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collecting-stories · 3 years

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Forevermore - c. 06 - JJ Maybank

Summary: With your parents away, JJ spends some quality time at your house.

A/N: Sorry there was a longer gap between these chapters.

You Are Ok Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

✞ I never really ever, ever felt so at home before ✞

Your parents had a long list of rules that dictated every waking moment of your house. Rules that told you what to wear, what to eat, what to read, what to watch, who to spend time with. But one rule that had never even been added to the list was “no boys in the house”. It had never been necessary before, no boys at all was the general and, always upheld, rule for you and your sisters. Telling you not to allow them in the house didn’t even seem like a possibility to your parents and probably never would’ve seemed like a possibility to you if you hadn’t met JJ.

Timothy left on the weekend, promising to be back for your birthday in a month, and your parents left the day after, headed to South Carolina for a couples’ church retreat that your father was guest lecturing at. You had convinced your father, before you had even met JJ, that you could stay alone for the short week that they would be gone. Though technically, now, you weren’t alone.

“Okay, we’re starting with the basics.” JJ announced, carrying a bowl of popcorn and two sodas into the living room, setting them down on the coffee table. You were sitting on the couch, blanket wrapped around your body, a baggy t-shirt serving as clothing because you didn’t want to wear a dress but didn’t have any pajama pants or shorts to wear.

“What qualifies as ‘the basics’?” you asked, opening your blanket enough that JJ could get underneath with you, pulling your legs over his lap. He’d borrowed Pope’s laptop to watch movies with you, since your parents didn’t own any sort of technology, television included. Your parents had phones and there was a landline but that was about as far as it went.

“Disney movies, even I’ve seen disney movies.” JJ replied, though admittedly it had been later in his childhood that he’d seen them. “We’ll start with my personal favorite...actually, not a disney movie just an animated movie, whatever...it’s called Balto.”

“Is that a dog?” You stared at the screen as JJ clicked on the icon for the movie.

“Yeah, it’s a movie about a sled dog.”

“A sled dog?” You laughed, brushing his hair back so that you could kiss him before the movie started and he shushed you to listen. Your hand went to the back of his head, your eyes on the TV as you ran your fingers through the hair at the nap of his neck, absentmindedly leaning into him more.

JJ had brought a whole backpack to your house, stuffed with clothes for the long weekend that both of you fully intended for him to spend at your house. Ever since you had mentioned the trip to JJ, and the possibility of him staying, you had been thinking of the implications of that. What expectations did he have for the week? You thought about asking him directly, or even asking Kiara or Pope, surely they would be able to tell you something about the girls that JJ dated before you.

It wasn’t like you had any illusions about them. You weren’t jealous or insecure about any of his past girlfriends, or hook-ups. John B had indicated that JJ had never really done the ‘dating thing’ before you, which had you wondering what exactly he might expect out of you before you realized that he really didn’t expect anything. But whether he’d dated anyone seriously in the past or not, and whether that should have intimidated you or not, you were fairly neutral about it. JJ was your boyfriend and he loved you, he’d said so, and you weren’t worried about anyone else.

“You know I’ve never watched a cartoon before?” You chanced mentioning, whispering the words to him as the dog on screen talked. There were a lot of things you hadn’t done before meeting JJ.

Some things you weren’t interested in. The smoking didn’t bother you but you had no desire to try it, you’d given beer one go at a party that JJ snuck you out to but it tasted disgusting and you had nearly spit it back out. You’d tried soda and coffee and fast food and a slurpee from the 7-11 near the pawn shop. You wore jeans and a dress that was far more revealing that you’d ever considered a dress could be, and a bathing suit. You had let Kiara do your makeup and you liked it but weren’t terribly interested in doing it again. There were physical things too, just sitting next to JJ was something you had never done before, let alone kissing him.

You thought about sex but hadn’t mentioned it to JJ, unsure if you should. The only sex talk you’d ever gotten from your mom had been when she told you that premarital sex was the ultimate sin and women who engaged in it ended up with unwanted babies. The basic understanding you’d come away with was that sex was intended simply to produce children for your family and to keep your husband happy and that he would, inevitably, guide you through it. You had trouble imagining Timothy guiding you through anything even remotely intimate.

It wasn’t that you didn’t feel comfortable bringing up the subject to JJ it was just that you weren’t sure you were supposed to. You’d thought about asking Kiara but then felt kind of embarrassed about it, would she understand or think it was lame that you were asking about sex with her best friend. You weren’t even sure you were ready to have sex with him, whatever ready meant.

“You okay?” JJ asked, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, “you kinda zoned out.” He’d answered you about the cartoon thing but when you said nothing else he’d looked over, only to find you staring at the TV almost trance like.

“Just thinking.” You replied. He had put the movie on cause it was his favorite and you wanted to watch it with him but you couldn’t help your mind from going haywire the longer you sat there.

“Anything you wanna share with the class?” JJ asked, tucking the blanket around you more when you leaned into him.

“I don’t know,” you really weren’t sure. You assumed, figured, he must know that you’d never had sex. It had to have crossed his mind at least once. Was he waiting for you to mention it to him? Was he just waiting to mention it or was he uninterested?

JJ nodded slowly, tilting his head down to press a kiss against your collar where the large shirt had slipped to one side. You look at the TV screen, absentmindedly worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. JJ’s hand on your thigh returned some sense of gravity to you, drawing your attention away from Balto’s quest and back toward your boyfriend who was watching you with the sweetest blue eyes you’d ever seen.

“What do you think about us having sex?” You asked suddenly, the overwhelming urge to confront the elephant in your head making you blurt out the first thing that came to mind.

To his benefit, JJ looked somewhat startled by the question. It wasn’t one anyone had ever asked him before. He’d dated before and definitely had sex before, but he’d never had an actual conversation about it, not like that. “I uh, did you want to?” JJ asked, clearing his throat a little uncomfortably. He wasn’t completely sure what to say. He had definitely thought about having sex with you, he spent a lot of time thinking about you.

“I don’t know...” you repeated, shrugging. “My mom told me having sex before marriage was evil. But she says that about kissing too.” You replied, pressing a kiss to his lips as an example.

“I don’t know about evil,” he laughed, “John B’s a little more sentimental than me when it comes to sex but...I mean, you shouldn’t do anything you don’t want to.”

“I’m not really sure if I want to or not, I don’t have any experience...” you admitted, “it’s easy, with small stuff like soda and pants but, it’s harder to separate what I believe with what my parents believe when it’s stuff like that. I spent so many years being told that sex is something sacred for a husband and wife but...I don’t know if that’s something I truly believe.”

JJ leaned his forehead against yours, kissing your cheek. “I would never, ever do anything you didn’t want to.”

“I know that.” You replied. “Sorry for ruining Balto.”

“That’s okay, now whenever I watch it, I’ll just think of you wanting to have sex with me.” JJ teased, squeezing your leg just above your knee and making you laugh. You pressed a kiss to JJ’s neck, hiding your face so he couldn’t see you.

“I love you.” You mumbled, lips brushing against his skin as you spoke.

He tightened his grip on your waist, pulling you as close to him as he could, practically onto his lap as he kissed your forehead, “I love you too.” He replied.

You practically jumped off his lap when a knock sounded on the kitchen door, “shoot,” you huffed, closing the laptop as JJ stood up.

“Who is it?” He asked, already grabbing the soda bottles and popcorn.

“It’s Josiah. He promised my dad he would stop over and check on me.” You explained, keeping your voice down as you grabbed a skirt from the laundry off the kitchen, pulling it up, “go in my room.”

“They sent your brother over? I can’t believe your parents’ don’t trust you.”

“I literally have a boy in the house!” You whispered, shoving him down the hall toward your room.

The minute you heard your bedroom door shut you went to the kitchen, letting Josiah in, “sorry, I had the door locked,” you said, hugging your brother as he stepped through the door.

“That’s alright, I forgot my key anyway. What’re you up to?” He asked, walking further into the house.

“Laundry, mostly, I finished some homework for mom.” You shrugged, crossing your arms under your chest and glancing down the hall. “So yeah, just hanging out.”

“Man, it’s so quiet here without anyone else.” Josiah commented, “used to be loud no matter what.”

“Oh yeah, but that was all Eli and Robert.” You replied, “I was always an angel.”

He laughed, “yeah sure.”

Josiah hung around for close to an hour, helping himself to left-over dinner in the fridge and talking about his kids with you, before he finally decided that it was getting late and that you were okay to spend the rest of the night by yourself. By that point you were almost 100% positive that JJ had probably skipped out. You would’ve definitely skipped out if you had to spend an hour sitting in someone’s bedroom while they talked about kids with their older brother. Once you’d locked the door behind your brother you headed to your room, expecting to find it empty. Instead, JJ was sitting there on the top bunk of the beds, reading your KJV bible.

“You really love that top bunk huh?” You laughed, closing your bedroom door behind you.

“Absolutely.” He replied, “this stuff is crazy, by the way.”

“King James is...difficult to understand.” You said, pulling off the skirt you’d put on when Josiah got there and climbing up the ladder to the bunk bed. “I’m not sleeping up here with you, by the way. I have a perfectly good bed down there.”

He smiled, leaning over to kiss you, “I’m staying over?”

“You told me you were staying over, don’t act like it’s a surprise.” You laughed, nudging his side.

JJ held the book on his lap, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you against him. He set his chin on your shoulder, pushing the book over so that you could see it to. “Here, explain this shit to me.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to call the bible shit.” You said, turning your head so you could kiss him. “I like this.”

“Sitting on the top bunk?” JJ asked.

You rolled your eyes, “I mean, getting to spend time with you like this. Not having to worry about my parents or anything.”

“We should keep doing this.” he replied, “my dad’s got a boat, the Phantom...I’m gonna take it after graduation and head down the coast. You should come with me.”

“Leave? Everything?” You asked. There were only two options and you had known that since you started to develop feelings for JJ. You could break ties with your family and hope that this thing with JJ was real enough to survive or you could walk away from him and marry Timothy and move to Nashville.

“I know it’s a...a lot.” JJ said, “but I just want you to be happy.”

“I am, right now.”

“Think about it. We could figure things out, find work somewhere.” He suggested, kissing your shoulder.

You smiled, leaning into him more but not replying. Your gut reaction was to agree immediately, say that you wanted to go with him anywhere but you didn’t want to rush into anything. This week would be enough for right now.

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rosesmith18 · 3 years

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(PnF) Headcanon #11 Thomarie Nitpicks #2 Pt.1 Clothing

This is sort of a sister post to post #6 & #7, it mentions characters from post #6, and is connected to my current series of post about the problems I have with the MnT(Marie and Thomas) Universe. I want to make it clear that I like these characters...to an extent, but to another extent I don't. I want the best for them as they were a big part of my childhood, and so in this post I want to make some tweaks to their clothing and personalities, as I find them currently sporadic and dated.

*Disclaimer: The MnT Universe is centered around (OC)Maria Flynn & (OC)Thomas Fletcher. Marie belongs to angelus19 & sam-ely-ember deviantart. Thomas Belongs to Melty64.

Maria's Child Clothing: Okay, so a lot of people have made the claim that Maria's design is generic which I will not deny. It's a blatant ripe off of her mothers clothes with a change of color palette, and while I enjoy the idea of Phineas designing her clothes to be that way, it's a waste of potential(as are most things I will mention in this post). Maria canonically adores France, and in my headcanon was born there, so I think some Parisian style could be added to this design. I'd draw instead of writing about this, but I have no artistic talent. For starters, based on my research(as I myself am not French)puffed sleeves are a common occurrence in French clothing culture, so giving Marie puffed sleeves in place of her mothers regular ones would be nice. Instead of basic shoes, ankle boots are also a common item in French clothing followed by white and/or black tights. Now, ironically enough the style of belt Isabella has on her clothes is similar to a French Skinny belt called a Maison Boinet, so just change it from being one color to a light brown with a metal clip, and it can stay-as can the main outfit. Lastly, to quote https://leoncechenal.com/french-girl-style-guide/ 'And I think the ultimate goal of all French girls is to find their own style (what they like and what they don’t) and to stick to it.', so in summary this doesn't need to look perfect or fancy it just needs to look natural.

Maria's Teen Clothing: Okay, this one is even worse in my opinion, but the whole one color thing is killing me! So, for this I did a COMPLETE recall and came up with this; A purple beret, orange bow wrapped around her neck mimicking a Parisian scarf, dressed in an orange & purple horizontal striped sweater dress that hangs off her shoulders, and a pair of black single buckle ballet flats. She would have a gold chain-link belt to replace her Maison Boinet one, a cameo necklace of the Virgin Mary, and a gold choker with small bells. Based on my research actual Beret's aren't that common in French culture anymore, though ironically striped shirts and dresses are, but Marie's is canonically the one her mother wore in the episode 'Summer Belongs to You' and familial connection is super important to Maria-so I decided to keep it. I kept her Garcia-Shapiro bow as I am appalled they tried to get rid of Isabella's in AYA(Act your Age)! Vivian clearly still has her from when she was young, and I believe every Garcia-Shapiro who wants one should keep them to some extent throughout their life! Off shoulder tops and dresses are pretty common in France as are sweaters, so I gave Maria an off shoulder sweater dress. And, ballet flats are some of the most common footwear for woman in France, they have many styles like the single buckle that don't actually look like ballet flats we American's would usually associate with ballet. The jewelry wore by French woman is wore all the time, and is rarely below the quality of 10-carrot gold. Layering necklaces of different sizes such as a cameo necklaces and a choker is normal, and chain-link belts are considered appropriate for any and every outfit. Chokers are a bit longer than some might expect them to be, and I went with a cameo necklace of the Virgin Mary as I headcanon Maria to be a serious Jew. Lastly, make-up in the French world is some of the most neutral in color and shade, so I gave Maria a soft pink lip and nose bridge blush at best.

Thomas' Child Clothing: I heavily dislike Thomas' child design. It lacks any personality in my opinion when compared to Ferbs or Vanessa's. I appreciate that it isn't a ripe off like Marie's, but that doesn't make it good or interesting. Also, this ties into my biggest problem with Thomas, but he's too...boyish. There is nothing wrong with having a practically boyish character, but that kind of personality and style is better used on a character intended to be boyish, and not characters who happen to be boys. I mean Thomas is the son of one of the most headcanon'd nonbinary characters in the whole show, and one of the most headcanon'd bisexual's in the whole show. This is why I mentioned these characters being a bit dated. They definitely came out before LGBTQ+ representation became popular in the fandom-at least compared to the extent of today. So, for Thomas I want to propose a few heavy changes to his child design, starting with...SKIRTS. I petition Thomas to have an either black & white(or purple and green), plaid skirt that reaches his knees. This style of skirt is popular in both British and German(Drusselstein) clothing culture, and is something his family would so support! I mean the potential Thomas has for normalizing clothing as gender neutral is being completely wasted! A white polo shirt inspired by his fathers and his original design underneath. A tweed blazer-of the same color scheme-which is considered always in style in Britain, and the Haferlschuh which are the most popular type of shoe found in Germany-and suit any outfit. Add some tracht socks in white and you have the perfect style!

Thomas' Teen Clothing: This design wasn't horrible, I actually quite like the overall vibe it was going for, but it's not specific enough. I don't find this design to be more than a vibe; It doesn't go deeper than that when it could. So, I summarized it into this; Ripped up, leather pants, sleeveless, white turtleneck, high-heeled, black boots, and to top it all off a trench coat and leather satchel. Considering Thomas is the lead singer and bass guitarist for a classic/heavy rock band I think some ripped leather pants with a bell bottom are perfect. I kept the sleeveless, white classic turtleneck that came from his original design as I do think it's appropriate. I also wanted to pay homage to his mothers almost iconic heels by giving Thomas a similar pair himself; A pair of black, over the knee boots, with a stiletto heel. The trench coat MADE his original design, and the traditional leather satchel is a perfect accent to it, both are British classics in the world of fashion.

Thomas' Rock Outfit: I'm added a subsection for Thomas' clothes as we NEED to talk about his band outfit. I want to say this first, I don't like the original name for the band. Clair is a generic name that doesn't sound too rock-ish in my opinion. It's supposed to represent Maria as it is a French girls name, but it's too simple for someone like Thomas. So, I changed it to Église des Gémeaux which represents Maria in more ways. The name literally translate to Church of Gemini from French to English. It represents Maria's French heritage, her connection to her Jewish Religious roots, and contains a reference to her birth month of June-her birth sign Gemini. The band in itself is canonically represented by The Spill Canvas which is an American Alternative rock band which I also changed. I gave the band a more Eisbrecher/Queen style as Thomas is German(Drusselstein)/British. Eisbrecher is a German Neue Deutsche Härte rock band(translating to New German Hardness aka Industrial Rock), and most of us know Queen the British rock band known for helping to start the rock genre making them a Classic rock band. Major headcanon to this band I want to add, Thomas primarily sings in German(Drusselstein) as he himself has a heavy German(Drusselstein)/British accent. His canonical outfit is a leather top similar to his mothers teenage attire, some basic jeans, and some black boots. I have rewritten this design as such; Ripped up, bell bottom, leather pants, long-sleeve, purple, deep V-neck top, covered by a studded, leather jacket, and keeping his pair of black, over the knee boots, with a stiletto heel. Accent this outfit with some studded, leather cuff bracelets, silver chain choker, and industrial piercing as well as some crescent moon 2nd/Upper lobe piercings. Now, the style of rock/punk is highly personal and changes heavily from generation to generation, but as someone whose family is highly involved in the antique business; It can be expected that Thomas would have a classic rock style inspired by the band he loves such as Eisbrecher, Queen, The Rolling Stones, Mozart L'Opéra rock, Amon Düül II, etc. Some of the elements of his outfit repeat such as his pants and heels, though his deep V-neck is inspired by a picture of Queen. His studded jacket is inspired by MANY rockers of the past. And, his jewelry has a very punk aesthetic. His make-up can be expected to be heavy with intense eyeliner, mascaras, and aided with a plum lip to match his V-neck. While I do enjoy the Grunge style take for Fred & Xavier; I personally find it underwhelming for someone such as Thomas.

I'll end the post here for now as it's getting pretty long. I'll make a post about personality changes at a later point(likely my next post). If you have any questions, comments, etc about what changes I've made feel free to share them! If you have any expertise with French, German, British, or Rock attire and believe I've been misinformed than please tell me! I remind you I am not an expert on fashion, character design, and am only aware of American trends. These changes are entire based on what knowledge is available to me, and my own personal feelings about clothes and characters, but I'm open to learning! I apologize if my opinions come off as harsh, I am merely opinionated about things I enjoy, but I hold no ill-will towards anyone who thinks differently. At the end of the day, I don't own Marie or Thomas or Phineas and Ferb, and am merely expressing my freedom to make or suggest changes. I encourage anyone reading this post to do the same, and be has intense as you feel, of course WITHOUT being insulting of the people you disagree with. Thank you!

#phineas and ferb #marie and thomas #headcanon #oc #clothing #marie flynn #thomas fletcher #phineas flynn #isabella garcia shapiro #ferb fletcher #vanessa doofenshmirtz #next gen #phinbella #ferbnessa #pnf

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hopeless-nostalgiac · 5 years

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Blessing: Tiva Fic

Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing. Summary: Tony was under the impression this was a courtesy. More courtesy than Eli deserved, at that. Nothing more. Established Tiva. A/N: Let me how you liked it, if you’re so inclined. :) Also, this is a stand alone for now, but maybe not forever.

Tags? Idk who wants one anymore. @classydepablo @loudlooks @youaresoooloved @coffeedepablo @mcgeekle

Ff.net

They started up the staircase, in sync as usual, but apart. Then Ziva reached for his hand. That half-second seeking him out, drawing him close, wanting him with her—well, it was everything. Their serendipitous first meeting to the phone call they were about to make, life snapped vividly to alignment with the simple gesture.

It made Tony feel like a total jerk.

For the past week, he’d been secretly hoping Gibbs or the director—heck, SecNav—would put the kibosh on the plan. Using government property for personal communications was against some NCIS rule, right? But Ziva had made the request, Vance had honored the strange position he occupied in the David family mosaic by approving it, and now—

Tony would have her six, his own doubts be damned. They were in this, every step, together.

Despite their joined hands, he jogged to keep up with her. “You ready?”

“Yes.” Her mouth sealed flat again after the rushed utterance. Open. “Are you?” Shut.

“I was born ready!”

An arched eyebrow broke rank with her guarded expression, questioning his enthusiasm.

“White Lightning. 1973. Gator McKlusky. ‘The good, they die young!’ Not Burt Reynolds’s best, but it--”

“Tony.”

“Right. Focus. Got it.”

Was her palm slick with nerves, or his? Probably both. The deserted office at their backs, they stepped onto the platform. Ziva unlocked the door with her eye. A technician dialed the Tel Aviv number. They were doing this. They were commandeering MTAC for a chat with the Director of Mossad.

“Abba?”

Oh, and Ziva’s father. One in the same guy.

Static hissed and popped on the wall-to-wall screen.

“Abba? Can you hear us—”

“Ziva, there is no need to shout. I am here.” Out of the snow, from across the world, emerged an old man. Older than two years should have aged him. More white than grey around the temples; deeper lines etched into sun-leathered skin. A milder gaze? Maybe it was the spotty satellite connection. A zebra didn’t change his stripes, especially if the zebra was Eli David.

“Shalom, Abba.”

“Shalom, my daughter. You look well.”

No thanks you!

Tony kept the snark to himself, despite the awkward pause—a clarion call to his defensive humor. The silence was punctuated only by beeps and whirs of technology on their side; the director seemed to be in a wood-paneled study, alone.

The corners of Ziva’s mouth twitched. Reflex, not sentiment. “Thank you.”

Eli nodded and did not force her hesitancy, instead shifted his focus. “I see Agent DiNozzo is joining us.”

Tony ignored the displeasure in the elder’s tone. “Eli, hi. It’s been awhile. Is that a new tan?”

Her fingers flexed and tightened within in his grip. Behave. “We apologize for the early hour there. I wished to speak to you before Shabbat.”

“How thoughtful of you, but it is no trouble. With age comes a new routine. I am up before the sun most days.”

“So that’s where Ziva gets it.” Tony released a reckless, nervous stream of chuckles. “For running, you know? She gets up early, too, t-to do that.” His eyes darted between the Davids. Neither seemed amused.

Eli coughed, clearing dust and gravel. Years of barking orders had caught up to him, if not the cigars. “Ziva owes her discipline to us. The Mossad’s training.”

Us?

So sharp was the scoff, it scored Tony’s throat on the way out. He’d tried to be civil, for Ziva. He really had. And it’d lasted a whopping two minutes. Who said miracles didn’t happen?

“Ah, I see how it is. You’re all about taking credit, Eli, but what about the blame? Where should that fall?”

There was no trick of the connection. Shadows sliced across the older man’s face. His mouth flattened. He leaned in, dominating the frame. “Tread carefully, Agent DiNozzo. You understand little of what you accuse me.”

“I understand plenty. What I don’t get is how you—her father, in case that’s somehow slipped your mind—couldn’t spare a few agents from your stable to rescue your only living child from that God-forsaken—”

“That does not concern you,” Eli roared.

“The hell is doesn’t!”

Ziva threw up her arms, as if keeping them from a physical fight. “Enough, both of you. Abba.” She regarded his looming figure with her spine tall, chin high. Ever the soldier. “Tony and I are engaged. That is why we have contacted you. We will be married in October.”

From Eli’s reaction, she might have given him the weather forecast. Mostly overcast, a chance of storms. His features, wrinkles, emotion smoothed banal. Even his words lacked feeling. “I suppose I should not be surprised.”

“Actually, it’s pronounced congratulations,” Tony gritted out, signalling to the technician. “Shalom, Eli.”

The oversized screen returned to static, and Ziva rounded on him. “Why did you do that?”

He gaped. “Seriously? You need me to explain?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. Your dad was being an ass, babe.”

“You baited him,” she challenged, chin thrusting.

“And he took it.” Hazel eyes blazed into hers. “He knows what he did to you.”

Her gaze returned fire. “This was not about getting a confession. I knew he would not... I was only trying to—”

“What? What do you need?” Tony stepped closer, sliding his hand over the silk of her shirt to her waist. He was under the impression this was a courtesy. More courtesy than Eli deserved, at that. Nothing more.

Ziva glanced up at him—there and gone. A puff of her coconut and honey shampoo wafted in the draft. “It does not matter now.” Then she was striding, fast, for the door.

But he saw it. Glimpsed in that half-glance, before she tore herself away from him: the spring and run of a single, plump tear across her cheek.

The pang of guilt struck, silvery and cold like the remnants of adrenaline in his veins, as they left the Navy Yard. It festered in his gut, fed by her silence and straight stare on the drive north through the evening glow.

A console separated them, mere inches, yet Tony bit his tongue. Literally. Forcing a conversation would stoke the embers of her mood, or be cut off with monosyllabic rebukes. The therapist would approve of them “de-escalating” before talking it out, but all he wanted was to fix this. Peeks at his partner’s reflection in the car window fanned his frustration. The glare of passing streetlamps illuminated not anger in her face, that beautiful face he fell asleep gazing into each night, but a crater of desolate ache.

Eli, you bastard.

He fought the urge to swing the car toward Dulles, hop a plane to Israel, and challenge the spy puppeteer to a ‘conference room’ rematch. He had more than enough ammo—nightmares, anxiety, month-long funks—to go round after round with the heavyweight. And he’d win, too. Again.

“I can hear your teeth grinding, Tony.” Her warm fingers brushed his jaw, bumping along stubble and coiled tension. He unclenched.

“Your suffering in silence is pretty loud, too, Ziva.”

Her hand stilled at his neck, dropping away and folding with its pair in her lap. “I am not suffering. I simply do not have anything else to say.”

Like hell you don’t.

Tony allowed the thread to dangle. They were speaking to each other, though. Sort of. “Well, do you have an opinion on dinner? I’m starvin’ like Lee Marvin.” His upturned fist hovered above the gear shift.

They were in the middle of a rock-paper-scissors tournament, the ultimate loser of which would move his or her possessions across the city into one shared apartment prior to the wedding (he was confident it was going to be her doing the packing).

Smirking, Ziva set. They went three brisk rounds, his rock taking two. She growled; he whooped triumphantly.

“And that makes it DiNozzo 32, David 26.”

“You cheated.”

“I don’t need to cheat,” he countered, keeping an eye on the road. “You’re just a sore loser who’s having Thai tonight.”

A bounce of her shoulders made a noise against the leather seat. “I would have chosen that anyway.”

“How ‘bout you choose where we sleep?” Tony found her thigh in the dark, squeezed. Her muscles tightened in response.

“How about I let you sleep with me tonight?”

Moisture evacuated his mouth. “Your place it is.”

......

One by one, Tony toed off his dress loafers, shed his suit jacket, and loosened the tie knot from his throat. A couple stumbling steps and he collapsed onto the bed, releasing a gargantuan sigh that was part exhaustion, part pillowtop-induced bliss. He’d helped her pick it out, after Somalia, without knowing his future self would someday also reap its benefits.

He dragged his mouth from the duvet. “Ziva!”

Boots grazed the wood floor, closer and closer. Her left hip swerved into view, a sliver of thigh, bare knee, and—yes—all of her. Ziva owed the bedroom doorway, wine glass in hand, glossy ringlets pulled over one shoulder. He was a lucky man.

“Was shouting necessary, Tony?”

“Wherever we end up living, this bed is coming with us.”

Her throaty chuckles electrified the skin on the nape of his neck. “I believe that earns me a point.” She tipped the glass. Ruby liquid rushed forward, greedy for her mouth.

“You wish.” Transfixed, he bit his bottom lip. “That wine looks good.”

“It is.”

“Can I get a taste?”

Ziva set the empty glass on the nightstand, the last drops going down her throat with a deep, visible swallow.

Miffed, if a little turned on, Tony flopped back, tucking an arm under his head. “You need to repeat kindergarten, Da-veed.”

“I am fluent in nine languages—why would I need that?” The bed jostled; some part of her—a soft, yielding part—bumped his knee. Everything below his belt was now tingling.

“I meant you need to learn to, uh, share.” His stance lacked emphasis. Ziva stretched out alongside him, not unlike a Greek goddess on a daybed, plumping her lips, tinted and gently smiling. A lucky man, indeed.

“I do not like to share what I love.”

The brew of her languid words and sweet, heady breath overwhelmed the circuits in his brain that would have furthered their banter, supplied a witty comebacker. All that remained was primal wiring and a longing he often wondered about: how it started under his ribs and spread, a good poison, to the pads of his fingers, the base of his throat, the very bottom of his spine where it gave way to his derrière. His body on her drug.

“Ziva...” Her name danced within the parentheses of their bodies. She answered, leaning, her mouth dead-on aim with his mouth, an infernal latch sealing out air and thought.

His fingers dove through her hair, weaving strands into reigns, while her hands sought a lower destination on his form, eliciting arches and premature thrusts. Always so eager, his Ziva.

Tony said as much, gasped over her jaw, planting a kiss there, too; he wasn’t complaining.

Golden sparks of mischief permeated the midnight of her blown-out pupils. “We must hurry. The food will be here in 30 minutes or less.”

A bout of mutual chuckles overcame them like a rain shower, shocking and head-clearing. For him, at least. Made room for dangling threads...

“Hey, you know what I was thinking?”

Ziva hummed, unbuttoning his shirt and nibbling his neck simultaneously.

“Even if I hadn’t baited Eli—sorry about that, by the way—there was no excuse for how he reacted. ‘I shouldn’t be surprised’ or whatever? I mean, come on, what is that? Not father-of-the-bride material.”

Tony’s rambling had a cooling effect on his fiancée. Her ministrations stalled and she regarded him with a look he knew well. Seriously, now?

“Right. Sorry.” Using the hand tangled in her curls, he coaxed her back, double-kissed her parted lips. “But it’s just that—”

“Tony! I told you, it does not matter,” Ziva huffed, reclaiming her points of contact from his skin.

His grip merely shifted, molding to the side of her face. Keeping her with him. In this, together. “Well, it matters to me because it obviously upset you. We can try calling him again tomorrow, if you want.” Though his teeth might be ground-down stubs by the conversations’ end.

Ziva lapsed into the faraway stare from the ride home, narrowed in on the pattern of his tie, yet somewhere beyond him as well, beyond the bedroom and the apartment that might become theirs, beyond the city itself. Eventually she blinked and spoke toward his chest. “No. That would not change anything. Abba is...Abba.”

“Yeah.”

“He will not change, either.”

“But you still want his blessing,” Tony said, circling the rise of her cheekbone with his thumb.

The corners of her eyes creased as she met his gaze. “Why do you say that?”

“Because for two years you barely mention the guy’s name, unless it’s on the therapist’s couch or in a string of Hebrew I don’t understand. Then we get engaged, and after Gibbs and the team, Eli’s the next person you want to tell the good news.” He wrapped a ringlet around her ear, testing out a smile. “Plus, I am a highly-trained investigator trained to pick up on the subtleties of these things, after all.”

“Perhaps too well trained.” A rueful admission.

Tony preened. “Wow, I was just bluffing.”

Swatting his shoulder, Ziva released a noisy tumble of breath. The creases smoothed. Her lips lifted, as did her hands, sliding his face between the matching hollows of her palms. “You asked me what I need, yes?”

“I did.”

“I need to marry you, Tony DiNozzo, never mind what my father or anyone else thinks. I need you.”

Mingled determination and grace laid bare to him. Only him. He couldn’t look away. Even as his heartbeat took up, pounding out joy and relief where she rested her elbows, steadying herself by him, shuffling into the shadow of his body.

“I can definitely help you with that.” The promise whispered through his painful grin, into her hair—just as the doorbell chimed.

#tiva #tiva fanfiction #ziva david #blessing fic #tat fic #tony dinozzo #ncis #it's a wonder this came together #since i'm teaching summer school and it's bleeding all my time!

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ryqoshay · 5 years

Text

How to Handle a Nico: Futatsumōde

Primary Pairing: NicoMaki Words: ~2.2k Rating: G Time Frame: Winter of Maki’s 2nd year of high school and Nico’s 1st year of college. Story Arc: Stand Alone

Author’s Note: Less than a day left in the first month of the year, so I’m a little late for a New Year’s scene. But I saw an Xmas NicoMaki post earlier this week, so at least I’m not the only one running behind... Also in my defense, I didn’t even see the pic that inspired this scene until halfway through the month.

Anyway, as soon as I saw the official pic posted of NicoMaki going to their hatsumōde, first shrine visit, dressed in adorable kimono, I knew I needed to write about them. I even set the pic as my desktop for the rest of the month. And even though I’ve posted it before, twice, I’ll post it again at the end of the scene for reference, and because it’s just that cute.

Maki was excited. So excited, in fact, she was having trouble remaining still while her mother tied her obi. It felt strange. Being this restless wasn’t normal for her, even when stressed about an upcoming exam or anticipating the next live performance with her fellow school idols.

Was it because she was going to be meeting up with her friends? Maybe? However, she had just seen everyone at the latest µ’s reunion where Honoka had decided they would go ice skating together. As luck would have it, this had also allowed Maki an opportunity to spend a significant amount of time with Nico, teaching her how to skate so she wouldn’t look foolish in front of everyone.

Maki smiled at the memories. Nico hadn’t lived up to her boast of becoming a better skater than Maki, but at least she had managed to not be the one who fell down the most during the reunion.

Nico-chan…

She would be seeing Nico as well tonight. The older girl was helping Nozomi and Eli at the local shrine where they were all meeting. The three college first-years had scheduled the end of their duties so they could welcome the new year with their friends. And they even said they would be changing out of their haori and into more festive kimonos for the occasion. Thus, Maki wouldn’t be the only one dressed formally this year.

Maybe that was why she was excited? Getting to see Ni… everyone in kimonos? She was certain Nico would be exceptionally cute. And everyone else as well, of course. Yeah, that was probably it. Maybe…

“There we go.” Dr. Nishikino said, stepping away to admire her handiwork.

“Thanks, Ma…” Maki’s gaze found the clock. “Is that the time? I need to go!” She scrambled to grab her kinchaku.

“One moment, Maki, my dear.” Her mother placed a hand on her shoulder. “I have one more thing for you.” She produced a corsage consisting of a pair of flowers with tassels. “I found this while I was out with friends and thought it would match your outfit perfectly tonight.” Quickly and efficiently, she secured it in her daughter’s hair, near the end of the braid she had woven earlier.

“Thanks, Mama.” Maki finally completed giving voice to her gratitude. Then, without even so much as a glance in the mirror to admire the new accessory, she turned, kissed her mother on the cheek and made a break for the door. “I’ll be heading to Nico-chan’s place afterward!” She said over her shoulder as a reminder to her future whereabouts.

“Have fun!” Dr. Nishikino called after her departing daughter. “Say hi to everyone for me and wish them a Happy New Year!”

Nico let out a weary groan as she let her haori slip from her shoulders. “You know, Nozomi,” she whined “I don’t mind helping out around here, but do you have to work us to the bone?”

Nozomi returned a smile that barely masked her own exhaustion. “But Nicocchi, this place has become so much more popular these last two years. It may have something to do with a certain someone posting online that she would be here.”

“But Nico-nii needs to let her fans know where she is!” The raven-haired girl insisted. “It’s not Nico’s fault she has so many adoring fans that want to come see the No. 1 Miko in the Universe.”

“Sorry, Nico,” Eli spoke up, her voice as weary as the others “but I think we all know Nozomi holds that title.”

“Nicocchi has worked hard.” The purple haired girl draped a kimono around the blonde, using the motion as an excuse to give her a quick hug from behind. “I’m fine with her using the title for a few hours.”

“I suppose…” Eli leaned into the embrace before sliding her arms into the sleeves.

Nico rolled her eyes at the display before turning to the mirror to start tying up her hair.

“Ready for me to tie your obi?” A voice came from behind a few minutes later.

Nico shifted her gaze in the mirror to see Nozomi. “Sure.” She replied with a shrug, turning her head back and forth to check for stray strands. “Thanks.”

“Is that what you’ll be wearing?” Nozomi motioned to the accessories Nico hadn’t had time to put on.

“Yeah.”

“Cute. They suit you two.”

“Ye… wha?” The part-time idol resisted balking so as not to disturb the sash that was being secured.

“You two.” The spiritual girl repeated. “Nicocchi and Maki-chan.”

Nico looked at the flowers in question; two sets of three, arranged from darker to lighter shades of pink. Well, perhaps the darkest could pretty much be considered red, but that hadn’t really been Nico’s intent when selecting them. At least she didn’t think so. Was she really so obsessed with the adorable redhead that her subconscious was thinking about her even when picking out hair adornments? Perhaps, she should be more upset by this idea, but she quickly decided it didn’t really bother her.

“But of course!” Nico proclaimed proudly. “Nico-nii will never fail to impress her No. 1 Fan.”

“Well you’ll sure knock her dead with this lovely number.” Nozomi chuckled. “There.” She patted the other girl’s shoulder. “All done. Want help with the flowers?”

“Thanks, but I can get them. You still need your obi tied.”

“I’m on it.” Eli said, coming up from behind Nozomi.

“Which means I can still help Nicocchi with those.” The purple-haired girl decided.

“Oh, alright.” The raven-haired girl gave in and handed back the accessories.

“Maki-chan! Over here!” Nico called on spotting the redhead in the crowd. She waved her hand high to ensure she had her attention before moving toward her. “You’re late.”

“Sorry.” Maki apologized upon reaching the raven-haired girl.

“Well, everyone else is already busy doing other stuff.” Nico explained. “Eli, Umi, Yukiho and Alisa are hanging ema, Nozomi and Rin are offering prayers and the girls of the Subgroup Formerly Known as Printemps are playing hanetsuki.”

“I see…”

“So you’re stuck with Nico for now.”

“I’m… alright with that.”

“Anyway, Maki-chan looks incredibly cute in her kimono.” Nico commented, her voice devoid of teasing and full of admiration.

“Th-thank you…” Pink dusted Maki’s cheeks.

Nico shifted her weight back and forth between her feet, obviously awaiting something.

“N-Nico-chan looks cute as well.” The younger girl said after a moment.

“I know, right.” The older girl posed to show off her outfit while displaying a toothy grin. “Love the hair décor, by the way.”

“Mama gave it to me just before I left.”

“She’s got good taste.” Nico reached up to touch the tassels. “Works well for us.”

“Us?”

Damnit Nozomi… Nico hadn’t meant to say that. Honestly, she hadn’t meant to tease, this time. But now that she had said it, she figured she may as well run with it.

“Of course! Pink and red! Nico and Maki-chan! A classic pair.”

“P-pair?” Maki’s blush deepened.

“Definitely.” Nico grinned. “So, what does Maki-chan want to do first?”

“Uhm…”

Nico quickly realized that the younger girl’s mind was still working through her embarrassment so she probably wasn’t in a decision-making mode.

“Maybe we could go draw our fortunes?” The older girl suggested.

“A-alright…”

Still smiling, Nico grabbed Maki’s hand and lead her through the throng of people to the omikuji stand.

“Ah, Nico-chan, Maki-chan, welcome.” A redheaded young woman clad in haori greeted the two with a bow.

“Hey, Anju.” Nico returned. “Thanks again for covering for us until the others get here.”

“You are quite welcome. Nozomi-chan does so much for this place so it’s our pleasure to help out in times like this.”

“And of course, Tsubasa is more than happy to use this as an excuse to spend time with Honoka-san.” Erena spoke up, approaching from behind her fellow idol.

“You asked A-RISE to fill in for you?” Maki asked of Nico.

“We offered.” Anju replied, having overheard. “We happened to be here praying for the success of our holiday live when Nozomi-chan and Eli-chan were talking about tonight.”

“I see…”

“So, are you two here for fortunes?” Erena indicated the cylindrical box on the table between the two pairs.

“That we are.” Nico pulled her offering out of her pouch. “C’mon, be good, be good.” She muttered, shaking the container before pulling out her fortune. “Alright, you’re up, Maki-chan.”

Maki made her own donation before accepting the cylinder. Her shake was far less vigorous than Nico’s, instead being a single, measured snap.

“Geez, Maki-chan.” The raven-haired girl complained, beginning to unroll her scroll. “You’re so serious about it, like you’re performing surgery or something.”

“Well, I am going to be a doctor.” The redhead replied simply.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t have fun with… eh?” Nico cut off as she read her fortune.

“What’s wrong?” Concern laced Maki’s voice. “Oh…”

“As if Nico wasn’t cursed enough…” the older girl’s shoulders slouched. “But studies? Really?”

“At least it’s a small curse…?” the younger girl seemed uncertain in her assurance. “And I can keep helping where I can.”

“I know.” Nico sighed. “You’re a good tutor, Maki-chan. Maybe you should look to becoming a teacher instead of a doctor.”

“I’m not sure Papa would like that.” Maki considered, beginning to unroll her fortune. “Mama might not mind thou… buweehh?”

“Great Blessings” Nico read, furrowing her brow and pushed closer to the other girl to get a better view. “Romantic Relationships? What the heck?” She borrowed Maki’s habitual phrase.

“N-Nico-chan…” She heard the other girl sputter.

“Oh ho…” Anju crooned. “And who is the lucky one to capture the maiden Nishikino’s heart?”

Erena blinked as though confused and quickly glanced back and forth between the two girls across the table. “I thought…”

“Maki-chan doesn’t have time for silly things like dating.” Nico blurted, a bit quicker and louder than she intended. Geez… She didn’t think she’d ever get used to saying or hearing that.

“Oh?” Erena raised an eyebrow, not appearing convinced.

“T-that’s right…” Maki agreed, her ears turning red.

“I see…”

“And besides, Nico is an idol. And everyone knows idols can’t date, right?”

Erena paused before agreeing. “Right…”

“Well the important part is that you two are happy.” Anju spoke up. “Maki-chan’s Great Blessing sounds interesting and it seems you have a plan to address Nico-chan’s Small Curse. So, I believe you’ll both be fine in the coming year.”

“Sounds good to me.” Nico nodded, suddenly wishing to move on. “Thanks for the fortunes.” She said before turning to the girl next to her. “Where to next, Maki-chan?”

The redhead opened her mouth to reply but snapped it shut when her stomach let out a loud growl instead.

“Food stalls it is.” Nico laughed. “But first we need to find a place to tie this stupid thing.” She waved her fortune around for effect.

As Nico grabbed her hand, she was pleased to see Maki’s blush fading and a smile begining to tug at her lips. Even if the younger girl was a bit slow on the uptake when it came to figuring out their relationship. Even if Nico herself really shouldn’t be seeking a relationship given her current career path. Even if… well, a lot of things, perhaps Maki’s fortune was right. Perhaps this would be a good year for the two of them. And Nico found herself looking forward to it.

“Nozomi! Eli!” Nico called to her fellow college first-years. “What’s up?”

She and Maki had just finished a run through the food stands and were heading over to find the others.

“I just got a message from Anju.” Nozomi explained as the couple approached. “Seems they’re getting busier than I anticipated. I tried reaching out to the girls who are taking the next shift, but they can’t come any earlier. So I’m heading back in to change.” She smiled at the others. “But no need to wait up for me. You three can head back when you’re ready.”

“Nonsense.” Eli shook her head. “I’m staying.”

“As am I.” Nico stated.

“Nicocchi, you don’t…” Nozomi started.

“I agreed to help today.” Nico interrupted. “And that includes extra time if it becomes necessary.” She turned to the girl beside her. “Sorry, Maki-chan, I know we were going to hang out after this, but…”

“I can help too.” Maki stated, as firmly as Nico had before. “You have extra haori, right, Nozomi?”

“Of course.” The spiritual girl replied with a smile.

“Then we can hang out while we work.” The pianist turned back to Nico.

“That depends on how hard Ms. Taskmaster over there decides to drive us.” the part-time idol crossed her arms and huffed.

“I can assign you two to the same station, if you want.” Nozomi offered. “But don’t think I won’t separate you if things…” she smirked “get out of hand.”

“Says the girl who… ”

“Nico… ” Eli interrupted with a pleading tone.

“A-anyway, uhm, let’s go.” Maki sputtered past her own embarrassment.

For the first time in far too long, Maki was the one to take Nico’s hand as she began to lead her toward the temple. Glancing back, she caught a fleeting expression of confusion that was quickly replaced by one a lot happier. Even if she knew she would be busy studying for foreseeable future, perhaps Anju was right. Perhaps the most important thing really was that they were happy. And right now, Maki was happy; so was she. So if this was any indication, it would definitely be a good year. And Maki found herself looking forward to it.

Pic referenced:

Author’s Note Continued in Followup Post

#NicoMaki #Nishikino Maki #Yazawa Nico #How to Handle a Nico #Love Live #fanfic

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lonelypond · 6 years

Text

MoonLight Becomes You, Chapter One

Howdy! This is my @lovelivesecretadmirer2018 gift for @nico-nasty.The prompt was “Your Favorite AU” so here we are. No spoilers, you’ll have to read it to see, although there might be some guesses. It got more involved than I expected so I’m posting the first half. I hope that’s okay and you enjoy this, @nico-nasty. I tried to make it more Eli-centric than usual for me.

Love Live, NozoEli, NicoMaki, 5.7K, 1/2

Things Take A Turn

Eli Ayase, tall, blonde, quarter Russian, smarter and smoother than whoever’s standing next to you, was used to being stronger and faster and taller and hotter than everyone else. Part of why she had started hanging out with her housemate, Nico Yazawa, small, sable haired, dynamic, impossibly cute, was that Nico refused to be impressed or awed by any of it. Eli would wander into their bungalow’s kitchen and instead of drooling or dropping a dish or delivery a cheesy pickup line, Nico would just chuck a towel at Eli’s head and say, “Hey, Blondie, your turn to dry”. It was refreshing.

They’d met at Northwestern, both dance minors, and in the time honored tradition of Making It Big™, had moved out to LA together after graduation. The most serious disagreement they’d ever had was when Eli had discovered pineapple pizza and used their weekly take out splurge money on it. Eli was no longer in charge of dinner, ever. All food choices had to be approved by Nico via text or hand written note. Besides their Monday night indulgence, they took turns cooking, which led to their brightest idea, the Popcorn and Pelmini Podcast, where they talked movies and food, reviewing movies and describing the foods they’d cater based on the movies. LA was a hungry town in many ways and movies were everywhere, so Popcorn and Pelmini took off. Takeout went from once a month to once a week.

Tonight, Eli had strict orders to stop on the way home and grab pho and spring rolls, for a light Spring dinner, so she was was enjoying the walk through their Silver Lake neighborhood, after the afternoon at her part time job writing grants. While she lived for her chances to perform as a dancer or an actor, the solid job with the local performance academy allowed her to take a break and just focus on paperwork and meeting deadlines. It was soothing.

The afternoon had been bright, but suddenly there was a change in the wind and a bank of clouds raced in, darkening the day as Eli felt the wind push against her. Suddenly, her scarf whirled away, twisting down an alley Eli wasn’t familiar with. Her scarf twisted around a bike rack in front of two tiny storefronts, one had a sign with Cyrillic letters promising Tasty Foods, the other a crystal ball that mostly looked like a disco ball, painted by someone who’d never seen either. It was somehow a charming muddle, especially as it came with a whiff of rye, garlic, horseradish and dill from next door. Eli’s mouth watered at the thought of borscht or zharkoye, but before she could step into the store, a woman came out of the crystal ball shop. Tall, voluptuous, dark hair with an intriguing purple tint -- that was the only word Eli could think of to describe the curves the flowing fabric of a floral dress hung on, with turquoise eyes that caught Eli staring.

“Oh.” The woman put her key back in her pocket, “Are you here for a reading. I was about to close up?”

Sure, Eli thought, a reading, I can read books, you’re pretty, then realized that her mouth hadn’t actually opened, which considering what her brain had fumbled to was probably a good thing. Just stop at the first word, “Sure.”

“I’m Nozomi.” Her laugh almost tinkled, the smile was a soft, warm breeze and every waft of spiced air made Eli think dinner was cooking in her grandmother’s kitchen. She wasn’t sure she hadn’t slipped into the best daydream ever.

“Cool. I’m Eli.” Eli followed Nozomi into the store. Bookshelves, filled with knick knacks, books, candles, fabrics that looked hand dyed, and boxes of Tarot cards. Ah, now the reading offer made sense.

Nozomi led the way to a small low, wooden table in the back, two pillows on the floor, Japanese style. Eli was having a day where all of her ancestors were visiting. She hoped it was a good omen.

Nozomi knelt, putting both hands on the table, “So what brings you in for a reading?”

Eli was still taking in all the small details, so she answered Nozomi while twisted around, trying to read the book titles closest to her, “The wind.” Eli turned back to the table and now, Nozomi was watching her curiously so Eli smiled, “I like your shop.”

“The wind.” Nozomi reached under the table and pulled out a deck, “This is my oldest deck, I don’t use it much, but the wind rarely blows in such a…” Nozomi paused, “distinctive face.”

Eli took the deck, unsure if Nozomi had complimented her.

“Shuffle and think about what you’d like some insight about. Do you have a question for the cards?”

“Can I have your owner’s number” was not a question the cards could answer, Eli suspected. She wondered if there was going to be a change in the ordinary, orderly progression of her days. “Just some general advice.”

Nozomi’s face gave very little away but Eli might have guessed she was puzzled. Eli shuffled the cards expertly, Nico’s insistence on a monthly poker night had sharpened her skills.

“Place the top 3 cards face down in a row.”

Eli followed instructions, putting the deck aside.

“Now turn them over.”

Eli had, of course, seen Tarot cards before, but never really paid attention to the details. The first card was a man with a staff, holding off a group. You could only see the ends of their weapons. Cute little leaves were growing out of the staves, Eli wondered if that meant anything. She glanced up at Nozomi, whose face was once again difficult to read. Nozomi tapped the middle card, “We need to see them all together.”

“Makes sense,” Eli flipped the next card, which had a red devil dog person laying across the top of a clock that made no sense, staring at her, upside down winged creatures scattered at the corners of the card. Not even looking to Nozomi, she turned over the third card, still trying to make sense of the muddle she’d uncovered in the middle. Third card was an open fellow with a flower in his hand, setting out to travel.

Eli felt a little nervous. She’d never met the cards or Nozomi before, but she suddenly felt as if she’d let a secret slip out. But she had no secrets...well, except the big one, but if that came out in a Tarot reading, Eli would think Nozomi was the FBI agent monitoring her smartphone mic. Nozomi was now touching the center card with the tips of fingers, her other tapping on the table, “Not an easy read, Eli.”

“Does that mean I’m going to fly away, carried by upside down angels?” Eli really had no frame of reference for any of this, but was driven by an urge to see if she draw another bright laugh from the woman across from her.

Nozomi snorted instead, “The card is upside down, not the creatures. They’re all out of various mythologies. There’s so many hints woven together in each card. This is the Wheel of Fortune and reversed, well,” Nozomi hesitated, then rested her hand gently on Eli’s. Eli jerked a little at the contact, but did not pull back, “you may be due for some unpleasant changes and challenges as you roll through the cycle, but the seven of wands indicates you’ve conquered difficulties before so remember your strengths.”

“That sounds sensible.” Nozomi was giving Eli advice that could cover anything, but with the connections she was making with the images on each of the cards, the reading seemed less fabricated than Eli had expected.

“Expecting me to say you’ll meet the love of your life tomorrow at 3 p.m. and she’ll have…”

Eli cut off Nozomi, “No, I’m not that silly. I know divination, whatever your mystical beliefs, is a tool to sort through the things a person may be worrying about.” Eli reran in her head Nozomi ‘s last sentence, surprised at the “she,” but maybe Eli being a complete pushover about the reading had giving Nozomi a cue about her gay weakness for curves and sensuous smiles. “Besides, I’d rather have meeting the “love of my life” be serendipitous.”

“A romantic?” Nozomi took her hand from Eli’s and shifted the last card slightly.

Eli shrugged, “Not really. I just” and Eli grinned, letting her eyes do what she hoped was twinkle in a friendly fashion, “have expert level planning and organizational skills, which are great for work, but dating, dating should be something different...surprising, startling...serendipitous.”

Nozomi laughed. “You also have a distinctive mind, Eli-chi. This last card suits you, but don’t take offense at the name. It’s The Fool. It’s the bold start of a new journey, confidently stepping out to deal with whatever comes your way.”

“I like that.” Eli leaned forward, taking another look at the card, “He’s enjoying the air.”

“Maybe it’s a nice breeze full of Russian spices.” Nozomi swept the cards back into the deck, shuffling.

Eli chuckled, “Ah, you noticed I wasn’t checking out your shop. My grandmother is Russian. I miss her kitchen.”

“Today’s special is zharkoye. You should take some home to…”

Eli shook her head, “My housemate doesn’t let me deviate from plans since the day I decided to try pineapples on pizza. She’s expecting pho.”

“She’ll be wanting zharkoye, you know she will. She won’t mind. Just give her a wink.”

“You haven’t met Nico. My charms have no effect on her.” Eli stood, “but well made zharkoye might. It is technically soup with beef, vegetables and spices, and I bet they have dumplings so dinner wouldn’t be so far off from pho and spring rolls.” Eli reached for her wallet, “How much do I owe you for the reading?”

Nozomi waved away Eli’s offer, “Consider it a trial run. Just stop by again. Wednesdays they make an excellent zelyoniye shchi and everyday there’s borscht, of course.”

“You really like your Russian foods.” Eli shoved her hands in her pocket as Nozomi stood.

“It’s a very distinctive cuisine that has attracted my attention.” Nozomi opened the door for Eli. “Stop by when you figure out what the wheel’s turned to.”

Eli almost said “looking forward to it” then remembered that Nozomi had said “unpleasant changes and challenges” so nodded her head with a “Thanks, Nozomi” as she planned a dinner menu that would make Nico not mind the change in plan.

Eli returned to their small bungalow with two bags of food, having been lured by childhood favorites into spending more money than budgeted. Nico would go ballistic, but then she’d taste the food and downgrade her disapproval to minor grumping.

“Hey Nico!” Eli kicked the door shut. She could see Nico moving around in the kitchen, and then caught something out of the corner of her eye. Slouched on the couch, laptop propped on one of Nico’s impossibly pink pillows was a woman, red hair contained by a gray baseball cap tilted to the side with Refuse To Conform in a circular logo, dressed in green and purple striped board shorts and a black muscle tee. She glanced up casually, gave Eli a slow once over with extremely disinterested lavender eyes and snorted.

Eli put the bags on the counter, pointing over her shoulder as Nico moved to see what Eli had been diverted by this week, “Your stray looks feral.”

Nico snort was an echo of the mystery woman’s on the couch, “You should talk. That’s Maki.”

Still no help. Eli didn’t really like random strangers staring holes through her back so she pressed for answers, “Nico.”

Nico watched as Eli unpacked things that weren’t from their usual Thai place, “What did you do, Eli?”

“First explain Maki.” Eli hoarded the foil containers, enjoying the rich scents and knocking Nico’s prying hands back.

“Fine. You remember Nico was giving an interview to the Rice and Ramen cuties?”

Another snort from the couch, a burst of typing and as Eli looked back, Maki was sliding headphones over one ear.

“Yeah.”

“Well Maki was there. Turns out she does all their awesome music.” Nico hopped up to lean over the counter and blow a kiss in the direction of the couch, “So Nico talked her into doing some pieces for ours. It’ll take us to the next level.”

“NICO!” Eli knew her next statement would sound hollow when she’d just overspent their takeout budget on a nostalgia fix, but she said it anyway. “We can’t afford that.”

“She’s not a horse or my teenage brother so we can afford to feed her a few meals.” Nico opened a container and sniffed, “What is this?”

“I got blown into a weird corner with a Russian restaurant and a Tarot reader next door. She said they had zharkoye today and I couldn’t resist.”

Nico pulled out a spoon for a tasting, “Wow. Really rich stock. Nice. Nico almost forgives you.”

Eli unwrapped the steaming package of varenyky, “First you try the cabbage and mushroom, then later, the cherry and you’ll love me.”

Nico brought a stack of plates to the counter, “Hey Maki, you care what I put on your plate?”

“No.” There was a pop as Maki achieved full headphones.

“Is she actually composing music for us?” Eli ladled soup into three bowls.

“Yeah, she’s sharp, smart and really talented. Nico’s impressed.” Nico rubbed the end of her nose, “Plus, truthfully, Nico doesn’t mind the scenery.”

“Ha!” Eli was salivating, impatient to dive into dinner, but since Nico had drifted to that conversational lane, she confessed, “I met someone impressive today too.”

“Is she a Russian cook, because color Nico surprised.” Nico’s sardonic nature was a refreshing splash of tonic water in a world full of people outsmiling each other.

“No, the Tarot reader.” Eli sat on the stool, and started with the soup, having sampled the varenky earlier, “Her name’s Nozomi. She seems about our age. Not what I expected. Practical.”

“Practical.” Nico popped a varenky in her mouth, taking a moment for a brief murmur of enjoyment. “So what kind of package is practical wrapped up in?”

“Curvy.” Eli admitted, slightly adorable when abashed, not that Nico would publicly concede that.

“See, this is why we will always be perfect roommates,” Nico picked up the tray she’d loaded with bowls, plates and silverware and headed around the end of the island, “You like curvy and Nico likes...:”

Hungry as she was, Eli couldn’t resist the cue, “I’ve always wondered what Nico likes.”

“An audience.” Nico winked. Eli half turned on the stool to watch as Nico slid into the couch next to Maki, tray on the table in front of them. Eli was surprised to catch the redhead smile shyly when Nico was too preoccupied with food placement to notice. Maybe they were getting free music after all.

Eli had left her futon in the couch position. Usually, she went through her ballet exercises in the morning, but she had an audition tomorrow. She never enjoyed auditions...too many nerves, too many memories. Tonight, Eli felt especially jittery, almost feverish. A long session at the barre would help exhaust her enough to sleep. She’d be losing enough sleep tomorrow night.

Eli swept her long hair up into a ponytail, met her own eyes in the mirrored wall. Fierce determination looked back, a hint of sadness in the blue. Yes, tonight’s dinner had been a warm reminder of a time in her life surrounded by love, but it was also a time in her life when she’d been through the harshest of wringers, struggling to keep up with other children, other dancers, pushing down the queasiness as she stepped out on stage in front of a judging panel, desperate not to disappoint. Reaching a hand out to the barre, Eli breathed in, centered her weight and prepared to do her first GRANDE PLIÉ.

Nico had been lying in bed, a little restless. Maki had fallen asleep over her laptop, after Eli disappeared into her room so Nico had covered the composer with a blanket, sipped tea until the snoring started and went into her own bedroom with the door open. Sleepwear for new, cute, nice, if mostly inarticulate potential friend crashing on the couch? Nico had decided on fun SHORT sleep shorts with cartoon bunnies and a pink camisole. Why not be prepared for late night chat and sharing about music or dreams or professional aspirations. Nico fell asleep wondering what else Maki had composed music for and if Nico had run across her work during a voice acting gig.

“AAAAHHHHHHHH….no….get away from me!” Nico woke up, fuddled, heart racing, hair falling in her eyes. That wasn’t Eli’s voice. Nico sprang out of bed, hitting the light switch in the living room as she raced toward the scream. Maki was sitting up on the couch, staring around her, one of the glass doors next to the kitchen island open.

“Maki? Are you all right?” Nico shut the door, listening for anyone else in the house. Where was Eli? No response from Maki, so Nico moved back to the living room, sat on the table in front of where her guest was still looking panicky on the couch, hands gentle on Maki’s shoulders to command the redhead’s attention. Nico’s voice was soft. “What happened?”

Maki almost shuddered, “I...I think something sniffed me.”

“Hell…” So much for calm and softness. Nico snapped around and made for Eli’s bedroom. Sheets on the floor, no Eli, bathroom door open showing an empty room.

Nico walked slowly back to Maki, who quickly averted her eyes when she realized she’d been staring at Nico’s shorts. “Did you see her?”

“Her, who?” Maki was more and more confused.

Nico put her hands together, in prayer position, dropping her head into them and blowing out her frustration. She spoke slowly, “Was it a dog?”

Maki couldn’t read Nico’s attitude, “Maybe…”

“About this high?” Nico held a hand out, halfway between waist and breast height.

“Not sure.” Maki rubbed her cheek, “Just felt something damp and cold press against me.”

“Oh, Eli.” Nico muttered, ignoring Maki and heading back to the kitchen. The trash had been knocked over and bags from tonight’s dinner had been scattered, “What happened to you?”

Maki was standing behind Nico, suddenly close, “What happened to who?”

Nico turned, lip downturned, her face close enough that she seemed to be searching Maki’s eyes and decided to shoot off a question. “What’s your stance on cryptids?”

“Cryptids?” Maki had absolutely no idea what this conversation was about or why Nico was so intense or why she couldn’t stop staring at the tiny tiny flecks of deeper ruby flicked across Nico’s irises.

Nico stepped back, rubbing her forehead, then counting things off with her fingers, “Vampires, Big Foot, Yeti, Jersey Devil, Loch Ness Monster...werewolves…”

Maki tentatively decided to try breaking the mood, “Nessie always takes good pictures.”

Wrong move. Nico threw up her hands, stormed to the glass doors and a rant slowly gained volume and speed, “Wakes Nico up by scaring the life out of her, doesn’t bother to notice who sniffed her, then decides to be funny right when Nico has to figure out what to do…” Nico leaned forward, her hands on the doors.

Maki was having even more trouble than usual processing thoughts, due to being startled awake, events that made no sense, Nico’s rant continuing sotto voce, a craving for donuts and/or coffee, and being unable not to stare at the muscles of Nico’s legs as the hem of her shorts brushed them. “I’m…sorry.”

Nico stopped muttering and turned around, “Huh?”

Maki twirled a strand of hair, managing to almost look Nico in the eye, “I’m still a little fuzzy, maybe still partly asleep. I can help more with coffee.”

“Nico doesn’t have time for that.” Nico grabbed a bag scrap off the floor, “Dawn’s only a couple of hours away.”

“Dawn?” Maki guessed that had something to do with the cryptid comment, but it was only a guess.

“Nico has to get dressed. And play detective.” Nico dodged around Maki, heading to her room, but Maki’s hands were suddenly on her waist, spinning her.

“Explain. Please.”

Once again, Nico’s face was so close that Maki nearly stopped breathing, caught in a fierce scrutiny.

Nico gently removed Maki’s hands. “How about Nico promises to explain later after she finds her roommate?”

Maki’s turn to take a moment to consider what she could read from Nico’s face. Mostly worry, determination, some concern that seemed directed at Maki. Maki decided to trust Nico. “If you let me help.”

Nico nodded, then shoved a torn off part of bag at Maki, “Do you know where that is?”

Maki read the address, “Oh yeah, it’s pretty close to a few clubs I know. I didn’t know anything new had opened there.”

Nico tilted her head, recalibrating, “And Nico thought you spent all your nights on other people’s couches. Not out dancing.”

Maki decided not to answer as she calculated the best way to get there.

“Nico will be back in two minutes. Grab a snack out of the cabinets next to the fridge. Sorry about the coffee, we’ll stop if we find a place.” Nico paused and glanced back, “Pull some raw meat out of the fridge, there’s chicken. Storage bags to the left of the sink.”

Food would help Maki makes sense out of this morning. Being woken up by some kind of animal -- who has a ‘cryptid’ crossing in their living room -- hadn’t been pleasant, but watching Nico crisis solve in her pajamas was kinda fascinating. Maki didn’t mind following along for the ride.

Nico was driving, telling Maki to look out for a fluffy greyhound type of dog, nearly three feet tall, very light fur. They parked a couple blocks off the restaurant's corner. Wind was starting to whip up a bit so Maki zipped her hoodie, chasing after a Nico who was moving nearly as fast as the car had been, head snapping from side to side. Maki found herself listening, but it was still predawn enough that the birds hadn’t hit yawning yet so the air was a mix of distant cars and rustling leaves, with the faint thump of a bass line amped somewhere to the west. Maki pulled out her Tascam and hit record as she walked. It might fit nicely into a set when she wanted to slow down the mood for the night.

Nico stopped, which Maki only realized when she nearly caused Nico to fall, drawing a hiss from the shorter woman.

“Sorry.” Maki pocketed the recorder, wondering what caught Nico’s attention. A moving white animal seemed to be rustling in a pile of trash.

“How did she do that…” Nico muttered, walking quickly, but careful to stay calm, “Hey, Eli...it’s Nico. We need to get you home. It’s almost dawn.” Nico opened the bag of raw chicken. “C’mon.”

Eli. Maki just stood there, watching Nico approach the……...dog? Cryptid? Creature? Quick inventory, four legs, tail, not hunched over and tearing a spine out of someone, wait what if it started tearing the spine out of....Maki found herself slow running to catch up to “NICO!”

Nico didn’t turned but waved Maki back, which Maki ignored. They were approaching the two storefront corner now and the...creature...paused, sniffing. Then a light went on in the storefront without weird partly Greek writing and Nico and the creature turned, the creature with a single bark.

“Can I help you?” A tall woman with purple tinted hair loose around her shoulders stepped out of the door.

Maki glanced to Nico, who sighed, “Hi, new person.” Nico pointed, “Nico needs to get her into my car.”

Maki, hand on Nico’s shoulder, watched as the creature slowly, skittishly sniffed the newcomer, who knelt and smiled, hand out “That’s a popular hair color on this block, recently.”

“No it’s not.” Nico zoomed in, bag under the nose as the creature whined and stuck her snout in and started chewing. “Come on, E…” Nico coughed, “come back to the car, you. Nico needs her beauty sleep.”

Hopping backwards, Nico seemed to be successful in her attempts to lure as they were getting closer to her car. Maki jumped ahead to open the back door, which they’d left unlocked for quick grabs, then stepped to the side. Nico tossed the bag into the back seat with an urgent, “You can do it, get the treat, c’mon, do it for Nico.” The creature stared at Nico for a moment, then climbed into the seat. Nico shut the door and leaned back against the car. No way the chicken and drool stain was coming out easily, but that would be Eli’s problem, not Nico’s.

“Thanks, person Nico does not know. Sorry to disturb you this early.” She stood, “C’mon, Maki.”

Maki was pretty sure she should be offended that Nico had used that same tone of voice on the creature, but she slid into the passenger side as Nico tried to get around the new person. The creature had settled into the back seat and was licking its paws so Maki rolled down her window a bit.

Nozomi held her arms akimbo, “It’s no problem, Nico, right? I’m Nozomi. I was just up to go to the temple I volunteer at. That’s a beautiful dog.”

“Thanks.” Nico grumped, “She always attracts attention. And now I really have to get her home.”

Nozomi was confused by Nico’s brusqueness, which didn’t slow Nico down at all. She was in the car, turning the key in the ignition and giving Maki orders before Nozomi managed to say “Have a nice day.”

“Grab the blanket out of that bag at your feet and toss it over Eli, please.” Nico hit the accelerator. If it had been a manual, she might have shredded the clutch.

Maki unzipped the bag, “Okay, why? And why were you so rude?”

Nico turned from the road to grit her teeth at Maki, “Nico is always charming. But Eli is going to be a naked blonde woman in another couple of minutes and I know she’d prefer we all spare ourselves that sight.”

Maki shrunk a little, suddenly reminded this wasn’t an ordinary lost dog hunt and Nico still had a lot to explain.

Nico reached out a hand and patted Maki on the knee. “Thanks for helping out, Maki. Nico has to solo too often. It’s nice to have company.”

“Yeah,” Maki yawned as she dropped the blanket over the seat. She was ready to fall asleep again, as uncomfortable as Nico’s couch had been.

Something thumped into the back of Maki’s seat with a whimper, followed by a brief howl whine. Nico was holding her breath, hand frozen on Maki’s leg, “Eli?”

“Nico?” Rustling noises now and maybe some crying, but Maki didn’t want to turn around. She sensed that that would not be a Nico approved choice.

“It’s all right, Eli. We found you. You had a Russian food craving.”

“Why did I…” Eli’’s voice shook, fearful…”was that Nozomi?”

Nico’s hands were now both on the steering wheel, knuckle white grip, while her voice spilled comfort. “Yeah, but she just thought you were a lost dog.”

“Nico…” Another cry.

“Don’t worry about it, Eli. We’ll figure it out after we get home. Is your head hurting?”

“Yes.”

“Nico brought some aspirin, Maki’ll get it out of the bag for you, please, Maki.”

Maki nodded and Nico smiled. The pill and water bottles were easy enough to find. Maki handed them over the seat to Eli, whose eyes were red and almost as runny as her nose.

“Here you go.” Maki cleared her throat. “You don’t have to worry about me. I don’t talk to people. It’s just...well, Nico obviously needed help.” Nico snorted.

Eli nodded, her voice a tired mutter. “Thanks. Nico does a lot. She’s pretty amazing.”

Maki grunted. Nico crowed, hands loosening on the wheel, “Nico has a fan club now. Let’s hear some cheers, pretty girls.” One hand flew up to her temple, “Nico Nico Ni.”

Silence greeted that initiative but Nico couldn’t throttle back her cheeky grin. Which Maki couldn’t resist echoing. Eli just moaned, curled up in the blanket, miserable, head throbbing from trying to run wolf senses through human circuits. Nozomi had sounded so kind.

Maki had settled back in on the couch, Eli had gone to shower and Nico was making coffee. She wasn’t getting any more sleep and she doubted Eli would. Maki had been silent when they hit the house, yawning and stretching out under the blanket, still in her hoodie. Nico wasn’t sure if she should be impressed or worried by how noncommittal the redhead was. But that wasn’t the immediate problem. The immediate problem was that Eli only ever turned one night a month and last night wasn’t it. Or else Maki would not have been on Nico’s couch. Tonight, tonight, Eli would have been prepared. Tonight, no one would be on the couch and Eli would be sedated and sleeping it off like a bad hangover.

Eli sat down at the island, hair still wet, blue striped dress shirt still not tucked into her pencil skirt; Nico pushed a mug of half hot chocolate, half coffee her way. Eli smiled at the smell, “Thanks for the treat, Nico.”

Nico shrugged, swigging from her own mug, half coffee, half home made vanilla bean coffee creamer, “You had a rough night.” Eli nodded. “Do you know what happened?”

Eli shook her head, then opened her mouth to wave off the heat from the hastily gulped drink. Her throat was now going to hurt as much as everything else today. Cheerful. “I was restless, I didn’t actually think I’d get to sleep…”

“Nervous about the audition?” Nico asked.

Eli closed her eyes with a sigh, “Always. Then…” Eli rubbed her forehead, aggressively, Nico almost considered pulling away her hands, “there were smells and I remembered...someone friendly...and you were there...and I was hungry and wanted to go home???” Eli preferred treating being a werewolf like a sick day spent recovering from outpatient surgery: plan around it, refuse to let it disrupt anything and stay in bed to aid recovery. Very Eli. Control the problem, organize the symptoms.

“Nozomi was there.” Nico mentioned casually.

“I know.”

“Do you think it was because of her? This all started at puberty right, maybe it’s hormones?”

“Oh, and I’m suddenly going to “alpha” and start jumping on anything in heat?” Eli’s voice was scornful and she finished her drink quickly, the better to storm off.

“Eli,” Nico grabbed Eli’s hands, trapping them around her mug, “I didn’t mean that. It’s just…” Nico’s hands were warm, “people act differently when they’re attracted to someone. It’s not rational. And this close to the full moon, it might have tipped you…”

“That’s ridiculous, Nico.” Eli’s voice raised, Nico glanced to the couch. “I am in control of my emotions.” Eli shook off Nico’s hands. “I don’t know why it happened, but I will be making sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Okay, Eli.” Nico deliberately ignored all the screaming alarm flares that Eli did not actually have the situation under control, “Just tell Nico if you need any help. I’ll make sure Maki’s not around tonight.”

“Thanks Nico.” Eli stood, tucked her shirt in, ponytailed her hair, buttoned everything but the top button and became All Business Eli. Nico, a master of presentation herself, was always impressed by how Eli never cracked the polished, professional, emotionless facade. If Nico hadn’t caught Eli sobbing, drunk and vulnerable after a bad breakup, one night their freshman year, Nico might have never known the caring, emotionally clueless, mischievous, sometimes straight up silly person under all the imposed self control. Dancers always pushed their bodies, training their minds to overcome pain. Eli practiced that on her emotions as well. Nico’s job as a friend was to get Eli to ease back on herself, but it was a struggle.

“Are you going to wake her up?” Eli asked, gesturing over her shoulder at the snoring redhead.

Nico’s answer was no, she was going to sneak out quietly and leave a note for the too cute to disturb visitor, then hurry home after her meeting with her agent, but she knew Eli wouldn’t approve of that. So she hedged. “Nico will take care of it.”

“Good.”

It had been a quiet morning at the shrine. Nozomi was back home with a cup of tea, pondering the scene this morning. The small, dark haired woman had been behaving suspiciously with the taller redhead obviously half a step behind on whatever the plan was. They didn’t live in the neighborhood, so their dog must have wandered. Unless it was drawn by the smell of the Cafe next door. Perhaps it was one of those Russian wolfhounds, Nozomi thought, bolshoi, no borzoi. She, Nico had called her a she, had seemed quiet, shy. So not a boisterous borzoi, Nozomi giggled to herself. Perhaps it was drawn by the smell, this morning, there was strongly spiced tea in the air, probably with dense, sweet tea cakes ready to dust your fingers with sugar. Thinking of the menu next door brought back a memory of yesterday afternoon and the tall Russian food aficionado with the twinkling blue eyes. She wondered if Eli liked sweets, maybe she should start keeping them around in case the Wheel of Fortune rolled Eli back into her shop. Ah, but Nozomi stopped herself there, it was no good wishing for tall, pretty, stacked blondes with smart cerulean eyes to return, the Universe didn’t work like that. Although, perhaps a trail of Prague cake slices would work if Eli really did have a sweet tooth.

Nozomi sighed. She obviously wasn’t getting Eli off her mind this morning. She reached for her deck, the same one she’d handed to Eli and dealt three cards. After a minute to center her feelings, she turned them over. Five of Swords. A problem card. Next. Death. Nozomi drew a breath. Change. Upheaval. She rarely drew that card for herself, settled into a routine that brought her satisfaction, if not joy. What would the Future bring. Nozomi stared at the Queen of Cups, blonde hair cascading to her shoulder as she sipped from the cup where her emotions and thoughts gathered. Nozomi tried not to see Eli there, on a throne, graceful hands bringing up the cup to her glistening mouth. Nozomi, startled by the vividness of the image, swept the three back into the deck, discomfited. What did the cards have in store?

A/N: Hi! This was a gift for @nico-nasty on Tumblr. The prompt was Eli, Kanan, Nico, Maki and "your favorite AU." Which I was forced by my wife to admit was werewolf so here we are, an Eli-centric Bibi werewolf AU. The plot got more complicated than I expected (color no one who follows my stories surprised) so this is the first half. I'll be working on the second half in the beginning of March (i have a Christmas fic to finish and Casual Lunacy to continue). Hope you enjoy!

Also, there’s a playlist: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLko9fiFcKQ05lK_hHMrTy790lh4LIwDLp

#Love Live #Ayase Eli #Nishikino Maki #Yazawa Nico #Bibi #love live secret admirer 2018 #fanfic #tag and search test

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adriennescomingbacktolife · 4 years

Photo

There it was. The Baltimore City Championship. Resplendent in all of its glory. The golden plates shimmered in the overhead lighting. Encased in glass, it rested on a dark red velvet pillow. Adrienne Levi shared that bright spotlight. She would be one of the women competing for the honor of representing Carnage Wrestling and its home city at the 100th edition of Chaos. Sitting in a chair, elevated far off the ground, she adjusted a mic clip to the collar of her logo t-shirt. Looking at the camera, she smiled and asked, “We on?” The red recording light on the camera answered that question for her. Adrienne exhaled sharply as she considered her words. Here she was, on stage, speaking to an opportunity that rarely comes. Earned through unorthodox means. Against an adversary that had been her partner for the last month. “I haven’t talked about this much,” Adrienne said as she gestured to the championship on her right, “and to tell the truth, it’s because I didn’t totally believe that this would happen. Everyone has been so gracious in their assessments. That I deserve this. That I’ve come a long way.” Smiling graciously, she cast a small glance towards the case. “Thank you.” Steepling her hands in her lap, Adrienne leaned forward. “These past few weeks have been challenging. Losing stinks but that isn’t what this is about. I’m not the sort of girl who dwells on one bad night at work.” Thinking back to former champion Eli Goode, he became more and more unhinged with every defeat. His delusion grew as he talked about which championships mattered and didn’t. It had consumed him. And everyone now seemed to be an enemy to him. Things that had never been said by her were attributed to her without a second thought. Nervous to admit, Adrienne saw a strange parallel emerging in her current circumstances. “No, that isn’t it. I told you all right away. I’m not new to this industry. I don’t have the accolades or credibility of all of you, but that’s okay. Everything I’ve earned has been right here this year. But prior to Carnage, I was,” Adrienne paused, reaching behind her to retrieve a folded up photograph. Carefully, she opened it. For just a second, her eyes narrowed, and her expression could be construed as contempt. She turned the photo forward before continuing. “This was me.” Adrienne was certainly right in the corner, but this was the “first autograph” she had shared earlier this summer. Someone else was featured prominently: “Magnificent” Danny Levi. “Well, Danny and me.” She tossed it aside, and the piece of bent up glossy paper floated down onto the wooden stage. “You can draw your own conclusions here. Or if you want to, go on to YouTube and look up Danny Levi’s Greatest Hits. I’ve given up trying to remove the compilation of every time he struck me. Clearly, people enjoy watching it more than anything else he ever did. And as you all know, he’s gone.” This had been no real secret. It’s just something she didn’t want to talk about much. Recent events had forced her hand. Softer this time, she said, “He’s gone.” That night was not Adrienne’s best effort. She had been a non factor against Axton Gunn and Sebastian Hawke. Leaving The Dragon Lady to twist in the wind. And in the end, they had lost. Not that she really cared. Uncharastically, Adrienne left the show early. Within twenty minutes, she was back at Kohaku’s apartment, slowly emptying an unwieldy three-liter jug of zinfandel. Getting on Twitter, she poured out her guts and then logged off. Should have probably not pressed Send on those. Setting down her glass, she hiccuped. Feeling queasy, she realized this was a poor idea. However, it was the only thing she could do to take off the edge. Everything piled up, and anyone who she thought would understand - was possibly part of the problem. Or reminded her. The fox had held to his word. Phone number no longer worked. He was long gone. All that was left was that confusing book. Something she couldn’t even wrap her mind around with the rockstar around. Axton Gunn had upset the apple cart. It wasn’t him exactly, it was -- There was a sharp knock at the door. Adrienne tried to remember if she had ordered delivery. Or if it was just one of those “wine and me” sort of evenings. But before she could get off from the couch, the door opened. She sat there, dumbfounded, as Danny Levi sauntered through the doorway. He had cleaned up nice. Always valued a nice fitting suit. Giving her a little wave, he smiled, “Surprised, aren’t you?” “How?” Raising an eyebrow, he pointed to the wine with an appraising look. “What do you think, Ade?” Waltzing into the kitchen, he opened the fridge. Disappointed, he called back out to her. Adrienne hadn’t left the couch as she stared at the still open door, “You aren’t a very generous host, are you? I could go for a nice porterhouse right now.” Danny entered the living room. Nonchalantly, he plopped down on the couch next to his wife. “I mean if I weren’t wormfood.” Laughing incredulously, he placed a warm hand on Adrienne’s shoulder. She closed her eyes. His exclamation pierced her mind with ease, “Goddamn. You can’t even look at your old man?” “Cuz, you aren’t real.” With deep, slow breathing, she tried to refocus on the night she had been having prior. “Of course, I’m not real, you dumb bitch. So, just look at me.” Danny’s arm shot forward, grasping her jaw and twisting her head towards him. He spoke low, hissing through his teeth, “Look. At. Me.” Adrienne’s slowly opened her eyes. Danny Levi smiled that crooked grin. On closer inspection, his skin was pallid, and he looked like he hadn’t rested for a long long time. “Good girl.” He let go. Danny eyed the contents of the coffee table, besides the wine that is. Adrienne had been signing a stack of autographs to mail out in the next few days. “Doing alright for yourself, aren’t you?” He said insincerely. Grabbing one up, he eyed up the promo photo. It was one in her new full bodysuit. She smiled at the camera, fists balled up, and ready to right. Her looping signature was bold and elegant. “What the fuck are you even wearing here?” “I like it.” “Nobody cares what you like.” Chuckling, he moved on, tossing the photo back on the pile. “You remember the good old days? That little blue dress. The first few rows would always try to see up your skirt. Don’t blame them; you were a good piece of ass, Ade.” Danny pantomimed a chef’s kiss. Adrienne looked back towards the door, and she could have sworn he had left it open as he strolled in. “Be serious. This is just the worst of who I was. How you choose to remember me, right? We haven’t talked in so long. I know you said goodbye. Disposed of me like garbage. Tossed away that ring of yours into the drink. Moved far, far away. And promised that you’d never think of me again.” Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, Danny drew her in. He smelled of decay. “But thanks to Axxxxxton,” sarcastically, he exaggerated his name in a manner she was familiar with, “I found you.” “Wasn’t his fault.” “I know, I know. Could have been anyone. Fitting it was that piece of Cali trash. Remember the time when I tore up that special poster. Signed just for you, and you wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it. Moped around for days until I set you straight.” Danny messed her hair up with an affectionate nuzzle. “You always come around eventually.” Adrienne swallowed hard. His imagined touch repulsed him. This past summer, she had seen and heard things she couldn’t begin to explain. And here was another one. But she knew he was gone. She saw the light leave his eyes. “Side effects of becoming a drunk, I suppose. See, you can run away from mommy, but I’ll always be inside you. Like a parasite, Adrienne.” Abruptly pushing her away, he then stood up. “Anything to say for yourself?” Staring at the ground, Adrienne mumbled to herself, “What’s the point?” “None really,” he concluded, “I just wanted to see if you had it in you. Here’s your chance. You’re the hero of the story, and I’m the villain. Look at me with all of my flaws, and you’d see I ended up being a truly despicable person. And here you are. You know the truth, you’re right down in the hole with me. You are moldering beside me. You keep manifesting these ways out, but fuck, none of them are real.” Danny started to take off his suit jacket, folding it neatly on a chair next to the couch. “So, maybe I should stick around. Perhaps every night, when you’re all by your lonesome, I’ll drop by. We can reminisce about all of the bad times. Maybe you throw me a fuck for old time’s sake. Maybe Fairman takes a break from his eternal rest, and you swallow him whole. As awful as I was, I was always a generous man. You gotta give me that.” She shook her head, unsteadily. He sat down in the chair. Unzipping his fly, Danny signaled to her with a disingenuous suggestive tone. “Danny’s had a long day, Ade. Why don’t you--” Her phone chimed. It startled her, but it also made her realize that she was alone in the literal sense. Gathering her scruples, Adrienne clicked on the notification. A brief, direct message from Matt Knox. Yo. kidYou're lovedSee you at 100 “I’m just trying to start over.” Adrienne recalled the conversation she had with Amber last month. Ultimately, she just wanted to prove Danny wrong. She never considered that she’d become so attached to the people here to the point where she would quit an unsatisfying but secure job. Or running away from her family like she were some wronged teenager. “It hasn’t been smoothest road. But this shot represents something I’ve never had. I’ve always stood in someone else’s shadow. And while I’m not that impressive compared to others, I’ve worked hard to get better.” She paused, giving the belt another look. Who wouldn’t fantasize about that moment? She would bask in the glow of victory, holding that championship high. “I deserve this.” That statement hung in the air. It was something that many have said. Depending on who, it always took on a different feel. “But not more so than The Dragon Lady.” Adrienne wanted to give this woman her utmost attention. It was time. “I guess I’d like to apologize to you formally about the last match. My head wasn’t in the game, and it cost us against a unit that had something to prove. To some, that makes things interesting. Personally, It hasn’t changed much. This was going to happen either way. The next Baltimore City Champion will be one of us.” Adrienne chuckled briefly, “Is that enough sports cliches for you?” She steeled her resolve. Adrienne always found these next moments difficult, and after Axton, she was perhaps more reluctant than ever. “We’ve spent a lot of time together. Trained. Ate together. I even met your manager.” Mameha was impressive. She enjoyed her company, and the excellent tea certainly helped. “But we always knew that everything led to 100. That every action would be measured. These past few times, I guarantee we’ve studied each other just as much as our opponents. I know my weaknesses. I know that I can’t match your skill or ability. I don’t possess the knowledge you have when it comes to a good fight. But that’s the thing.” She paused, emoting that this was a realization for the audience to hear. “I don’t need to. I just need to be me. I know this will be the most challenging match of my life. You aren’t some cartoon villain like Grant or Winter. You’re not lashing out at shadows like Eli Goode. You’re one of the most formidable opponents I’ll ever step into the ring with. Some of your decisions have perplexed others. You gave up an opportunity for the Chaos title to roll in the mud with Alex Winter. It’s not hard to see why.” Adrienne thought back briefly to Winter. Nobody seemed to be learning the nature of this guy. Every action creates a reaction. Whoever chose to accost Alex has only made it worse. “He gets under your skin. And by hook or crook, he humiliated you. I think we were fortunate against the likes of Goode and Matthews. Your attention seemed to be on Alex Winter that evening.” She raised her pointer finger in the air as to qualify her statement, “This isn’t to say that you can’t walk and chew gum at the same time but could have been a different story if Goode or Matthews were actually on the same page.” And that brought her to their most recent outing. “And while I was far from my best against Gunn and Hawke, I would be remiss if they didn’t get credit for their outstanding teamwork. Their game plan was simple.” Taking a moment, she leaned forward. “You.” And she hated to admit that, but the strategy was plain as day. “At first, I considered this to be an exhibition of sorts. I had my apprehensions about Axton Gunn. I’ve explained it enough. Sebastian was a little abrasive at first, so it was strange to hear such shining praise from his lips. But I think what you did only served to put a fire under them. It gave them the motivation to work together and wipe away that initial sting of defeat. I still don’t know either of them very well. Axton, sure. He’s a big deal. But personally?” Adrienne shook her head. “So I would hope that this championship is your focus this week.” The camera panned out slightly to put Adrienne and the title in the shot. “Because I wouldn’t be a student of the game if I didn’t take advantage. I want to become champion. I’m not sure if I can say it any better. I’m not like the Jack Michaels of old. I’m not Mitch. Or Silvio. Or anyone else for that matter. I just know that it’d mean a lot to represent this company. A company that, despite whatever issues linger, gave me a chance. It would mean everything for me to represent a city and a community that has welcomed me with open arms.” Shrugging her shoulders, she concluded, “I guess it would make me happy.” Adrienne shared a little smile. Not a lot to smile about recently. But again, that little fantasy took root. It would be awful nice. She had a guest coming, and with every passing conversation with Sylvia, she thought it would be cool if she saw her win that title. Retrieving a little slip of paper from her jeans pockets, she read it to herself. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot. The Dragon Lady probably knows what this is or at least whose handwriting this is.” Tapping a finger against the note, she said, “She’s right. Just a few months ago, I was huffing and puffing my way through my debut against Starburst. And before that, my life was just passing me by because I don’t think I understood who I am. Who I could be. I’m not sure I should be so definite here, but these chances like this don’t come often. I have to seize this opportunity. It won’t come easy. But this right here is my story, my life, and yeah, this might be my only chance for it. I’m choosing to rise and become a champion this city can be proud of.” Tucking the note back away, she then slid off the chair onto her feet. She didn’t fall on her face on camera, fortunately. “I hope that’s okay with you. But either way, that’s who I am. A champion in the making. The future. Whatever else others want to say.” Danny Levi’s specter remained, and so maybe it didn’t have to be one thing or other. Adrienne could fall in love with this business, and at the same time, she could take everything he had ever had. His claim to fame. His success. And more… Adrienne Levi’s mouth twisted in a slightly mischievous smile. Knowing she could get away with this, and it would infuriate him. “Maybe at the end of the night, you’ll just call me Magnificent.”

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dimensiontripperhibiki · 7 years

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Let It Burn (44/?)

Next chapter of Let It Burn, thanks a lot for reading and of course all of your questions/suggestions/headcanons. I do love answering them so feel free to keep ‘em coming. Hope you guys enjoy the chapter. Warning(s): Sexual scenes, Blood play maybe, Biting, drinking blood. And violence of course.

Riko wasn’t all that surprised when she woke to the scent of fresh paint. She supposed she was getting used to it after rooming with Hibiki for the past 2 weeks. Even when the girl wasn’t having visions, she was constantly painting or sketching something. She sat up, yawning and rubbing her eyes. She thought briefly of getting up and making the trek downstairs to make herself some coffee. It still felt a little strange to be in the house of someone who was virtually a stranger. She hadn’t even really spoken much to the members of the other group. She’d only had fleeting conversations with them. She had just slung her legs over the side of the bed when she finally looked around. Any thought she’d had of getting coffee slipped away when she noticed Hibiki painting on the walls around them. Almost every part of the walls were painted but it was what was on them that concerned her. Rin, wearing a yellow suit with a lightning bolt on the chest, facing a manic looking girl Riko didn’t recognize. She certainly recognized the woman who lay dead in the background though. Sonoda Kasumi.

“Shit…” Riko breathed as she inched away from the bed, noticing Hibiki was still in a trance like state. She bolted for the door, not bothering to pause to change from her nightwear. She headed down the hallway, in her haste not bothering to pause to knock on Future Honoka’s door before she burst into the room. Honoka and Nozomi were still in bed, the former kissing the latter’s neck as she pressed against her from behind. Riko noticed that while both were fully dressed, Nozomi had buried her face into her pillow and was gasping softly as Honoka’s hand moved under the blankets. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” She clamped her hand over her eyes and turned away for good measure. “What the hell?!” Riko winced at the anger in Future Honoka’s voice. “S-Sorry, it’s Hibiki-chan. She’s painting again. I think you need to see this. It’s about Rin.” Future Honoka groaned in response. So much for her idea of spending the early hours of the morning in bed with Nozomi. “Sorry.” She whispered to the blushing girl in her arms. She slipped out of bed and headed for the door. “Nozomi, let the others know we need them in Riko’s room. Make sure you find Rei and Yume. We’ll need them too.” “Right.” Nozomi answered as she too got out of bed. Future Honoka followed Riko to her bedroom. She wasn’t sure what she expected to see when she got there but nothing could have prepared her for the painting on the wall. Her chest seized with panic as it always did when she saw Tsubasa but the look on the A-Rise members’ face made it all the more terrifying. “Sonoda.” Future Honoka stepped closer to the wall Hibiki was painting on, noticing vaguely that the artist was still going. “Are you kidding me?” “I figured you might say something like that.” Riko mumbled, glancing at Hibiki in concern. She hoped she would stop soon. Behind her, Future Honoka heard the others rush into the room. Looking back at them, she noticed Kotori, Maki, Rin, Nico and Hanayo were all missing. Yume’s eyes widened and she quickly took out her cell phone. “Someone hacked into my doc...MAKI!” Rei cringed as her daughter’s name was mentioned. Of course her daughter would be up to something. “We don’t know that.” Nozomi nervously cleared her throat. “Maki isn’t in her room.” “REI!” Yume exclaimed, her face turning red with outrage. Rei winced. There was only so much she could say to defend her daughter in a situation like this. “I’m sure she had a reason.” “A REASON?!” Yume exclaimed angrily, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. “Kasumi cannot be killed! That dream is one of the worst I’ve had and you know that!” “Then Rin-san is supposed to stop her…” The group’s attention turned to Chika who had spoken up softly. She was staring at the wall with wide eyes, her hand grasping her head. “Chika-chan…” Riko gasped, hurrying to Chika’s side. Honoka and Kanan moved at the same time, making their way to Chika. “What the hell is she wearing?” Eli asked skeptically as she eyed the painting. “It’s a costume.” Umi sighed in exasperation. “Have you met Rin? She loves comics. Kotori probably made it for her.” “And now your daughter is dragging mine into her rebellion!” Yume pointed out in annoyance. “As soon as I find out where they are, I’m putting a stop to this.” Rei groaned at the comment. She was doing her utmost to keep Yume from interfering with Maki and Kotori’s relationship but Maki wasn’t exactly making it easy for her. “Even I know Kotori well enough to know she won’t be roped into anything she doesn’t want to do.” “I mean it this time, Rei. I’m done being patient with this.” Yume growled before she turned back to the painting. “We need to find out where they are before they get themselves killed.” “Well I don’t see Maki and the others in the painting.” Rei pointed out, noticing that Yume seemed to be backing away from the topic of Kotori’s relationship with Maki. “So…” She trailed off at the sound of Hibiki’s paintbrush clattering to the floor. “Whoa!” Future Honoka exclaimed as Hibiki swayed on the spot. She caught her quickly as she fell. “Guess she’s done.” Nozomi watched as Honoka picked Hibiki up and walked across the room to the bed, gently setting her down on it. Despite the situation she felt the corners of her lips twitch slightly. Even after everything she had been through, Honoka could still be sweet and gentle at times. “As I was saying, we need to find the others.” Yume said impatiently. She glanced at Rei. “Do you think Arisa could…” “No.” Rei interrupted sharply. “No she can’t.” Yume sighed in response. “Well we need her to so we can stop this. I’m not asking, Rei. You need to do what you usually do and set your personal feelings aside. You had no problem doing it when you wanted to use Nico for her blood.” Eli frowned at the discussion. “Don’t you think you should ask me or my dad instead if you want to use my sister’s ability?” “My apologies. You’re right, of course.” Yume said politely as she turned to Eli. “I only asked Rei because she’s practically your mom at this point. We need to find Rin, Eli. Arisa is the only person who can do that.” “I suppose...as long as it’s only Rin she’s looking for and not Sonoda. I don’t want her trying to find her after last time.” Eli shuddered to think what could have happened. “Of course.” Yume said while Rei gave a heavy sigh in response. “I’ll ask your father too, of course.” “Thank you.” Eli said quietly. She wasn’t entirely sure her decision was the right one but she knew they couldn’t leave Rin out there alone. She felt a hand slip into her own and looked down, following the arm up to Umi who looked equally as anxious. “We need to move fast.” Future Honoka ordered as she walked away from the bed. “Right, everyone get dressed. If you have orders, you’ll hear from us.” Rei declared, casting an irritated look at Yume before she headed for the door. ---- “I don’t want you to go.” Honoka blurted out suddenly as she watched Eli tug on her jacket. She noticed the blonde falter slightly in her movements before she turned around to face her. “Eli-senpai…” “You know I have to.” Eli said gently, noticing that Honoka was wringing her hands in front of her. She stepped forward, taking them in her own. “I have to go and save Rin.” “So I’ll go instead.” Honoka said quickly, gripping Eli’s warm hands back. “You should be here, protecting Yuki and Umi-chan and the others.” “They need someone with an offensive ability.” Eli pointed out softly. “I’m sorry, Honoka. I have to go, I don’t have a choice. If I could stay here with you, Umi and Yuki I would. You know I would.” Honoka nodded and threw her arms around Eli’s neck, hugging her tightly. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid. Don’t throw yourself into danger, I can’t...I can’t lose you too. You almost died the last time you went on a mission.” “For you.” Eli said softly, hugging Honoka back with one arm while she used her other hand to gently brush over Honoka’s hair. “I’ll be more careful this time. So I can come back home to you, Umi and Yuki.” “Promise me.” Honoka said firmly, hugging Eli tighter. “Promise me you’ll come back.” Eli caught the breathy tone of Honoka’s voice, letting her know her girlfriend was panicking. “Shhh.” She hushed gently, drawing back slightly. As much as she could anyway, with Honoka holding onto her so tightly. She was used to it. Honoka still had nightmares about Yukiho’s death. She would wake up, distraught and trembling, seeking out the comfort of either Eli or Umi. Looking for reassurances that they were still there and they wouldn’t leave her. The nightmares were less frequent with Yuki there but they still happened. “Listen to me, Honoka. I swear I’m gonna come back. I have to.” “But what if you don’t?” Honoka insisted frantically. “I don’t know what I would do if I lost you, Eli-senpai. Sonoda is crazy. She almost killed you last time.” “My mom almost killed me last time.” Eli said softly, brushing Honoka’s hair back from her face. “I know it’s dangerous. But it’s something I have to do. Nothing’s going to keep me from coming home to you. And Nico’s going to be there. She’s not going to let anything happen to me.” Honoka wanted to argue but she knew there was nothing she could say to change Eli’s mind about going. She gripped the lapels of Eli’s black jacket and pulled her in, kissing her deeply. Eli’s arms went around Honoka in turn, holding her close as she kissed her back. Slowly, she drew away and pressed her forehead to Honoka’s. “I love you.” Honoka blushed at Eli’s expression of love. “I love you too.” She reached up to cup Eli’s cheek in her hand and kissed her again, slower this time. “You have to come back. So the four of us can get out of here after this is over. I want to live with you, Umi-chan and Yuki. By ourselves, not...like this. I want to go somewhere where we can be ourselves and be together and...what I’m saying is I want a life with you and Umi. I want it all. A house and maybe more kids.” Eli stayed silent, waiting with baited breath. “I’m so happy with you and Umi-chan. I’m so in love with both of you.” Honoka confessed, her voice hitching slightly. “I know Kotori-chan and Maki-chan are getting married and it might seem like I’m saying this because of them but I would marry you right now if it didn’t mean I’d have to choose between you and Umi-chan.” Eli felt her face flush crimson. “Honoka…” “I just wanted you to know that. Before you leave.” Honoka said with a slight shrug of her shoulders. “I’m coming back.” Eli said firmly. She wrapped Honoka in another strong embrace before she reluctantly drew away. “Go and find Umi, okay? I’ll be back before you know it.” “Right.” Honoka closed her eyes as Eli kissed her once more. When she opened them, the blonde was gone. ---- “Eternal, can you hear me?” Nico winced as she heard Maki’s voice in her head. She slid down from Rin’s back. “Fuck you, why couldn’t you give me the codename Invincible or Unbreakable? Anything but Eternal.” “I come up with the best codenames, nya!” Rin announced out loud. “Shhh!” Nico hissed in annoyance. “In your head, Rin! We’re going to get caught if you’re not quiet!” “Yeah, yeah.” Rin thought back, a frown on her face. She didn’t see how they would get caught, given that they had just run up the side of a skyscraper. They had only just gotten to the roof when Maki had spoken. “Eternal suits you, nya. I make the best superhero names.” “No you don’t.” Maki argued. “Whatever you say Thinker!” Rin retorted. Nico snorted out loud in amusement. “She has a point there. Isn’t that a villain name?” “Nico, shut up.” Maki responded. “I’m just saying…” “Kotori thought of it so shut it!” Nico rolled her eyes at the explanation. Of course that was the reason Maki was getting so defensive. “You’re so whipped.” Maki scoffed. “Look who’s talking. Phase tells me she tops.” Rin smirked. “Ha, even I top!” Maki’s eyes widened in surprise. She wasn’t entirely sure she had even heard Rin right for a moment but noticing Kotori looked just as astonished, she assumed she had. “Do you even know what you’re talking about?” “Making out. Duh.” Hanayo growled under her breath. “Bolt, you need to focus on the mission at hand. You too, Nico-chan.” “What? Don’t blame me for this!” Nico thought back defensively. “They’re the ones who started talking about sex. Blame Thinker for bringing it up!” “We ALL need to focus.” Kotori, who had been silent up until that point finally voiced her opinion. “Are you two on the roof yet?” “Yeah.” Rin answered, glancing at Nico. “Do we know where in the building Sonoda is?” “The taller building next door.” Maki answered seriously. “Second floor from the top, there’s an office. I told Nico where it is so she’ll point it out.” “That one.” Nico said quietly as she pointed out one of the middle windows of the CORPS building. “Seventh from the left.” Rin hummed in thought. “How are you going to get through, nya? I can just phase.” Nico shook her head. “You don’t need to phase, just throw me at the window.” “Eeeh?!” Rin exclaimed loudly, earning herself a glare from Nico. “That’ll set off the alarms.” “So? Just throw me and then get over there, okay? Throw me hard. We don’t know what kind of glass it’s going to be.” “How am I gonna throw you though?! I don’t have super strength. I know you’re small but...nya!” Rin jumped back slightly as Nico let out an angry growl. “Do I have to spell everything out for you?” Nico rubbed her temples. By the time they got into the building it would be too late. “Don’t you…’heroes’ have some kind of extra strength? Just throw me and hurry up about it. Build up speed and throw me. It’s simple.” “Okay, okay.” Rin took a deep breath. “Stay here.” She took off running and Nico watched Rin’s orange streak lap around the roof five times within as many seconds. She almost gasped when Rin ran into her, picking her up. She supposed it was fortunate that the wind didn’t bother her eyes because she couldn’t afford to close them. Rin looped several more times before she reached the edge of the roof and threw Nico off. Rin repeated her lap once more and then jumped off after Nico, speeding up her molecules to phase through the glass as it shattered, flying toward her. She sped through the window, catching Nico before the girl hit the ground. Nico couldn’t deny that she was impressed. Her face and hands had still been cut by the glass but at least she hadn’t broken anything by hitting the floor at such a high speed. Within a few seconds her cuts were gone, leaving only blood in their wake. “FREEZE! INTRUDERS!” Nico drew her knives from her belt and threw them at the guards, hitting them square in their hearts. “Well well…” “A-Anju-taichou.” An agent stuttered as Anju stepped away from the desk where Sonoda Kasumi was sitting. “A speedster and the indestructible one.” Anju remarked as she paced forward. She stood in front of Kasumi’s desk, her arms crossed in front of her face and an amused smirk on her face. “I’m the Bolt!” Rin exclaimed defensively. “Fuck.” Nico breathed out. “Eternal. And we’re here to save Sonoda Kasumi so step out of the way.” Anju looked briefly taken aback. Not for long though. “Bullshit. And the Bolt, really? Silly girl, superheroes aren’t real.” She paced forward, taking a sword from one of the agents. “This should do just fine.” ---- Hanayo growled as she typed at her keyboard, her eyes on her computer screen. “Why can’t I hear them?” “Because I’ve closed the channel between you and them.” Maki answered, looking up. “I need to focus and you seem really angry at the moment. I don’t need that in my mind right now.” Hanayo sighed loudly. “I need to go to the gym. I can’t be any use here.” “Don’t get caught, Hanayo.” Maki warned as Hanayo started walking away. Hanayo waved Maki off and jogged up the stairs. She phased through the door only to come face to face with Future Honoka and Eli who were approaching it. In surprise, she stopped using her ability and Honoka took the chance to grab her arm. “Where is she?” When Hanayo didn’t answer she gave the girl a light shake. “Answer me, Hanayo!” Hanayo stuttered out the coordinates as well as the floor number and office and Honoka grabbed Eli’s arm before she teleported all three of them to the room. The room was in chaos when they got there. Rin was running around, taking down agents as they entered the room and Nico was repeatedly slamming what seemed to be herself against the wall. “CHANGE BACK TO THE ORIGINAL, I’M NOT IN THE MOOD FOR YOUR FUCKING MIND GAMES!” Rin suddenly appeared in front of them, a bit flushed. “What’s going on? Why are you here? Kayo-chin?” Hanayo shrugged sheepishly and looked around for Sonoda. She was standing behind her desk, a puzzled look on her face. She didn’t look especially concerned though. Future Honoka strode over to Sonoda’s desk, punching a remaining guard in the face when he tried to intercept her. “If you don’t get the hell out of here you’re going to die. Do you understand?” Kasumi raised an eyebrow in response. “Tell me, is this because of some kind of precognitive vision from Yume, you know they aren’t always accurate?” Future Honoka shook her head. “It’s from someone else, with a stronger precognitive ability.” Kasumi didn’t look surprised. “You mean Ryo’s kid. The painter?” “Enough of this!” Honoka growled angrily. “You either come with us or…” She was cut off by the sound of a scream from the doorway. She turned quickly in time to see a red streak go past her. A second later, Rin was unconscious on the ground. “I was going to do this earlier but it was fun watching Bolt and...Eternal, was it?” Tsubasa said in amusement as she came to a stop over Rin’s body. She kicked her, rolling her onto her back. “Super speed...this should be useful.” Eli clenched her hands into fists, going up in flames. Tsubasa turned on the spot and paced over to Kasumi’s desk. “So are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way?” She threateningly raised her hand. “Where is she?” “I’m not telling you, Tsubasa so please put your hand down.” Kasumi replied calmly. Tsubasa growled under her breath. “I really hate you, ya know? Who the hell are you to give me orders?” Honoka swung her fist toward Tsubasa, intending to punch her but the girl disappeared suddenly, reappearing behind Kasumi. She remembered with a sinking feeling that Tsubasa had taken her ability back when her past self had went after Kasumi. “You took my ability…” “I wonder what’s in this head. Your power must be exquisite. In fact I never got the chance to copy the telepath. Such a passive ability needs more...physical tampering. One can’t just look at it.” Tsubasa commented, mostly to herself. “MORE POWERS, THAT’S ALL SHE NEEDS!” Nico, who had effectively knocked Anju out, tossed her aside and started over to Eli and Future Honoka. Tsubasa raised her hand, revealing a knife. She turned Kasumi around and lifted the blade, pressing it to the woman’s forehead. “Honoka!” Eli cried out, giving Honoka a harsh shove to get her attention. Honoka came to her senses and stopped time. She experienced a moment of shock when she saw Tsubasa still moving but then her shock was replaced with disgust as Kasumi started screaming. She looked away, feeling bile rush to her throat as Tsubasa used her ability to wrench Kasumi’s skull open much like she had with Chika. Kasumi went silent and as she stood there Honoka felt time unfreeze around her. Eli and Nico were both shocked to see Tsubasa shove Kasumi onto the desk, her skull open. Nico turned on Honoka. “What the fuck did you do?!” “She could move through my time freeze, I couldn’t…” Honoka trailed off, shaking her head. “I couldn’t stop her!” “Of course she could move, she has your ability!” Eli exclaimed in disdain. “And she has super speed! You were meant to teleport behind her and get her out of here! How could you be so...so…” “Stupid.” Nico finished for Eli who trailed off, her teeth gritted in anger. “Do you even know what this means?” Behind the desk, Tsubasa laughed darkly. “So the telepath has been here the whole time? I can hear you, Nishikino.” Maki felt her heart skip a beat in her chest. “Nico, what the hell is going on?!” “Shit.” Nico cursed, her eyes still fixated to Tsubasa. “What?” Maki insisted hurriedly. “She’s dead, Maki.” Nico thought back to Maki, her hands clenching into fists. “There’s nothing we can do to stop her now.” “I’m glad you realize that.” The sound of Tsubasa’s voice in her head sent shivers through Maki’s body but she refused to answer. “Where is Rin?” Nico looked away from Tsubasa’s manic eyes. She couldn’t look at her anymore. “She’s knocked ou...HANAYO, BEHIND YOU!” Hanayo turned to see a guard rushing for her. In her panic, she phased through the floor. Eli threw herself forward, hitting the guard in the face with a flaming fist. He landed next to Rin, out cold. “Now I can find Erena.” Tsubasa said to herself. “Over my dead body.” Nico scowled, stepping forward with her fists clenched. Tsubasa smirked. “You know I could take your ability but I quite like the ones I have now. Maybe if I cut you open and examine your brain’s nerves I could learn it.” Nico was about to make a scathing retort when Tsubasa ran out of the room, using her newfound speed to do so. “What do we do now?” Eli stared at the ground, her body still engulfed in flames. “I don’t think there’s anything we can do.” Nico said hesitantly, glancing at where Hanayo had fallen through the floor. She hoped she was okay. “Guess we just wait around for her to come for us.” She sighed and went to Rin’s side, kneeling down next to her. “The mission is a failure, Thinker. Bolt is fucked up.” Maki cleared her throat. “From what I can tell, Phase has fallen several stories. I can’t get a read on her right now but I think she’s okay. How the hell did this happen?” “Why don’t you tell us that, Honoka?” Eli turned on Honoka, her eyes blazing with silent anger. “How the hell did this happen?!” “I told you, s-she was just too fast. I choked, I didn’t know she had gotten this powerful this fast. It took me years to learn how to master the time stops. I’m sorry.” Honoka stuttered, her eyes wide. “You could have teleported behind her, you could have grabbed Kasumi and left. You could have done SOMETHING!” Eli was on the verge of yelling as she stepped toward Honoka. “You’re meant to be the best, you’re meant to be the one who’s going to SAVE us and you can’t even…” “Eli.” Nico warned, looking up. “Stop. You’re just scared.” “DAMN RIGHT I’M FUCKING SCARED!” Eli yelled, her flames darkening slightly to a murkier blue. She kept her attention focused on Honoka though. “I know you could have stopped her! I know you could have done something but you didn’t want to, did you?” Future Honoka took a small step back, her heart pounding frantically against her chest. It was like Eli could see right through her. “No. I didn’t. I let her…” Eli surged forward and grabbed Honoka by the jacket, shoving her hard into the closest wall. “Do you know what you’ve done? She could kill us all.” “Eli.” Honoka choked out, her eyes filling with tears as she grasped at Eli’s wrist. It seemed the blonde had no intention at all of letting go “I’m sorry, she was too fast. I couldn’t have stopped her.” “You didn’t TRY!” Eli exclaimed loudly. “You could have at least tried! Now she’s going to come for us. She could come for my family! Honoka, Umi, Yuki, Arisa, my dad, NOZOMI!” Honoka gasped as Eli’s flames licked at her skin and clothes, lighting the clothes and scorching her skin. “E-Eli-senpai.” “Eli, STOP!” Nico threw herself at Eli and knocked her backwards, away from Honoka who quickly patted her clothes to put herself out. “Are you insane? What the hell are you doing?! Maki, talk to her!” “She’s faster than Honoka, Eli. She would have gotten away anyway.” Maki directed her thoughts toward Eli whose flames lessened slightly. “She’s tapped into the fastlane, she’s faster than any of us can stop right now. We weren’t training to deal with this. We need to do that if we want to contain Tsubasa.” “R-Right.” Eli looked at Honoka, at the burns on her skin. Burns from her own hands. “Honoka…” “I’ll go and find Hanayo.” Honoka’s voice was slightly choked but Eli couldn’t see her eyes. She was looking away. “Nico, get Rin and Eli outside. Please.” She left the room without waiting for an answer. “You’ve gotten slower.” Honoka flinched as Maki’s voice filled her mind. “How do you know?” “I’ve been studying Rin for a while.” Maki explained. “You know she can even phase like Hanayo now. I know she’s faster than you but I also know that you really hate Sonoda.” “Ugh, I hate that you can tap into my thoughts.” Honoka paused at the end of the hallway, looking this way and that before she continued on ahead. “It’s understandable after what she did to your Umi and Eli. What’s she’s done to Kotori and my Honoka…” “ENOUGH!” Honoka exclaimed out loud, gripping her head. “I didn’t LET her die, okay? Just leave me alone.” “All I’m saying is deep down you want her dead.” Honoka growled angrily. “I didn’t want it. In the end, I was just slower than Tsubasa. Just like you said. I haven’t trained with a speedster ability user in a long time.” Maki hummed in response. She was skeptical but didn’t argue. “Hanayo is outside. Everyone else is waiting for you so get out of the building.” “Everyone else…?” “Nozomi too.” Maki answered, knowing what Honoka would want to know. “How did she…?” “She found where we were hiding out and forced us to tell her.” Maki said with a wince. “Besides, she said she could...feel you or something. I don’t know, just hurry up and get out there. She’s waiting.” Future Honoka didn’t waste another second before she teleported herself out of the building. She stumbled a little, grabbing her head. “What the hell…?” “Senpai!” Honoka looked up in time to see Nozomi rushing toward her. The girl collided with her hard and hugged her as tightly as she could. Honoka felt her throat constrict, her eyes stinging with tears. She vaguely felt time freeze around her before her knees buckled beneath her and she collapsed to the ground, Nozomi going with her. She buried her face in Nozomi’s shoulder, sobbing quietly. Nozomi rubbed Honoka’s back, her own eyes smarting with tears which she blinked back. She could feel Honoka’s pain even though she was trying to block it out so she could focus on helping her. When Honoka quietened just a bit, Nozomi spoke up. “You in time out again?” Honoka nodded silently. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” “She’s dead. I let it happen. I wasn’t fast enough. I wouldn’t have been but I could have tried. But I wanted to see her die. For Umi-chan, for Eli-senpai, for Kotori-chan. She hurt them all and I wanted to see her dead. Like them.” Honoka pulled back, gripping the front of Nozomi’s shirt. “I just wanted it to be fair, Nozomi. I wanted her to suffer. You understand, don’t you? Please say you understand, I can’t take you hating me too.” “Shh.” Nozomi gently soothed Honoka, brushing her hair back from her face. “I could never hate you. Of course I understand. What happened?” Her gaze flitted down from Honoka’s eyes, just briefly and she did a double take at the sight of burns on her skin. “Elichi…?” Honoka’s lower lip trembled. “She hates me.” She managed to force out, her voice thick with tears. “My Eli-senpai never...she never...I don’t know what I’m going to do, I can’t…” “Hey, hey. It’s okay.” Nozomi’s heart seized in her chest as Honoka’s breathing grew ragged and fast, her chest heaving. “It’s okay. Just breathe. It’s okay. Elichi doesn’t hate you. Just breathe with me, okay? I’m here, you’re safe.” “But Eli-senpai…” Nozomi cursed under her breath. “Your Eli-senpai loves you. That’s all that matters, alright?” She gently rubbed Honoka’s back, trying to calm her down. “Elichi doesn’t understand. She can’t. But from what you’ve said, I know that your Eli could never hate you. I’m right, aren’t I?” Honoka nodded tearfully. “But I don’t want any Eli to hate me.” Nozomi drew Honoka into another tight embrace and cursed Eli under her breath. It was amazing and painful to see, that Eli could reduce the usually strong and composed Honoka to a small, frightening child in minutes. Without even meaning to, most likely. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you.” ---- Nico stood in the doorway to the infirmary, her gaze fixed to Hanayo who was sitting at the side of Erena’s bed. Hanayo seemed to be watching the girl intently. “Why did you save her?” Hanayo flinched in surprise at the sound of Nico’s voice. She looked up, forcing a slight smile to her lips. “Because it was the right thing to do. She was being tortured in there.” Nico hummed and walked further into the room. “But the psychopath wants her.” “That’s why it’ll be good to tell her we have her.” Hanayo said reasonably. “Leverage?” Nico asked, raising an eyebrow. “Yes.” “Fuck, people should never underestimate you.” Nico said, slightly awed by the girl next to her. Hanayo smirked and shrugged her shoulders in response. “It was the right thing to do anyway. We’re not going to let Tsubasa take her.” “So...Rin was taken to the future painter’s room.” Nico said, squeezing herself into the seat next to Hanayo. Hanayo growled under her breath. “It’s weird to see you think angry.” Nico said with a slight chuckle. “Should I be worried?” Hanayo shook her head. “She just pisses me off. What she’s doing to Rin-chan…” Nico watched the way Hanayo’s hands curled into fists. “Cursing too. Now I’m definitely worried.” “Nico-chan.” Hanayo sighed in exasperation. “I’m sorry.” Nico mumbled, leaning in to press a kiss to Hanayo’s shoulder. “Did the fall hurt much?” “Only when I hit the floor.” Hanayo joked. “I’m fine, just bruised is all. Rei-san thinks I cracked a rib.” Nico thought for a moment. “I have an idea.” “Wha…?” Hanayo gasped as Nico suddenly moved on top of her, straddling her legs. She was shocked but she grasped the girl’s hips anyway, to steady her. “Nico-chan?” “Bite me.” Nico whispered, pulling her turtle neck down. She brushed aside her hair, having left it down after she’d showered to wash all of the blood away. “Huh?!” “Bite me.” Nico repeated patiently. “I want you to take my blood. So you can heal. Please, Hanayo.” Hanayo swallowed thickly, her gaze shifting to Nico’s neck. “It’ll hurt a lot. If I’m the one who does it. You can feel when I touch you so...” “I want it to hurt a lot.” Nico interrupted quickly. “Come on. Just do it.” Hanayo didn’t have it in her to argue with Nico anymore. Leaning forward, she kissed Nico’s neck before she began to suck, taking her time to build up pressure. Nico sighed and closed her eyes. Hanayo was right, it did hurt. But it felt good too. “Just like that.” She mumbled, feeling Hanayo start to use her teeth. Hanayo bit down sharply without warning and heard Nico release a soft moan at the feeling. She couldn’t resist the urge to phase her hands under the girl’s sweater and bra, her fingers sliding over her breasts. She shuddered as Nico arched into the touch. She felt Nico’s hand sliding into hair and then she tasted blood and simultaneously felt it on her lips. She sucked hard, feeling the warm liquid spill onto her tongue. Nico turned her head and pressed her mouth to her shoulder, trying to suppress a rising moan. She whimpered as Hanayo continued to suck and without thinking about it, she began to grind down against Hanayo’s lap, gently at first until Hanayo noticed and started to help guide her movements. She felt Hanayo start to pull away and pressed a hand to the back of her head, urging her back. “More.” She insisted softly. Hanayo seemed all too willing to do as she was told and went back to it without hesitation as Nico rocked her hips back and forth against her lap. The soft gasps and whimpers coming from Nico were intoxicating, she thought as she squeezed at Nico’s breast. She slipped her free hand between them and phased it through Nico’s pants, eagerly brushing her fingers through Nico’s folds. She hissed, surprised to find how aroused Nico was already. She rubbed lightly back and forth for a moment before slipping two fingers into Nico. Nico cried out, the sound muffled by her own shoulder as she started to grind down relentlessly against Hanayo’s fingers. Hanayo kept going, addicted to the taste of Nico’s skin and the feeling of her blood, slipping over her tongue. It didn’t take long for Nico to tense, bucking against her hand as she moaned softly to herself. Slowly, Hanayo stopped sucking and Nico shrunk forward against her, exhausted. Hanayo gently kissed Nico’s neck, watching the pierced skin heal. “Do you feel better?” Nico asked, panting softly against Hanayo’s shoulder. “Much.” Hanayo said with a small smile. “Me too.” Nico mumbled. ---- Hibiki woke to an ache in her head and a subtle dryness in her throat. The aftermath of her visions always felt something like a headache. She looked down, finding an arm curled around her waist and her brow furrowed in confusion. She was in her room so she couldn’t help but wonder if it was Riko who had inadvertently embraced her in her sleep. She turned over, slowly, already planning how she would make a quick getaway if it was Riko. She froze in place when she found Rin lying next to her instead, her face, arms and what Hibiki could see of her shoulders and chest above her tank top bruised. The bruises were healing quicker than normal thanks to Rin’s ability but Hibiki shuddered to think how bad they must have been. Hibiki looked around and noticed F!Honoka and Nozomi sitting against the wall a few feet from the bed. Both looked exhausted and Honoka looked injured. Hibiki could see a few burns scattered on Honoka’s neck, shoulders and upper chest. “What happened?” Future Honoka looked up from Nozomi, whose head was resting on one of the arms Honoka had wrapped around her knees to hold them close to her chest. “Rin? She wouldn’t go to her room. She wanted you. You saved her. We um...couldn’t stop Tsubasa.” “Oh.” Was all Hibiki could think to say to that. She didn’t really need to say anything else. Future Honoka hummed softly in response, her gaze returning to Nozomi. Hibiki took another moment to look around the room before she looked to the two of them again. “Is she out? Rin too?” “Rin was knocked out, Nozomi is just sleeping.” Future Honoka said softly. “She wanted to wait in here for Rin to wake up.” Her brow furrowed slightly in confusion. Both she and Nozomi knew that her past self would be waiting for the blonde to get back yet Nozomi had insisted she wait in the room with her. Hibiki nodded and looked at Rin. “Is Nico-chan okay?” “Yeah, she’s fine. She’s with Hanayo.” Hibiki shivered at the mention of Hanayo’s name. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, the girl scared her.

“Are you okay?” Honoka asked in concern, having noticed the shiver. Hibiki nodded silently. Honoka was silent too for a few long moment until she spoke again. “What else have you drawn?” “Death mostly.” Hibiki said softly. “I even drew the death of my mother. That was after she took me away from my father.” Honoka bit the inside of her cheek. “I’m sorry.” She watched Hibiki shrug her shoulders and noticed the vulnerability in the girl’s eyes. “It’s all a front with you, isn’t it? The sarcasm and cockiness. Building up walls so nobody will get to know who you really are.” Hibiki rolled her eyes. “Thank you, Miss obvious.” “Hey.” Honoka said gently. “Sorry.” Hibiki sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. “I’m not used to talking to people. Besides Rin and sometimes Riko.” “So...who killed your mom?” Honoka asked rather bluntly. “My birth.” Hibiki answered hesitantly. “She transferred her ability to me, making her weak and causing her lifespan to decrease.” “What?!” Future Honoka’s eyes widened in surprise. “My father is normal.” Hibiki said with a shrug of her shoulders. She continued after a moment. “Only male ability users can transfer abilities into a baby. They have more energy compared to women. Female ability users with a normal male can either have normal children or transfer their ability and lose it.” “I see.” Honoka mused thoughtfully. “Rin is right, you are smart.” “Not as smart as the nerd duo.” Hibiki muttered, leaning back against her pillows. “Maki and Hanayo?” Honoka guessed, raising an eyebrow. “Bingo.” Hibiki answered in the affirmative. “And I’m pretty sure Hanayo wants to kill me. Literally. Which makes how smart she is even scarier if I’m honest.” She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. “I hate this.” Honoka slowly shifted out from under Nozomi, making sure her girlfriend was steady before she got to her feet. “Can I hug you?” “What?!” Hibiki’s eyes snapped open. “You look like you need a hug.” Honoka clarified, taking a step forward toward the bed. “From someone who’s conscious. It’s been a long day, huh?” “Why would you…?” Hibiki shook her head in confusion. “Why would you want to?” “You remind me of myself, a little.” Honoka said sheepishly. “So it’s kind of like...I could see you as a kid sister in a way.” “I’m fifteen.” Hibiki pointed out. “I’m twenty.” Honoka countered. Hibiki sighed but relented. “F-Fine, if you want to.” Honoka crossed the room to the bed and leaned down, drawing Hibiki into a gentle embrace. The girl was stiff in her arms for a moment but finally relented, melting into the hug and burying her face in her shoulder. Hibiki took a shuddering breath. She’d always hated parental figures but this person seemed safe. She hugged her back, hesitantly. Nozomi opened her eyes slightly, having woken when Honoka had moved. She watched Honoka hug Hibiki thoughtfully. It was nice to see her girlfriend trying to befriend someone. For a while it had seemed like Honoka was intent on distancing herself from the group. Nozomi had been sure that what had happened with Eli would only make that worse. Her hands balled into fists at the thought. ----- Honoka was close to dozing off between her girlfriends on the bed when the door to her room flew open, startling her back to full consciousness. “Nozomi-chan!” She exclaimed when she looked to the doorway, finding Nozomi standing there. “Why did you open the door like that? You could have frightened Yuki!” “Yuki-chan is down the hallway with Kotori-chan and Raven-san. I saw her on the way past.” Nozomi said, stepping into the room without waiting for their permission. She focused on Eli who was staring at her silently. “I need to speak to you. Alone.” Eli stood from the bed, crossing her arms. She knew what Nozomi was going to say already. “You can say it in front of them, it’s fine.” “Honoka-chan shouldn’t be here for this.” Nozomi said steadily, her gaze fixed to Eli. “She’s fine.” Eli said again, refusing to back down. “Fine.” Nozomi replied through gritted teeth. She took a deep breath before she spoke again. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Eli sighed. “So you’re taking her side. I figured you might.” “This isn’t about sides. You burned her, Elichi!” Nozomi accused loudly, anger seeping into her voice. “That’s not okay!” “She let Sonoda DIE!” “Because of you! Sonoda had Arisa killed in the future. She did it because she hated Sonoda for you!” Nozomi’s voice gradually rose. She threw her arm out to the side, pointing at Umi who sat up straight, her eyes wide. “And she did it for Umi-chan. For everything that...evil woman did to her! She wasn’t being selfish. She didn’t even mean to let her die and yet you burned her!” “So I’ll apologize…” Eli said, a little taken aback by how angry Nozomi seemed to be. “I didn’t mean to, I was just angry.” “It’s too late to apologize! Do you know that she was so upset that time stopped itself so she didn’t tear a hole in the damn continuum?!” Nozomi growled, her hands curling into fists as she remembered how distraught Honoka had been. “When I found her, she couldn’t stop crying. Telling me you hated her and…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “You have no idea what you did to her.” Eli swallowed thickly. “All I did was yell at her and set her clothes on fire. She knows I can’t control my ability. Why does she even care wha…?” “Because she fucking loves you, you idiot! She worships you. You’re the closest thing she has to her Eli. You’re the closest thing she’s ever going to have again to the person she loved more than anyone else!” Nozomi exclaimed. She could barely believe Eli could be so oblivious. “She loves you just as much as Honoka-chan does, if not more. How do you think Honoka would feel if you burned her?” “E-Eli-senpai wouldn’t…” “Exactly!” Nozomi turned to Honoka who looked nothing short of startled. “You trust Elichi more than anyone else, don’t you? You feel safest with her.” Honoka hesitated for a moment before nodding. “And Umi-chan.” She mumbled, reaching for Umi’s hand. “That’s how Honoka felt.” Nozomi quietened down a bit as she looked back to Eli who seemed to be gradually realizing what she was saying. “Her Eli was her safe place. Her protector. And you hurt her, Elichi. Deeper than any burn you left her with.” “I’m sorry.” Eli mumbled, looking down at the floor. “I’m not the person you should be apologizing to.” Nozomi said sharply. She watched Eli flinched and sighed, forcing herself to soften her tone. “You’re my best friend and I don’t want to hurt you. But I love her. I know her better than you, better than any of you and I know how much you’ve hurt her. You need to fix this. The Elichi I know would want to fix this.” Leaving Eli to ponder that, she stormed out of the room, closing the door behind her. The room was silent for a moment, until Eli raised her eyes, cautiously looking to Honoka. “I would never…” “I know.” Honoka said as Eli’s voice cracked. She shifted away from Umi and patted the space between them. Eli crawled into it immediately, feeling arms go around her from the front and back. Umi pressing against her back and Honoka holding her close to her front. “I fucked up.” Eli whispered, thinking back to how Future Honoka had looked at her. She had called her Eli-senpai, pleading with her to stop. “I really really fucked up.” “You can fix it.” Honoka whispered, kissing Eli’s forehead. “I know she’ll listen to what you have to say if you go and talk to her. I would.” Eli gave a slight nod. “Umi?” She shifted, looking over her shoulder. “What do you think?” Umi smiled sadly. “I don’t think I’m in any position to give you advice about how not to hurt Honoka’s future self. Bit if anyone can fix this, it’s you. Honoka loves you in any timeline. Just talk to her.” “Thank you.” Eli gently pecked Umi on the lips before she turned to do the same with Honoka. “I don’t know what I’d do without the two of you.” ----- “What are you doing?” Future Honoka flinched, letting out a yell of surprise at the sound of someone’s voice from the doorway. She spun around, her hands half raised to defend herself but she relaxed when she noticed Rin standing in the doorway to the kitchen. “Rin! Don’t sneak up on people!” “I didn’t, nya!” Rin exclaimed, her eyes wide. She leaned to the left, trying to look past Honoka to see what she was doing. “What are you doing?” “Making tea.” Honoka answered simply. Rin stepped further into the kitchen, her nose scrunching up slightly. “It smells weird.” “It’s chamomile. Nozomi-chan used to make me drink it in the future. She said it’s calming.” Future Honoka answered as she watched Rin hop into one of the stools in the kitchen. “You’re not calm?” “No, I…” Honoka frowned, shaking her head. “What do you want?” Rin turned serious suddenly, clasping her hands in her lap. “I want to thank you.” Honoka shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve saved your ass. You were always getting into trouble in the future.” “It’s not just that, nya!” Rin exclaimed quickly. Honoka frowned at the younger girl. “Hm?” Rin took a deep breath. “I wanted to say...thank you for being nice to Hibiki. Earlier in the bedroom, I mean.” Honoka’s eyes widened in realization. “Oh god, you weren’t knocked out. You heard that. I thought you were asleep! You were faking?!” “Maybe.” Rin shrugged sheepishly. “Damn it.” Honoka muttered, pressing her hand lightly to her forehead. “Look, I just...thought she needed someone. I’m still me, you know. You still...know me.” Rin grinned and hopped down from her seat. “Yes you are.” Honoka took a step back as Rin paced forward. Her face flushed with embarrassment. “What do you want?” “A hug.” Rin declared. “No!” Honoka resolutely shook her head. “No more hugging today. I’m done.” Rin frowned, pausing in front of Honoka. “You gave Nozomi-chan a hug. And Hibiki.” Honoka was about to declare her innocence when she noticed something. “You know, I find it strange that you don’t call her Hibiki-chan.” “She’s cool.” Rin shrugged her shoulders. “It doesn’t fit her...NYA, don’t change the subject!” Honoka smirked at Rin’s annoyance. “You really like that girl.” “Stop changing the subject!” “Why? She is your...girlfriend, isn’t she?” Honoka had to admit that she did get a kick out of teasing Rin. It was something she’d never gotten to do with her Rin because the girl had never been in a relationship. “Shut up!” “Fine, I’ll stop.” Honoka smiled, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “But you have to tell me what she did to catch your attention so badly.” Rin huffed. “I-If you give me a hug I’ll tell you.” Honoka rolled her eyes. “Fine. Get over here.” She opened her arms though she wasn’t quite prepared for how quickly Rin flew into them. She winced though counted herself lucky that Rin hadn’t used her ability. She felt Rin’s arms go around her and tentatively hugged her back. She had intended to pull away after a few seconds but she didn’t, taking a moment to ponder the fact that while she and Rin had shared a deep respect for each other and cared for one another as friends and comrades, they had never really hugged much in the future. The moment was broken by Rin. “You’re a good hugger.” Honoka shook her head and carefully pulled away from the embrace. “So your turn.” Rin gave a shrug, a cheeky smile on her face. “You’ll just have to spend more time with Hibiki to find out. It’s worth it, nya.” “Eeeh?!” Honoka exclaimed, watching Rin run from the room in a streak of orange lightning. She shook her head, staring at where Rin had stood just a few seconds ago. “She’s probably going to go and find her now.” “I usually see her outside sketching.” Nozomi’s voice sounded, causing Honoka to turn toward the doorway. “I think Rin-chan finds her interesting because she’s different from her.” “So opposites attract.” Honoka elaborated thoughtfully. “Kind of like…” “You and me.” Nozomi finished Honoka’s sentence for her with a soft, albeit weary smile. She walked into the kitchen and stepped over to Honoka. “I don’t suppose you have one more hug left in you?” “For you? Always.” Honoka opened her arms and Nozomi stepped into them. Sighing blissfully, Honoka rested her chin atop Nozomi’s head, holding her close. “Rin isn’t the only one who saw what you did by the way.” Nozomi said softly, resting her head against Honoka’s chest. Honoka blushed. “Shit, this is ruining my image.” “Don’t be embarrassed. I find it adorable that you see her as a little sister.” Nozomi looked up, flashing a soft smile. “Ugh, you heard that part.” “Yes.” Nozomi leaned up, pressing a gentle kiss to Honoka’s lips. “You don’t have to worry about letting people in. You should, you don’t have to keep up this...facade.” Honoka worriedly bit her lip and shrugged her shoulders. “It’s okay.” Nozomi said quietly. She understood why Honoka would be reluctant to do so. She lifted her hand, brushing her fingers against Honoka’s cheek. Future Honoka caught Nozomi’s hand and held it to her face, turning to brush her lips against her palm. Her eyes locked intently with Nozomi’s and she held her stare for a few seconds before she spoke. “What’s wrong?” Nozomi shrugged her shoulders. She knew better than to say there was nothing wrong. It seemed Honoka could see right through her. “I talked to Elichi.” Honoka’s face fell at the mention of Eli’s name. “O-Oh?” “I couldn’t just leave it alone after what she did to you.” Nozomi said earnestly. “We argued. Umi was there too and she...I think she was trying to stay out of it. Elichi feels bad, she told me so in the end. She didn’t want to hurt you. I knew that would be the case but I needed her to understand what she’d done.” “Nozomi…” Honoka sighed softly and glanced down between them. “I didn’t need you to say anything to her. I’m an adult, I’ve dealt with worse than that.” “I don’t believe you.” Nozomi slid her arms around Honoka’s waist and gave her a gentle squeeze. “I know how you feel about your Eli. I know how much it hurt you for...Elichi to burn you. She needed to understand too.” Honoka wasn’t convinced but she didn’t attempt to argue. “I guess the argument made me think about how much I’ve changed over the past few months. I don’t want to stay the same.” Nozomi let go of Honoka and strode over to one of the drawers, emerging with a pair of scissors. Honoka straightened up in concern as Nozomi took her hair ties out. “Nozomi…” Nozomi gathered her hair in one hand and drew it around to the front as best she could. She cut it just below shoulder length with no hesitation. Honoka inhaled sharply as Nozomi let her cut hair fall to the floor. Her Nozomi had never done anything so drastic about her appearance. The most she had done was start wearing her hair in a single braid, or tied up. She walked over to Nozomi, reaching up to touch the shortened locks. Nozomi felt her heart wrench as moisture gathered at the corners of Honoka’s eyes. “W-What’s wrong?” Honoka shook her head. “I’m just...it’s nothing. You really are your own person.” She let her hand drift down to Nozomi’s shoulder where it lightly rested. “I’m...so in love with you, Nozomi. You’re my rock.” Nozomi’s chest tightened and she reached up to grasp Honoka’s hand on her shoulder. “And you’re mine. I love you too, Senpai.” Honoka smiled softly and leaned up to give Nozomi a tearful kiss. “You have to let me fix your hair a little though.” She whispered, drawing away ever so slightly. “To straighten it out.” Nozomi nodded and drew Honoka back to her, kissing her deeply. Her hair could wait, for now. ---- “Remind me again why we’re spying on Rin-chan and Hibiki-chan.” Nozomi requested from where she was sitting on the step outside of the back door with Future Honoka. It took Honoka a moment to realize that Nozomi had spoken. She’d been too busy watching Hibiki and Rin. Hibiki was sitting on the grass, while Rin was laying down, her head resting in Hibiki’s lap. “What? Oh. We’re not spying on them, we just happen to be out here at the same time. Do you think they’re actually dati-” She was cut off as Rin leaned up and Hibiki leaned down at the same time, pressing their lips gently together for a split second. “Nevermind.” Nozomi rolled her eyes. “Uh-huh.” “I never knew Rin was that smooth.” Honoka said thoughtfully as watched Rin place her head back in Hibiki’s lap. Nozomi shrugged her shoulders. “She’s never been attracted to anyone before. Those two must talk a lot under our noses.” “I think they’re cute.” Honoka decided as she watched them. “Hibiki is calm, she’s good for Rin. Like fire and water.” “Hibiki is water.” Nozomi chimed in with a nod of her head. “She can adjust to change. Rin is...definitely fire.” Honoka hummed in acknowledgement and leaned into Nozomi’s side, resting her head on her shoulder. She smiled faintly, feeling Nozomi tilt her head to rest it against hers. Hibiki looked up with a sigh. “We can hear you, you know. Do you find us especially interesting or something?” “Uh-oh.” Nozomi mumbled, detecting the defensive tone in Hibiki’s voice. “Now you’ve done it.” Rin sat up, a slight concerned look on her face. She knew Hibiki wasn’t good with people. She gave the girl’s arm a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “Did you need something, Honoka-chan?” Honoka shook her head. “No, we’re fine. We just felt like getting some air. Right, Nozomi?” “Uh...right. Sure.” Nozomi said with a roll of her eyes. Honoka was so obvious, at least to her. “We weren’t doing anything.” Hibiki frowned, seemingly not believing Honoka. “We were just talking about uh...London. I used to live there.” Future Honoka brightened at the new information. “Oh, how long did you live there? If you don’t mind me asking?” Deciding not to butt into the conversation, Nozomi elected to listen silently. It was better that way, she figured, seeing as Hibiki had only just grown more comfortable with Honoka and she didn’t know her all that well yet. “Since I was four.” Hibiki answered, raising her voice a bit to be heard. “My mom took me away from my dad after they divorced.” “Why?” “Because my dad wanted to use me for his benefit.” Hibiki got to her feet, stretching slightly and Rin stood up next to her. Rin growled under her breath. She’d heard plenty about that scumbag. As Hibiki walked tentatively closer to Honoka and Nozomi, she followed close behind. “So why are you here then?” Honoka asked in confusion. “Because my father demanded it.” Hibiki sighed in response, glancing at Rin. She paused once she was closer to Honoka. “He’s working with CORPS as a donor.” “Oh.” Honoka mused, taking a moment to think about that. Nozomi cleared her throat, taking advantage of the brief silence. “I’m meant to be meeting with Kotori.” She said softly. She leaned in, fleetingly kissing Honoka’s cheek. “I’ll see you later.” Hibiki watched Nozomi go, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Meeting…?” “Oh, Nozomi is kind of the...shrink here.” Honoka said with a hint of pride in her voice. “More like a friend who’s really good at listening. She’s been helping the others. She’s an empath so it’s good to talk to her.” Hibiki nodded as she stared after Nozomi. “So she’s your girlfriend?” Future Honoka nodded without hesitation, glancing back over her shoulder for a moment. “Yeah, she is. She’s pretty great. If you ever need to talk to someone, Nozomi is the one. She doesn’t judge, she just listens.” Rin smirked at Honoka’s response. “I’m gonna tell her you said that.” Honoka surprised Rin by shrugging in response. “Nozomi knows what I think of her. You can go ahead and tell her.” Rin huffed. Hibiki listened to the two of them, feeling a little awkward. She was surprised when Honoka looked back toward her. “So do you know Maki and Kotori?” Honoka asked, trying to include Hibiki in the conversation at hand. “You three would probably get along pretty well.” “Ah, I think Maki and I...got off on the wrong foot.” Hibiki said hesitantly, remembering her first encounter with Maki. “I was an ass to her. And she did read my mind so I’m not sure about her. I haven’t really met Kotori.” “If you can get past what she did, Maki is a pretty forgiving friend.” Honoka leaned back on her hands, peering up at Hibiki. “I tried to steal her girlfriend too many times to count.” “That’s pretty messed up.” Hibiki said in amusement. “In my defence, Kotori was my girlfriend first. Well…she would have been. It’s complicated.” Honoka said with a shake of her head. “The point is, if Maki can get past that she can get past most things. And you tried to save her fiance, she’s probably already forgiven you.” “That would be nice. I like moving forward.” Hibiki said quietly. “Maybe I’ll try talking to her sometime.” “That’s a good idea. If you’re gonna be sticking around for a while you’ll need friends.” Honoka slowly rose to her feet, deciding to give Rin and Hibiki some time alone. “If you ever need to talk, come and find me, HIbiki.” She lifted her hand in a wave before she walked back toward the house. “Gotcha fellow crow.” Honoka paused briefly, confused but she brushed it off with a laugh and with a wave goodbye, walked back into the house, leaving Hibiki with a rare genuine smile on her face. Hibiki turned to Rin. “Ready to move forward?” Rin stepped close to Hibiki and swept her up, off of her feet. “Of course.” She said, kissing Hibiki briefly before she ran back into the house with Hibiki in her arms. ---- Maki paused at the bottom of the stairs to the basement as Hanayo let out an angry yell and swept her arms over the desk, knocking some paper and gadgets they’d been working on to the floor. “Angry today, I see.” “She won’t say anything!” Hanayo growled angrily. “She may be weak but she still won’t fucking TALK!” Maki raised an eyebrow as she walked further into the room. “Rin”? Hanayo shook her head. “Erena.” Maki bent to pick up everything Hanayo had knocked from the desk. “You tried to interrogate her?” “Someone has to.” “You should leave that to me.” Maki pointed out quietly. She stood, placing everything back where it was meant to go. “You were busy with your mom and Kotori.” Hanayo frowned, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Sorry.” Maki apologized, leaning her hip against the desk. “She’s fiercely loyal to Tsubasa. She won’t budge and it’s pissing me off.” Hanayo muttered irritably. “I see that. Nico-chan is rubbing off on you.” Hanayo lifted her gaze to Maki. “We’re not talking about Nico-chan.” “Right.” Maki said slowly, eyeing Hanayo. It had been clear that there was something wrong with Hanayo as of late. “Maybe you should talk to Nozomi. About how angry you are. It could help.” “I’m not angry, I’m just frustrated.” Hanayo said, getting up from her seat. She paced across the room to the whiteboard where she, along with Maki, had been writing down anything that could help with the situation. From equations to operations. “This is useless. None of this is helping! We need to enhance RIn’s body armor but there’s no way to do it without...” “Weighing her down and making her slow.” Maki finished for Hanayo. “Maybe she should train with weights to get her strength up. We also need Honoka to train with her. She hasn’t sparred with Rin in months, that’s why she was slower than Tsubasa.” Hanayo gave a loud sigh and turned away from Maki to focus completely on the board. “We need to figure this out or we’re just going to keep screwing up. Rin-chan couldn’t do anything against Tsubasa out there. All she could do was take down guards. Any of us can do that.” “So you’re still angry with Rin then.” Maki said, raising an eyebrow. “That’s none of your business.” Hanayo said sharply, catching Maki by surprise. She looked back to her, her hands clenching. “Rin is being reckless. And so are you for that matter.” “Wait, what?!” Maki exclaimed in surprise. “What are you talking about?” “You’re both distracted by your damn relationships!” Hanayo exclaimed loudly. “It seems like Nico-chan and I are the only people who aren’t distracted by our relationship! Our work is never affected by it but you and Rin are completely different.” “What is that supposed to mean?” Maki asked, at a loss. “I’ve never been distracted by Kotori.” “Then why is she here?!” Hanayo demanded, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “This was meant to be a team of three!” Maki planted her hands on her hips. “I could ask you the same question. Why is Nico here?!” “Because she’s actually useful!” “Watch it, Hanayo.” Maki growled, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the edge of the table. “That’s my fiance you’re talking about. You know I can’t lie to her. Not after last time.” Hanayo didn’t bother to ask what last time was about. She didn’t feel the need to. “And yet you and Rin-chan both got pissed when Nico knew even a little bit about what we were doing. You’re such hypocrites. It’s like you think your relationships are more important than mine!” “Nobody said that, Hanayo.” Maki said, trying to calm down in an effort to keep Hanayo calm too. “I know you care about Nico.” “Care about her?” Hanayo asked skeptically. “Would you say you only ‘care’ about Kotori- chan?” “Well...no but it’s not like you’re in love with Nico or anything.” Maki said cautiously. She really didn’t understand Hanayo’s relationship with Nico, she had to admit. “Right?” “That’s not your business.” Hanayo said again. “Screw this, I’m going to try again with Erena.” Maki was silent for a moment but as Hanayo walked past, she spoke up. “Hanayo.” She turned quickly to see Hanayo hesitate near the stairs. “You really should speak to Nozomi. You need some help.” As Hanayo disappeared up the stairs, Maki tiredly slid into the seat at the desk. She really needed to smoke. She rested her head on the table but flinched when after a moment she felt hands slide over her back to her shoulders. “It’s just me.” Maki relaxed at the sound of Kotori’s voice and the feeling of warm breath against her ear. “Did you hear any of that?” Kotori gently rubbed Maki’s tense shoulders. “Would you be mad if I said I was standing on the stairs? I used my ability. I-I wasn’t spying or anything, I just didn’t want to interrupt.” “It’s fine.” Maki said quietly. She gave a soft sigh, feeling Kotori’s hand travel down her arm to take her hand. She opened her eyes as Kotori lifted her hand and watched her girlfriend gently kiss the ring on her finger. “Did you hear what she said...about you?” “Oh, that I’m useless?” Kotori shrugged sheepishly. “She has a point. I don’t really do anything around here. Everyone else does a lot more than I do.” “You’re not useless.” Maki turned, causing Kotori to take a small step back to give her space. “You’re our spy. And I need you, Kotori. I can’t focus without you. Hanayo has a point about that but it’s the only one she has. You’re not useless.” Kotori smiled softly as Maki wrapped her arms around her waist. “You called me your fiance earlier.” “Because you are.” Maki said, tilting her head back to look up at Kotori. “I’m not going to hide it.” “My mom’s gonna be pissed when she finds out.” “So let her be.” Maki let go of Kotori and stood, drawing her close to kiss her instead. “I can take whatever she has to throw at me.” Kotori giggled softly and kissed Maki back. TBC

#HonoEli #HonoUmi #KotoMaki #NozoHono #NozoEli #Fanfiction

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ratherhavetheblues · 4 years

Text

INGMAR BERGMAN’S ‘THE PASSION OF ANNA’ “Real security…Security…”

Why do the films of Ingmar Bergman concentrate upon difficulties so few people care about? Some might rush to claim that his genius was all over the most pressing dilemmas of modern life. But although the works do touch upon well-known malaise, what, I think, he was driven to show has never been a serious concern for very many.

Though I recently claimed that all three of the films in the “Island Trilogy,” comprising, Hour of the Wolf, Shame, and The Passion of Anna, could appear with no damage being caused in released or viewing at any order, there is about the third entry, namely, The Passion of Anna (1969), which does go significantly even further into the savagery of cultural venom than the other two. There, Bergman’s dramatic depth finds a hitherto hidden dimension of perversity to imbue us with an added weight going forward. And as we unravel this difficult construction, let’s face the facts about how many viewers are apt to find it compelling; and, therefore, what comportment is valid for these few and besieged seers who do find it riveting.

Andreas Winkelman (“winkel,” denoting a “corner” or “being enclosed by woods”) is a protagonist who, when we first encounter him in the opening scene, we could say that his name is very suitable. He lives in a farm setting, with neither crops nor salient livestock. (A few sheep is all we glimpse.) A voice-over gives his name, and his age, 48. Also, we hear, “He has lived alone for a while in this house on an island out at sea. His roof has been in bad repair for a long time.” (The metaphorical involvement here should not be ignored, particularly as a matter of invasion is about to spring forth.) We find him on that roof, with slate and mortar, clearly not being a gifted roofer. His face is contorted; and then another demand brightens his day. The winter sky delivers to his unsteady perch a sun comprising the fireball, but also a complementary flare involving a small cloud of rose and grey hue. We never again see him appreciating such a mystical moment. But we’ll have myriad opportunities to understand that Andreas, though a middling construction worker, is a devotee of the uncanny—unlike the easily distracted musician couple in Shame and the painter in Hour of the Wolf.

During the patchwork, there is a moment when Andreas uses a hammer to drive nails into the new material. This action is seen in extreme close-up, with the glint of the hammerhead catching the sun as the speeding thrust takes aim. Though he had set off, there, a topspin of some promise, the power-in-waiting did not catch fire. During the opening credits, faint chimes come to us; but they don’t do anything for him or us. On closing down for the time being, there are sheep bells, and he allows the pail of grout to slide down the precipice as he backs down his ladder. The contents spill over the building and on to the barnyard. He picks up the fallen pail, only to have it fall again. Right here, so early in the crisis that it seems a comedy—perhaps a tragicomedy in the spirit of playwright, Samuel Beckett—we are given to understand that Andreas is something of a bust as an acrobat. However, he’s far more adept in caring about an elderly neighbor, Johan (a sign of being a juggler of some skill, the second power of dynamics as revealed in the crucial Bergman film, The Seventh Seal [1957]), whom he catches up with moving a heavy pushcart. Andreas offers a bottle of cough syrup for his spate of bronchitis. (Once again, with Johan bending over, almost touching the ground with his head to resume, there is the grotesquerie of Beckett bemusement.)

On the other hand, as we proceed to the interior of Andreas’ modest home, one feature lifts our heart. Several stained-glass panels and windows grace the otherwise unremarkable house. The surfaces radiate modernist uncanniness, like diffident lighthouses. Where have they come from? And with this question we are thrust into the perplexing cadence of the proceedings of this film. There do appear, later on, references to a long-gone wife having left her pottery studio at a building nearby the main structure. But we’ll need to reconsider that idea. None of the several visitors in play there give the magic the time of day. But they are far from his sensibility. Dangerously far. And Andreas is not only the craftsman of those crafts, but his is a life of such solitude that, with the exception of farmers like Johan, he has for years instinctively (perhaps rather carelessly) kept a distance from mainstream, bourgeois cravings for advantage.

What, by another of those unspoken twists, could have breached his hideaway and his practices—an intruder aghast with such a difference? Not long after the wobbly climb to the top, a woman with a pronounced limp (which, twist-again, isn’t a serious injury at all) comes by to ask if she could use his phone—this being an era when phones had not yet become a test of being alright. While Andreas stands beside one of his non-representational reflections, she gets on the phone (a stage phone going nowhere, which suits here) and rattles through a hissy fit regarding monies, which we soon see she doesn’t need at all. In addition to being what he’ll later call her a “bad actor”—using her supposed (physical) cripplement to be a non-suspect—she’ll proceed to torture and kill many of the (disinterested) animals in the region, butchering a flock of sheep and locking and burning down a barn of horses and cattle. This is not, despite the various smokescreens, a whodunnit. This is a whydonnit. (And it raises—at a new level—the fascism disclosed in Hour of the Wolf.)

During the fake phone call, she mentions, “This is not an ordinary transaction.” As if to emphasize that point, she leaves behind her purse, the sole item within being a well-worn, type-face letter from her husband [whom she’d murdered], demanding a divorce. (Beyond the characteristic elusiveness here, we can clearly recall the note from temptress, Veronica, in Hour of the Wolf, seeming to be imparting a friendly bit of gossip when in fact a warning that unless the receiver mends his [unorthodox] ways death will occur. How’s that for announcing herself as a doctrinaire scourge, imagining to be a tower of power, when the opposite is in effect?) All this goes over the head of the talented but socially naïve islander. The widow lives with a wealthy couple on the mainland (he having been a college friend of the deceased), and in fact the latter using the near-castle for the fateful week-end break, and its “car accident,” close to where Andreas lives and where she had done some research on the subject of bohemians and remote areas to kill that troublesome husband, also called Andreas, and their young son, complicating her ardent priorities. (On another occasion, the remaining Andreas comes upon Anna sleeping in her car, not far from the home of the supposed iconoclast and in the mold of a safari apropos an exotic beast needing extinction. When he wakes her to be sure she’s as OK as she could be, she claims that she doesn’t sleep at night, and so needs such naps.) Her bivouac involves the dead husband’s college friend, Elis [as in Elite], cynical and nihilistic and a bankable architect, with a wife who can’t believe that bulging bookshelves, like those of the prey, could ever be more than décor.

Anna prevails upon her hosts to bring Andreas to dinner. (You’ll remember the more than rigorous “simple family supper,” in Hour of the Wolf.) And here, at last, this murderer’s row gets to show what they’ve got.

Along with the variable investigations of bourgeois presumptuousness, we have a very different self-exposure of Andreas’ being far more congenial in that arena than he should be. An ironist voice-over opens floodgates in terms of, “Without knowing why, he accepts and dresses up. The atmosphere is sincere, friendly and open-hearted. He feels a sudden affection for these people.” “You all look so nice,” he shouldn’t have said. “I’m not used to this. I’m not a hermit, as Elis says. I enjoy meeting new people… I only see the old neighbors…” (As often for Bergman, ironic features of the surround tend to comment silently upon how a protagonist is doing. Andreas, in close-up at the dinner table, is situated between a gold light at each side, and back a bit. Once again, the absence of a third synthesis aspect, portents something ominous.) He laughs easily at Eva’s generous remark, “It’s great having you here. Hope you don’t get tired of us.”

Elis, cutting off the saccharine, engenders some hard facts—recalling, in form, if not substance, the shift to assault at the dinner party of Hour of the Wolf. (Eva, perhaps far into the wine, had begun to talk about God.) “When I was girl, I thought God had a beard…” Anna, who was the inspiration of this night, and finding Andreas trite and passive, turns to her hostess for controversy where she already knows there will be no delinquency to speak of. (“Do you believe in God now?” Anna asks Eva, “Do I believe in God, Elis?”) Elis, a corporate panzer, delivers some carpet bombing for the sake of showing off to the stranger his version of fundamental ontology, or being. “When I go to Milan to create a cultural centre, I want you to come and visit. It’s a very interesting city. A huge city full of incredibly ugly, common, repulsive people… They will be given the opportunity of cultural activity…” In this early moment of the dinner, Anna had been completely offscreen; but the pronounced absence of sweetness and light puts her into a militant mood, and we await her bursting onto the scene. “How can you despise your work?” He, fluent with paradox, replies, “I don’t. I find it exceptionally important—I can satisfy your needs [both Eva’s and Anna’s] … especially the financial ones…” That doesn’t faze the semi-permanent lodger. “Why did you take this job?” Elis, drawing upon zeal while undermining it, argues, “I like designing houses. I’m a distinguished architect. I was flattered by the offer…” (Unlike the poverty-stricken, exhausted adversaries of world-history in the plays of Beckett, Elis siphons off the spiritual nourishment of his métier while sabotaging its functional development. Coherence, he well understands, being more trouble than he has the guts to sustain, he can play the easily liked and, as nearly everyone, respected mediocrity, while furtively sampling remarkable hors d’oeuvres on the run.) Anna perseveres, “What does a cultural centre involve?” The distinguished architect facetiously reports, “It’s a mausoleum over the utter meaninglessness which our kind of people live…” Only now does she appear onscreen, livid and pugnacious: “Why do you make fun of it? Why do you build it, without believing it? What’s the purpose?” (Could Anna’s passion include a sense of failure?)

After Eva’s ramblings and Elis’ provocation, there was the moment for Anna to show something better. Once again, Bergman’s theatrical dialogue, by which to penetrate the depths of this drama, is a most potent engagement for viewers ready to open floodgates. Elis’ last word here was to argue that unloved structures do, at least, stave off idleness. Anna, seeing a slam-dunk in the making, sneers, “Idle? I do what I believe in.” (This would not be the first clash with the host, who, for all her umbrage, clearly recognizes Elis as upholding a venerable, though essentially squalid, way of life. It is the tongue-tied real troublemaker at the table she sees needing a treatment, and provides her apologia therewith.) “I try to live in the truth…” She’s seated in such a way that two stylized chess figures at the back of her chair contribute to the general irony. (The figures seem to represent a bishop and a queen.) Elis, having reached this point often before, asks, “How do you know what is right?” And away we go, she declares, “You know inside what is true and what is right. We fail sometimes, but I want to strive for spiritual perfection.” Trusting profound emotion could have merit in this matter. But, without an extensive investigation the possibilities of errancy are huge. “Do you fail often?” the wag persists. This finds her flustered, not knowing how to strike a cogent tone. (Failing often, might not be something to be ashamed of, in the murky, problematic ventures of striking alliances with others and hanging on to one’s far from easy equilibrium.) Only one golden light shows behind here. Eventually going on, she declares, “I haven’t failed in what has been most important to me—living together with my husband, Andreas. Do you know why I didn’t fail? Because we lived in harmony by being truthful.” (The Andreas still alive, and listening to this massive deception, unaware, says nothing. But the embarrassment all round is in the air.) “We were honest. We believed in each other. If I had the same attitude toward my marriage [only one gold light to be seen] as you have toward your cultural centre, I wouldn’t have any beautiful memories. I wouldn’t believe in anything…” [the pull to Beckett]. Here, a cut to the magnified, mangled marriage, in the form of Anna’s husband’s letter telling her, in a zig-zag frenzy, “… because I know we’ll run into new problems which will result in a nervous breakdown and psychological and physical violence.” This disclosure comes with a tick-tock aural insistence, as if the passage of time and the reality of death reach into her fear, her cowardice, her phoniness and her murderousness toward earthy creatures whose disinterestedness put her to shame. There is a cut back to the four at the table, Andreas talking to Eva, and Anna watching him, another, less effective, but wild creature to attack. Eva invites him to stay the night, and he does. He’s wakened by Anna’s nightmare and her harsh yelling out, “Andreas!”

Next morning, Elis shows Andreas around the domaine. On arrival he had been struck by the large system of ancient stone walls, recalling a World War I battlefield. Now, he’s brought to a fine windmill which the cosmopolitan has revamped to a dazzling museum containing his voluminous photo collection from works around the globe, and his own accomplished productions. (The windmill action in Bergman’s, Smiles of a Summer Night [1955], would be a far less neurotic affair.) Andreas can only say, “It’s beautiful!” But his recommendation as a craftsman, despite technical carelessness, carries some weight, just as Elis—freed from swatting Anna—opens as much of his heart as he dares. “We have some privacy here.” However, instead of addressing the passion in his midst—so different from that of the serial killer he has been too obtuse to recognize—he turns to the noisy night and explains it as Anna’s (“accident”). That elicits from Andreas, “I understand,” which is more than a small error; but he has had a look at that letter and seems he’s trying to forget it. Thereby he dovetails, in an odd way, with Johan, the careless painter, in Hour of the Wolf.

When finally touching upon the concern for photography, Elis emphasizes that his output is “always about people” [a premium upon the powers of human presence]. The display and lecture, regarding a dynamic being somewhat imprisoned by the still camera— “Once I collected only pictures of violent acts…”—coincides with a classical sculpture, on several occasions and angles, eclipsing Andreas. Typically, the host wraps up the study with, “An irrational classification, just as meaningless as the collection itself.” Before leaving, the divided man asks the other divided man if he can take some pictures of him. “I would be flattered,” Andreas says. “I have all the time in the world.” Elis, going from bad to worse, initiates some hard-core drinking and tells the farmer that for a year Eva was the mistress of the dead Andreas. “He was a disaster for Anna…What was I going to say? Oh, yes, I want to tell you that Eva has extraordinary mental stamina…”

I want to tell you that the only one in sight here with extraordinary mental stamina is Johan. After wending his wobbly way home, Andreas, unaccustomed to expensive and beautiful wines and spirits (and feeling foolish when being forced to intensely understand what he approaches rather lazily), tries to prime the pump with Gordon’s Dry Gin. All he accomplishes is falling on the floor, trying to ride his bike with no success and staggering into the woods where he passes out at the base of a pine tree, after feeling sorry for himself that no agency arrives from the skies. This rather drastic lacuna is visible to the push-cart neighbor, who howls like a loyal hound. “Winkelman! Do you hear what I’m saying?” He shakes Andreas, gets pushed away—more Beckett—and tells him, “Get up! You can’t sit here. Do you want me to kick you?” Johan does manage to drag the younger man to his cart, where the latter flops back to be carried home. The neighbor makes coffee, Andreas falls on the floor, and his affectionate dog—which Anna tried to strangle with a noose—joins Johan as a breath of sanity. With Elis off to Milan, Eva comes by and extraordinary mental stamina is hard to find. “I’m bored to tears,” she says. “You can always tell me to leave.” Romance could not seriously cover this meeting, with Andreas trying more social climbing (having, in fact, made a meeting of minds with Elis, around the elusiveness of a soft approach to something very demanding). But a few stunning sights and her facility for epigram show that others, with a taste for risk, might catch fire.

On the pretense that Anna could not have joined the diversion at Andreas’ because she had to undergo more surgery (that never happened), her real diversion was to skulk around the laboring district, where she would feel unwelcome to the point of butchering a flock of sheep. The liaison between Andreas and Anna is put in place as an inevitable dribble of domesticity—he in a tepid move to taste “modern life” and Elis’ money; she in an experiment of tempering her pedantic spleen. A voice-over tells us, “Anna and Andreas have been living together for a few months. They are moderately happy, with no arguments or passions to speak of [Close-up of Andreas glaring.]” It is late winter. One day Anna [perhaps the boredom getting to her] starts talking about her marriage. “We lived in perfect harmony. We thought the same thoughts. We understood each other. Do you understand? I know it sounds silly and exaggerated when I tell it, but it’s very hard to describe [another trace of integrity while piling up tons of rubbish?]. How two people can grow so close [the same fantasy of Alma, in Hour of the Wolf]. It sounds so trite, and doesn’t really express what we had together. The boy was an amazing experience for us, and everything about him. I passed my finals and got a teaching job. And Andreas became an associate professor [of some area of science]. We bought a little house out of town and furnished it by degrees. We built something together. I don’t know what to call it. Real security… Security… Everybody thought it was a perfect marriage, but it wasn’t… We had violent fights, but we were never suspicious or cruel to one another. We were completely honest. There wasn’t a vestige of pretense in our relationship… Andreas was unfaithful once [Elis has told us something else]. He came straight to me and told me, and I felt how much he loved me and I forgave him…”

The desperate phoniness of this account, aligning with the most impoverished taste and craven fear, reaches an apex with the story of the “accident.” Anna shifts from the mawkish unbelievability sheltering her from adult struggle, to a smug, domineering menace. “The worst thing was when he left me. I found out where he was, then he changed his mind and came back to me [perhaps using the boy as a pawn]. And then we were closer than before. We stayed on the island one weekend with our little boy. Eva and Elis loaned us their house. On Sunday, Andreas took a nap after lunch. I wanted to take the car and see the church ruins. I got my way. Andreas asked me to drive [sure he did] as he’d had a couple of drinks [tests on the corpse, were it done, would probably show something else]. I didn’t drive fast at all” [more of the same]. (Her predatory eyes in close-up. Not a whit of sadness.) “We were all in high spirits [she was]. The road was slippery and the car began to skid.” (In Wild Strawberries, the brawl in the car did not result in any deaths.) “Andreas tried to take the wheel… but the car shot off the road [it was supposed to be a slow drive], down into the ditch and smashed through a stone wall and into the trees.” (No sadness in those hard, close-up eyes.) “When I woke up, I saw the wreck of the car… and a man in it [a man in it? You mean a military target] with his throat cut and half his body through the windshield. A boy [a boy?] lay farther away… He had been thrown out of the door, and his head was in a strange position [Would someone who loved the victim have made an issue out of that?]. I remember thinking, ‘What a horrible accident’ [as if she were a passer-by]. I wondered why nobody came to help those poor people [could be she chose a very remote place]. I made my way up the road and began to feel a pain in the side of my leg [having successfully killed her family while coming up roses]. I found myself dragging one foot behind me [as an effective fake leg injury]. Then I saw that I was covered in blood [lots of blood to smear over herself]. It was everywhere. My shin bone poked through my stocking [must buy a new pair of stockings]. They found us a few hours later [with her optics rocking]. I never thought life would be like this [requiring courage and very hard work]. I never thought life would be a daily suffering [no pain, no gain].”

Unlike the fanatics torturing Johan in Hour of the Wolf, there is no explicit religious animus within Anna’s campaign. Her mantra of, “Real Security,” appears to stem far more from a field of femininity, from an ideal of domesticity working on earth and its sentimental consensus. Anna would be positioned in the lunatic fringe, and therefore dovetails with the murderous imperial clique in the German castle and its wolves. But if we can get past her almost total foolishness, a far more formidable and interesting malignancy—somewhat like Elis’ ambiguity—comes to bear. The wry double entendres of her cold heart-to-heart, about the “accident,” are a self-satisfied, personal bitchiness, not a far-seeing program to rule the world.

The frustrating and melancholy denouement runs to absurdity in the style of Beckett. Our challenge comes down to understanding whether the filmic construction buys into the Nobel Prize celebrity’s wit, or whether Bergman—towering over most such prize winners, without the slightest attention—has other fish to fry. Are we to acknowledge the cowardice of Anna, along with the cousins of the Wolf, being paramount? Or will we be shown, in this last phase of the presentation, how a twisted non-entity—in heat about house and home securement—fails miserably to shut down the vectors of love and power?

After the bloodbath of the sheep, Johan, convicted, unfairly, long ago, of abusing his then livestock (wolves always active), becomes the most likely suspect in a small but volatile population. The first moments of the killing of Johan are conveyed by aural narrative from a policeman who rattles off details about the suspect. “He’s been in a mental institution, and that alone is suspicious. He’s totally isolated, never speaks and he has no pets.” (A cut from Elis, the camouflaged student of human nature, provides a homage-cum-mug-shot: “He was quite sociable back then, but got involved in a lawsuit, which he lost. Since then he lives like a hermit.” [The photographer also regarded Andreas as a [likeable] hermit.]) With the now suspect seen struggling with his cart, there are Andreas and Anna giving him a push in mucky terrain. We have, moreover, the supposed invalid showing as much strength as the others. Arriving to Johan’s cabin, he, feeling grateful for the assistance, opens up about his fears which a real friend would attend to. (Neither of the guests is capable of being a real friend.) “They’ll kill me… Because of cruelty to animals. This came through my window. ‘You damn animal killer. We’ll do to you what you did to the animals.’ [A close-up of Anna shows her with minimal discomfort. What would a nesting, effete pedant care for someone like Johan?] Me, cruel to animals?” [Johan adds a strong drink to his coffee. Andreas is nonplussed. He knows he’s got a nutcase in his house; and he can’t make a move.] He says, “Surely something can be done…” Johan, a superior thinker and superior human being, asks, “What?” (A cut to the farmer’s television allows us to ironically extend the sense of casual mayhem. A news program sends our way the execution of a soldier during a war. “What was that?” she asks, as if beyond her ken. Rushing from the kill she is in the midst of effecting, she pretends there is trouble outside. “It might be hurt… I’ll get the flashlight” [to leave an uncomfortable visit].)

Reaching home, there is a wounded bird, which Andreas smashes with a small stone. She had insisted, “You’d better put it out of its misery” [an echo of painter-Johan’s cold-blooded kill, in Hour of the Wolf]. She demonstratively wonders, “Could it have survived?”/ “No. It was too badly injured,” Andreas argues. As usual he has spared dealing with unpleasantness. The complementary, “What?” is both savage and uplifting.

Before the police pay a visit to the house of the forgotten glassworks, to hand over, to its shabby artist-in-residence, Johan’s suicide note to him, there was gabby Anna, as if she cared anything about animals, and her two-cents-worth, “I wonder why the bird was flying alone at night?” (Better to be alone than count on the populace?) Later that night, she has a dream indicating how she might become a heroine of a less bloody statement. Mysteriously, and as such, out of character, there is Anna in a recue boat, like the one Eve, in the Bergman film, Shame (1968), used to escape disaster. Coming to a port—a version of real security—she attempts to ingratiate the locals and finds them all intent on shunning her. A voice-over remarks, “The warning signs are beneath, and they manifest themselves unexpectedly.” She encounters a woman whose son is to be executed. Anna cries out. “Forgive me!” The mother is having nothing of that. Anna screams for attention to her discomfort (screams without sounds). A massive fire with black cloud rips the sky. Back to her default comfort of emotional cleansing, with the recent “relationship” going south, she has a reverie (sparked by the novel she’s translating, rejigging words coming naturally to her) of her adolescence. Her mother, surveying Anna going out to party, with those hard, dead eyes and a sneer, tells her, “You have cancer of the soul… You need an operation and radiation [particularly, in the form of a lift beyond her selfishness] … You have tumors everywhere. You’ll die a terrible death…” A little visit, amidst Johan’s passion, whereby the incurable jumps out at us by the billions. A coda, after that memory, finds Andreas fussing that he might have cancer. What, in fact, he has, is even worse.

An officer prefaces the contents of Johan’s last words with, “We found him today hanged. He had ugly bruises on his head and seemed to have been beaten up.” “Dear Andreas. A few hours ago, some people came by, and they told me I was a criminal and had to be punished. They dragged me by the hair into the yard. Then they beat me with their fists and spat on me. A younger one took a stone and hit me in the head. I was confused and told them I was innocent. They said that if I confessed, they would leave me alone. I said I would confess.[Andreas distraught.] Then they stopped hitting me in the face. They pushed me up against the wall and told me to talk. I said everything they wanted to hear. When I couldn’t think of anymore, they hit me again. One of them stood over me and pissed on my face. I couldn’t cover myself because I was too tired. They kicked me as I was lying there. They stepped on my glasses and I lost my false teeth and I couldn’t find them. I can’t recall what happened next, as I fainted. When I woke up, they’d left in their cars and I walked back inside. I didn’t want to live anymore because I could no longer look anyone in the eye. That’s why I can’t go on living. Dear Andreas, I’m writing this letter because you’ve always been good to me and always wondered how I was doing.”

The latter moments of this scene show Anna onscreen, performing, as usual, a sterile moment. As we now dispense of her and Andreas, with appropriate haste, the problematic of their destruction is eclipsed by the same kind of singularity as Jof, the would-be acrobat, in The Seventh Seal, who also had been repeatedly hit on the head by mob methods, and was far more fortunate in his enemies and also in having a rescuer, an almost resolved, irreverent squire. Having been out of sight from the lawmen, there is now Andreas calling out to her. As with Jan, the late-blooming psychopath in the film, Shame, she has to be found by carefully searching the premises. She’s seated in the studio and claims to be praying for Johan. Though he has the insight and nerve to nail her here— “You’re praying for yourself… Damn lousy acting! Damn acting!”—he lacks what it takes to combat a creature like Anna. (His passive implication in her murderousness being an added paralysis.)

We hear, by voice-over, that a year passes after Andreas’ gently touches Johan’s hand while he lies dead on his bed. By increment, Andreas becomes more hypochondriac and needing to be “free.” (Her barb, “It’s terrible being a failure,” is another escalation which finally results in a physical brawl in the barnyard where he beats her repeatedly. She burns the animals behind the locked door and he allows to be driven from the scene in her car. He rants about “humiliated at heart, I’ve given up.” (Their drive covers a Beckett wasteland.) She drives madly, but Andreas squelches her murder attempt. He gets out of the car, she drives away, and he proceeds to pace back and forth like a creature in a theatre of the absurd. During the jousting on the ride he tells her, “I want my solitude back.” The presumptuousness of both of them is breathtaking. (She shows up at that fire, and he questions why; and she says, “I came to ask your forgiveness…”)

Each of the four major roles—the hard-core bourgeoisie and the one soft-core bohemian—are asked about their persona, in brief, out-of-character “interpretations.” All miss the point, thinking themselves hermetic agents. Liv Ullmann, in a bright orange sun hat, ready for LA, says, “I sympathize a lot with Anna’s need for truth. I understand why she wants the world to be a certain way. But her need, this desire for truth, is dangerous. When she doesn’t get the response she demands, she takes refuge in lies and dissimilation. That’s why it’s so hard to be honest… You expect others to be the same. We see that today in thousands of people.”

Bergman, with his ironic “island” campaign coming to an end, leaves us more aware of war and warriors being our destiny. Johan, the brave soldier, shines pretty brightly in this dark trap. The tale is extreme; but the story is very common.

#ingmar bergman

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doyoulikehomestuck · 7 years

Text

Arrow To The Knee

Words: 2,359

Summary: Rin really should think before she speaks. One-shot RinPana and NicoMaki

Collaboration with @flipomatic.

Read it on ff.net, ao3, or under the cut.

In Rin’s opinion, the fashion show went extremely well. The crowd loved their performance, and they even received an additional round of applause afterwards backstage. Rin can’t contain how excited she is to be able to lead the group and to do it while wearing a dress. She heads to the changing room with a large grin plastered to her face.

Most of Rin’s friends are already inside, and Rin can see her own happiness mirrored on their faces. Nico slides in behind her a few moments later, shutting the door so everyone can change.

Rin bites the inside of her lip at the thought of parting with her newest outfit. It’s not every day that she can wear something like this.

Though… Rin’s thoughts shift to the rows of unworn skirts and dresses in her closet at home. Those aren’t as fancy, but they’ll still be good. She can try on all the cute clothes she wants when she gets home, but first she needs to get out of this dress.

A meek, yet comforting voice rings out as if hearing her thoughts, “Rin-chan, let me help.”

A soft hand rests on her shoulder, with another tugging down the zipper clinging to her back. Rin twists her neck so she can grin over her left shoulder. “Thank you Kayo-chin!”

Hanayo smiles softly in response, her eyes focused on her task. Rin’s neck starts to strain from the positioning, so she turns her head to face forward again, allowing herself to linger in the moment. It’s always nice when Hanayo’s this close.

“This suits you Rin.” Hanayo breaks the silence. She pauses for a moment before drawing in a shaky breath, “I-I think you’ll make a cute bride.” Rin’s heart speeds up at the compliment. The idea of her being cute is a new one, so Rin doesn’t expect the praise. Still, the thought of her being a bride… Rin can’t quite imagine it. Hanayo finishes unzipping the dress and steps away wordlessly.

Rin spins on her heels, eager to finally be face to face with her best friend. “Kayo-chin!!” Hanayo has only taken one small step backwards, so Rin closes the space between them with a single stride. She reaches out and quickly grasps Hanayo’s right hand, drawing it up between their bodies. “Thank you! But Rin’s not getting married.” Rin rubs her thumbs along Hanayo’s knuckles thoughtlessly as she continues, “Besides, Kayo-chin would be the cutest bride of all!”

“Oh…” Hanayo glances down at their joined hands; Rin can’t quite make out her expression.

A voice cuts across the room and distracts Rin, breaking her focus on Hanayo. She looks over to find Maki staring at her with slightly narrowed eyes. Hanayo slides her hand free from Rin’s grasp, but it hardly registers since the cat lover’s attention has completely shifted. “Oy Rin, your flowers…” Maki gestures broadly with her hands towards Rin’s right side.

Rin glances down, and sure enough, she’s still hanging onto the flower microphone she was given for the performance. “Woah!!” Rin practically drops the mic from shock. “I forgot I had these!” Rin spins abruptly on her heels, shifting her back to her previous position. “Kayo-chin, can you please zip me back up?”

Hanayo doesn’t respond, but after a moment Rin can feel gentle hands sliding the zipper back into place. The room remains strangely silent as she completes her task. Rin only know she’s done because the grasp on her back is suddenly released. She takes the opportunity to dash out of the room, making sure to shout a quick thank you over her shoulder as she goes.

After numerous bows and apologies to the event staff, Rin finally returns to the changing room. Most of her friends are still lingering inside, but the most important one is missing. Rin peeks inside one of the changing stalls curiously, “Where’s Kayo-chin?”

Rin turns to look at Eli, but the older student refuses to make eye contact. She shifts to Maki, who shakes her head and lets out a long sigh, “She went on ahead.”

“Oh, okay! That’s fine!” Rin chirps, deciding to not let it bother her. Hanayo probably has homework or plans. They can always catch up later.

Maki interrupts her thoughts by crossing the room, a slight frown tugging at her lips. Her eyes shift to the ground when she speaks, “Let me unzip that for you.”

Rin complies, and after a few minutes she finishes changing back into her normal clothes. Nozomi and Eli have already left, but Maki is still standing nearby.

“Ahem,” Maki clears her throat. “Wanna get drinks? At the café.”

“Sure!” Rin agrees in a heartbeat; she’s definitely been craving those café cookies lately. The two of them head towards the exit, but Rin finds her path blocked by the group’s smallest member.

Maki rolls her eyes and groans in annoyance. “What do you want?”

The question has the third year grinning from ear to ear, “Did Nico just hear that there will be drinks at a café?” Nico leans forward off of her heels in an attempt to be eye to eye with Maki.

“Not for you.” Maki attempts to push past the smaller member, but Nico shifts into her path.

“Come onnnn, you need a little more Nico-nii in your life.” Nico winks and raises her free hand to form her usual pose. “It’ll be fun!”

Rin doesn’t really mind either way, so she waits while Maki stews over the idea. The redhead lets out a defeated sigh. “Fine…”

Rin’s favorite part of the café is their vast selection of cookies. They have sugar, chocolate chip, macadamia nut, and a whole bunch of others that Rin hasn’t even tried yet. Maki seems to be in a weird mood, so Rin goes for the more serious sugar cookie. She can go back for more fun ones later. She also gets a regular coffee with 1 cream and 4 sugars. Coffee can never have too much sugar.

She joins Maki and Rin at a round table, eyeing Maki’s chocolate chip cookie and questioning her own choice.

Maki doesn’t notice, taking a few moments to stare into her drink. She clears her throat, “So Rin, you’re probably wondering why I called you here?” She speaks stiffly, as if unsure of her words.

It seems obvious to Rin. “For drinks!” She hoists her drink in a pseudo toast.

Maki grimaces slightly, “Well yes… but there’s more to it than that.”

Rin doesn’t let her first failure stem her excitement. “Cookies?”

“No Rin.”

From her corner of the table, Nico chimes in, “Wow you’re bad at this.” She gestures towards Maki with her half eaten cookie.

“Shut-up.” Maki snipes back before returning her attention to Rin. “Anyway, what happened today?” She asks a strange question, one that should be obvious.

Then again, Rin’s been wrong twice already. Maybe she should think more carefully about her responses. “Uhhhh… We had a concert?” Rin doesn’t think this is a very fun quiz.

“And?” Maki taps the table impatiently, causing Nico to snicker behind her coffee.

Rin’s not quite sure what they want her to say “Anddd…? I wore a dress? And… now we’re having drinks? And cookies?” That’s gotta be enough right?

Maki sighs deeply, “What about between the performance and the drinks?”

Did anything happen between the performance and the drinks? A few seconds pass and it comes to her. “Oh! I forgot to return my flowers!”

Nico pipes in, “Warmer.”

Maki ignores Nico’s comment, “Do you remember speaking with Hanayo?” She pushes for some detail, but Rin’s still not sure what she’s implying.

“Kayo-chin? Yeah, I speak to her all the time.” She did leave without Rin today… that was kind of weird.

Maki doesn’t give her time to think, immediately pressing further, “You spoke with her after the concert right?”

“Yup!” Rin nods.

“And what did you talk about?” Maki’s expression is pained at this point, Nico on the other hand is giggling silently.

Rin is also tired of this conversation, “Uhhhh, I don’t remember? Something about dresses I think? Why? Are you guys interested in weddings?”

The giggling abruptly stops as Nico spits out her drink. Next to her, Maki turns a shade similar to her hair color and splutters, “T-That’s not what we’re here to discuss.” She coughs heavily and uses the moment to take a sip of her coffee.

Nico raps her knuckles against the table gently to draw their attention, “Lemme try.”

Maki scoffs, “Be my guest.” Maki sits back in her seat and crosses her arms.

Nico leans forward and makes eye contact with Rin. “When you spoke with Hanayo, she complimented you on your dress right?”

Oh yeah, that did happen. “She did! Kayo-chin is so nice like that.”

“Right, and when you responded you…” Nico motions with one hand for Rin to finish the sentence.

This one is easy, “Complimented her back of course!”

“And?” Nico leans forward even further.

And? There isn’t anything else. “And nothing?”

Nico groans, “Not ‘and nothing’. Urghh. I’m tapping back out. Go Maki.” Nico reaches out to tap Maki on the shoulder but the taller teen leans out of her reach.

“I can’t…” Maki protests and raises her cookie as a form of defense.

Nico points with her index finger and retorts, “You’re the one who called this meeting.”

“Yeah but…” Maki frowns at the table. “Maybe we should call Eli.”

Nico practically jumps out of her seat at the suggestion, her voice pitching upward. “What? No! We can’t do that!” Nico sighs, “I’ll never hear the end of it from Nozomi.”

Maki crosses her arms with a huff. “Well… unless you can fix this they’re our only option.”

“I’ll try one more time.” Nico hones her gaze in on Rin. “Look Rin, when Hanayo left she was crying. What did you say to make her cry?”

Rin had mostly tuned out the bickering, but the sudden mentioning of Hanayo recaptures her attention. “Did you just say Kayo-chin was crying?” Rin leaps out of her seat. How could she not have noticed this earlier? “I have to go!”

Cookies be damned. Hanayo is more important. Rin takes off with one wave over her shoulder.

“Wait!” Maki calls after her, but Rin doesn’t stop. She knows exactly where she needs to go.

As Rin’s footsteps fade away, Nico quips, “Well that went well.”

“This is your fault.”

Rin arrives at Hanayo’s house in record time. She rings the doorbell hastily and hopes that Hanayo is actually home.

After about thirty seconds, Hanayo’s mom opens the door. “Rin-chan!” She sounds surprised but that fades away into relief. “I’m glad you’re here. Hanayo is upstairs.”

“Thank you!” Rin slides her shoes off in the entrance and dashes up the familiar steps. She skids to a halt in front of Hanayo’s door.

Without hesitation, Rin knocks on the door. “Kayo-chin!! I heard you were crying. Are you okay?”

It only takes a couple seconds this time before the door pops open. Hanayo has one finger raised to her lips and whispers, “Shhh, my mom will worry.”

“Oh sorry! Sorry again that was too loud hahah.” Rin steps into the room and bows apologetically. Rin closes the door behind her. “Anyway Kayo-chin, are you okay?”

Hanayo looks away from Rin, holding her hands together in front of her body. Rin wishes she could make eye contact, but Hanayo keeps shifting away when she tries, “I’m ok, thank you.” Hanayo pauses and takes a deep breath. “You should g-go home.”

“But I just got here.” Hanayo isn’t making any sense. She said she’s okay, but clearly something is wrong.

“Please.” Hanayo’s plea comes out just above a whisper.

Rin frowns and steps towards Hanayo. “I can’t leave you like this.”

“It’s fine though…” If anything, Hanayo is getting quieter.

Rin places her hands on top of Hanayo’s, drawing herself towards her childhood friend. “Really Kayo-chin, I love you so much!” Rin squeezes Hanayo’s hands to emphasize her point. “I would do anything to keep you from feeling sad.”

Hanayo still won’t look at her. From this distance, Rin can see that her eyes are red from crying. Her eyes flicker to their joined hands as she mutters under her breath, “But you won’t marry me.”

For one second, no one speaks. As another second ticks by, Hanayo yanks her hands free free and crosses the room towards her bed. She stands with her back turned to Rin.

“What was that?” Rin speaks her thoughts out loud, and immediately feels the urge to rush to Hanayo’s side. She might not want that though. Hanayo sniffles and Rin’s small amount of willpower crumbles.

She only makes it a few steps before Hanayo speaks, “Nothing! It was nothing.”

“It didn’t sound like nothing,” Rin isn’t sure how to feel, but she wonders what’s running through Hanayo’s mind. She takes the last few steps across the room and places one hand gingerly onto her shoulder. “Did you say you wanted to marry me?”

Hanayo tenses under her palm. “I…I just... Earlier today you said you didn’t want to get married, and that’s fine!” Rin finds her hand slipping from Hanayo’s shoulder as she turns to meet her face to face. Her eyes are redder than before. “But if I got married and you didn’t, we’d have to be apart.” One tear trails from her left eye.

Rin returns her hand to Hanayo’s shoulder, shaking her head vigorously. Thinking back to earlier that day, Rin finally understands what Maki was trying to get at. “That’s ridiculous, we’ll never be apart!” Rin shakes her head again for emphasis, and gently places her other hand on Hanayo's cheek to draw her gaze. “I don’t need to get married, because I have you!”

Hanayo leans into Rin’s hand. “Rin-chan,” she sniffles.

Rin continues on with her previous thought, “So don’t ever worry, okay? Cuz we’ll always be together.” She nods in confirmation. “Nya, but can we wait a few years until we get married?”

Hanayo laughs as if a weight has been lifted off her shoulders. “Yes”

I hope you enjoyed this!

#rinpana #nicomaki #love live fanfiction #Hanayo #Rin #baxter writes fanfiction #flipomatic

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milesperhorror · 7 years

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rough af seeder family details

(so i don’t forget this shit/edits on going lmao) florence seeder: the mother of our seeds. blessed with a tilted, wild beauty-- all big shoulders and wide swinging hips and her hippy hair that always stretched down to her ass. her father used to strike her with the back of his hand and threaten to cut it all off while her mother watched from her perch in the kitchen. a family with roots in the california fields and hands that were endlessly caked in dirt, florence used to stretch out in the socal sun with her stoner friends and say, “i’m the fucking grapes of wrath incarnate” topher, the first guy she’d ever kiss tenderly and who died while wandering drunk on a train trestle, laughed and blew smoke into her golden hair, “flo, none of us are shit-- none of us are ever gonna be shit, either.” florence had laughed like a maniac at that but the knowledge was already seeded inside her: topher was wrong-- she was going to be something, she was going to be something great. last name “cedar”, like the wood chips, but as a drunken twenty-something it didn’t sit well behind her first name and she scraped her tips until she could change it. ”i’m gonna plant something in this world”, she told the receptionist at the courthouse who rolled his eyes because when he was growing up, everyone was saying stupid shit like that and writing away the god fearing parts of themselves to be named after flowers and rivers. but florence knew better-- that was her one and only flaw: despite the drugs and impulsive, breathless way she ran her fingers through the swarms of male acquaintances, our girl always knew best. she knew when she said she loved someone-- her men, her kids-- she knew it was true. fillip seeder: first born, the only one whose birth certificate read “cedar” (if only for a few years of his life), and some would say a bad seed, though not bad enough that he didn’t manage to dig his roots deep in the other seeder kids’ hearts. he wasn’t taken from birth by devilishness or cruelty-- the kid just wanted to be liked and respected more than he’d ever figured out how to articulate. son of jimmy mccullen, sunless looking priest who was twice florence’s age when he called her over to his sedan and said “i’m so cold, girlie”. fillip was born out of that dark place and always seemed to shy away from the lights of greatness, no matter how often he talked about “being someone”. was he smart-- yes. talented-- kid could draw with charcoal like a university student the day he turned ten. hard-working-- only when he felt like he’d get noticed, which was never when ferris was alive. used to hunker down in his room to “study” but just ended up sketching out everything he was feeling instead. Told Florence, Ferris’s father, and his many foster parents-- “art doesn’t mean shit”, like if he said it enough he could trade in his clever hands for an ability he had deemed more useful. so determined was he to avoid being quiet and sensitive and mild: all the things florence had cooed to ferris, spinning prophecies about where such qualities would take her blond favorite. fillip refused to be the replacement, as far as he was concerned, his mom had already made her decision: laid the best of her love into the earth next to the son she adored most of all. he found a compromise in middle school: used his quick learning fingers and stunted size for fighting. he was fast and cruel-- an endless pale blur of energy and intuitive blows. his friends were budding dropouts, but they loved him-- and he loved the way they looked at him when he was speckled with bruises and blood. loved his mom like a son should but he never quite forgave her for ferris or what came after all that. when florence was laid in the ground though, the man knew he had to make it up for her-- despite his darkness, he didn’t want his sisters to be split down the middle like he and ferris had been. took them on at twenty three-- a benefactor with pale, greasy hair and arms that were always full of books. “read these,” he said, “we seeder’s gotta make something of ourselves before we die ” but that was our boy’s destiny after all-- a dark burnout who went in a silent flare of darker fire. ferris seeder: the second born, willowy little seeder. they say you have to pull up weeds by the root and life was intent on snatching up little ferris the second he pulled in his first shaky gulp of air. sickly, paler than fillip (which shouldn’t have been possible), and the only seeder child whose dad was in the room. chance graceson. sandy haired motherfucker who was like florence: really thought he loved people until he hung around them too long. split in the night three months after ferris came to be. florence didn’t mind-- the guy drank all her seltzer water and missed the toilet when he pissed. ferris, though, she adored. they say mothers don’t have favorites but everyone who wasn’t an orphan or an only child knows that’s bullshit. mothers love one kid with tens times the intensity they love all the others-- and god, florence though she’d been baptised in fire the moment she saw ferris. frail little boy. he needed her in a way fillip never would, and she bet everything on his tiny life-- lost her house to medical bills and went on the run with ferris, leaving fillip in foster care for two years. ferris was timid and sweet only for florence and he only lasted those three, dreamy years before his lungs and heart finally decided they’d had enough of fighting to function the same way all the other body parts did with effortlessness. no funeral. florence was broke and broken-- she buried him on the california coast, up by big sur, under a cypress tree she mistook for a cedar. then she stole back her firstborn who didn’t even ask where his brother was. fable seeder: our heroine, the tree whose roots folded up out of the ground like Tolkien’s ents-- a walking tree from a forest closing in on the scottish moor. fable’s father was the best of the bunch and our lucky girl became a container for the love both he and florence left with her. malcolm johnson-- with skin like rich, late-night laughter and eyes so brown they were almost black. he pulled florence up out of her misery and debt. man wasn’t successful at anything people admired, but what he lacked in traditional actualization, he made up for in raw, impossible luck. guy was banned from las vegas, though none of the casinos could ever file a suit against him for anything they could prove. in fact, the only time the world demanded even a hint of misfortune from him was when fable was born-- in a hurricane that kept the public transport stagnant and cut the power in the hospital where florence was. nurses elsewhere, fable was born by candle-light, the midwife an old woman in a wheelchair who’d answered to florence’s moans of pain. such humble means to florence were fantastical-- so “fable” it was. malcolm used to sit our girl on his knee and tell her, “you got something to give to the world, fable.” and then bounce her high and catch her in his large hands while she shrieked with laughter. she was freckled like with such nebulous impressiveness, fillip used to say she was her own tiny universe. florence always called her aesop, though. between starry skies and talking animals, little fable was showered from all sides with luck and laughter and love. perhaps she remembers it better than it was-- the way the cops were always on florence’s ass about fillip and the way malcolm would come home with wounds he never intended to see a doctor for-- maybe our girl blocked all that out. she remembers the polaroid, though, malcolm’s gift to her at age four. he told her, “show me how you see things” and so she spent the day taking pictures of the edges of tables and underside of the mastiff florence had found in a box on the side of the road. all these neat, developing squares fable took and arranged out on the kitchen floor. then she called malcolm and florence in. florence smiled and hugged her daughter, her swell of pride still hazy from grief that never seemed to sleep, but malcolm swept up fable and exclaimed, “so talented, so talented! you’re gonna be ansel adams two, baby fable!” fillip lingered in the doorway, old enough to understand he was passed the age where he could be jealous of his siblings. he said, “nice, star-girl” but did not mention anything about art being shit, and tried to keep his smile as steady as his mom’s. when elis was born, even fable knew she wasn’t malcolm’s, but the man never once mentioned it. held elis just as tightly as fable and cheered her on with the same dedication. fable was damn near obsessed with her little sister-- always showing her how to do things, giving her a million silly nicknames, and always taking polaroids of the little blonde’s furious screaming or delighted cries. but then came malcolm’s second brush with unluckiness-- there was the war overseas and malcolm’s own fervent patriotism (”florence, this country is the best one in the world-- even with it’s bad spots!”). foot got injured, then infected, and then fable lost her father like the two seeder’s before her. florence went wild. stared dressing in her high school clothes and drinking every waking moment. anything to keep the threat of reality at bay. if her love had died with ferris, her spirit was forever wrapped in an american flag-- side by side with the man she could have seen her future in. fable was scared. fable was sad. fable had to keep reminding herself of how a camera flash lit up the room, how it could preserve smiling faces forever. florence and malcolm’s and fillip’s and elis’ beaming faces, immortalized in the invincibility of black and white. it would take her years to look beyond these childhood memories-- years to crave the questions the photographs dangled in front of her. who were these smiling faces? where had they come from? and where had they gone-- really, truly: where were they now? her mother got her curious, her brother plunged her into the tepid waters of conspiracy, but when elis vanished into the great american wilds-- then and only then did she pack a bag and set out. felicity “elis” seeder: you wanna talk supposed “bad seeds” in the seeder family history and you can’t dodge elis. if the family bore the kind of curse some would become convinced it did, most of it had been heaped onto elis’ pale shoulders. exhibit a: she was the spitting image of her mother-- eyes, hair, the sturdy jaw and the wide hips. it was a resemblance she resented the hell out of-- strangers in public letting her know she looked just like her wasted, wailing mother. whoop-tee-fucking-doo. if florence loved ferris best and fable loved elis best, then elis adored fillip most of all. her dad was a mystery, even to florence, and though fable would turn up theories of ms. charlotte chen or mr. skip, elis decided pretty quickly that she didn’t need one. fillip would take care of her. and fable would pick up the slack when he was at work. after all, fillip was the one who had showed up first-- before the police or the prodding neighbors-- when florence died. oh poor elis, cursed ghost girl in a family of wandering ghosts-- she’d been the one who’d seen it happen. a dark figure in the hallway-- she called him “the person with ears”. the therapists thought she was psychotic and fillip and fable had been patient with elis’ “a monster killed mom” story, but then fillip found a job that could support the three of them. And then he stopped telling elis that “monsters don’t exist”. “i love her too, fillip, but do you actually beli--?” he’d hold up a hand and shake his head, “do your homework, star-girl. you have a lot of work to do probably.” elis was always eavesdropping through the thin walls of the apartment. fillip believed her, she could feel it in the core of herself-- and she loved him best of all for it. but seeing your mom die doesn’t make you a bad seed, after all-- elis’ restlessness, her wildness, her desire to find out how things broke and struggled and burned. that was the badness. the way she’d tell fable “to go fuck herself as soon as she could speak”, the way she’d smash her presents just see the look on florence’s face. “i’m cursed,” she used to cry into fable’s shoulder, “i just want to hurt people. i just want everything to die.” it was a mantra that, after fillip died, just became “we’re cursed. we’re cain, fable, we’re the fucking children of cain. i don’t know how mom fucked up or her dad or whatever but we’re all--” fable just let her cry. held her close and whispered “shh shh” until elis had screamed and rambled herself to sleep. she still wanted everything to burn, but held in her a new fear: that he appetite for destruction was predestined into some cruel deity’s master plan and not a wild extension of her own, home-grown depravity. after fillip was reported dead, the girls only got a few more months together-- foster care just couldn’t keep them in the same homes-- but fable could already feel elis slipping through her fingers. and at 17, the girl disappeared from the world altogether. of course, elis was fable’s wake up call-- the charge to take up her camera and whatever else she could carry from her past (malcolm’s polaroid camera, florence’s favorite flannel shirt, fillip’s copy of the plato’s republic, and elis’ shaky handed journal) and find her sister. and the rest of her family.

#fable seeder

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lonelypond · 6 years

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Santa Cutie And The Christmas Cookie Queen

Love Live, nicomaki, 3.2K, 2/3

Nico vs. Pizza

Chief of Elfish Resources Nozomi Tojo stepped through the door and saw three papers scattered across the pristine white surface of Eli’s desk, she knew some disaster had occurred. Eli was sitting behind the desk, hands wide for balance, blue eyes with a dizzy look at the back of them, like someone had slipped and caused her to fall into a wall.

“How could she?” Eli asked, anger starting to clarify in her voice, “How could she?”

Nozomi was one fact away from knowing how to reply, although she had a guess as to the party involved.

“How could…” Nozomi stepped into the room, her question leaving a blank for Eli to fill.

“Maki.” Eli shoved her chair back, standing. Another page drifted off the pile as the desk reacted to the after tremors. “Maki. Doesn’t she realize…”

Eli turned away, overwhelmed by too many emotions. Nozomi scooted closer to the desk, reading upside down. Insurance information for someone named Honoka Kosaka. Accident?

“Is Maki all right? Does her father know?” Nozomi’s concern was more than professional. Everyone at North Pole Nishikino had come to love the often grumpy but always kindly sole heir to the Santa suit and sleigh.

“Maki is fine. And not taking this seriously. How do I tell her father?” Eli glanced at Nozomi.

“Do you want me to?” Nozomi sat on the corner of Eli’s desk, primly arranging the skirt of her purple dress over her knees, .

“It’s not your job.” Eli groaned. “It’s not really my job either.”

Nozomi neatened the papers, “My job is to take care of the employees. You are an employee. If it would be taking care of you, in the only way you’ll let me…”

Eli pretended to ignore what Nozomi was leaving very openly unsaid, “I’ll do it myself.” Eli’s smile barely qualified but Nozomi, as usual, took what she could get, “Thanks, Nozomi.”

Nozomi bounced up, “Just take care of yourself, Eli-chi. Medical forms cause too much paperwork.”

“Hey,” Eli sounded indignant and Nozomi was glad Eli couldn’t see the giggle she was holding back, “Last year was a fluke.”

“Just make sure you get some rest,” Nozomi twirled in the doorway, “And put up some mistletoe. I made sure it was regulation.”

Eli shook her head at the flirtatious dark haired woman and sat down, staring out the window at the sunlit afternoon, wondering what other kinds of trouble Maki was getting herself into. ANd wondering if the young heir had read the detailed email Eli had spent last week on, about polishing her ability to serve as the public face of the company.

Maki woke to her phone going off. She hated setting the alarm so on weekends she never bothered. But Rin’s chirpy text tone was enough to drag her out of a dream that involved Nico in candy cane stripes from head to toe and a Christmas tree and...Maki grabbed her phone.

R: Eli’s so MAD at you, Maki (╯=▃=)╯︵┻━┻

Groggy, Maki stared at Rin’s message. She hadn’t done anything. Surely Eli couldn’t expect a response to that ridiculously long email about public presentation and the North Pole Nishikino industrial image. Maki usually had a week before Eli started to get twitchy about that sort of thing, especially when Maki was working off site.

M: What happened?

R: Motorcycle crash? Remember? Or did you forget your helmet again?

M: It wasn’t an accident. Someone ran over my bike. I wasn’t even on it ┐(´ー｀)┌

R: Eli’s still REALLY mad. Nozomi looked worried.

M: It’ll be fine. I’ll send her an email. Papa wasn’t upset.

R: Eli (╯=▃=)╯︵┻━┻

Maki decided it was time to take a walk.

Nico enjoyed market day, when she actually had the time to spend the morning downtown. So many people bustling happily, especially this time of year, that it was always easy to spread or catch a smile or a laugh. She was especially looking forward to stopping at her favorite bakery and seeing what treats they were making for the holidays. Take some food porn worthy pictures and she’d have a handy blog post, especially if she deconstructed the recipes and made her own versions.

Nico loved dressing for the season. Today, she had snowflake covered light blue leggings and a comfy red oversized sweater with a cartoony Christmas tree, white faux furry boots and a white puffy jacket. She’d only had a little fun with the lipstick, base red with some smudged white snowflakes. No snow yet, that’d be a story for tomorrow, according to the latest forecast, so today Nico was just going to enjoy the sun, the holiday bustle and the...Nico paused as she entered Central Market, the live music, holiday songs? Occasionally, someone would be playing the piano, but this was a much higher level of effort than Nico had ever heard her before, with the jazzy Vince Guaraldi Charlie Brown Christmas songs making for an auditory treat.

Nico headed for the piano, recognizing as she got closer the red hair bouncing as Maki’s long, slender fingers danced over the keys. There was only a second pause between songs, not much of a crowd had gathered. Nico frowned, they really should be more appreciative of this caliber a performer. Maki closed her eyes and then seemed to dive into the music. Nico knew this one. And she knew how to draw a crowd.

Market day. One of the pleasanter things about Tudor for Maki was their downtown market, open 3 days a week, with farmers and small business owners focusing mostly on local foods and crafts. There was also, right in the heart of the market, a piano, surrounded by some tables. Free for anyone to use. Maki had taken to spending an hour or so every weekend making sure her fingers stayed nimble. And since Thanksgiving, she didn’t have to fight the urge to play Christmas carols anymore. People welcomed them. Today, she hadn’t gathered a crowd, everyone was hurrying from stand to stand buying presents or supplies. A few people caught her eye and smiled, one little girl had watched for almost half an hour as Maki delivered her Santa related repertoire. Now, she was playing her way through the Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack, when she heard a voice break in and felt hands settle on her shoulders:

Snowflakes in the air Carols everywhere Olden times and ancient rhymes Of love and dreams to share Sleigh bells in the air Beauty everywhere Yuletide by the fireside And joyful memories there Christmas time is here families drawing near Oh, that we could always see Such spirit through the year

Then the pianist jerked a little as news personality Nico Yazawa whispered into her ear, beaming, “Good choice, Maki, with so many kids around. My siblings love Charlie Brown, we watch it every year.”

Today, Nico had opted once again for a seasonal theme in clothing as well as lipstick...Maki leaned back a little, pressing briefly into her surprise accompanist, as her fingers forgot how to play anything but random notes. Turning her head, she caught Nico’s smile at point blank range and her heart jumped. Nico seemed to have scattered snowflakes over her base red lips today. How did she manage that?

Nico glanced down, “No sheet music. Nico is impressed. Do you know “Frosty the Snowman”? The crowd will love it.”

Maki gulped, nervous, as Nico held her glance, red eyes encouraging. Maki nodded and played the first few notes. Nico started to sing along and let go of Maki’s shoulders, walking up to random people and getting them to join in. Soon there was a crowd and as Nico sang the last line, applause.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! Nico is just here to bring a little holiday cheer!” Nico curtsied and winked at Maki, whose mouth gaped open as Nico worked the crowd, yet somehow never lost eye contact with her. “What’ll we have next? Did you see Nico sing “Jingle Bells” on the noon show, yesterday, no, well it went like this.”

Nico slid into the bench, forcing Maki to move down. “Start us off, Maki.” Nico smiled “‘Jingle Bells’.” And Maki started to play.

More applause, Nico kneeling down to sign an autograph for a child, this was Maki’s chance to flee. She sprang up, ducked into the crowd and was heading for the door when she heard Nico say, “Let’s thank my accompanist, Maki Nish...hey, Maki, where you going?”

Some laughter, people must have thought it was a joke. Maki picked up her pace. She made it to the street before Nico caught up.

Nico maneuvered through people too easily, maybe her size gave her an advantage when dodging between them. “Hey, Red and Rushing…”

“It’s MAKI.” Maki whirled at Nico’s touch, “And I didn’t ask you to sing.”

Nico brushed off the correction, digging white gloves out of her parka, “But Nico thought you should have more of an audience. Sing alongs always make people smile. And we looked cute together.”

Nico looked cute. Maki was wearing her bomber, a t-shirt, grey sweats and steel toed work boots. Maki looked like laundry day. She shook her head, shoved her hands in her pockets, “Look, you’re a performer, I get that...”

“Nico is a journalist. So you don’t.” Nico corrected, confused, once again at Maki’s attitude. She’s been playing a piano beautifully in a public location and Nico had gotten people to notice.

Maki knew breaking off to head back to the Yorktowne would seem rude, but standing here on a street corner with those red eyes watching her and trying to figure out where the glitch was was not something Maki could tolerate for much longer.

“Fine. Sorry. You like having an audience,” Nico nodded, as if Maki had finally gotten something right, “But I don’t.”

Nico blinked, “You were playing a piano in public.”

Maki kicked the heel on one boot against the other’s instep, reluctantly admitting the problem. “It’s the only piano I could find.”

Nico looked sad for a flash of a second, then bounced back, “You are taking Nico to lunch to explain.”

“What?” Maki was 100% sure there was only one answer allowed. And Maki hadn’t said it.

Nico cancelled Maki’s escape attempt by latching on to her arm, “Where’s your favorite weekend lunch spot? Nico is curious about what Maki does in Tudor.”

“The pizza margherita at Vincenzo’s is amazing,” Maki finally managed to offer as she continued to fight the panicked urge to pull away from Nico’s clinginess.

“Oh good, it’s right down the block.” Nico started down the street, pulling Maki along.

The waitress had recognized Maki and asked if she wanted the usual. Maki said "Yes".

Nico delayered and settled into the booth across from Maki, “There’s enough to share, right?”

Maki nodded. Guess she wouldn’t be taking home half a pizza for breakfast then. But company was good. Nico kept watching her, as if some gesture, some motion would defuzz the focus for her.

“So is where you live a lot different from here?" Nico wondered, after giving Maki too much time to start the conversation.

Maki glanced around the restaurant, inhaling the warmth and oregano and fennelly sauce smells, “There’s only one diner, plus whatever the chefs at the company cafeteria put together. But they do a pretty robust international menu. And any time you want, you can get comfort food.” Maki almost licked her lips as she remembered the Spaghetti Bolognese they’d just put in rotation as the Tuesday dish. “We grow a lot of our own herbs and vegetables. Mama decided it would be healthier and implemented it when she married Papa. ” Nico laughed. Maki’s eyes narrowed, “What?”

“That’s cozy. Comfort food plus industrial innovation as a groom gift. You sound like you enjoy variety? Do you cook?” Nico fidgeted with the wine list on the table.

“Nope.” Maki didn’t mean to state it quite so proudly.

“Planning to marry a chef?” Nico teased, entertained by the light blush on Maki’s cheeks.

“A baker, maybe…” Maki got distracted by the sight of the pizza coming their way and actually answered the question.

Nico leaned into her hands, watching Maki pay no attention to her and “just met my hot date” levels of attention to the newly arrived pizza. It was unexpected. Nico was impossible to ignore. Piano playing must burn off calories. So Nico refrained from grandstanding, enjoying the opportunity to really look at the woman across from her, an intriguing mix of girly curves and sportif style. Nico had to admit she liked the way the two styles clashed, especially with such honest eyes. Nico could read so much in them, it was refreshing in a business where most flattery was a formality. But 10 seconds of Maki swooning over choosing slices was really enough. “That one looks good; Nico will take it.”

Maki glanced up, fingers on a crust, eyes wide and Nico knew the hungry redhead had forgotten Nico was there. Flattering. Nico sighed. But then there was that shy, sweet smile Nico liked better than sweets, “I’m so sorry, Nico…” and her name sliding so melodiously out of those lips as the initial slice was apologetically handed over. Nico might have been swooning herself by now, but Maki was on a date with someone named Margherita and not Nico. Given a little warning, of course, Nico could have made Maki forget anything else but this was an information gathering interview triggered by a random encounter, not a Date™. So Nico chewed quietly and thought seriously about what question to start with.

“So do you prefer jazz?” Nico asked when Maki reached for her second slice.

Maki paused, her lavender eyes thoughtful, then she shrugged, “Classical or jazz, both are challenging to play. And listen to.”

“Hmmm…” Of course, pizza girl would skip over the part where she asked Nico questions. So Nico provided the answer, “Nico likes K and J-pop.”

Maki almost put down her pizza, not bothering to hide her distaste at the Nico’s revelation of Nico’s taste in music. “Aren’t those the silly songs where the band members wear as little clothing as possible?”

“Hey,” Nico almost flung her crust as she pointed it at Maki, “Those are very danceable, if you dance anything newer than the grandparent wallflower waltz. They make people smile, give them energy.” Nico dropped the crust and brushed crumbs off her hands, “And what’s wrong with sexy costumes, some of the groups have the best fashion insight. Nico picks up tips. Just now, menswear is hot, the latest Mamamoo video, Moonbyul rocking suits onstage, sexy, but,” Nico let herself get a little snarky as she quoted Maki, “not as ‘little clothing as possible.’ Sexy with style. Nico likes that. Nico looks good in that.” Nico refrained from saying she looks good in anything. Here was Maki and the night they’d met, Nico had been rocking ‘knocked sideways into weather’ chic.” So Maki already knew that.

Maki shook her head, continuing to chew, “You are going to take fashion tips from girls in suits...you seem too…”

Nico grabbed another piece, resisting the urge to flex her frequently worked out, can lift twice what people would expect bicep,“Nico is adaptable. I’m thinking tux for New Year’s Eve.”

“Tuxedo?” Maki tilted her head, one eye squinting, obviously trying to picture Nico in the outfit.

“Tuxedo jacket.” Nico specified, stretching her leg out, “And fishnets.” She winked when Maki’s eyes finished the tour of her leggings. Maki grunted and glanced away, fumbling to pick up her napkin. Nico was starting to have fun.

“So why play at market if you don’t want an audience?” Leave Maki with the New Year’s Eve outfit visuals to imagine and move on. Nico congratulated herself on a solid strategy.

“You can’t just pack your piano when you travel.” Maki crumpled her napkin, tossing it on her plate. “I found that one the first month, mostly people don’t notice.”

Nico tapped Maki’s hand, “Nico doesn’t believe that. These have talent. Obvious talent.”

Maki started, quickly pulling her hands all the way back to her lap, then tried to figure out how to take a sip of her slightly too distant iced tea without exposing them. Nico almost giggled as Maki decided to lean slowly toward the straw, stretching her neck out.

“This is really good pizza.” Nico smiled.

Maki glanced up from her straw maneuvering, “I’m glad you liked it.”

“Maybe next time, I’ll take you to one of my favorite lunch places.” Nico edged the iced tea closer to Maki, who latched onto the straw with her mouth, taking a long sip. Then she sat back, twisting glistening lips together as she thought for a minute, eyes brightening at her decision, “Maybe.”

Nico bounced up, “Nico will take that as a date. How much do I owe you for the pizza?”

“You’re leaving?” Maki and Nico seemed equally surprised by the redhead’s disappointment.

Nico twirled, graceful even in the small space, “Nico’s the weekend anchor. So I have a show to get ready for.”

“Oh.” The gleam in Maki’s eyes dimmed, “don’t worry about the pizza. I’ll take care of it.”

“Thanks, Maki.” Nico swept in so fast Maki couldn’t dodge and kissed her cheek, “Play the piano again for me sometime, okay?”

Maki nodded, hand ghosting over her cheek. Nico thought the pianist wasn’t even aware the gesture had happened. Nico could definitely work with this.

Maki had been shopping for snacks to restock her mini fridge, then run out of errands to run. So she’d gone to see the latest blockbuster. Boring. Neither of these activities were nearly lively enough to follow up her accidental lunch ‘date’ with Nico Yazawa, so, once again, Maki found herself back in her hotel room, sprawled out on her couch, alternating between staring at stripey walls and the not so stripey ceiling. She hadn’t posted anything on TWIG today so she took a ceiling shot with the caption “needs more cookies.”

Immediate response.

StormCookie: Isn’t that your ceiling? Cookies will fall. Gravity ヽ(´Д`;)ﾉ

SantaChan: ｰ( ￣▽)_皿~~ On me ヽ(o♡o)/

StormCookie: SantaSpoiled, cookies don’t grow on ceilings. Or trees. You have to (σ`・∀・)σ BAKE them.

SantaChan: No (-_☆)V

StormCookie: You’re in a good mood. Need the second step yet?

SantaChan: Sure.

StormCookie: Are you sitting down? (-｡-;

SantaChan: Sort of…

StormCookie: Well, SantaSortof, the second step is...LOOK UP FROM YOUR PHONE

Maki was shocked that StormCookie would suggest that in the middle of their conversation. Was StormCookie bored? Or busy? Or…

SantaChan: But you’re here （´υ｀）

StormCookie: ⊂(ﾟДﾟ;⊂⌒`つ Actually, I have to run soon. So, step 2 is look up from your phone. Bonus: step 3 for advanced students, talk to the cute girl. I did it, so can you ಠ‿↼

“Talk to the cute girl.” That sounded like Rin. Maki chuckled before she heard the next part play in her head “I did it?” Was StormCookie dating someone? Or trying to? And what would that mean for...suddenly, Maki felt sick to her stomach again, cold sweat on her forehead.

StormCookie had sent another DM.

StormCookie: I have faith in you, apprentice (￣ー￣)ｂ Step away from the phone and the cute girls will flock.

And then Maki will forget to offer them slices of pizza and insult their music choices. Maki sighed, hugged her phone to her chest, reaching again for the blanket while calculating the hours she had to wait until the Channel 10 Weekend News.

A/N:

A little shorter than I'd planned (so you might get 4 chapters), but I wanted to post today.

Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays or...Thanks for reading. It means a lot.

Take care!

#nicomaki #Christmas #fanfic #Santa Cutie And The Christmas Cookie Queen #Holiday #pizza #nishikino maki #yazawa nico #love live

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