he would have sighed. But, alas, he was just a cricket. In a jar. Wondering what in the sweet dandelion was going on.

The mammal had left him in a jar in a dark area, the irate creature not wanting to give into his natural urge to chirp. These non cricket eating, cricket capturing, cricket-nappers didn’t deserve to hear his song! And he didn’t even get any type of foliage to make the jar seem less…..well, jar-like.

And what do you know! This little cricket sighed.

And would have groaned if he could (though he wasn’t suppose to sigh, so you never know) when light finally came back to where he was being held. That big mammal had two smaller ones right next to it. And the one of them had definitely eaten his kind before.

Soon the three were hulking over the opening of the jar. The damned opening was too narrow to jump threw with the space he had been given. Damn and curse this jar! But the bigger mammal was talking now.

“I would like you to meet Henry!”

Henry. Seriously……..That mammal was calling him Henry? And that little one with the teeth? Definitely eats crickets. Are we sure crickets don’t groan?

“Ummmm…….Mr. Bogo?” The toothy one looked up at the big one. “Henry is a cricket. You know that, right?”

“I do indeed. I also know that Henry here is a friend of mine.”

Henry disagreed. Give him some cover, then he might consider acquaintanceship.

“And your task is: Keep Henry alive while I speak to my team.”

Please don’t kill Henry, thought the cricket. The little one with the weird antenna seemed confused.

“That’s it? We just have to make sure Henry stays alive? For how long?”

“I’ll be about an hour. One whole hour to make sure Henry stays healthy, happy and alive.”

Well, two out of three isn’t bad. The big one started walking out the door before turning to Toothy and Weirdo. Weirdo had reached and picked up the jar. And though the cricket wasn’t feeling nervous about them, this one’s teeth were pretty noticeable too.

“And I expect him back. No getting attached to him now.” The big mammal walked to the where the light came from and disappeared.

Why did Henry think he wasn’t going to survive the next hour? Because Weirdo had tipped the jar. And he was now in the smallest mammals paw. At least it wasn’t the jar, but he still couldn’t get away. This one’s paw closed gently around his back legs to keep him in place.

“I don’t think Mr. Bogo is all there, Carrots. This little guy doesn’t look like a Henry.” Thank you, Toothy! “He looks more like Lunch!”

Well that was just rude!

“Nick! You can’t eat him!”

Thank you….Carrots? Seriously?! First Henry, now Carrots? Mammals…………

“Mr. Bogo want’s us to take care of him!” The Carrots pointed the other paw at the Nick. “So don’t even think about it, Slick!”

And then he was off! The Carrots had loosened it’s grip on his legs and the cricket gave a one quick chirp before jumping…..right in between the non antenna of the Carrots.

The Nick seemed surprised. It cautiously prowled (yes, the cricket knew a prowl when he saw one, Toothy!) up to them with it’s paws out stretched.

“Don’t move, I’m going to try to grab Henry and then he goes back in the jar…. Ok, Henry?”

No, not ok, Henry! Sorry, little mammals. This cricket needs to bounce. Thank goodness the big mammal left the door open. The Nick’s paws smacked the Carrots right where Henry had been, one giant leap sending the cricket over them to where the light was. Freedom!

“OWW! WAIT! HENRY!” The Carrots rubbed where the Nick’s paws had struck it before taking off after the small creature. The Nick, stunned and remorseful at hurting it’s companion, started to follow until something caught it’s eye.

……………………..

Ian Wolford and Claudia Fangmeyer had been excused from the meeting Bogo had called. The official reason being they had not been on duty since yesterday morning; unofficial because they had spent a good portion of their night hunting for the missing Hopps doe.

Wolford would never admit it out loud, but he (like Bogo) had been thoroughly impressed with Judy Hopps’ escape. It was clever and much more complex then he would have given the bunny credit for. That did not stop him from also being irritated at the lack of sleep. Which made watching her and the little fox she was with slam into the shed door very satisfying.

Fangmeyer felt more sympathy for the young bunny than her comrade. She herself had been raised in the upper crust of society. The feeling of having every move, breath, and gaze be monitored from sun up to sun down was akin to drowning most days. She had most likely been the only member of the detail that hoped Bogo would not be too hard on Miss Hopps.

But neither had prepared themselves for their boss to enter the shed that morning only to return with a butterfly net and a glass jar. The buffalo headed in the direction of the carrot fields and returned soon after, a small greenish black cricket butting against the glass. Even stranger was when the buffalo raised the glass to eye level and smiled happily at the insect. Back into the shed he went, returning without either his new friend, nor the net.

Door shut behind him, he turned to where the tigress and wolf stood. They had been raking the dirt of the grappling ring, pausing only to exchange curious looks at Bogo’s behavior. His eyes narrowed at them, causing both mammals to draw themselves up to attention.

“No one goes in, door stays shut.” Hoof pointed at the shed, Bogo’s best scowl leveled down on the pair in clear warning.

“Yes, sir!” Fangmeyer and Wolford waited until their boss stomped away, before shrugging and continuing with their task.

They had gotten in a good half hour of their practice before Bogo returned, the run away bunny in tow. And the unfamiliar fox kit. It was the fox’s presence that made them pause, each wondering if the lord and lady knew of this development. The kit’s curious green eyes moved from the wolf to the tigress as he ran to keep up with the buffalo.

When he and Judy crashed into the door, only Fangmeyer kept her laughter in. Wolford, along with his fellow wolf Devin Howlstein and a large ram Julius Buttes, had nearly collapsed with mirth. Many felt satisfaction after having spent time and energy searching for the most wayward of bunnies the night before.

Soon after taking the kits in to the shed, Bogo returned. He called for Holstein and Buttes to follow while the wolf and tigress continued their practice for several moments until they heard the shouts.      

“OWWW!! WAIT! HENRY!!”

The pair grappling immediately halted and took off towards the door. They had nearly reached it when a small, almost unnoticeable…….thing………came hopping out.

And that’s when Fangmeyer found out Wolford was afraid of crickets.

He had skidded to a halt when he realized what it was, and had started to back away when Henry landed on the tip of his nose. Brown wolf eyes met beady cricket eyes and a heartbeat later, he let out an undignified yelp. Wolford fell onto his back and started to scramble away, shaking his muzzle to dislodge Henry.

“ARRRGGGG! Claudia!!! Get it off, get it off, GET IT OFF!!!!”  The tigress watched and processed her partner’s behavior for only a moment when the hilarity of it hit her. Doubling over, Fangmeyer’s laughter echoed across the small training grounds.

“Careful, Ian! Those things can smell fear!” She choked out, tears streaming down her muzzle. Henry the cricket bounced off Wolford’s nose just as he found the courage to smack at it. A bit more force was used, judging by the way the wolf yelped again. Free from his tormentor, he flipped himself and darted on all fours away from his companion.

The cricket took off after him, chipping his delight at no longer being in his barren jar. Fangmeyer was still roaring with laughter and stood, unknowingly, in Judy’s way.

“STOP THAT CRICKET!!” Was the bunny’s war call, her face once again set in a determined scowl, glass jar clutched to her small frame. Her sudden cry sobered Fangmeyer, who looked towards her voice and was treated to a blur of grey.

Judy jumped high with a yell, causing the tigress to shriek and drop to a crouch. The doe bounced off her head and landed neatly on her other side just as the fox kit came running out to join in the pursuit.

“Carrots! I got a net!” The kit wore a triumphant grin, the net Bogo had used nearly twice his size and awkward in his small paws. His face fell when he saw only the tigress. She pointed in the direction Judy, Henry, and Wolford had gone and the small kit’s face once again lit up.

The fox took off as fast a he could, the overly large net he held throwing his balance off. Fangmeyer started to laugh again at the sight of his antics but was cut off when the net clipped her head as he waddled past.

“WAIT FOR ME! WAIT FOR ME! WAIT FOR ME………!!!!”

Rubbing her now throbbing head, Claudia Fangmeyer stood and mentally debated following him. She snorted as she watched him run away, tripping over everything as he struggled to keep hold of the net. She winced as she heard crashing and shrieks, followed by the distant voice of Judy demanding Henry return to his jar.

Better go before they hurt themselves, she thought with a sigh.

…………………

Meeting was not an accurate word to use for the group running laps around the cabins. Of the ten mammals making up the security team, only half were running. These were the mammals who had been on duty the night before. Bogo had assigned them to night watch as a means to keep the grounds free of not only trespassers, but to keep little wandering bunnies from sneaking out at night.

After finding out his detail had been lax in their patrolling, grouping together instead of spreading out, playing cards, snacking and otherwise just goofing off, the buffalo radiated fury. Had they been doing their jobs, Judy may have never made it out the window. So running laps was only the tip of the iceberg for the slackers on his team.

“I’m giving you lot five seconds to start running. If I don’t think you’re running fast enough, I have a very good way of speeding you up.” Their boss had not raised his voice, but merely paced in front of the five who had failed him. Stopping off just behind them, the guilty mammals held their breaths and gulped. His sudden shout had them all leaping into action. “FIVE SECONDS IS UP!”

They took off in a mad dash with a furious buffalo chasing them. Though he didn’t chase them for long, none were brave enough to double check. Satisfied, Bogo straightened himself out before leaving them to their laps. Pretending not to see Wolford running, head craned to look behind him, full tilt towards his fellow guards.

The cricket was getting closer. Not purposely, though……… Right?

“ARRRGGGGGG!! The little beast CAN sense fear!!! HELPPPPP!”

Wolford had dove headlong into the path of the running mammals, being nearly trampled by them in his hast to escape Henry. His panic only increased theirs, a couple of whom were still not aware that Bogo had left.

Added to his shrieks of “A murderous devil after me to murder me!” was the sound of one of their young charges who had been dashing after the wolf’s pursuer.

“Warrior Judy Hopps in pursuit!” The little bunny chased after the still fleeing cricket.”Whoop, whoop!”

The group demonstrated an impressive herd like mentality of changing directions and stampeding away from the over enthusiastic kit. Henry bounced and leaped after them.

Following up as fast as he little legs could go, Nick still carried the large net. While he ran, he tried to reposition it and practice swinging. This just upset his balance even further. The net weighing him down, the little fox didn’t see the slight dip in the path which caused him to trip.

And he would have landed face down if not for Fangmeyer. The tigress scooped him up before he landed, relieving him of his burden, and placed him on her shoulders as she joined the chase for Henry.

……………………..

The kits Francine had been teaching were divided into their litters again. Each given a separate task fitting of their age to complete, they talked and argued and laughed almost themselves to complete them. Walking between the groups, the vixen observed quietly and answered questions, barely noticing when Lady Hopps came to the doorway.

The doe watched happily as her kits went about their tasks for a few moments before crossing the room towards their governess.

“A good morning to you, Lady Hopps!” Francine smiled at her employer as they both walked amongst the kits hard at work. “Such diligent little bunnies you have raised. They all have been a delight.”

“Bonnie, please, Francine. Indeed, it’s almost too calm without Judith in the room. It makes me wonder how she and Nick are fairing with Mr.Bogo.”

With a sigh and glance upwards, Francine placed her hand over heart dramatically before replying, “No news is good news, Bonnie. The amount of mischief my Nicholas gets into here makes me happy we are away from Zootopia. It may have been ten fold there.”

As if on cue, a loud crash sounded from just outside the window. Both females turned their heads to the sound and every small pair of ears stood ridged and honed to where it came from. Multiple eyes narrowed in curiosity as another crash followed. The sudden appearance of a group of frightened security guards, running as though they were on fire, startled those in the room.

Francine and Bonnie darted to the window for a better look, the kits shouting with excitement close behind them.

Covered in in dirt, looking as though they had been running through the compost pile, Bunnyburrow’s finest and bravest were lead by a still terrified Wolford. The group scrambled by and were gone out of sight as quickly as they appeared. Followed by what looked to be a cricket.

Both mothers sighed and exchanged glances as the kits giggled and exploded questions at their mother and teacher. But all was interrupted as Judy came into view, still holding the jar and pausing to catch her breath. She wasn’t stopped for long before Fangmeyer jogged past and scooped her up with her free paw and placed her on the shoulder opposite Nick. Every kit whooped in delight and cheered the tigress on as the trio continued after the group.

Francine buried her head in her paw and wished she could evaporate into thin air. The kits, all with exceptional hearing, chanted what they heard their sister cry out before she was swept away: “CATCH THE CRICKET! CATCH THE CRICKET!” And they all promptly darted for the door.

The two flabbergasted females, exchanged another glance at each other then towards where the kits had vanished through the door. Francine was sure her first day was her last. But a strange choking noise caught her attention.

Bonnie was laughing into her paws and obviously trying not to. Every time it seemed as though she would let up, the doe would once again dissolve into giggles. Finally, she composed herself, wiped her eyes, and gave the worried vixen her usual friendly smile.

“Tea?”

…………………………….

Lord Hopps sat in his study, gazing out the window at the peaceful grounds of his estate. He took much pride in this property. Though his title was inherited, the land he owned was cultivated by himself. And his hard work and solid judgment concerning the produce the estate grew showed in the form of a very, very handsome bank account.

He gave a soft sigh of contentment as he allowed himself to forget the ledgers and paperwork on the desk just behind him. He even allowed himself to forget about the family of foxes that had spent the evening in his home. Bad enough his small daughter sneaks out windows, now his wife is inviting a bunny’s natural enemy to sleep a mere corridor away from his offspring.

But he didn’t think of that now. For now he just enjoyed the warmth of the sun through the window. And appreciated the sight of humble bumble bees and butterflies kissing the flowers his wife had insisted on planting on the side of the house. As well as the view of rubbish covered wolves running for dear life before stumbling and being overwhelmed by a herd of other mammals………….

Stewart Hopps jumped out of his chair as Wolford landed and winced as the security team tripped and fell upon him, one after another. Soon the grey wolf was out of view under the bodies of his comrades, though he fought to push his head from the pile. Just in time for what looked to be a bouncing black dot work it’s way over the the groaning mammals.

It seemed to stop on Wolford’s muzzle, his eyes going cross he tried to focus on it. And then he promptly fainted. Lord Hopps’ own eyes went large at the scene, his ears up at their fullest and flushed red, with his jaw unhinged. A paw went to the pressure point at his neck and checked his pulse. Surely this is cause for a heart attack.

Childish shouts of glee brought his attention to the tigress who came into view, jogging and carrying a net. His kit jumped from Fangmeyer’s shoulder as her new friend, Nathan or some other, pointed and shouted in excitement, sparking another pang in his blood pressure. He watched her follow the same route the dot had taken before throwing herself onto Wolford’s head. It was done so quickly, that Fangmeyer had also dove onto the pile of mammals with the net swinging. The bunny kit, odd little dot, and the wolf’s head were effectively captured.

The lord sat back into his chair, paw still at his throat. No heart attack. Yet.

He puzzled over the scene in front of him, vaguely aware of Marty setting a glass down next to him. The stopper of the whiskey decanter was removed and the impala poured a generous shot. Marty was just finishing the pour when Stewart’s paw pushed the neck of the decanter back down.

The heavy single shot went more then double it’s size before he allowed his valet to recap the whiskey. And with the same now trembling paw, the glass was brought up and it’s contents thrown back in spite of the burning cough it produced.

We are going to need more whiskey, thought Marty. A lot more.

………………….

Judy was smooshed onto the head of Ian Wolford, paws firmly keeping Henry in place as she lay under the net. She was nervous about squishing him and had dropped the jar in her haste. She was also aware of the groans just behind her, each one sounding both pained and exhausted.

Her eyes moved from where she had the cricket trapped to between her arms at the unconscious wolf.

“Mr. Wolf? Are you all right?” She asked hesitantly. “Oh, Mrrrr.Wooooolfffffff?”

“Judy! Judy! Is he dead?!?! Is he?” Nick had managed to cling to Fangmeyers shirt when she dove and now stood perched on her back. His ears upright and tail swishing nervously behind, little paws twisted with worry as he looked down at his friend tangled in the butterfly net.

His attention was soon captured by the jar laying off to the side of the mammal pile. With little regard to whose head or limb or stomach he used, the fox kit used the jumps he learned from Judy to reach the ground and retrieve it.

“All this for a cricket?” Asked Fangmeyer as she tried to slide off her fellow guards.

“It’s not just A cricket. It’s OUR cricket!” The tigress lifted the net cautiously, allowing Judy to raise her ears to show her indignation. “Mr. Bogo left us in charge of him. We have to keep him……..uuuhhhhhhhh……”

“Alive and heady and hermit!” Nick finished proudly as he held the jar up for Henry to return to. Fangmeyer laughed as she straightened herself out and began untangling the others.

“I said healthy, happy, and alive.” The gruff voice brought everyone, with the exception of Wolford, to a rush to pull themselves together. The kits leapt for each other to avoid be crushed as the guards lined themselves up in front of their boss. Bits of vegetable waste and mud covered the exhausted five Bogo had set up for laps. The buffalo’s eyes wandered over them, before settling on the wolf who remained prone on the ground.

“Fangmeyer, please escort him to his bunk.” The tigress gave a short nod to her boss before reaching the wolf and throwing him over her shoulder. Catching the eyes of the kits, she smiled and nodded at them both as they waved and thanked her. One sharp turn of her heel had Fangmeyer heading back the way they all came, towards the dwellings.

“Miss Hopps and Mr. Wilde. Come forward please.” Nick and Judy walked to stand in front of the line guards, any earlier enthusiasm all but vanished at the sight of Bogo staring down at them. “How’s Henry?”

Nick held up the jar to show off one alive, healthy, though still slightly irritated cricket. Bogo accept the offering into his hoof, studying the insect inside longer than needed. Just to make the two little kits sweat. Bogo turned his impassive gaze back to them.

“He escaped.” Bogo did not ask. One look at the estate grounds held the statement true. Judy and Nick opened their mouths to explain only to be silenced by the other hoof.

“He escaped and I’m glad to see you did all you could to bring him back. But it was nerve racking, yes?” Both nodded franticly. “Imagine. One move too slow, and he would have been lost forever. Maybe a bird would have gotten him. Maybe he would have jumped too high and landed wrong on one of his little legs. He could have broken one.”

Dark eyes went to and from each kit. Judy’s ears dropped back as she considered what could have happened to the cricket they were asked to care for. Stealing a glance at Nick, with his paws holding his tail and ears flat on his head as his eyes widened up at Bogo, she knew he was thinking the same.

“She could have been snatched by another mammal. Could have gotten turned around and fallen into the lake. I know she is not a very good swimmer. There is also a ravine. That would have been a nasty fall. Or perhaps she could have found her way to the marshlands. They are not far far from here. They start very suddenly. And claim a young life just as quickly.”

Judy ducked her head as she felt herself tremble in shame.

“I want you to remember what you felt when you saw Henry get away from you. Because it’s only a fraction of the panic and worry we felt last night when you snuck out. And, Mr. Wilde, I hear you found Miss Hopps on your own. Is that correct?”

Nick gave a small nod.

“Meaning you, too, snuck away?” Another small nod. “Need I go over this lesson again?” Two small heads gave two small shakes. “Very good.” The jar was suddenly upended. The cricket fell to the ground, seemingly shocked for a brief moment, before frantically turning and jumping towards the flower bushes for cover.

The five mammals who had been on guard duty watched the scene unfold. They exchanged dark glances with each other and glared at the two kits in front of them. Each watched the cricket disappear with confusion before Bogo addressed them in clear sharp voice.

“And let this be a lesson to you lot.” The buffalo’s words brought them to attention. “Your job here is to keep this family safe. To keep all on these grounds secure. If I find out you have neglected your duties again, I will have you run out of this town. Or worse, ” Bogo made eye contact with each one before allowing a small smile grace his face, “I’ll give you babysitting duty.”

Each mammal looked horrified as they glanced down at the bewildered faces of Nick and Judy then back to their boss.

“Now get this property back in order! Then clean and rest yourselves for guard duty tonight. Dismissed!”

Bogo watched his team frantically run to the farm sheds to grab what was needed to clean up the grounds. The chase had ran through training grounds, employee dwellings, three compost piles, over the herb garden (crushing a third of them), and into Fredrick’s prized cucumber patch. The angry badger was at the moment packing his bags and seeking out Lord Hopps to tender his resignation.

But that is a concern for another time.

From under the hydrangea bush, two beady eyes watched the large mammal bend itself towards the two smaller ones before it turned to leave. The Nick and the Carrots raised their shoulders at each other before the Carrots mentioned something called t. The Nick seemed to agree, saying it was hungry.

And that caused Henry to groan.

#zootopia #nick and judy #au-alternatemeeting #wolford #fangmeyer #mr wilde mrs wilde bonnie hopps au-alternate meeting