#I may be lame enough on Amis that I always ask “who the fuck is Bossuet?”

[breadvidence]

Modern AU woes. Intending to murder Javert was the most fun Enjolras had at the barricade and I'm just gonna take that away from him and his pals.

#liveblogging from the writing trenches #this is tongue in cheek #please do not explain Enjolras and killing to me #he obeys necessity he judges himself he condemns himself etc. #I may be lame enough on Amis that I always ask “who the fuck is Bossuet?” #but I am not so lame I dodged the profound ambivalence about killing

[cadence-talle]

Sugar Snow and Peppermint Pathways

Pairing: Fitz Vacker/Dex Dizznee, Sophie Foster/Biana Vacker

Wordcount: 9,587

Summary: Unlike many baking shows out there, the Holiday Bake-Off isn’t elimination-based, which viewers claim makes it all the more interesting. Each competitor, however, is entirely on their own- which means that if the Vacker siblings do attend, they’ll be working against each other for the first time ever.

Dex rolls out the cookie dough again. "I hate them so much."

(Or: nearly everyone is a famous baker, Biana and Fitz are both a little bit in love, and Dex Dizznee does not, under any circumstances, want to interact with the Vackers.) 

Other notes: my Winter Exchange gift for @yeetersofthelostcities! I probably wasn’t supposed to tell you as much about this fic as I did, but it’s also 9k, so I think you can forgive me.

Read it on AO3 (much recommended since this is long and some of the fonts didn’t quite translate to Tumblr) or under the cut!

World-Famous Vacker Siblings Rumored To Be On 2020’s Annual Holiday Bake-Off 

Fitzroy and Biana Vacker have been making a lot of headlines this year, from the opening of their new bakery in Chicago to the millions of dollars they’ve donated to various charities around the globe. The sibling duo seems to have been born with baking skills- and it’s no surprise, since their mother is Della Vacker, author of five bestselling cookbooks. (See our biography of Della Vacker if you’d like to learn more!) 

But this December may mark their greatest trial yet. Netflix’s Happy Holiday Bake-Off garnered more than three million views last year, and it’s set to get even more attention this year now that four-star restaurant owner Edaline Ruewen is hosting. 

For those of you new to the bake-off, the rules are simple: it’s comprised of five different baking challenges, spread out over the week leading up to Christmas Day. Each of the eight competitors will have five different chances to wow the judges- and on the final day, whoever’s made the most impact will win thousands of dollars. Unlike many baking shows out there, the Holiday Bake-Off isn’t elimination-based, which viewers claim makes it all the more interesting. Each competitor, however, is entirely on their own- which means that if the Vacker siblings do attend, they’ll be working against each other for the first time ever. 

--read more--

OTHER NEWS

13 Christmas Cookie recipes to brighten up your winter! 

“It’s All In The Butter”: Edaline Ruewen shares the secret of her famous butterblasts! 

Fintan Pyren opens a new barbeque joint in Upper Manhattan. Its name? Flambé. 

Subscribe to BAKER’S WEEKLY ONLINE today and get a free tote bag! 

-/-

December 12, 2020.

Biana Vacker’s Self-Proclaimed Trash Can Fire

New York City, New York.

“No.”

“Yes,” Biana says cheerfully, leaning over the dining room table to ruffle her brother’s hair. Fitz glares at her. “I’ve already signed the papers.” 

“But-” Fitz sighs, apparently already giving up. “Ugh. I’m busy.” 

“Fun fact: spending thirty hours trying to refine the perfect croissant recipe does not qualify as being ‘busy’. Our croissants are delicious. They don’t need any more work. You, however, need a vacation.” 

“Funner fact: competing against my own sister on a reality show broadcast to the country is less of a vacation than working out apricot croissants would be.” 

“Even more fun fact: ‘funner’ is not a word.” 

“Even funner fact: I literally do not give a single fuck.” 

Della’s laugh crackles over the phone, warm and bright. “Language, Fitzroy,” she says. Livvy snorts. 

“He’s twenty-two years old, Dell. I don’t think you get to say that.” 

Biana giggles. She can almost picture the scene at the other end of the call- her moms curled up on the couch, Della nursing a cup of mulled cider as Livvy talks intently about her patients at the hospital. Their menorah will have four candles lit by tonight, mirroring the one that sits on Biana’s own side table. The whole house will be filled with warmth and laughter. 

Biana misses that sometimes, looking around her empty apartment. Wishes she was still a little girl and could snuggle up next to her mom and watch The Nutcracker because Della knew, without asking, that Biana was sad. Before all this… responsibility.

That’s not really fair, though, because when she was a little girl Livvy wasn’t there, and Della was sad, and Fitz was angry. So maybe she doesn’t miss the old days- maybe she just misses having someone there to understand her. 

Fitz is here, she reminds herself. He’s not leaving. He’s good, and he’s not leaving. 

“... chocolate chips on the ceiling,” her brother is saying when Biana snaps back to the conversation. Over the phone, Della groans. 

“Don’t even mention that. Goodness, I’m glad you’ve left the ‘crazy parties’ stage of your life behind, Fitz. Those were hell to clean up after.” 

“I don’t know, it was pretty funny to watch him try to repair a chair while hungover the next morning,” Biana teases. Fitz rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. 

“I didn’t-” 

There’s a loud beeping noise Biana registers as an oven timer, and she spins around towards her kitchen before realizing it’s coming from her moms’ end. Della makes an apologetic noise. 

“Sorry, darlings, we should go. I love you!”

“Love you too,” Biana and Fitz echo. There’s a rustling sound, like Della is moving to hang up, and then she pauses. 

“Oh, and Fitz, I think the Holiday Bake-Off is a wonderful idea. Good luck!” 

And then Biana’s phone is flashing the Time Elapsed: 22 minutes screen, and her brother is back to glaring at her. 

“No.”

“I’m not arguing this anymore,” Biana says, moving towards the kitchen and filling up a pot of water. “Do we want spaghetti for dinner?”

“Sure,” Fitz retrieves several cans of tomato sauce and dumps them in a pot. “I just- sorry. What if we lose?”

“Well, at least one of us is going to lose,” Biana points out. “And even if we both get the lowest ratings in the entire show, so what? We don’t need the money.”

“But-” Fitz waves his hands in the air. “We’re going to be- people are going to be watching us. What happens if we fuck up?” 

Oh. Of course that’s what he’s worried about. Fitz has always, always been worried about public appearances. Biana sets the water on the stove and moves over to him, leaning against the opposite counter. 

“Bro. Man. My dude.” She says seriously. Fitz purses his lips in a way that makes it clear he’s hiding a smile. “Fitz, we’re going to be fine. No one’s going to be judging how we do in this competition.”

“Sorry, do you hear yourself?”

“Okay, fair, but you know what I mean. Losing this contest isn’t going to wreck our business. If we can strike up enough of a friendship with whoever does win, we could even stand to grow.”

Fitz stares at her. Biana stares back. The tomato sauce starts to bubble. 

“Fine,” Fitz finally says. “Do we have any veggie meatballs?” 

-/-

December 13, 2020.

The Good Place Bakery

Middlebury, Vermont. 

Dex drops the cookie dough onto the flour-covered counter, smacking it with what’s probably more force than necessary. It holds up, though, and he cuts out two entire trays of tiny snowmen and stars before his co-owner arrives in a blaze of glory. 

“Guess who’s got a date this weekend!” Keefe sings, dumping his coat on a hook and pushing himself up on the counter. He gets a good look at Dex’s face and frowns. “Whoa, who bruleed your creme?”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Dex rolls his eyes, “and everything’s fine. What poor guy did you pick up now?”

“His name’s Nathan and he’s beautiful,” Keefe sighs. “But don’t try to change the subject. Why do you have your grumpy face on?”

Dex grabs the letter from where he threw it across the room half an hour ago and hands it to the other man. Keefe skims it. 

“You have been invited onto Netflix’s Happy Holiday Bake-Off,” he reads. He glances up at Dex. “Okay… didn’t we already know that? Soph’s been talking about the contest for weeks.”

“Yes, but I got more information this time around,” Dex says tightly. “And it turns out the Vacker siblings are also competing.”

“Oh.” Keefe sets the letter down and picks up one of the cookie sheets, sliding it into the oven. “Well, I think you can beat them.”

“Of course I can beat them,” Dex snaps. “That’s not the problem. The problem is-” he sweeps up the dough scraps and prepares to roll them out again. “The problem is they’re fake and I don’t like them.”

He’s aware he sounds like a child. It’s hard to describe, though, what makes him so frustrated about the Vacker siblings. The two of them just make it look so… easy, though. Born into fame and given a head start in front of everyone else. Dex had to take out three different loans to start this bakery, and even that was with Keefe’s huge trust fund. 

“They’re just… fake,” he says lamely. “No one’s that perfect.” 

“Mmm.” Keefe hums, then murmurs, “okay, but you know who is that perfect?”

Dex sighs. “Okay, tell me about Nathan.”

Keefe is halfway through the story of how they met- at the library, apparently, because that’s widely known to be the most romantic spot in town- when Amy shoves through the doors and steals an unbaked cookie. 

“Morning,” she grins around a mouthful of crumbs. Dex raises an eyebrow and slides the cookie sheet towards Keefe before she can eat more. 

“Morning,” he says. “How’s Marty?”

“Still hates everyone but Sophie,” Amy shrugs. “Who isn’t here, obviously, because she and Mom are in Chicago setting up the Bake-Off.” She squints at Dex. “I can’t believe you got onto the show. There have to be rules against that.”

“Technically, that only applies if it’s direct relation. So, like, kids and parents.” Keefe grabs a piece of cookie dough. “Plus, even if Edaline did give Dex super high ratings on everything, he can’t win unless the other judges agree.”

“You’re going to get salmonella,” Dex tells the two of them. “But yeah, Keefe’s right. I’ll have to actually try if I want to win.”

“Do you?” Amy asks. Dex bites his lip, dusting some flour off his shirt.

“The money would be nice, I guess. But- I don’t know. We’ll get publicity either way, and that’s what’s important.”

“Attaboy,” Keefe gives him a thumbs-up. “You’re gonna win all the brownie points. Well, assuming they have you make brownies.”

“I-” Dex stares at him, shaking his head. “Why don’t you tell Amy about Nathan.” 

-/-

December 17, 2020.

Some Fancy Hotel

Chicago, Illinois. 

Biana glances around the room, light reflecting off the chandelier above and casting glittering patterns on the carpet and various couches scattered around the hall-like space. Four days have passed she broke the news to Fitz, and she’s wondering if this was a bad idea after all.

She’s not the first one here, thank goodness; there’s a tiny blond woman seated on a chair further down chatting to a man with silver-dyed bangs and a frizzy-haired woman tapping impatiently on her phone a few feet away. A door at the other end of the hall presumably leads further into the hotel. 

A buzz in her pocket prompts her to retrieve her phone, and Biana opens it to find three texts from her brother.

ritzroy

Ok I made it to our room

[image.jpg]

There’s a paper crane on the kitchen counter is this some sort of message

me

yes.

they're trying to tell u that u r a paper crane

ritzroy

*you *are 

I know you only do that to annoy me.

me

<3

now get down here i feel awkward standing all by myself

ritzroy 

Have you tried talking to people?

me

fuck you

Sighing a bit, she plops down on a couch half-obscured by a large plant. Someone coughs from where they’re sitting next to her and Biana turns around to apologize. 

“Hi,” says Sophie Foster. 

Biana stares. The woman is about half an inch shorter than her, blond hair tucked back into a ponytail and white blouse slightly wrinkled. Biana’s seen this face on television upwards of a hundred times- the award-winning chef daughter of Grady and Edaline Ruewen attracts attention, after all- but never quite like this, with eyebrows furrowed and mouth tilted a little to the side. 

“Hey,” Biana says about a minute too late. “Hey, sorry, I didn’t know there was someone sitting here.” 

“No problem,” Sophie assures her. “You’re Biana Vacker, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Biana nods, slightly stunned that Sophie Elizabeth Foster knows her name. “You’re- Sophie Foster.”  

“That’s me,” Sophie says, smiling a little. “You ready for the competition?”

“Definitely,” Biana responds. “I mean, I don’t celebrate Christmas, but I watched the Holiday Bake-Off last year, and it seems like it’s super fun? And it’ll be cool to see what other people make too.” 

“Yeah.” Silence falls over the two of them, and Biana cringes inwardly. This is the worst possible thing. Where on earth is her brother? 

Searching for something to say, Biana opens her mouth. “Um-”

“Huh?” Sophie turns a little more towards her, eyes fixed on Biana’s face. Biana swallows a little.

“Uh, I was actually really nervous when I noticed I was sitting next to you. I’m kind of a huge fan.” 

Sophie blinks. “You’re kidding.”

“No?”

“When I found out you were going to be competing, I literally asked my mom if she could get me on the show because I wanted to meet you so bad.”

Biana’s staring again. “Oh.” 

Sophie’s phone buzzes and she pulls it out, tapping the screen. Biana tilts her head a little in confusion.

“Gotta go,” Sophie says with an apologetic smile. She stands up and starts towards the door, turning back to say one last thing before she leaves. 

“You’re even prettier in person.” 

When Fitz shows up two minutes later, Biana’s still staring wide-eyed at the place where Sophie was just standing. Her brother flops down onto the couch next to her and raises an eyebrow. 

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” Biana shakes her head. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Well, I dropped the bags off. The room’s nice,” Fitz offers. “Oh, and Mom says we should video chat tonight. She wants the tea.”

Biana blinks. “The… tea.”

“Her words, not mine.”

“Yeah, I think I could tell. What-”

“Hello, everyone!” The door at the end of the hall swings open and a smiling red-haired woman steps out, followed by two others. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I’m Edaline Ruewen, from Vermont. I’ll be one of the judges next week. We’re all gonna go around and introduce ourselves, I’ll outline a schedule, and then y’all will be free to go. Cadence?”

“Good afternoon,” a tall dark-skinned woman greets. “I’m Cadence Talle, food journalist for the LA Times. I’ll be another one of your judges, along with-”

“Bronte.” The third man interrupts. He raises an eyebrow at the faces waiting for him to go on. “Well?”

“Looks like someone’s judging us already,” Fitz whispers. Biana muffles a laugh in her coat sleeve as the blond woman from before speaks up. 

“Hi, I’m Marella Redek. I’m a pastry chef over in Portland.” 

“Tam Song. I do the baking for a restaurant here in the city.”

People introduce themselves quickly, names flashing by in quick succession- Maruca Chebota, Jensi Babblos, Stina Heks. 

“I’m Biana Vacker,” Biana says when it’s her turn. “My brother and I co-manage a couple bakeries across the country.” 

Fitz raises his hand. “I’m her brother.” 

“Dex Dizznee,” says the last competitor, a strawberry-blond man seated on the arm of a couch. “I have a bakery up in Middlebury.” 

“Wait, The Good Place?” Fitz leans forward. “I made your chocolate cream pie recipe once. It’s fantastic.”

Dex blinks, face finally settling in an expression that reminds Biana of some of the people at the huge dinner parties her dad used to throw- carefully, delicately concealed disdain. She wonders what Fitz has done to warrant that look. 

“Oh, that’s cool,” Dex says calmly. “Chocolate cream is one of my co-owner’s favorites, actually.” 

Fitz nods. “Neat.” 

Edaline smiles at them, clapping her hands for attention. “All right! Let’s go over the schedule, then. The first round is on Saturday, and the last one is next Wednesday. You’ll be expected to arrive at the kitchens by eleven am…”

“What’s up with him?” Biana whispers. Fitz raises one shoulder in a tiny shrug. 

“I don’t know, but he doesn’t seem to like me very much.”

There’s no way Dex can hear them- he’s nearly fifteen feet away and Edaline’s voice carries throughout the entire hall. Still, he’s staring at Fitz when Biana glances at him, and there’s molten caramel in his gaze. 

-/-

December 17, 2020.

Some Fancy Room In Some Fancy Hotel

Chicago, Illinois.

“And then he just went, ‘Neat.’ Neat? Like, what the fuck?”

“Dude, you know I love you, but don’t you think you’re making a bit of a big deal out of this? He just complimented the bakery.”

Dex heaves a sigh, flopping onto his hotel bed and staring up at the light fixture. It’s probably trendy, with all those boxes or whatever, but Dex can’t really tell. This is why he’s a baker. 

“I know, I know. He just- gets under my skin. I’ve been pissed all day.”

“Funny,” Keefe says, and Dex can just hear him smiling. “I thought you had more of a problem with the Vackers as a whole than you did with Fitz. Or is he just too attractive to be anything but your singular arch-nemesis?” 

“Enemies to lovers speedrun,” Amy calls in the background and Keefe laughs. He’s probably having dinner with Grady and Amy tonight like they typically do once a month. Normally, Dex, Sophie and Edaline are there too. 

Dex’s family is weirdly spread across the country- Grady and Edaline live an hour away, Rex and Bex are somehow both coexisting at Seattle University while Lex stays closer to home back in Michigan, and Sophie and Amy split their time between Middlebury and their apartment in San Francisco. They do their best to stay in touch, though, even with the bakery’s odd hours and the Ruewen’s constant media appearances. 

“So how’s the hotel?” Keefe asks. Dex shrugs. 

“It’s a hotel. My room has a little kitchen, which is nice, and there’s, like, a bigger community pantry-slash-kitchen down the hall. It feels like college.” 

“College is worse, actually,” Amy says. Dex snorts.

“You say that like I haven’t been to college.” 

“Dude, we met in college,” Keefe points out, “and you did not get the full college experience. You just, like, baked 23/7 and then miraculously passed all your classes with the last hour.”

“Yes,” Dex says over the sound of Amy’s cackling. “Yes, that is exactly what I did. You’re completely right.” 

“I know,” Keefe says. “I’m always right. I have, never, ever done anything wrong.”

“You called me this morning to freak out over your date outfit for a date that’s three days away, but go off I guess.” Amy deadpans. 

“Fuck you-” The sounds of a small scuffle come through the speakers and Dex rolls his eyes. 

“I’m going to sleep,” he calls. “See you guys in a week.”

“Good luck!” Amy calls, and Dex hangs up. 

-/-

December 19, 2020.

Netflix’s Test Kitchen

Chicago, Illinois.

Biana tucks one last strand of hair back into her braid and glances over at the imposing black camera standing next to her station. There are ones just like it scattered around the entire room, fluorescent overhead lights reflected off their shiny exteriors. It’ll be weird trying to bake with someone recording her the whole time, but she can take it.

“Good morning, everyone!” Edaline calls, sweeping out to the judges bench with Cadence and Bronte close on her heels. There’s some sort of sheet-covered circle on the wall behind them. “I hope y’all are ready to bake!”

Everyone cheers and Edaline throws her head back, laughing a laugh with just enough snort in it to sound real. Biana’s reminded suddenly of her own mother; Edaline has the same sort of tough core and caring nature covered by a thin layer of plastic for the cameras. She wonders if Sophie is the same.

“And without further ado,” Edaline says. Biana snaps her attention back, hoping she hasn’t missed anything important. “Today’s challenge is…”

Bronte tugs on the fabric and it falls away to reveal a casino-style roulette wheel. If Biana squints, she can see words written on each colored section; CHOCOLATE and RASPBERRY and ALMOND. 

“Cookies,” he announces. 

Cadence sweeps her gaze over all of them. “Spin the wheel twice to find out what ingredients you need to include, and then you’ll have forty-five minutes to bake. Understood?”

Biana nods, glancing at the camera out of the corner of her eye and rearranging her face into something a bit more excited. She should probably start thinking about what to say in the post-baking interview.

Fitz is the first to spin the wheel, and he gets COCONUT and STRAWBERRY. He looks a little confused but smiles, media persona still firmly in place. 

Biana gets GINGER and CHOCOLATE, returning to her station with a wide smile. This recipe is one she created with Livvy- they were home alone while Della and Fitz went out to a show and decided to try the most difficult food combinations they could think of.

Honey-covered crickets were surprisingly delicious. Hot sauce mixed with Gatorade was not.

(I knew what I was going to do immediately, she tells the cameras afterward. It’s a family favorite; chocolate-ginger crinkle cookies.)

She retrieves a packet of candied ginger and grabs two bags of chocolate chips, dumping one bag in a saucepan and starting to melt them. A few feet away, Dex Dizznee stares at his ingredients- ALMOND and ANISE, a fairly simple combination- before turning away towards the ingredients. If Biana had to hazard a guess, she’d say he’s making biscotti. 

(Biscotti’s probably too obvious for almonds, Dex shrugs later, but my friend Keefe and I perfected an almond-anise biscotti a while back and I figured, why waste what little time I had on something new?)

Once she gets started, it’s easy to just focus on the recipe. She’s not like Fitz; baking’s not the be-all end-all stress reliever it is for him, but there’s definitely something comforting about the familiar motions. Before she knows it, she’s pulling the sheets out of the oven and arranging the prettiest ones on a plate for the judges to try.

Marella Redek goes up first, showing off her caramel-pecan shortbread with a polite smile. 

(I’m just glad I didn’t get one of those crazy combinations, she says with a sigh of relief.)

Then Fitz, who’s managed to make tiny sandwich cookies filled with strawberry jam and dusted with coconut in forty-five minutes. He fidgets with his hands as the judges taste them.

(I was really worried when I got my ingredients. I’m so relieved they turned out okay.) 

Biana’s cookies go over well, Cadence nodding and reaching for another one. Finally Dex Dizznee steps up. 

“Almond-anise biscotti,” he says with a small smile. The judges all bite into the cookies at the same time and smile.

“Delicious,” Bronte says. Dex grins and steps back to his station.

Fifteen minutes later, the contestants stand in front of the judges bench in a straight line, worried eyes and tapping feet all the way down.

“All your cookies were exquisite,” Edaline says. “But one of you made a fantastic first impression.” 

Cadence offers the group a tiny, sideways smile. “Dexter Dizznee,” she says. “You are today’s winner.”

There’s a round of applause and Dex’s cheeks go a little bit red. 

“Thank you,” he says.

(I won! It’s only the first round, of course, but I’m still proud to have started off on the right foot.)

“Hey,” Biana nudges her brother’s shoulder as they trail out of the room for individual interviews.“That wasn’t too bad, huh?” 

“No,” Fitz tilts his head and glances back at the still-smiling Dex. “I guess it wasn’t.”

(I don’t think I’m too sad about losing this round. Dex’s cookies looked absolutely delicious, anyway.)

Biana’s phone buzzes on the way back to her room. She pulls it out to see two messages from an unknown number. 

415-623-7868 

hi!! sorry if this is mega creepy but it was super cool to meet you the other day and i’d love to talk more sometime

this is sophie foster btw

“Holy shit,” Biana whispers. Her brother turns around with a questioning glance but she waves him off. “Nothing, I’m fine.” She’s pretty sure she’s grinning at her phone screen with all the force of a thousand suns. “I’m totally fine.”

(Tomorrow, we try again.) 

-/-

December 20, 2020.

Netflix’s Test Kitchen

Chicago, Illinois. 

Buoyed by the previous day’s success and an especially good breakfast buffet (he is not immune to chocolate-chip pancakes, no matter what he might claim), Dex practically floats into the kitchen the next day. His mood isn’t even brought down by Bronte’s lackluster announcement that the second challenge is simply Snowflakes. The bakery’s meringues are a town favorite for a reason, after all, and that reason is that they’re fucking good. 

He does get annoyed, though, by the man leaning against a counter a few feet away as he pipes the meringue. Fitz Vacker is tapping his fingers against the marble, watching the ice cream machine with a calm sort of fixation. Dex huffs and accidentally pipes too much meringue on the baking sheet. 

“Do you mind?” He grumbles under his breath. Fitz’s head snaps up. 

“Sorry,” he says, slight accent curling around his words. It’s not a British accent or really any sort Dex can discern, and that just makes him more frustrated. “Am I in your way?”

“No,” Dex says as politely as he can. He’s well aware of the cameras standing a few feet away. “No, you're fine.”

Fitz nods and tilts his head towards the meringues, apparently taking Dex’s grudging silence as an invitation. “Those look pretty good.”

“Thank you,” Dex says shortly, letting out an annoyed sigh internally when Fitz doesn’t budge. “You’re making ice cream?”

“Heh, yeah. I couldn’t really think of anything else, so.” Fitz shrugs. “Ice cream bars.” He scratches the back of his neck, looking a little embarrassed. “At least it’s cold, right? Like snow.” 

This startles a laugh out of Dex. “Yeah, like snow.” He leans back a little to give the now-completed snowflakes a once-over. “What do you think?”

“They look great!” Fitz enthuses, jumping a bit when the ice cream machine lets out a long beep. “Oh, looks like that’s me. I should go. Nice to meet you!”

And then he’s off to his own station, bowl of ice cream clutched tightly in one hand. Dex allows himself thirty seconds of staring into the camera like he’s on The Office before he sighs and slides the meringues into the oven. 

What on earth was that. 

He bumps into Sophie on his way out of the room after interviews. Biana Vacker’s chocolate-pecan-bark snowflakes won today; unsurprising, since they looked almost real- and he kind of just wants to go back to his room and sleep for a month. His cousin, however, seems to have other ideas.

“Quick,” she says, grabbing his arm. Her phone is in her other hand, screen lighting up with a message. “How much would my mom kill me if I went on a date with one of the Bake-Off contestants?”

“Um,” Dex blinks. “I’m going to need some more information?” 

“Okay, so I met Biana Vacker the other day, and I might have gotten her number from the contestant files we have? And then texted her? For like five hours last night? And I might have asked her out and she might have said yes?” Sophie tugs at her eyelashes. “Please help me, I have no idea what the fuck I’m going to do.”

“You’re going on a date with Biana Vacker,” Dex confirms. “Why?” 

“Because she’s smart, and pretty, and incredibly funny, and because I don’t have some weird hate-obsession with her.” 

“I don’t-”

“Yes, you do. Seriously, how much is Mom going to murder me for this?”

“How much is Mom going to murder you for what?”

Edaline’s standing a few feet away, arms folded across her chest and eyebrows raised. Sophie’s eyes go wide, but she sighs as if already giving up.

Dex gets it. Edaline is scary when she wants to be.

“Is it illegal and-slash-or nepotism if I go on a date with Biana Vacker tomorrow night?”

Edaline blinks. “Probably not? As long as you can confirm that she’s not using you to get further in the contest.” She shrugs. “I could talk to Cadence and Bronte about it, but they were all right with Dex being on the show, so.”

“Wait, really?” Sophie grins and throws her arms around her mother. “This is the best. Thanks, Mom! I’m gonna go text her.” 

She takes off down the hall, typing frantically. Edaline watches her go with a fond smile. 

“It’s incredibly weird to see her this old,” She says to Dex. “I still think of her as twelve, honestly.”

Dex snorts. “Yeah.”

“So,” Edaline cocks her head, looking at him with the same I’m going to ask you a question and we both know what the right answer is look that Dex’s own mother has. “I saw you talking to Fitz Vacker earlier. Making friends?”

“No.” Dex says immediately. Then he rolls his eyes. “He’s not as bad as I was expecting, though.”

“What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know, like, posh and rich and British or whatever they are. But he’s actually a decent person or whatever.”

“Or whatever.” Edaline laughs. “Well, I’m glad you’re having fun either way. I’ve got to get to a meeting, but I’ll see you later, all right? Say hi to Keefe for me.”

Dex nods and heads back to his room.

He really needs to sleep. 

-/-

December 21, 2020.

The Art Institute of Chicago

Chicago, Illinois.

“Here we are,” Sophie says as they push through museum security and enter the clearly-marked Thorne Rooms. Biana glances at the art curiously; the exhibit is made up of tiny glass windows set into low walls all around. She peers into one and lets out a tiny gasp. 

“Oh.”

It’s a tiny room in there; chairs and sofas all with perfectly embroidered cushions as small as Biana’s thumb. Through minuscule doors in the back, Biana glimpses a painted background and a balcony. It’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. 

Sophie snorts behind her, and Biana realizes she said that last bit out loud. “Right? It’s all real, too. Took Narcissa Thorne and her craftsmen eight years.”

“Wow.” 

“I used to come here all the time,” Sophie says, stepping forward and tracing one finger over the glass. “Whenever we were in town. I wished I could live in some of these rooms.” She glances back at Biana and gives a little self-deprecating smile. “Pretty stupid, probably.”

“No, it’s not,” Biana shakes her head. “I get it. It would be nice to escape for a little bit, especially to a place that looks like that.” She tilts her head at the room. Sophie laughs. 

“I’ll bet it gets really dusty, though. And that chair seems highly uncomfortable.”

They move throughout the whole exhibit, making low comments to each other every time they see a particularly amazing piece of furniture or a fancy candlestick. Biana finds herself relaxing more and more- Sophie is smart, and funny, and keeps shooting her little smiles that make Biana’s knees weak. 

That day’s competition had been the hardest yet. Each contestant had had to make a dessert based around a Christmas carol; a specific, judge-assigned Christmas carol. It was, for lack of a better term, absolute shit.

Biana had gotten Santa Claus Is Coming To Town- not the worst, considering the circumstances, and at least she knew it- and had had to figure out how to map the route of an overweight stalker on baked goods. 

She hadn’t won; that honor had gone to Maruca Chebota’s fondant replica of a sleigh for Over The River And Through The Woods. (Biana is pretty sure that song is actually a Thanksgiving song, but she wasn’t going to contradict.) Still, Biana’s happy, content as they leave the museum and move down to an Italian restaurant a few blocks away. Smiling as Sophie’s hand brushes against hers. 

They get settled in a little corner near a window, knees bumping under the table. The room is dim, lit by one chandelier in the middle and candles on every table. It’s warm, something delicious wafting through the air. 

Sophie leans forward to grab a menu, hair lit golden in the candlelight, and Biana revises her earlier statement. The Thorne Rooms aren’t the most beautiful things she’s ever seen. This woman is. 

“Everything okay?” Sophie asks. Biana realizes she’s been staring and gives her a quick nod. 

“Yeah, no. Everything’s perfect.” She glances down at the tablecloth, sees Sophie fidgeting with the edge of her napkin. “Are you all right?”

“I, uh,” Sophie tugs at one of her eyelashes. “I just wanted to say that I don’t really tend to talk to my mom about the competition? So, like, if you’re just trying to get an edge or something-”

“No!” Biana shakes her head, reaching forward to grab the other woman’s hand. “No, no no. Absolutely not. This is like, the opposite of that.” 

“Pretty sure the opposite of that would be divorcing me to lose the Bake-Off,” Sophie says, but she’s smiling. Biana smiles back. 

“Well, I don’t want to do that either.”

“What do you want to do?”

Biana shrugs. “I don’t know. This is pretty nice. I like spending time with you.”

Sophie blushes and tightens her grip on Biana’s hand. “I-”

“Pardon me.” There’s a waiter standing next to their table, notepad in hand. He offers them an awkward smile. “Are you ready to order?”

“Right!” Biana says at the same time as Sophie’s “Yes! For sure! Just give me a second!”. They grin at each other and look back down at the menus. 

“Thank you,” Sophie murmurs after they’ve ordered. Biana doesn’t have to ask what for. 

“Of course.”

(Biana leans down to kiss her barely an hour later. Sophie smiles against her lips and tugs her in closer.)

(Biana doesn’t get back to her hotel that night.)

-/-

December 22, 2020.

Some Fancy Hotel 

Chicago, Illinois. 

Dex can’t sleep. 

There’s no particular reason why, no loud party down the street or flashing lights outside his window. He just can’t sleep, which is especially frustrating when he glances at the clock and finds it’s one AM. Tomorrow- or, today, really- is event four, and if he wants to make a good impression, he’d better do it on more than three hours of sleep.

Heaving a sigh, he flops himself out of bed and flips on the light switch. As long as he’s awake, he might as well read or something. 

A loud crash sounds from down the hall. Dex blinks and grabs his sneakers, opening his door and peeking out. No one’s in sight, but rustling noises are coming from the communal kitchen a few doors away. Dex decides that sleep is for the weak and pads down to investigate.

Fitz Vacker is standing in the middle of the kitchen, aggressively stirring a bowl of what looks like cookie dough and frowning. There’s a flour-dusted cookbook on the counter.

“Um.” Dex coughs a little. Fitz looks up from the cookie dough and turns toward him. He's wearing a sweatshirt thrown over a pair of what looks like Walgreens-brand pajamas. Dex is a little surprised that a Vacker would wear something that shitty. 

“Sorry,” he says in his annoyingly perfect accent. “Did I wake you up?”

“Nah, you’re fine. Why are you still awake?”

Fitz shrugs. “Couldn’t fall asleep. You?”

“Same.” Dex moves over and peers into the bowl. “Sugar cookies?”

“They’re a classic Christmas cookie, right?” Fitz looks at him. Dex blinks. “No, really, I’m asking. I don’t celebrate Christmas.”

This startles a laugh out of Dex. “Yeah, they’re a classic. My aunt used to make them all the time in December. I’d come home from school and she’d be, like, chilling on our couch with three different kinds of cookies.” He shakes his head. “I didn’t even realize she was famous until I was eight. She was just Aunt Eda.”

“My mom used to have to do all these photo shoots? With baked goods and shit? And she’d bring me and Bi along because our daycare didn’t go that late so we’d just be hanging out around this camera equipment and doing our best not to break anything.” Fitz looks down and stirs the cookie dough a bit more. “Bi always says we grew up with a camera in our faces, so much that we never learned to be normal. She’s more right than I’d like to think.”

Dex doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have anything to say; he’s always assumed, like so many other people, that the spotlight on the Vackers was effortless and encouraged. Life seemed so easy for them. 

Of course it does, Dex reminds himself. Life always looks easy when you’re the one looking at it. 

“Sorry,” Fitz grabs the bowl and turns away, reaching up into a cabinet for some powdered sugar. “I get… honest when I’m tired.” 

“Yeah, well, I get grumpy, so you’re still better off.” Dex grabs a baking sheet out of where they’re being stored in the oven, since the cookies look about ready to be rolled out. “You’re fine, though. No cameras here.” 

You’re not being judged here, he means. I’d like to get to know you. 

This must translate at least a little, because Fitz gives him a small smile and dumps the dough out onto the counter. 

“Help me? I think the cookie cutters are in the bottom left drawer.”

“Got it.” Dex grabs a tiny metal snowman and cuts out a piece of dough, laying it flat on the metal sheet. He’s reminded suddenly of going through the same motions back home, with Keefe and Amy arguing good-naturedly over his head. 

There’s a different air in the kitchen right now. It’s quieter, slower, dark-dark-chocolatey; something bitter and sweet and smooth all at the same time. 

“Are you worried about the competition?” He asks. Fitz blinks, lifting another three cookies onto the sheet before answering. 

“I don’t think so. I was, before, but once I got here…” he gives an expansive shrug. “It’s just baking. Baking calms me down.” 

“Hence the cookies at one AM,” Dex notes. Fitz laughs. 

“Hence the stress-baking cookies at one AM,” he agrees. “I don’t even think I was stressed about the contest, just-” he waves a hand in the air. “Just stressed in general.” 

“I get that.” Dex presses a few buttons on the oven and tilts his head toward the table a few feet away. They’ll need to wait for the oven to heat up before they put the cookies in. “I was pretty scared of fucking up at first, but, I mean, it’s a baking competition. Everyone’s gonna forget the butter at some point.” 

Fitz squints at him. “I can’t tell if ‘forget the butter’ is an expression I’m unaware of, or if you actually did that and I just didn’t hear about it.” 

“Maruca from Cali did that, actually. I have more style, at least- I forgot the eggs.”

“My friend’s cat got into my kitchen once,” Fitz says seriously. “Not during this contest, but when I was making her daughter’s birthday cake. There was hair everywhere. It was… a cat-astrophe.”

Both of them are silent for almost a full minute, just staring at each other, before Dex breaks down.

“That was terrible,” he wheezes, trying to stop laughing. Fitz grins. 

“I know, I’m embarrassed of myself.”

“You should be.”

The oven beeps and they both startle, turning toward it. Fitz retrieves an oven mitt and slides the cookies into the oven. Dex closes the door and stands back up, suddenly realizing how close they’re standing. 

“You should try to sleep,” Fitz says quietly. “It’s late.”

Dex nods slightly but doesn’t move. There’s a tiny bit of flour on Fitz’s cheekbone. He doesn’t know why he notices it. 

They seem to stand there forever, just looking at each other. Then, suddenly, Fitz turns away and looks over the cookbook again. 

“I should sleep,” Dex says. Fitz nods, face shadowed in the dim lights. Dex turns away and heads back to his room. 

What the fuck was that. 

-/-

December 23, 2020.

Netflix’s Test Kitchen

Chicago, Illinois. 

“Dex Dizznee. Biana Vacker. Maruca Chebota. And Tam Song.” Bronte reads out the names, then looks down at the contestants. “The four of you have won the past events, so you’ll get an extra prize today.”

“As you all know, today is the last event!” Edaline says cheerfully. “All eight of you have made some truly fantastic desserts in the past week, but only one person can win and today’s your final chance to really wow the judges. So, Event Five is…”

Cadence gestures toward the table up front, which holds two candy-covered houses. “Gingerbread houses,” she says. “You have four hours to bake, assemble, and decorate a gingerbread house with your partner.”

“Yep, you’ll be working in pairs for this one,” Edaline says when the murmurs start up. “And our four previous winners get to choose who they’re working with.” She smiles at Biana. “Although, Miss Vacker, I’m afraid you can’t work with your brother.” 

Biana laughs, turning and holding out a hand to Marella Redek instead. “All right. How about it, partner?”

Marella shrugs and takes her hand. Edaline gestures to Dex. 

He glances over the seven remaining contestants. Jensi Babblos seems nice- he probably wouldn’t be too bad to work with. Or maybe he can pair up with another winner and ask Maruca?

Then Fitz catches his eye and Dex remembers the previous day, cutting out cookies in the early-early morning light. It’s not really a choice after that. 

“Fitz,” he decides, and the man strides over to stand next to him. 

The other two pairs find each other, Edaline lays out the final rules, and then she shouts go! and they’re off. 

“Hand me the cinnamon?” Dex asks. Fitz drops it into his hand and Dex dumps a tablespoon in the bowl, starting up the mixer. “Okay, and we should get the icing started so it has time to cool-”

“Already done,” Fitz says. He points to a bowl of fluffy white icing on the counter a foot away. “We should probably-”

“Figure out the decorations, yeah. You wanna-”

“Sketch something?”

They grin at each other and Dex pours the gingerbread batter into a pan. “Perfect,” he says. The oven lets out a tiny beep when he closes it. 

The hours pass quickly, in a blur of candy and icing. They cover the sides of the house in dark red modeling chocolate and drag a toothpick through them for the individual bricks, carefully shape a vanilla wafer chimney, build a candy-cane fence. The actual construction of the house is tricky- Dex has to hold the walls up while Fitz pipes the icing and then keeps holding them until it sets. They get through it with only one roof collapse, though, and the final house looks pretty good. Fitz glues down three peppermints to make a path in front of the door, Dex attaches tiny sugar cookie trees to the ground, and they’re done with two minutes to spare.

“Wait, no. Hang on.” Fitz rummages through the mess they’ve made at their station, skirting a camera and grabbing the half-empty container of powdered sugar. He dumps it into a sieve. 

“Snow,” he and Dex say in unison. Fitz laughs and shakes the sieve over their presentation board, covering the whole thing in a fine layer of powder. 

“Perfect,” Dex says just as the timer goes off. “Let’s win this thing.”

-/-

December 23, 2020.

Netflix’s Test Kitchen

Chicago, Illinois. 

Cameras flash as they zero in on Dex and Fitz’s gingerbread house, presumably taking the shots that will go along with Edaline’s and the winner of Event Five is Fitz Vacker and Dex Dizznee! announcement in the actual show. Biana’s staring at the opposite wall, though; if she looks towards the recording equipment, she doubts she’ll be able to hide how nervous she is. 

The competition doesn’t matter in the long run, but it would be really, really cool to win. 

“Now,” Edaline says after the cameras have returned to their original places. “You’ve all shown amazing talent in the past few days. Frankly, all three of us were just blown away at some of the things you created. But one of you managed to wow us at every turn, showcasing your art as well as your baking skills. And that person is…”

Next to Biana, her brother stares at the ground. A few feet away, Dex is twisting his hands together, expression schooled into something just left of panic. Biana takes a deep breath.

“Maruca Chebota!”

The room is silent, and then everyone breaks into applause. Maruca is smiling wide, tears glittering at the corners of her eyes. 

“Thank you so much,” she manages before getting crushed into a giant group hug. 

Later, Biana stands in the front hall of the hotel with her suitcase by her side. She and Fitz are flying home tonight, and she can’t wait to get back to her own apartment. 

“It’ll be nice,” Sophie agrees. “I’m heading straight out to Michigan to see my aunt and uncle for Christmas.” 

Fitz appears in the doorway, talking animatedly with someone out of sight. Biana takes the opportunity to give Sophie one last kiss. 

“I’ll text you?” She asks. Sophie nods. 

Fitz strolls up, Dex by his side. They’ve finished their conversation, apparently, and are now just looking at each other. Biana coughs.

“We should get to the airport.” She reminds him. Fitz jumps.

“Right! Yes, of course. Um-” he glances back at Dex and then sweeps the shorter man into a hug. Dex’s eyes widen but he hugs back. 

“It was so nice to meet you,” Biana tells Dex when the two break apart. “Have a nice Christmas.” 

“You too,” Dex says, and then he and Sophie are gone. Biana elbows her brother. 

“Dexter Dizznee, huh?” She asks. Fitz glares at her. 

“Shut up.”

-/-

December 28, 2020.

Dizznee Family Household 

Detroit, Michigan.

Christmas is low-key. Or, it’s as low-key as Christmas with the Dizznees can be, anyway. Bex manages to get lights on the roof, Rex brings his partners to dinner and the three of them break into an impromptu performance of Deck The Halls, and Lex sets up an elaborate present-wrapping station in the living room that seems to involve heinous amounts of tape. 

Edaline disappears upstairs a few times to work out all the details of the show, but she has enough time to help Kesler baste a turkey and kick all of their collective asses at foosball alongside Juline. Grady makes chocolate-covered cherries and Amy eats too many of them and Sophie laughs herself to tears when her sister trips over an armchair in her post-chocolate haze. They smile and exchange terrible presents and sing carols and it’s all normal, as normal as anything gets these days.

So maybe they’re not low-key. Maybe it’s just Dex who’s low, Dex who still feels like something’s missing. 

He lost the competition. He’s not mad about it; losing by a few stray points isn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. And the publicity he’ll gain from just being on television is definitely worth it. 

None of that explains his mood, though, and Dex is starting to wonder what on earth he isn’t seeing. 

“Hey,” Sophie says, wandering into the den and flopping down on the couch alongside him. Dex has been absentmindedly fiddling with a Rubik's cube for the past ten minutes, and he only now realizes it’s solved. “What’s up?” 

“Hmm?”

“You’ve been mopey all day,” she says. “All week, actually. Which is weird, because you’re not normally mopey.” 

“You- noticed?”

Sophie gives him an affronted look. “I do pay attention.” 

“I’m not mopey,” Dex protests. 

“So staring into the distance and frowning is just a hobby?” Sophie sighs, plucking the Rubik’s cube out of his hands and scooting closer. “Look, I’m not trying to shame you. I just want to know what’s going on.”

Dex stares at her, then glances down at his hands. “I… who do you keep texting?”

The question catches Sophie off guard. “What?”

“You’ve been glancing down at your phone and smiling all through vacation,” he says. “Who are you texting?”

Sophie’s cheeks flush pink. “Um. Biana?”

“Oh.” Right. Biana Vacker. Dex had almost forgotten about her, in all the chaos of the last day of competition and then heading back home. Sophie didn’t, apparently. “That’s great. I’m happy for you.”

“You sound like a greeting card.”

“Fuck you, I’m trying.” 

Sophie rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “Thanks, though. I really like her.” She tilts her head. “Now, back to your moping.”

“No.”

“Hmm.” Sophie says. She fixes him with a look that says I can see into your soul and there is some weird stuff in there. “Dex. What happened when you teamed up with Fitz Vacker in the last round of the contest?”

“Um.” Dex blinks. “We… made a gingerbread house?”

“And after that?” Sophie raises an eyebrow. “Dex, I know you. You’ve hated the Vackers possibly since you were born. How on Earth did you go from that to hugging Fitz when you said goodbye to him?”

“I-” 

There have been a lot of things recently, Dex reflects, that he’s been unable to explain, even to himself. Why he disliked the Vackers in the first place. Why he’s been empty the past few days. 

Why he and Fitz are sort of on decent terms now.

But things start to dig themselves out of his memory; an out-of-the-blue compliment about his pies, a night spent in a terrible hotel kitchen unable to sleep, a grin and a tiny peppermint swirl and fake sugar snow on a rooftop.

“Oh.” Dex’s eyes go wide. “Oh, shit.” 

“What?” Sophie asks. As if on cue, three strawberry-blond heads poke into the doorway. Dex groans. 

“Do you hear that?” Rex asks, shit-eating grin on his face. Lex nods seriously. 

“I believe it’s the sound of a local man realizing he’s been in love with Fitzroy Vacker this whole time.” 

Bex gestures towards Dex as if she’s holding a microphone. “Tell me, sir, how does it feel to come to such a conclusion? Do you think your behavior towards Mr. Vacker will change after this?”

“Please leave,” Dex says flatly. Sophie squints at him. 

“Wait, are you really-”

“I don’t know. Please make them leave.” 

Sophie looks from him to the triplets, who give her matching smiles. She shakes her head and stands up. 

“I don’t think I’m capable of doing that, honestly. I’m going to go text Bi.”

“Traitor!” Dex calls after her. The triplets flop down on the couch, garishly patterned Christmas sweaters clashing terribly with the blue cushions. Bex gives him an exaggerated I’m thinking look. 

“Hmm,” she says. “You know, maybe Amy was onto something with all her ‘enemies to lovers speedrun’ stuff.” 

“I’m leaving this family,” Dex mutters, shoving a pillow over his face. “I will go to Canada and buy a large house and never have to see any of you ever again.” 

Rex raises his eyebrows. “Wow, you’d leave your boyfriend behind like that?” 

“Nope! No, nope, not doing this.” Dex stands up and moves towards the door. Behind him, he hears at least one of his siblings fall off the couch. 

“Seriously, though. What are you going to do?”

Dex turns back around. Rex and Bex are sprawled on the floor in a tangle of feet, but Lex is looking at Dex with a strangely sympathetic expression. He sighs.

“I don’t know.”

There’s a buzz in his pocket and Dex pulls his phone out as his siblings start to untangle themselves.

Fos-Boss

hey. wanna go to nyc?

-/-

December 31, 2020.

Biana Vacker’s Self-Proclaimed Trash Can Fire

New York City, New York.

“You’re doing it again.”

Fitz leans his head over the back of the couch and frowns at her. “Doing what?”

“Your whole woe is me, time to stare aimlessly at the wall thing.” Biana waves a hand towards her brother. “Stop that and help me cut the baklava.”

“This is… a lot of baklava for just the two of us,” Fitz says. “Are you sure you didn’t decide to throw another giant stupid New Years party again?”

“I promise there will be no giant New Years party,” Biana says. “I’ve invited two people over. That’s it.”

“But you refuse to tell me who those people are, which automatically makes me suspicious.” 

As if on cue, the doorbell rings. Biana smiles at her brother and takes the knife from him. 

“Why don’t you go find out?”

Fitz sighs and moves out into the hallway. Biana hears him swing the door open, and then- nothing. 

She pushes the now-cut baklava onto a plate and leans her head out the doorway. Her brother is standing there, staring at a man with strawberry-blond hair. Sophie stands behind him, smiling awkwardly.

“Hello!” She says, directing the statement at Biana since her cousin is still locked in a staring contest with Fitz. “Happy New Year!”

“It’s not New Years yet,” Biana laughs, coming out of the doorway to grab Sophie’s coat and drop a quick kiss to her lips. “How was your drive?”

“Long,” Sophie says. “But I’ve had worse. And we had some decent pancakes, right?” 

“Right,” Dex murmurs, still staring at Fitz. He shakes his head. “Yeah, they were pretty good. Happy New Year, by the way.” 

“You too,” Fitz manages. Biana hides a laugh behind her sweater sleeve and grabs Dex’s arm. 

“Hey, you wanna come help me open the champagne?” 

“Sure, but-”

“We’ll be fine,” Fitz manages a bright grin. “I’m gonna show Sophie some of Bi’s elementary school pictures.”

“Fitzroy Avery Vacker, don’t you dare-”

Fitz laughs and Biana and Dex retreat back to the kitchen. Biana reaches for one of the bottles of champagne and turns towards the shorter man. 

“I’m not going to give you a shovel talk,” she shrugs, “mainly because I think you already know I could murder you if you hurt him.”

“Yep,” Dex nods. He looks down. “But you don’t have to worry about giving me a shovel talk. It’s not like we’re dating.” 

“No, you two have just been in love with each other for a ridiculously long amount of time.” The cork pops out of the champagne bottle and Sophie cheers from the other room. Biana grins at the stunned expression Dex is giving her. “Come on. Only an hour till midnight.”

They put the Times Square Ball Drop on at 11:30, watching as some band Biana vaguely recognizes but couldn’t name rocks out in front of the crowd. Sophie says that looks cold, and Biana says it’s always cold. That’s why I stay home, and Sophie snuggles a little closer to her. At the ten-minute mark, Dex and Fitz make some sort of telepathic agreement to go out and stand on the balcony. 

“Hey,” Biana mutters as the lights onscreen get brighter. The countdown should start soon. “I’m so glad I met you.”

Sophie turns her face, so close their noses almost brush. “Me too,” she smiles. “But I’m even happier I get to do this.”

A hurricane could probably pass through the apartment right now without Biana noticing. Sophie's lips are soft, and Biana knows this woman will stick with her no matter what. 

Numbers start to flash on the screen. Biana couldn’t care less about what they say. 

-/-

December 31, 2020.

Fitz Vacker’s Plant-Covered Balcony

New York City, New York.

“The apartment’s Biana’s, technically,” Fitz says as they step out into the cold night air. “But she never uses the balcony and I needed a place to put my plants, so it’s mine now.”

“And you’re certainly using the space,” Dex notes. He can spot at least five different kinds of flowers out here, and that’s just with his non-existent plant knowledge. 

Fitz laughs, loud and bright against the painted backdrop of the sky. There are only a few stars Dex can see, but the whole sky is a shade of midnight blue that makes up for the darkness. 

“I am, yeah.” He leans on the railing for a moment, staring down at the world below, before turning back a bit. “How was your Christmas?”

“Good,” Dex says. “How was your… Hanukkah?”

“It ended before the contest started, but yeah, it was good” Fitz glances down at the street again and Dex goes to stand next to him. Minutes tick by, the two of them just watching cars pass by.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Fitz says finally. The words are soft, barely more than whispers, and Dex thinks for a moment that he imagined them. Then Fitz looks up and meets his eyes. 

A cheer goes up from around the city, people everywhere shouting Ten! 

“I’m glad too,” Dex says. Carefully, oh-so-slowly, he reaches up and cups the other man’s cheek. Fitz’s eyes flutter closed for just a moment. 

Seven!

“The ball will drop soon,” he murmurs. “If you want to watch it.”

“I’m fine,” Dex smiles. “Unless- you want to?”

Five!

“Nah,” Fitz says, reaching up to touch Dex’s hand where it’s still on his face. “I think I can do without the spectacle for tonight.”

Three!

Dex nods, rocking forward just a little. 

Two!

Fitz’s eyes are bright, and his breath is warm where it ghosts across Dex’s skin. 

One!

They barely have to move in before their lips meet. 

-/-

January 1, 2021.

Somewhere Over New York City. 

Fireworks bloom into bursts of color against the dark sky. 

#lynn rambles #my writing #kotlc #detz #sophiana #fitz vacker #biana vacker #sophie foster #dex dizznee #edaline ruewen

[usemeasabadexample]

Bechloe Fic: The Kraken Has Been Unleashed

Summary: Chloe has a way with her. That’s for sure. And, as uncomfortable as it might make her to think about it in this very moment, Beca’s starting to wonder just what that really means.

Set at the beginning of Pitch Perfect 2. Kind of canon, kind of...not canon. Mostly fluff and fun and maybe some very mild angst at best. Nothing too stressful. We’ve been through enough of that!

Read on AO3

Chapter 10

Beca's alarm wakes her up way too early the next morning.

Usually, she'd snooze the clock ten times, roll out of bed and barely have time to brush her teeth before running to class. This morning is different though. It's the first day of her internship and she wants to be prepared.  Wants to look professional. And she's pretty sure professional doesn't include a messy bun with sweatpants and one of Chloe's Barden t-shirts.

So she gets up early. Showers and puts on something nice before grabbing a bowl of cereal.

“You look hot this morning DJ. What's up?” Stacie ambles into the kitchen and gestures to Beca's outfit while opening up the refrigerator.

Beca looks up from her breakfast. “Hey Stace.” She swallows the bite she just shoved into her mouth. “Nothing. Just...won't have time to change before the party later.” The stool screeches across the floor as she stands and drops her bowl into the sink. “See you tonight.” She grabs her things and rushes out before Stacie can ask anymore questions. Stacie can sniff out a lie from a mile away so the last thing she needs to do is play a game of 20 questions with the house genius.

“Can’t wait!” Stacie calls out as Beca hustles out of the door to get to her first class on time, excited for what the day holds.

-----

Jesse’s car is rounding the corner as Beca walks away from her last class so she picks up speed. She doesn’t trust him. He has a knack for embarrassing her in public places. Not maliciously. Just...dorky.  

“Hey superstar!” Jesse shouts out of the car window as he screeches to a halt. He leans over the center console to sling the passenger door open for Beca. “Damn! Work it Bec!”

Beca practically sprints the rest of the way to the car. “Oh my god.” She jumps in and slams the door, frantically trying to roll up the window. “Please shut up.”

Jesse laughs. “Is that any way to talk to your chauffeur for the day?”

“Keep it up and it’ll only get worse.” Beca side eyes him and adjusts the radio.

Jesse always plays late fifties pop songs and while Beca appreciates all types of music, she can't sit there and listen to it for extended periods. Although it does give her ideas for new mixes. Chloe always loves it when she mashes up old school songs with new stuff. Her thoughts stay trained on her best friend and she wonders what Chloe is up to. Between the rush of getting ready and trying not to freak out, there just wasn't time to see her this morning.

That's her excuse anyway.

If she's being honest, avoidance tactics may have been at work. She feels like absolute shit for keeping the internship from the redhead but she doesn't know how to broach the subject. Under normal circumstances, she knows she would be excited to tell Chloe. But there's a lot at stake for the Bellas right now and she doesn't want to add anything else to the older woman's plate. She wants Chloe to know that she's there and she's present and she's going to fight for them because letting Chloe down would be the worst feeling in the world.

Jesse's small talk forces her to dismiss the thought. They talk about classes and auditions and their last hood night party the Trebles are hosting later tonight and before she knows it, they’re pulling up to the Residual Heat Recording Studio.  

Her nerves bubble up again.

She's excited and hopeful but she still has the weight of guilt lingering in the back of her mind. Jesse reassures her that everything will be okay. He reminds her that she's worked hard for this opportunity and she deserves this shot.

She gives him a quick kiss before running away while he continues to holler out more embarrassing comments. He's definitely a nerd but he knows her well. His goofy antics have calmed her down considerably and she takes a moment to appreciate his charm before charging ahead.

-----

The afternoon is a blur.

She fucks up her name tag picture, makes a shit ton of coffee and hands out a lot of snacks. She's nobody important here but that's not the point. There's a lot to be learned. A lot to be gained. This is her shot. It's her first step into the world of music production and she's looking forward to paying her dues.

In a bizarre series of events, her boss unexpectedly storms into the office and announces they'll be producing a new Christmas album for Snoop Dogg. The Snoop Dogg. It's crazy but she stifles her excitement. She doesn't want to be labeled as some psycho newbie on her first day but relaxing isn't easy. Between draining her brain for a quick idea on how to make Snoop's new album original and the exchanges happening between this Dax kid and her boss, she’s struggling to control her reactions. Her facial expressions always give her away and the one she's wearing right now screams absolute confusion because Dax is now high-kneeing around the room and this is all really fucking weird.

Thankfully, her phone buzzes and it gives her a reason to look away from the train wreck happening in front of her. She has four messages, none of which she noticed earlier. They’re from Jesse, Amy, and Chloe respectively.

She opens Jesse's message first. It's some idiotic, cheesy 'hope everything is going well’ message and she replies by calling him a dork. It seems like her go-to word when referring to him.

She hesitates before opening Amy's messages because she never knows what the blonde is going to say. It's almost always inappropriate and usually impossible to understand, but she opens it anyway.

Shorty! Where is our toothbrush?!

Yep.

What the fuck does Amy mean by our toothbrush? Beca refuses to believe the obvious. That Amy is implying (more like directly stating) that they use the same toothbrush. That just cannot be right. And even if it is, why would it be missing?

She makes a mental note to buy a new one immediately.

Maybe two.

The second message is almost just as cringeworthy.

Your acawife was asking where you were! You're gonna be in the dingo house tonight!

The urge to roll her eyes is too strong to avoid so she rolls them around before deciding she will not be messaging Amy back. She clicks Chloe's message instead. It's the most recent one.

Trip to Copenhagen is all booked! AHH! :-P

Beca chuckles to herself. She can hear Chloe's voice singing the message in her head. It's cute but it also makes her feel bad because they haven't even discussed the issue of Worlds and Beca promised she would be there for Chloe.  Yet, here she is. At an internship that she still hasn't told Chloe about while the redhead sits at home and plans alone all afternoon. She knows she's going to have to address all of this at some point but how? This isn't really her area of expertise.

Another message comes through.

It's Chloe again.

You okay? Haven't heard from you today! :-(

Ouch.

Beca wonders why she acts like such a dick sometimes. There doesn’t seem to be any logical excuse. Especially when it comes to Chloe. She's the last person on Earth Beca wants to disappoint but it seems like it's destined to happen.

She takes a deep breath and types out a reply.

Sorry Chlo! Busy day. I'll see you at the Trebles’ later!

It's vague and lame but she can't tell the truth and she doesn’t want to outright lie to Chloe so she hits send and shoves her phone back into her pocket as her boss storms back into the room. She straightens in her seat and tries to blend in for the rest of the day.

-----

Beca exits the studio, overwhelmed and stressed, and throws her bag into the back seat of a cab before jumping in and giving the driver directions to the Bellas’ house.

She leans back and takes a deep breath that vibrates her through her lips on the way out. She knew this business would be cut-throat but wow . Today proved how messed up the music industry really is. The people are self-serving and the pace is incredibly fast and it feels like the multi-tasking skills needed to get through each minute are nearly impossible to master.

She’ll get through it though. She has to. This is her shot to get out there and start making a name for herself. This is her dream.

Plus, she’s glad to have the first day out of the way. It can only get easier from here.

Hopefully.

Possibly.

Who knows.

She shakes it off and pulls her phone out of her pocket. She hasn’t had a chance to check it since she messaged Chloe back earlier. Sure enough, there are a few new messages from her best friend. Chloe has no qualms about sending Beca multiple texts in a row. Even when Beca doesn’t answer right away, Chloe will continue babbling without worrying about whether or not she's being annoying.

If it were anyone else, Beca would probably send a string of expletives and permanently block their number. But, like everything else, Chloe is the exception. She smiles and opens their text thread.

Okay! Can't wait! XO

I hope they have the green punch!

Please bust out the cell phone dance move! I love it!!! ;-)

So, a Legacy showed up to our door tonight to audition and we accepted! She's totes amazing and you're going to love her!

I don't think we are breaking the rules bc she came to us! Loophole! :-D

BTW, Legacy means that her mom was a Bella. Her mom is THE Katherine Junk! Omg!

Beca chuckles at the enthusiasm in the messages and pictures Chloe grinning excitedly as she wrote them. A wave of anticipation hits her and she’s overwhelmed with the sudden need to get home as quickly as possible. She tells herself that she’s just anxious to get home after a long day but she knows that's a lie. Before reading those texts, she was tired. Even considered not showing up to the party but there’s a new energy flowing through her and she wills the cab driver to hurry the fuck up already.

When she finally makes it home, she throws her bag down, uses the bathroom, and races through the bushes to the Trebles’ house.

-----

Beca approaches the party, surprised at how out of control things seem already. It's still pretty early but the acapella crowd clearly came to party tonight. She wonders what type of trouble the Bellas are getting into and smiles thinking about all of their past Hood Nights. They've had some wild ones and she's sure this last one will be no different. Especially if Chloe has anything to do with it.

Chloe has a way of making Hood Nights, and most parties in general, more fun than they probably should be. Some of them, in particular, stand out for reasons that Beca isn’t prepared to think about right now. Mainly because they involve Chloe getting way too handsy.

But she already said she’s not thinking about that and scans the crowd for red hair instead.

Oddly enough, she can’t quickly spot her best friend but she spies Jesse sitting up on the deck. And because the night has her feeling light and giddy, she creeps up behind him and grabs him by the shoulders before giving him a quick peck on the lips.

His drink almost slips out of his hands and Beca mutters a quick “oh shit” before dropping down next to him. She takes a deep breath, ready to de-stress after such a crazy day, but Jesse starts asking about the internship and about Chloe and damnit.

“Oh, she’s just..she’s like, locked into the World’s right now and I’m looking for the right time. It’s-- I’ll tell her.” Beca tries to shrug it off like it’s no big deal but it dampens her mood and she excuses herself to grab a drink at the tiki hut. Why did Jesse have to bring up Chloe and the internship in the same sentence? Beca already feels like the absolute worst person in the world and the thought of Chloe having to ask Jesse for her whereabouts just makes it even worse.

This sucks.

Beca takes a huge gulp of whatever concoction is being served tonight and notes that it’s not the green punch that Chloe was hoping for but she can't dwell on it because she notices there’s a really tall girl just standing there staring at her. The girl's arms are stretched out towards Beca and she has no idea what’s about to happen.

“Hi!”

“Hi…” Beca responds hesitantly, still completely unsure.

The taller woman rambles something about being sisters and then it clicks for Beca. She realizes this is the girl- correction- the Legacy, that’s been added to their team.

“Oh yeah! Hi. Chloe texted me that we added a Legacy. I...didn't even know that was a thing.” She lifts her shoulders and gestures with her hands as she speaks. It feels odd.

The girl giggles and keeps staring at Beca so Beca just chuckles uncomfortably and takes another sip.

Then another.

And they're both just sort of standing there awkwardly.

Beca gives a tense smile and widens her eyes, which finally seems to break the other girl’s manic look.

She slaps her hands to her forehead way too hard. “Ouch! Oh my god. I’m sorry! I'm Emily. By the way. Sorry. I forgot that you didn’t know my name yet and I think the others have already started calling me Legacy so it’s totally okay if you want to call me that too I just figured you should know my real name because I totally-”

Beca reaches out and briefly touches Emily’s arm to stop her rambling. “Emily.” She pulls her hand away. “Nice to meet you.”

Emily beams and Beca really wants to get as far away from this interaction as possible.  

“We can get to know each other better later. Right now…” Beca uses her head to gesture across the yard where she can see a few of the Bellas bouncing up and down. “Let’s go catch up with everyone else.”

“Oh!” Emily nods rapidly and Beca thinks she looks like a battery operated bobble-head. “Yeah, definitely! Let’s go!”

Beca nods once before taking a shot and refilling her cup as Emily follows her into the crowd.

-----

“Beca!” Amy is the first person she encounters.

Of course.

She is immediately picked up and twirled around by the blonde. “Where have you been? Oh my god! Have you gotten taller? No! That’s not possible!”

“Amy!” Beca kicks her legs and starts to protest the manhandling but she sees a flash of red hair as she’s being spun around and the words die on her lips.

She starts laughing because jesus christ. It’s been a long day and it feels like she’s been waiting to see that red hair for way too long now. She presses on Amy’s shoulders and frantically wrestles herself out of the tight grip, almost toppling them both over in the process. Amy strings together a few choice expletives and she can hear Stacie muttering something inappropriate but it doesn't stop her.

She bounces right up to her best friend with a smile so wide she thinks her head might explode. “Chlo!”

Chloe’s head whips around and when her eyes land on Beca, her face actually does explode into a display of pure joy. She reaches out and grabs Beca, hooking her arm firmly around the shorter woman’s shoulders to drag her in close.

Chloe's laugh echoes in Beca’s ear and Beca can’t stop her smile from growing impossibly wider as she wraps her arms around the redhead’s waist as best as she can and squeezes back. The scent of fresh laundry and liquor invades her senses and it’s all a little overwhelming but it feels good and she can't help but sink further into it. She lets her body sway back and forth with Chloe's as she breathes her in. Exhilaration and borderline manic happiness taking over in the moment.

“Beca!” Chloe pulls back but keeps her arm firmly around Beca’s shoulder. “Where did you come from!? Where have you been!?” Chloe’s mouth is wide open and the way her eyes are bubbling with excitement reminds Beca of a shaken soda bottle. The look is scary powerful and Beca can’t find it in herself to formulate a response so she just laughs like crazy and brings her cup up from around Chloe's waist to clink it to redhead’s before taking another sip.

Chloe’s eyes stay trained on her as she downs the drink and it makes Beca feel like a shot of Red Bull has been directly injected into her veins. It travels through her entire body with lightning speed and everything inside of her buzzes to life.  She crushes the cup in her hand as she continues to drink, eventually cracking it. Remnants of the liquid leak down her arm but she keeps chugging. The atmosphere and the energy of the party has her head spinning and she just wants to let loose. Have fun.

She’s buying time too. Chloe’s presence is taking her to another level of excitement and she doesn’t know how to quite contain it at the moment. It feels like the cup is the only thing anchoring her to sanity at the moment.  

“Beca!” Chloe swats the crushed cup straight out of Beca’s hand, the last few drops splashing out when it hits the ground and Beca’s eyes widen but she doesn’t move. Her arm stays frozen in the air, invisible cup still in hand. Mouth still open.

And Chloe smiles.

It’s that mischievous, self-satisfied smile. The same one she used after their shower duet so many years ago.

Beca won't forget that look.  It makes her shiver but she smiles back, hand coming back down to squeeze Chloe around the middle again. "You're going to get into trouble tonight." Beca tuts, pretending to be put-off, "I can feel it."

Chloe nods enthusiastically, apparently thrilled by the notion, and moves both hands to Beca's shoulders. It brings the two of them face-to-face and she leans in to speak directly into Beca’s ear. "And you are already in trouble for getting here so late."

Beca’s chest tightens as Chloe pulls back to lock eyes but she keeps herself together. "Is that right?"

"Mhmm." Chloe is still nodding, all breezy happiness and cool confidence.  

"Well," Beca shrugs, doing her best to appear nonchalant, "what are you gonna do about it?"

Chloe drapes her arms further around Beca’s shoulders, big blinking eyes boring into Beca, “I’m going to dance with you."

Beca’s hands involuntarily squeeze the redhead tighter, fingers eventually pressing into Chloe hard enough that she’s afraid she might leave a mark. She panics momentarily, not wanting to hurt her best friend, but then Chloe’s laugh cuts through the party noise and the redhead is dragging her through a crowd of people back towards familiar faces that instantly start shouting when they see the duo approaching.

“Beca!”

“Chloe!”

“Bloe!”

“What’s up bitches?!”

“Where were you guys!?”

Beca dodges Amy’s swinging arms as Chloe continues to pull her into the circle of Bellas but all of her ducking and dodging distracts her right into Stacie’s waiting hands.

“DJ!” Stacie shouts, squishing Beca’s cheeks and before Beca can react, Stacie starts moving in with puckered lips. There’s nothing Beca can do because one of her hands is still wrapped up in Chloe’s and the other is no match for Stacie’s strength so she braces for the onslaught coming her way, eyes shut and lips sucked in.

But it never comes.

Instead of sloppy Stacie kisses, Beca feels herself being pulled out of the taller woman’s grasp. She sees a flash of red and green and her favorite smile and she lets herself collide with the person reining her in. Hands squish her cheeks again but this time, she doesn’t even consider trying to fight them off. Instead, she wraps her arms around Chloe and returns the smile, letting everything around her disappear because Chloe leans in and peppers her face with kisses that match the beat of the song and the thump of her heart.

It makes Beca feel giddy.

Goofy.

Like she’s already had too much to drink but she knows that can’t be.

And really, in the moment, Beca honestly doesn't care what the reason is.

What the feeling is.

All she knows is that Chloe is here and everything feels perfect so she grabs on tighter and pulls Chloe in closer. Squeezing and laughing like a crazy person.

"You're insane! You know that, right?!" She's borderline shouting to be heard over the music.

Chloe pulls back just long enough to look directly at Beca. Eyes dancing and hands squeezing Beca's shoulders tightly. She mutters a quick, "mhmm" and leans in again, bright blue eyes crossing briefly as they come nose-to-nose.

It makes Beca chuckle.

"I know." Chloe mumbles the words and kisses the tip of Beca's nose.

Beca takes a deep breath and lets the tingling feeling take over as the beat drops and she falls into step with Chloe.

#bechloe #bechloe fanfic #bechloe fanfiction #pitch perfect fanfiction #pitch perfect fanfic #becha mitchell #chloe beale

[thepausedsforzando]

III. The Paused Sforzando

Part I. The End To The Remaining Effort

*******Introduction*******

   It’s been 5 years. 5 years and a month just about. This post looks weird in public because it’s first one. It’s also marked as III. On October 8th, 2019 I nuked my entire Tumblr. Actually, I nuked all 3: hunkee, digitalclothingofhunkee and thepsychologyofdarthvader. That was a heavy day. This series has been shotty and inconsistent, in that gaps have become bigger and the details have lessened. This could likely be due to the feedback and problems I’ve had with people in my posts when I would talk about personal things that were not only private for me but for them. Primarily, these inconsistencies and gaps are because I’ve slowly descended into more of a void of a human being than I ever thought I could be when my life was right. January 6th, 2016. That’s where we last left off. “We” now means, and has always meant, current Matthew, as well as the one who will be reading this. If any Where are we now? Corny, I know, but you wanted to type it.

   I have always dreamed of having a Tumblr where I had literally 0 holdbacks. If it was disturbing or could easily be misunderstood, I’d post it anyway. But coming from a Christian background where the Christian homeschool choirs I was in had its dark pockets of judgement, it, or more than just it, made me severely self-conscious. But that is tied deeper to why I care about what others think, and how their attention makes or breaks me as a human being. But I’m getting head of myself. On purpose.

   hunkee, and it’s other 2 sisters were that of restriction. No more. So many have lost touched, forgotten and abandoned me, so who fucking cares now. I may still care. I’m showing it right now, but I’ll contradict that.

   One thing I will hold back on is the private information of loved ones who never got a voice to choose whether or not to have their private lives posted here. I am transparent and honest to an extreme, and it’s gotten me in trouble more than I ever thought or wanted to. Therefore, what you will be seeing is the second draft, edited to filter out private events out of love and/or respect to those who didn’t get a voice. They will be edited with summaries and I may even redact names or change said names. Those people deserve it. And I should have known back then. But you can’t know everything. I could have learned faster, but respect is being shown nonetheless.

   Alot has happened from January 6th, 2016 to February 5th, 2021. What I choose to be here will be here, and other installments will follow. Where we last left off was- well before I say it, let me show you the progression:

- 2009: The end of my childhood and innocence - 2010: a solid year of happiness in the first chapter of adulthood - 2011: not bad - 2012: The beginning of the dark renaissance; the start of it all - 2013: The Darkness: The darkest point, the breakdown, the intervention and the beginning of me stopping any care and any effort. Laziness became my life. - 2014: The Void: Through trying with little effort, the numbness grew - 2015: I literally forgot most of 2015. The Void at its highest - 2016: The End: The year that I gave up, after 5 years of trying through abandonment. - 2017: Committing to my abandonment. - 2018: Rebirth: The slow growth of the tiniest voice within me. - 2019: Pause #1: Amber - 2020: ugh: - 2021: ugh:

Let’s just begin.

             **************

   As per usual, let’s recap from the 16th. My name is Matthew. I’m 24 and a half years old. I work at Patsco Windshield Repair and had for about a month. I have been living back at my parents now for 2 years and about 4 months. I’d been single for 1 year and 2 months. I still had my Roth IRA and likely got rid of my savings account due to poor management of my money. I had suppressed my love for Amber again, and it wouldn’t be the last time. I was emotionally void after raging and depressing for years. My life had no meaning, nor did I really have many friends or any social interactions. I had a car. I can’t remember what bills I dealt with, but it was likely phone, insurance, health insurance and idk.

   Life at Patsco was pretty lame. I would drive to the corner of a parking lot on a busy road, hold up a sign for a while and repair people’s windshields. Calling insurance companies and cleaning headlights. Great for a high schooler; pathetic that I was there in life at 24. The pay was $12/hr. I forgot if the hours were good. But the best thing that happened then was I read Dante Alighieri’s Inferno. I fell in love with that book. Standing on the grass next to cars at the red light of whatever intersection I was assigned that day. Immersed in the world and loving the darkness. I found beauty in dark things and gravitated towards hateful content. Who would have figured.

   Patsco didn’t last very long. Maybe I got fired, I think I did. My memory has deteriorated so much over the past x amount of years. As has my attention span. And effort. Anyway, it usually takes me 1-3 months to find work, and on April whenever, I became a delivery driver for Jimmy John’s. Yet again, a low end, dead end job. I lasted just about 2 years. I asked Asia to let me stay long enough to make it an even two years, but she couldn’t stand me and it didn’t go that long.

   Amber had either come back or was always there. For private reasons, someone in her life had jealously forbade me to come over and witness the birth of her first child. That didn't fucking happen with her second. I was there. More on that later.

   Remembering 2015, 2016 and 2017 is hard. I'm having to pull up my resume, previous entries of this series and go back to where I was then. By the time Jimmy John’s rolled around, I’d been back home for over 2 and a half years. Being numb and unmotivated, I was also an asshole to live with. I treated my mother horribly. There is much to get into about what I have learned about her over the years and why we clash, but I always handled it wrong and I still do. Too lazy to confront her. She saw me at my worst. Whatever I could do out loud, she mostly saw and had to be the victim of it. She didn’t deserve it.

   What I write about tends to focus on home, mom and dad, work, cars and not much else. I’ve neglected to mention Eva but once. I feel bad that in a forgetful and numb phase, I forgot when I met Eva. I met her on MeetMe, a social app for meeting people that too many guys used as a dating site. It was really, really pathetic. But I was open to meeting a significant other too I bet. There goes the hypocrisy. Take note. I just didn’t advertise it and let whatever unfolded, unfold.  Before I mention Eva, what happened on MeetMe is notable. I just didn’t advertise it and I'd let whatever unfolded unfold. This is where I was at: I met someone who lived across the road from me named Evie. I put what I wanted onto her and god fucking dammit I was creepy. We were barely just talking and I was gushing over her. She was pretty and I wanted to be with someone.

   My obsession with women had always been a tame problem that sprouted when it got to be intense. In 2011, when the neglect started, my creepiness, lack of social interactions and desire to have a girlfriend got weirder. Every girl that was remotely attractive, or not even that attractive was ‘so right for me’ and I’d pursue. Ashley, Andrea, Christa, Amy. I can’t even remember them all. It was every. fucking. woman. that came to Josh's and I's house. Someone I hadn’t been vibing with or talking to in the first place. That’s the key, you get to know someone and if they move that way WITH you, then it’s something. I always bash guys for pursuing if THEY want it, whether they’ve talked to them much or not. In my own way, I did that. I just didn’t assert myself as hard because in this context, it would have been awkward.

   Evie casually told me where she worked. We were barely acquaintances and had never met or even had each others’ numbers. And when I saw she was getting off work one night, I bought her the candy she said she loved and walked over to her in front of the store at night, basically a total stranger, and gave her the Reese’s after clarifying who I was. She was extremely quiet. I bet she didn’t eat those candies because she thought the psycho who I guess you could say stalked her poisoned them and is going to kidnap her. Fuck me that was stupid. But that’s where I was at. My desire got stronger and more obsessive over these 4 years. This might have happened in 2015. Either way, I was doing things that were not Matthew. Using a woman for sex, stalking one, and Naomi....Poor Naomi.

   We were talking as friends. She was beautiful. I wanted someone. She did NOT want to find a significant other. When she was reaching out for someone to talk to, it was a friend to confide in. And she made that clear. I lowkey pursued her romantically. We’d meet down the street of her house and park in a parking lot close by. We’d talk deeply, about her hard life. And I would be there for her. Once I told her my intentions, we stopped talking. She was upset, and had every right to be. When I was pursuing Amber 3 years prior, I was putting her newborn to sleep and said ‘can you say “daddy?”’...............................it’s hard for me to bring that up because as wrong as it was and I probably knew at the time, now I can’t....I can’t even explain the awkwardness and shame I feel for saying that. Like I devolved from already clingy/kinda obsessive/maybe on occasion creepy to.....that. To a newborn whose mother....I can’t remember if she liked me at that time. I think she did. ReGARDLESS.

   The last time I wasn’t like this was Ana. in late 2011/early2012. I was never perfect as I’ve said like 3 times with regards to my intense emotions towards girlfriends. Hell, I wasn’t bad at all to Nicole. But this loneliness, that was a combination of my fault and other things that made me do things I regret. I had my first one night stand years ago. Attaining friends was through the screen of my phone. I couldn’t make friends. I lost my ability to be social. I became more socially awkward. Pursuing women wasn’t successful, and my desire had gone out of control.

   Here I am, miles away from the original point: Eva. She was a female and I was looking for a relationship. Desiring love, affection and to get fucking laid. It came in the form of many creepy endeavors. I wasn’t as terrible with Eva. I liked her because I liked every female that came in contact with me. So it wasn’t even genuine when I told her. But we got past that. Wasn’t trying to get in her pants or anything heinous. But as that small phase passed, for the first time in years, I gained a friend. I made a new friend........it’s not that it’s hard, but was for me. I can’t think of the last time I made a new friend. But I hit the jackpot. No one is more loyal than Eva.

   She was an actual friend. She listened to me. I listened to her. We cared for each other. She invited me to her house and to outings with her friends. She cared about me. Someone finally did. It was nothing to her. Like it should be nothing to anyone else: you have friends and you spend time with them. But it was the universe and all its stars to me. I made a big deal out of it for reasons you already know. She was the true friend I needed, but got so late. I felt included, I felt cared about and I felt wanted. I think she’d even text me first! That doesn’t exist anymore! She became a bright spot, but it didn’t change what was coming.

   I got mad at Jimmy John’s. Aggressive driving, maybe dealing with the occasional dick ‘cause I was in an upper middle class (some would say rich) area of town. Having been void for so long, I felt I was at a dead end. I think I was friends with Eva by then. I had only been at Jimmy John’s for a month, not even. 2 days before Mother’s Day was when it finally happened.

   Despite the angel that had come into my life, I was still lazy and numb, but I feel I was more angry at this point. Regardless, on May 6th, 2016, I officially gave up. From neglect to anger to depression to laziness, it had all culminated to this. It came in waves: neglect, anger, depression, suicidal ideation, hopelessness, self-attack, breakdown, intervention, self-abandonment, extreme sloth, numbness beyond the realm of textual representation, sick of my state, denying help, anger and then release. Release of it all. When I say ‘I gave up’, that seems so small in text, but defined ‘the rest of my life’. This had been culminating for 4 years and I finally just gave up. Career? never. Healthy diet? never. Friends? They already all left me so nothing’s gonna change ‘cause it hasn’t. Love? either I said I can’t ‘cause of my mental state or idk. Being happy? it hasn’t been possible.

    I adopted a new phrase: Until death. It kept repeating in my head. I had a new set of goals and motivation in my life. My goal was to avoid being happy. It was to never seek love or really get anything serious, idk. My goal was never to get a better paying job, but get enough just to live on my own. Push everyone away, not get lied to by people’s flakiness. Be in a shitty apartment and watch my 30′s, 40′s, 50′s and maybe even 60′s alone. Eat junk food and clog my arteries as no one cares and everyone has forgotten me. What’s the use. I tried. I FUCKING TRIED!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And I couldn’t do it. After 4 years, I was alone, I had no social life, I couldn’t score a woman and I was too creepy to even get close to the first step, I had eaten junk food most of my life and it was affecting my mental and physical health, I couldn’t hold a job, I couldn’t advance because I couldn’t stay long enough, my mental health was blocking my success rate before I started telling people it was blocking my success rate, I was at odds with my parents, Missy was in Chicago, no matter what I did I just couldn’t progress. It wasn’t worth it. I just let it go. My life and my desire to be happy. And that was a commitment. Hard as it would be for my family to have to endure that, I didn’t do it for them. And they didn’t have to suffer. But they did.

   Missy graduated the year we're talking about now. To preface that, the whole family had vacationed to New Orleans sometime.....2014? idk, but my mental state and circumstances had made me a recluse. My family was outgoing, talking with Uber drivers and the person kind enough to let us use their house instead of a hotel. They experienced New Orleans and were having fun. But not me. I was not fully there. I was withholding myself from participating. I was quiet. if you knew me when I was myself, I was the opposite of quiet and shy. But the darkness had just become me. I was barely participating, sitting away from people and not saying a word, focusing on rooting my phone and occasionally talking about it, not talking to humans outside of my family and not speaking with a sad, distant, vacant expression.

    I learned something through my silence. Usually, if there were family problems, I’d be overly involved and not able to think straight ‘cause I’m thinking of all the perspectives and dividing my attention up multifold. I wasn’t like this in New Orleans. When I said nothing, I got to listen more; I got to see what I hadn’t seen all this time. Or at least what I didn’t bring into focus all my life. And that was more true sides of my family through their interactions. The fighting over nothing and people from different perspectives. The escalations and how my family just doesn’t understand each other. If anyone else is reading this but me, you can learn more than you can possibly imagine when you say little to nothing, sit back and let the conversation you normally are involved in happen in front of you. Don’t interact, just let it happen. Watch what you don’t pick up. Our compassion is valid; we can also get carried away and not notice what’s fully going on right in front of our faces.

    Much changed from that much as I used to. Optimism is ideal in moderation, as is everything else. My father was so aperspective shift. I learned more about where we are as a family and I didn’t brush it under the rug as ngry that my standout silence and being a weird, burdensome stick in the mud of a family vacation was affecting everyone and our time together. Not to mention my sister moved out...........2013? I forget. She had been in Chicago so we don’t see her everyday. Things had changed. I had moved back, but for a small amount of time, mom and dad had the place to themselves. That part of your kids growing up and leaving. He confronted me angrily and I learned something else by what he said. You would think he would say something based on how I’ve prefaced this, but instead what uttered from is angry face was:

“Do you have any idea how much money I’ve spent?!”

    Sometimes, maybe many times, the way you say something or the first thing you say reflects where your focus is at. I disagree this is always the case. But in that moment, I believe as a man whose life revolved around providing for his family for 20 years, became focused on that primarily. The man can love. The man loves him family incomprehensibly. Never doubt that. But I learned not only of his perspective but how men (traditionally and mostly) make their life’s purpose of providing....larger than love, communication and interaction. All of that is still there in my father at this point, but when it wasn’t, I learned why.

    Back to the point, Missy was graduating. I had been at Jimmy John’s a bit and even though New Orleans was a while ago, I only got worse for vacations. And going to Chicago was..........terrible. My sister had always been a social butterfly and extravertive. Our personalities were now white and black. I didn’t know how to talk to people. I didn’t know how to socialize. I didn’t want to. I’d been burned so much that I forgot how to be a human being, and also tried not to be. The silence and seclusion as people were in my sister’s living room, talking, was bizarre. People would kindly ask me about me and raise small talk and I don’t remember how much I’d say if I said anything. I think I’d straight up ignore people. It was extremely awkward. I was introvertive, shy, quiet, ignoring and reserved like I was an extreme trauma victim or a mute (no offence meant to either an victim of a crippling trauma or mutes). My sister was in love and trying with this man that turned out to be an asshole. But at the time, my sister was showing me her life and a very important man in her life and I was just letting it pass me by. Was it as simple as just getting over it? Faking it and putting on a face? That, is the opposite of who I am, and I couldn’t just shake this off. I was alone for 4 years and upset about it. It changed me so much that you don’t just pull out of that. Who Matthew IS. PERIOD. at this point. IS. too far gone from who he really is and so deeply warped and shaped by his depression that who he IS is hopeless and functionless.

    Her boyfriend got me a present. I practically said nothing. I watched my sister graduate. I don’t remember it. This is trauma. This has affected my caring, my memory and my attention span. I’m not myself or a functioning human. PSA: it is possible to get out of the habit of many things you don’t think you could get out of the habit of. Like social interaction, how to talk to people, react to things. It wasn’t the darkest point, but such a troublesome time. I was 99.9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999% darkness and 00.0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000001% myself. There has always been a voice inside that never wanted this. That disagreed with the (verbal) self harm I’d convince myself. After a while, if you tell yourself the same thing, whether it’s good or destructive, you’ll believe it. You’ll trick you mind. Same thing with your environment. You become affected and accustomed to your environment to some extent. When you don’t realize it.

But this was never me. Me just got smaller. The darkness took over. The darkness was my Caretaker, which leads me to...

[ice-cream-nekogirl]

Amy Martinez (Character Sheet TV Tropes Style) K-O

Kick The Dog: Several times…

When she and Midoriya fought each other over how he handled the debacle with Overhaul, he attempted to apologize to her and give her an All-Might figure as a gift (Shinsou’s suggestion), but she rejected the gift and crushed it with her telekinesis.

Much like with Midoriya, Aizawa attempts to appease Amy when she’s upset with him for not taking her in after her parents died when he and the other pro-heroes could have, by apologizing and buying her a cat plushie, but Amy tells him it’s too late, denounces it as garbage and incinerates it with her pyrokinesis.

At the Christmas party, after Eri ate her cookie not knowing it was hers, an incensed Amy pretends to call Santa on her to not give her any presents.

Amy also wrote everyone angry letters (not knowing she wasn’t supposed to send them) and she simply wrote for Eri to “Get out.”  

As stated, Amy wrote angry letters to most of her classmates, but ended up accidentally sending them as her classmates end up reading her actual, cruel opinions of them and she later says them word-for-word which made Iida,Yaoyorozu and Ojiro cry:

Calls Uraraka a ‘basic bitch’.

Tells Kirishima that he’s an idiot if he thinks being manly means anything.

Says that Yaoyorozu is ‘really stupid for the smartest girl in the class’ and is a ‘privileged bubblehead’

Similarly she calls Iida an ‘uptight robot’ and a ‘priveleged rich boy with no real meaningful goal’.

Asks Sero what he’s even doing in the Hero Course because he’s a “fucking human tape dispenser”

Calls Ojiro the “worst one in the class” because he’s “boring”, then insults his hero costume on top of it all.

Really just about anything she and Shinsou do to Ojiro as they relentlessly mock his generic personality by calling him ‘boring’ or steal his things for no reason other than amusement.

When she, Midoriya, Todoroki and Bakugo intern with Endeavor and visit his family at his house, she calls Fuyumi an idiot for being so forgiving towards Endeavor.

Kick The Son Of A Bitch: She always punishes Mineta for his perversion usually in the form of groin attacks, tossing him out the window or using him as an expendable decoy in battle.

She also beats the shit out of Tate Langdon with Shinsou before letting the former be dragged to Hell when together them and Madison free the residents in the Murder House from their purgatory and let their souls move into the afterlife.

Kiddie Kid: She’s a high schooler and yet she tends to act MUCH younger than that as it shows through her fondness for toys and My Little Pony, her excitable attitude and her dislike of work. Iida even frequently tells her that she needs to grow up.

Shinsou straight up says that having Amy as a friend is the same as having a child, one that he and Ashlen constantly look after with him being the ‘dad’ and Ashlen being the ‘mom’. 

Kill It With Water: Her second death at the hands of her ex-boyfriend Damien as he drowned her in a bathtub. Much like above, she gets better as Madison this time revives her.  

Killer Rabbit: Small, cute and for the most part sweet, but Amy can and WILL kill you if you cross her, if you’re lucky, she’ll just curse you or hex you. 

Knife Nut: She’s handy with a knife and clearly gets a high out of using them.

Lack of Empathy: While she IS capable of feeling empathy for others, Amy can also easily show a disturbing lack of empathy for others due to her selfish nature and sense of entitlement as she can easily dismiss other people’s problems and feelings.

Amy: Greenie I’m not some urchin you found on the street I matter.

Lady Swears A Lot: She’s VERY foul-mouthed and has an affinity for F-bombs and other vulgar language. Iida has frequently told her to watch her language, denouncing it as unladylike while she just says “Shut the fuck up” in return.

Lame Comeback: Although she and Shinsou are normally very witty and quick to come up with a smart remark, when they are too angry to come up with anything clever, their insults are... less effective.

Large Ham: She’s super dramatic and almost always at 11, not to mention she loves to dramatic sing songs when she hears anything that even remotely sounds like a lyric to a song she knows.

Laughing Mad: Since she’s not very stable to begin with, Amy has a habit of bursting into laughter at inappropriate times. As she laughs during her fight with Midoriya after he punches her, which greatly unsettles him.

Leitmotif:

La la la la la da…

All the good girls go to hell…

so what if i’m crazy? (the best people are)

Like Brother and Sister: Her and Shinsou have known each other since they were four years old and have a very close friendship built entirely on trust and unfiltered honesty to the point where it’s almost inappropriate but it nonetheless displays that they only love each other like family and have nothing romantic between them whatsoever as they found out during a so-called date and they realized that while they love each other, the thought of being together repulses them.

Light Feminine, Dark Feminine: Although she’s just as wicked as Madison is, Amy’s definitely a Light Feminine compared to Madison’s Dark Feminine.

However, Amy is the Dark Feminine to Ashlen’s Light Feminine, as well as her other female classmates, especially Ashido, Uraraka and Yaoyorozu.

Light Is Not Good: While Amy wears black like many of her witch sisters, she also is fond of light clothing such as pink and other pastel colors, but she’s not exactly the most heroic girl in the world.

Limp and Livid: When pissed off beyond belief, Amy slouches even more to signify her very fragile stability and fights even more viciously, letting her rage literally take control in battle. 

Little Miss Badass: Ever since she was 11 years old Amy’s enter a world of bloodshed and action and has gotten VERY good with her powers and magic, and only gets stronger as she gets older.

Living Emotional Crutch: She’s one to Shinsou as he broke down hard when she left for New Orleans and fell into a depression. While he managed to pick himself back up he never stopped thinking about Amy, imagined that she was there with him and made her one of his motivations in his goal to become a pro-hero. And he’s absolutely elated when she returns and gains even more drive to fulfill his dream with his friend back to him. And Amy is one of the few people that Shinsou trusts enough to turn to when he’s at his lowest point and his loneliest and Amy is quick to give him all the support and comfort he needs.

And vice-versa when Amy returns, Shinsou is easily the only living being that keeps her from going insane as she thinks about him whenever she’s having a meltdown as he can reason with her before she acts recklessly while at the same time comforting her and reassuring her. It helps that he’s the last piece she has from her childhood that reminds her of a time where things were easy, innocent and fun for her as she thinks fondly of their happier times where nothing other than having fun mattered.  

She’s one to Ashlen as well, who has expressed of fear of not having her best friend in her life anymore to the point of crying and panicking. She even tearfully begs Amy to not leave her alone, because she can’t be without the person she views as her best friend in the world. And vice-versa, Ashlen becomes one to Amy, as she falls right back into insanity and depression when she thinks she’s hurt her and can’t bear to live with herself with that fact knowing that she harmed her. Amy even says that she doesn’t think she’d be able to live in a world without Ashlen, and confesses that she’d probably have gone on another homicidal rampage she’d never come back from without Ashlen in her life. 

Logical Weakness: Amy might seem like the lucky one with her variety of powers, but in actuality having more powers also forces her to utilize more energy depending on the power she’s using and thus leaves her very vulnerable when using too energy to fuel her powers drains her and renders her weaker with nosebleeds and headaches, and she’s even realized that should she overdo it with her telekinesis that she could suffer brain damage.

Love Makes You Evil: Not quite as bad as Toga, but still very present.

The Mad Hatter: Amy goes insane during her time in New Orleans, is well aware that she’s no longer sane by the time she gets to UA, but embraces her insanity as part of who she is and how she’s grown. While it unnerves her friends at first, they wouldn’t have her any other way.

Amy: (laughs) I wouldn’t be nearly as fun if I were sane. All the best people are crazy~.

Manic Pixie Dream Girl: She can sometimes act like this, especially for Ashlen surprisingly enough, as her wild behavior encourages her to loosen up a little bit and find more confidence in herself. 

Manipulative Bitch: Fiona did raise her for a short-time, but boy did she rub off on her. Amy’s learned how to use her appearance and earn sympathy from others while also bending the truth to get people to do what she wants or fall into her traps. Shown during the end of the Culture Festival where she pretends to be remorseful to Aizawa, only to blind him with a potion and begin her rampage. 

Masculine Girl and Feminine Boy: She has this dynamic whenever she’s with Midoriya. Amy might dress and act femininely, but she’s far more ruthless, vulgar and crude compared to the soft-spoken and gentle Midoriya. Although Midoriya isn’t really effeminate, he’s the one who has to keep Amy from acting too rough and aggressive. 

Likewise, while Todoroki and Iida aren’t anymore feminine and masculine in their own ways, they’re much less crude and shameless than Amy is so she’s also the Masculine Girl to their Feminine Boys. 

Meaningful Name: Amy means “beloved” or “worthy of love” which may have to do with her loving nature as despite all of her flaws, Amy loves VERY strongly and her powers are connected to her strong emotions including her capacity to love others as she even states that she wants to become a hero because she believes in love and wants to fight for it. Also, Amy herself is very beloved by several that she is close to such as Shinsou, Ashlen, Bakugo, Madison, Todoroki, Cordelia, and many more.

Martinez is derived from ‘Mars’ which is the Roman name for Ares, the God of War, which MAY allude to Amy’s love for fighting and affinity for violence and chaos.

Her middle name ‘Ophelia’ also means ‘help’ which ultimately refers to her helpful nature as she becomes an ally to the heroes, women, witches and other groups she wants to fight for and support. Also could refer to the character ‘Ophelia’ in Shakespeare’s Hamlet who slowly lost her sanity after her father’s death and Hamlet’s behavior, much like how Amy herself lost her sanity after her parent’s deaths.

Mood Swinger: Can go from cheerfully happy and sweetly smiling to fuming and screaming angrily to bitterly cold and threatening murder to crying miserably and sulking sadly all within the span of a single hour or day.  

Morality Chain: Shinsou is one of the few people she actually treats with equal respect and genuinely cares about enough to stop during a meltdown. Similarly, her coven and her classmates serve as hers as her friendship with them kept her from going over to the villain’s side or returning to New Orleans. Shinsou, Bakugo, Midoriya and Todoroki in particular are some of the only people that she is willing to reason with, likewise, Kaminari, Hagakure, Kouda, Shouji and Aoyama are the only classmates she consistently treats nicely.

Her new best friend Ashlen is one of the few people aside from Shinsou and Todoroki that she is willing to reason with, is always respectful towards her aside from teasing, and the only person who can get her to behave and be nice to her other classmates. And thus far is the only one who’s inspired Amy to treat people around her better as she reflects on her actions after following Ashlen’s example and has learned to be kinder and more respectful.

Morality Pet: She’s one for Madison, as the older, crueler witch will hold back on her meaner impulses when tormenting her classmates, most of the time, for Amy’s sake and will go out of her way to make sure the younger witch is happy. Likewise, she also served as one for Fiona, the former Supreme who treated her like a granddaughter, it didn’t stop her from attempting to murder Amy, but she feels regret for it and still cares for the young witch and watches over her to ensure she is safe and being treated well. Lastly, she’s one for her Ax-Crazy friend Darcy, who became less violent due to Amy’s influence. 

More Deadly Than The Male: Witches are stronger than warlocks, and it shows in that Amy was always stronger than her ex boyfriend Damien. And when she interns with Endeavor alongside Midoriya, Bakugo and Todoroki, the three strongest males of 1-A. Endeavor reluctantly admits to himself that despite being the only female, Amy’s unpredictable temper, array of powers and tendency to fight from a distance makes her the most dangerous of the group.

The Music Meister: Sort of. When she breaks out into song and dance she can get some of her more outgoing friends to sing and dance along with her. Even Shinsou, especially when she starts singing Panic! At The Disco. 

My God What Have I Done?: As she fights Midoriya and gains the upper hand by trapping and grabbing him with her Sentio Compassios form, she’s ready to maim him in her form’s hands but as soon as she sees him crying and pleading with her to stop, Amy finally pauses when she remembers that she protected him first, only to hurt him and as she lets him go she leaves without a word but it’s clear she felt horrible for intending to maim him. And then she feels even more horrible when she stops to see the damage she’s done to UA and all the heroes she’s harmed. Despite claiming to be sick of UA, Amy mostly withdraws from the school because she felt too guilty to return. 

Never My Fault: Would rather shift the blame onto something or someone else even when it’s clearly her fault. Not only that but Amy generally doesn’t take much responsibility for her actions nor is she willing to own up to her mistakes. 

However, this is ultimately subverted as Amy is well aware when things are her fault and DOES apologize for them, it just takes a while for her to admit it due to shame and guilt.

Nice Hat: Just like her sisters, Amy has an affinity for wearing some very nice black hats in the style of witches.

Nice, Mean, and In-Between: Of The Zombie Trio, she is more the “In-Between” to Ashlen’s “Nice” and Shinsou’s “Mean”.

However at times she and Shinsou either switch roles where he becomes “In-Between” and Amy becomes “Mean”, but then they are also capable of both being the “Mean”. Amy and Shinsou are both only “In-Between” whenever they are joined by Madison or Bakugo.

The Nicknamer: Much like Bakugo, but her nicknames are far (most of the time) less insulting as she likes to give everyone nicknames that are usually affectionate and cutesy as she tends to especially use ‘cat’ or ‘bear’ in their

Ashlen: Ash, Ash-bear, Ash-chan

Izuku: Greenie, Zuzu, Deku-bear

Bakugo: Katsu-kitty, Katsu-kun, Kacchan (like Izuku)

Shinsou: Hito, Toshi, Tosh, Toshi-bear, Toshi-cat

Madison: Mads, Maddie

Tsuyu: Tsu, Tsu-tsu, Tsu-kun

Todoroki: Toto, Sho-kun, Sho, Shoto-cake, Shoto-bear

Iida: Ten-ten, Tenya-bear, Four-Eyes

Uraraka: Raka

Hagakure: Toorun, Ruu

Yaoyorozu: Momo-bear

Kaminari: Den-kun, Den-kitty, Denki-bear

Kirishima: Kiri-kat, Kiri

Aoyama: Twinkle-Toes

Ojiro: What’s-Your-Face

Tokoyami: Toko, Toko-bird

Sero: Sero-bear, Han-kun

Ashido: Min-chan, Mina-min

Kouda: Kody, Kouda-bear

Aizawa: ‘Back-hair’

Nightmare Fuel Station Attendant: Due to her love for horror, Amy is more than happy to scare the shit out of her classmates by telling them horrifying stories about death, torture and serial killers. Helps that Amy’s unsettling nature also adds to the horror whenever she makes gestures and adds sound effects to her stories and even shows pictures. 

Nightmare Fetishist: Enjoys horror-based things such as witchcraft, the occult, and also has a fondness for creepy creatures such as tarantulas, snakes and alligators as she coos at how ‘cute’ they are. She’s also ecstatic when she wanders around haunted sites with ghosts and blood-drinkers such as the Murder House, the abandoned Briarcliff Manor and the haunted Hotel Cortez.

No Indoor Voice: Prone to screaming at the top of her lungs when making a point. In fact, she’s the second loudest in the Hero Course behind Bakugo.

No Sense of Personal Space: Amy’s very hands-on and touchy, as she constantly puts her hands on her friends whether it’s on their shoulders, hugging them randomly, holding onto their arms or hands.  

No Social Skills: Downplayed. Amy’s perfectly capable of socializing with people, but doesn’t seem to see an issue with swearing in front of adults and strangers, nor does she see an issue with being overly affectionate and touching, especially shown when she happily greets Inko.

Not Good With Rejection: No... she’s really not. Just ask Midoriya.

The Not Love Interest: She’s one to Shinsou, as his best friend, she is the person he is closest to and serves as one of his motivations, thinks about her every single day, cares and looks after her and is seen with her the most out of anyone. Amy is also quite affectionate to him and Shinsou was her main reason for returning to Japan so she could see him again and rekindle their friendship. They are very comfortable with each other, aren’t against hugging and share almost all of their secrets with each other. Also, Amy is one of the few people who can bring him out of his shell as Shinsou feels very comfortable loosening up around Amy and has no issue looking foolish in front of her. However, Amy and Shinsou have NO romantic interest in each other whatsoever, comically express how disgusted they are by each other and Shinsou’s true love interest in Ashlen, Amy’s best friend who she happily pairs Shinsou with.

Similarly, she’s also one to Madison, as the bitchy witch becomes slowly kinder to Amy’s friends because of her care for the younger witch. Madison also goes out of her way to make sure Amy is happy because she can’t stand to see her sad, even rescues her from All For One and the League of Villains by herself and often consoles her when she is upset. Amy’s overall influence has made Madison something of a better person who has become more considerate of others, but she gets jealous of other people who spend time with her and ‘steal’ her away, despite having no romantic feelings for each other. Helps that they even argue at times like an Old Married Couple.

She can also be one to Ashlen at times, as aside from Shinsou, Amy is one of the most important people in her life, acts as her main emotional support as she allows her to talk about her feelings and vent to about her past whenever she is sad or feeling insecure and Amy becomes one of her newer inspirations as she gradually grows more confident and secure with herself due to her influence. 

Not So Different: She realizes this with the League of Villains, particularly Toga and Twice, who she forms a bond with over feeling outcasted by society and lack of mental stability. She also manages to have a pleasant conversation with Shigaraki when she can relate to him on feeling like one of the ‘losers’ of Hero Society, it’s the reason why he tried to convince her to join his League, while she didn’t reply, she ultimately ends up staying with the heroes because of her friendship with 1-A.

She ends up bonding with Bakugo after they got kidnapped together, where she points out that they’re really not that different from each other because she has a similar goal and mindset which leads them to talking more despite Bakugo trying to claim that they’re ‘night and day’.

Oblivious To Love: Averted. Amy is well aware of who’s crushing on who, or who has feelings for her as she is clearly flattered by Todoroki’s feelings for her and Monoma’s even more obvious crush on her.

Odd Friendship: With many of her classmates but particularly Midoriya,Tsuyu,  Yaoyorozu, Tokoyami and Kouda.

Midoriya was the first friend she made aside from Shinsou, but while he’s a humble and shy nice guy, she’s shameless and arrogant.

Amy took a liking to Tsuyu as they are shown to work together quite well in combat and bond over tastes in aesthetics.

Despite mocking her in the beginning, she grows fond of Yaoyorozu even though they’re starkly different in terms of intelligence, personality and mannerisms.

Amy says that she likes Tokoyami because he’s a ‘boy witch’ and he’s fascinated by witch culture and they seem to get along relatively well despite him being low-key and collected and her being wild and hyper.

Kouda is the quietest student in 1-A while Amy is one of the loudest, but they easily become friends due to their love for animals and cute things.

To Bakugo’s horror, she hits it off with his mother Mitsuki due to their similarly loud, abrasive personalities and annoyance towards him. 

She also becomes quite fond of Natsuo when she’s interning with Endeavor and allows him to open up to her about how much he hates Endeavor while she happily tells him that she hates him too.

When she and Ashlen officially meet, their friendship shows to be quite odd but sweet. Amy’s off the wall with a varying morality, while Ashlen is grounded and is firmly on the side of good. 

Older Than They Look: Amy’s older than classmates such as Midoriya, Iida, Todoroki, Shouji and Ashlen, but acts MUCH younger than they do and certainly looks a bit younger than they do as she frequently gets mistaken for a middle schooler. 

One Woman Army: When Amy is provoked and at her more insane, she becomes too much for even the pro-heroes to handle as she merely pushes them away with very strong telekinesis and keeps them at bay. Even the Big 3, Amajiki, Nejire and Mirio (who was quirkless) are no match for Amy as she effortlessly beats the tar out of them when they try stopping her. However, she’s still clever enough to fight older, experience heroes at a distance but her array of powers and rage (fueling her Sentio Compassios) allows her to overwhelm them and take them by surprise, and with Concilium she’s able to make some of the stronger ones simply go to sleep. 

OOC Is Serious Business: Amy’s almost always upbeat and overzealous while also cracking jokes without a care in the world, but when she’s NOT acting happy-go-lucky or muttering a joke, it becomes clear that something is very wrong with her as her classmates are alarmed when Amy shows any instance of fear or nerves.

Seeing her acting unemotional or stoic is also an indicator that something is wrong with Amy, as Midoriya, Bakugo and Todoroki are each quite shocked upon seeing her so detached and cold during the Internship with Endeavor.

What further contrasts her from Bakugo is that while he drops nicknames and calls people by last name out of respect, Amy instead drops the nicknames whenever she is pissed off beyond reason.

The Ophelia: She was long, wavy dirty blonde hair, often sings at random times while dancing and appears to be out of touch with reality as she puts a positive spin on even the bleakest things. However, it’s played for horror when she goes on a rampage as she lets her hair down, singing all the while she’s causing mayhem.

As a bonus, her middle name is Ophelia, and she was even killed once in a manner very similar to Ophelia as she was drowned by Damien, not unlike how Ophelia died by drowning in a pond. 

#amy martinez #bnha oc #mha oc #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #american horror story #american horror story coven #ahs #ahs coven #ahs oc #ahs original character #tv tropes

[dyketectivecomics]

Mystics in Therapy - Chapter 2: Groupthink

(Read on Ao3 or below!)

In this chapter: Zatanna and Constantine begin to lead group sessions for our young troubled mystics. (Spoilers for the end of Raven: Daughter of Darkness, and a few references to general pre52 canon. There’s a lot of mixing of canons & the biggest discussion/theme is a character’s death so keep that in mind & buckle up everyone!)

...

“Raise your hand if you have been personally victimized by Baron Winters,” Traci laughed, arm lazily outstretched as she watched each of the teens in the circle follow suit. It was the first thing to break the silence, the unnatural quiet of the room. Small smiles and a few chuckles escaped as everyone seemed to relax a little more.

They turned as the door creaked open again, Zatanna and Zachary following close behind her.

“Told you it was on the left,” Zach sneered, taking the empty seat on the far side of the room. Zatanna only rolled her eyes before taking in the room before her, nails tapping thoughtfully against the final empty folding chair.

They creaked with every fidget and shift the teens made, the metal old and worn. The room itself was lit well enough, but smelled faintly of a citrus air freshener. Too clean, too clinical. Zatanna shook her head, motioning for everyone to stand.

“No one’s going to be able to relax and open up like this. S’TEL TEG EMOS SEHCUOC NI EREH.”

None of the young mystics batted an eye as the chairs were all replaced by a two pairs of sofas and loveseats, all in varying styles. They took their seats again, carefully giving one another space, but none of them sitting properly on the cushions. Traci and Raven both had their legs tucked up, either under them or beside them. Zach had spread himself out on nearly the entire length of the couch opposite of the one his cousin shared now with the urban magician. Lori and Klarion shared the loveseat opposite of the one Raven occupied by herself, each letting their legs dangle over the armrest on the side and leaning against a pile of decorative pillows between them.

Zatanna’s eyes drifted around, carefully watching each of the teens and trying to gauge just how open they might be for this first session together. Not one of them were dressed in their usual hero outfits, instead sporting mixes of graphic tees and lounge wear, a few identifying accessories for personal style.

One would think this were a support group like any other, possibly one for wayward teenagers, instead of young mystics coping with a grave loss.

“Anyone want something to drink before we start? Or snacks? These things can run a little long-”

“Gods, can we just get started already?” Lori groaned, “We all watched Skye die. We’re all super conflicted and probably fucked up over it more than usual! Is that what you want to hear? Is that where we’re supposed to start?”

Raven starts tearing up, and Traci and Zach both roll their eyes.

“Real tactful there, Alice,” Traci grumbles as she conjures some tissue boxes, silently throwing them to each mystic. Klarion catches it expertly, Zach lets his fall at his feet, not bothering to move it. Traci passes the last one she has in hand over to the Titan at her side, giving a soft smile.

“I promise I won’t give you a lame nickname like barf boy’s over there, if you share first.”

The Titan gratefully accepted one of the tissues, shaking her head with a small laugh as she dabbed at her eyes. Zach stuck his tongue out at the magician before turning away again, appearing to take something out of his sleeve. Before Zatanna could call attention to it, Raven spoke up.

“I suppose I should be first… I was the one you all trusted to lead you-”

“I don’t remember putting it to a vote-” Zach started, his hands were occupied playing cats cradle with some glowing string. Zatanna gave a flick of her wrist to snatch it telekinetically from his hands, deftly balling it up and making it disappear in some sleight of hand.

“Shut up, Zach,” was the chorus echoed around the circle, to which the team laughed.

“One of the first rules of group therapy,” Zatanna started, “Be mindful and respectful of one another. I would hope that we’re mature enough to not have to resort to a talking baton to pass around-”

“Nope.” “All good.” “Hear you crystal clear, Miss Zee.”

The Leaguer nodded, turning to look towards the Titan then.

“Whenever you’re ready, Raven. If you need us to skip and come back to you, just say so.”

The empath took another breath, nodding before continuing.

“Like ripping off the bandaid. That’s how the expression goes, correct?” She paused, making tiny tears into the tissue, something to help distract and gather her thoughts. “I have been healing and helping… nearly all of my life. There have always been limits to what I can do. I have made my peace with that. But… It is different, when it is a teammate. Even one that we knew so briefly as we did Skye. I-”

She swallows carefully, “I wanted to help her. But how can we save someone who refuses that help? Why would she…” She sniffs a bit, waving a hand.

“Someone else wants to say something. I can feel it. Go on.”

Klarion and Lori both open their mouths to speak, talking over one another as they decided who would go first.

“I mean, I helped,” Lori laughed bitterly, “Not helped helped, but… Helped her to… You probably can’t feel it as much now, because there’s so many of us here, but I’m a leech. When I hijack someone’s powers, I’m always taking, taking taking. I mean… I killed her-”

“Don’t say that!” “She asked you to-” “That’s not fair-”

“I did!” Lori yelled, “Or I thought I did. At first. Maybe I didn’t take it all away, but if I hadn’t taken her powers she might-”

Zatanna reached over to gently tap the teen’s knee, breaking her rant before she could go too far.

“I don’t believe that, Lori-”

“Alice,” she bit out, “Call me Alice or call me nothing.”

“Alice,” the magician amended. “Some of us have found it helpful to go over the situation with others. In the League, we usually use it as an opportunity to prepare, to do better the next time we’re out in the field. But it can also be a little cathartic.”

There’s a beat of silence as each of the teens look at one another uncertainly, skeptically even.

“Do you want us to start where Winters tried to shanghai each of us individually?” Traci asked, “Or that last battle on Azarath?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Constantine watched his two charges for the afternoon as they carefully watched him. Amy was a small, strong-willed slip of a girl when she wasn’t galavanting as Princess Amethyst. Right now she was giving her glasses a quick polish with her Wonder Woman shirt before adjusting them on her face. She gave him a glare. Eddie was somehow a bit more unsettling to watch as he smiled at the occultist, all blood red skin and long horns that would make any demon John had faced before jealous. His leg was bouncing with what John could only imagine was either nervous or excitable energy. It didn’t seem like he’d sit still any time soon.

“You kids mind if I smoke while we’re at this, then?” He had the pack in his shirt pocket, already partially pulled as the pair gave their answers.

“No,” Eddie shrugged.

“Yes,” Amy said simultaneously, glaring even harder at the adult. He slowly tucked the pack back into his pocket. “I thought this was supposed to be a group session. Where’s the group?”

John sighed, rubbing at his neck before he took off the tie completely. The room was sweltering, and the demonologist was beginning to wonder if it was too late to change his attire.

“Winters’ little Night Force have something they need to work through together before we can join ‘em. So for now, unless those Shazam kids decide to join ya, we’re all we’ve got till they finish.”

The smile dropped from Eddie’s face then.

“Wait, Winters? As in Baron Winters?”

“What of it, lad?”

“I… I almost joined him. I… didn’t save the guy he sent me to save and… What happened? Oh my god!” He stood up and began pacing the room. Amy and John’s eyes only followed as he went.

“Relax, kid,” John started, “Listen, I’ve been through enough of these things to know how this needs to go. You can’t change what wasn’t in your control in the first place. But we can start talking about what is .”

He pat the seat a few times to invite Eddie to sit once more.

“So park it here, and let’s start by introducing us, yeah? You can go first…”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

With a rough, uncertain start, they worked through their memories, each teen filling in the gaps for the others as they went along, piecing together bit by bit exactly what had led to Skye’s final moments as they remembered them.

“And then she was… gone,” Traci said. “It was like she… tore herself apart or something. Next thing you know, someone said we had to go back to Wintersgate and well...”

Zatanna nodded solemnly, waiting a moment or two for someone else to speak up before she filled the silence.

“It’s part of grief. Wondering what you could have done differently, or what you wish to do now. It may even seem like a good idea, to want to bring her back-”

“Been to Hell, thanks” Lori said, “The sights sucked. Not planning on returning.”

“Who said she’s in Hell?” Klarion pointed. And the group soon devolved into petty argument.

Zatanna massaged her temple before raising her voice just slightly above even her usual booming projection.

It wasn’t a yell. She would deny that much.

“TEIUQ!”

The magical silence was nearly hysterical.

The magician sighed, thinking carefully on what she was about to say next.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Diana’s lip curled in disgust as the staff member finished giving his report to them, immediately standing, fist clenching. But she was also frozen in place. What was there to do, what action could be taken in the news of something so horrendous?

“Where are the children?” she asked first.

“Some of them have elected to stay overnight. Some are at their own homes,” he supplied. “We can get in contact if-”

“And where is Winters?” Diana growled.

“Easy there, luv,” John said, “This isn’t the first time he’s been indirectly responsible for something like-”

“Oh, but we would know all about something like that, wouldn’t we John?” Zatanna sneered, “I should’ve shut him down after that night. I should’ve exposed every last damned thing he had done after Dad-”

“The League will figure out what to do with Winters and how to bring him to justice,” Diana said, interrupting as she paced to look out the window. She gazed into the night, as fireflies danced in the fields and clouds gently rolled, blocking moonlight and starlight alike periodically. “We’ll need to go about that carefully, if what you have told me about the man is true. But our priority needs to be the children.”

“Hard to be in this line of work and not seen a few things to keep ya up night,” John shrugged, “One of the first prices to pay with magic, trading in your innocence.”

“Not all of us had to literally trade it,” Zatanna bit out, “But I’ll call around. See if we can get the community to put a ban on Winters. Make sure he can’t contact them-”

“You two should be the ones to talk to them,” Diana said. The tone of her voice made it clear it wasn’t a suggestion, or even a question. It was a command.

Constantine immediately started laughing.

“You can’t be serious? Zee may be somewhat qualified, maybe, but I’m hardly-”

“A cautionary tale? A man with more experiences and regrets to rival the most accomplished mystic?” Diana guessed, scoffing, “No, Constantine, you’re hardly the man I want for the job. But you’re the one that’s needed. Just as you always are.”

The exorcist closed his mouth, turning away from the amazon as he stuck his hands in his coat pockets.

After a few beats of silence, Zatanna found her voice.

“Diana…” she sighed, “What are we even supposed to say to them? This… This isn’t something that’s cured overnight.”

The amazon turned from the window, hand placed on her lasso as she thought for another moment.

“Tell them the truth. And give them the room to speak theirs.”

#zatanna zatara #john constantine #rachel roth #traci thirteen #lori zechlin #klarion the witch boy #zachary zatara #amy winston #eddie bloomberg #diana prince #wonder woman #hic rewrite #heroes in therapy #mystics in therapy #randywritesfic #oh BOY lots of tags! #theres SO MUCH to say but i won't. (just gonna cross my fingers that anyone who's read the snippets so far also reads this!) #(feedback & reblogs are MUCH appreciated and s/o to EVERYONE WHOS DONE THAT SO FAR I OWE U PEOPLE MY LIFE)

[badluckbritta]

Dance With Me

A Bemily fic for @emilyjunk  This is the first fic I’ve written in years and I actually started working on this idea about two years ago haha. Please do enjoy! (Also on ao3)

“This is quite the party, huh?”

Beca and Emily stood outside of the frat house hand in hand, watching in both horror and awe at the scene before them. Drunken college students were everywhere, talking, horsing around, and engaging in very public displays of affection. The music echoed from the house out onto the lawn; it was loud but not enough to drown out the various shouting and conversations from nearby.

Emily squeezed Beca’s hand and smiled over at her. “You okay?”

Beca looked up at her girlfriend and grimaced.

“As okay as I’ll ever be.”

Emily gave Beca’s hand another reassuring squeeze and began to walk forward. “We don’t have to stay long. Let’s just check it out, say hello!”

As the pair entered the house and waded through the mass of people inside, Beca tried to recall how exactly she got talked into going to this impromptu midyear party. She thought back to the previous week when Amy was asking the other Bellas for bucket list suggestions. Emily had immediately started reciting the different things she wanted to do in her life, including going to a frat party.

Beca didn’t think it would actually happen, but she did know that there was no way in hell that she was going to sit back and let Emily Junk go to a frat house by herself ever. So when news of this particular party got around, Beca decided go with Emily and call it a date, mostly to convince herself to power through it. Emily responded with her usual enthusiasm, hugs and kisses included, and the rest was history.

So there she stood, groaning internally as Emily led her further into the building, stepping past dancing couples and boisterous girls and frat boys attempting to play various drinking games. Beca felt a bit relieved as she noticed the expression of carefree excitement on her girlfriend’s face. If Emily was happy, maybe she could find a way to lighten up too. Of course, it didn’t help that some of the partygoers they’d passed by had bumped into her repeatedly or otherwise crammed themselves into her personal space. This night would be a true test of her dedication.

After struggling through the mass of people, Emily and Beca managed to find something to drink. Their next task would be settling in and soaking up the atmosphere of the party. For Emily, that was always a breeze. She was already dancing, expertly balancing her drink in one hand as she moved to the music. Beca on the other hand stood mostly still, concentrating on drinking as fast as she could in the hopes of loosening up a bit. She wanted to enjoy her time with Emily, but public gatherings of this magnitude made her uneasy.

As Beca stood in one corner of the room, a few of the Bellas passed by and chatted with her for a few minutes before taking to the dance floor with Emily and later dispersing. Beca continued to drink and watch as they all danced, praying that no frat boys--or boys, period--would attempt to chat her up.

After a few songs, Emily returned to Beca’s side, smiling as she studied her girlfriend’s serious expression.

“Want another drink, Bec?” She asked, glancing at Beca’s empty cup.

“No, thanks I’m—”

Before Beca could decline, Emily sped away, returning a moment later with a cup of something in her hands. With a lopsided smile, Beca received the cup and took a careful sip of the liquid inside, almost doing a spit take as the taste of at least three different kinds of alcohol mixed together touched her tongue.

“Oh my God, what is this?” She asked, staring into the cup.

“…I don’t really know. The guy making drinks just threw a bunch of alcohol in there and handed it to me,” Emily confessed, downing some of her own drink. “C’mon, it’ll help you loosen up! I think...”

Beca tapped the rim of the cup against her lip, a pensive expression on her face. “Wait a sec… aren’t you… not old enough to be drinking? Legally, that is.”

Emily looked down at her drink and then smiled, shaking her head. “Oh, don’t worry about that. This is just water.”

Beca raised an eyebrow in disbelief and Emily took a step closer, offering up her drink. “Try it for yourself if you don’t believe me.”

Taking a sip, Beca nodded when the plain taste of water hit her tongue. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I didn’t--”

“Hey, it’s okay!” Emily said, spontaneously kissing Beca on her cheek. Beca’s face turned bright red at the contact. “I think it’s sweet that you’re worried about me. It’s nice to know that my girlfriend cares about me so much.”

Beca held her free hand up to cover her face in embarrassment. “Worried? Me? Psh, no, I was never worried. You do you and… um… I mean, I’m not your mom... or whatever...”

“Hehe, I know, I know.” Emily smiled and linked Beca’s arm with hers. “C’mon, dance with me while this song’s still on!”

Beca looked at her with a pained expression and Emily cocked her head, trying on a sad expression of her own.

“Please?”

It took Beca .01 seconds to fall for Emily’s sad puppy dog eyes.

“Dammit, fine.” Beca quickly finished her drink and joined Emily among the other partiers.

As they danced to a mix of Top 40, electronica, and various other upbeat genres, Beca could feel the alcohol kicking in. The room started to spin a bit and the people around her became blurred, but Emily remained in focus. Beca smiled up at her girlfriend who smiled back so effortlessly.

Emily, Emily... how did she get so lucky? Emily was a ray of sunshine on a cold, dreary day and Beca was that dreary day that needed a bit of sun, no matter how hard she might have protested.

Beca took a few steps closer to Emily, feeling so much in that moment. Her lips parted and she took a deep breath, prepared to tell Emily how she felt. Before she could, however, the music shifted from electronica to a slower tempo 80s tune. Beca rolled her eyes at the timing of it all and tried to hide the smile creeping up on her lips as Emily bowed comically and held out her hand.

“May I have this dance?”

Beca giggled at Emily’s exaggerated display. Giggled? What was Emily doing to her?

“Of course,” Beca replied sheepishly. She placed her hand in Emily’s and effortlessly the taller girl whisked her towards the center of the makeshift dance floor. Placing her other hand on Beca’s hip, Emily led them back and forth amongst a few other couples who looked confused about the music playing.

As they danced, the only thing on Beca’s mind was Emily. She followed her girlfriend’s lead, narrowly missing stepping on her toes a couple of times. It didn’t help that the floor appeared to be spinning beneath her.

“You’re a... really good dancer,” Beca mumbled lamely. Really? That was the best she could do? She would have to work on her compliments at some point, Beca thought. Nevertheless, Emily’s features brightened at the compliment.

“Aww, you mean it? Thanks, babe!”

Emily wrapped her arms around Beca’s waist and pulled her into a hug. Letting her excitement get the better of her, Emily lifted Beca up for a second before gently placing her back on solid ground. She kept Beca in her embrace, sighing contentedly as Beca gently hugged her back. Emily could have stayed that way forever, but then she remembered what she’d said a moment earlier.

“It’s okay that I called you ‘babe’, right?”

Beca looked up, confused at first, then offered Emily a lopsided smile. It was more than okay, but even tipsy Beca wanted to maintain her cool exterior.

“Yeah, sure, whatevs,” Beca replied.

Emily smiled knowingly and continued to sway back and forth with Beca in her arms. She looked down at her girlfriend, intrigued and a little bit puzzled by the fact that Beca was now hugging her tightly, as if letting go would mean losing each other.

“You okay, Beca?” Emily asked.

Beca looked up into her girlfriend’s eyes and felt her breath catch in her throat. The way the room’s dim lighting happened to shine down made Emily look ethereally beautiful. It must have been the booze, Beca thought, that was magnifying her feelings and leaving her speechless. Wordlessly she pressed her forehead against Emily’s shoulder to try and hide her reddening face.

“Aww, are you shy now? How cute!” Emily giggled. “I never thought I’d get to see Beca Mitchell so flustered.”

“Shut up, ‘m not cute,” Beca slurred. “And ‘m not flustered, I...”

Beca looked up at Emily again and stared deeply into her girlfriend’s eyes. The room continued to spin around her, but she and Emily remained in place. Emily gazed at Beca lovingly, smiling as she watched her girlfriend’s face turn different shades of red.

“You’re what?”

The sound of the other partygoers and the music continued on around them but was ignored, almost like the two of them were in a dome separated from the rest of the world. Beca’s gaze fixed on Emily’s lips, but the sudden shyness that struck her made it impossible for her to do more than stammer.

“I... um...”

The song came to an end and Beca exhaled deeply, feeling her heart beating wildly against her ribcage. Before she could attempt to calm herself down, however, another slow dance tune began. It was then that Beca became fully convinced that the DJ--or whatever moron was in charge of the night’s music--was fucking with her.

Emily noticed the scowl on Beca’s face, unsure of the exact cause. She began to fret, however, thinking it was her fault that Beca looked so upset. After all, she’d talked Beca into going and then made her stay way longer than she should have. It was her fault and Beca was upset with her. At least, that’s what Emily convinced herself of. She had to make it up to Beca somehow... she wanted to kiss that scowl off of Beca’s face.

So that’s exactly what she did.

Emily leaned down just a bit and quickly kissed Beca. It was a short, affectionate peck on the lips, but it was enough to get Beca’s attention. She looked up, wide eyed, and Emily panicked harder.

“Um, I just... you looked upset so I wanted to... I know you’re not really into PDA... I’m sorry...”

“Em, hey... it’s okay, it’s okay.”

Beca hugged Emily close once more, rubbing Emily’s back in the hopes of reassuring her. Despite the gesture, Emily bit her lip, still worried.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Beca?”

The music changed back to something more upbeat, something the other partiers had no problem dancing and grinding to. Beca ignored all of that and lowered her arms, releasing Emily from her embrace.

“I’m okay, more than okay.”

Beca took Emily’s hands in hers and looked into her eyes, aware that she would have to put into words what she’d been feeling that night, what she’d known since they had decided to become girlfriends. A frat house wasn’t the most romantic place to confess her true feelings, she knew, but Beca was overcome with them and they refused to stay bottled up.

“Em... I love you.”

“Beca...” Emily smiled, awestruck at her girlfriend’s admission. Her heart fluttered and now she was the one blushing in alternating shades of red. She had dreamed of this day, when Beca would let down her walls completely, but seeing it happen in real life and hearing those three words from Beca herself was indescribable. All Emily knew was that she had never been happier than in this moment.

“I love you too!”

Beca stood unsteadily on her tiptoes, wobbling for a second before leaning in to kiss Emily. After their lips parted and Beca stood firmly on the ground, the two of them looked around the room, surprised by the very active partying and drinking still going on and relieved that no one seemed to notice them. Scrunching up her nose, Emily laughed and offered her arm for Beca to take.

“I think I’ve had enough partying for one night. Want to get out of here?” she asked.

Beca exhaled loudly in relief. Without a moment’s hesitation, she linked her arm with Emily’s and they made their way off of the dance floor and back the way they came.

“Thank God. I thought you’d never ask.”

#bemily #ppfic #beca mitchell #emily junk #this ship is great i hope i did them justice

[peterjonesparker]

this is inspired by @suplosers‘s absolutely hilarious incorrect spiderman quotes. specifically, by this one, this one, and this one. also by four drink amy santiago because amy santiago is the love of my life. enjoy a very silly and short fic. oh, i also tag my wife @spideychelle-romanogers, a gem @spideychelleblessup, and the always lovely @bellamywarriorblake.

four drink michelle is forward and horny (ao3 link)

damn autocorrect

It’s only fitting that the first time Michelle drinks, she does so with Peter and Ned. They’re all in Boston for school and it’s orientation week and there are lots of frat parties going on. So, naturally, Michelle insists that Peter and Ned join her, her roommate, and a few of their new friends on their adventure to some of the frats hosting Thirsty Thursday parties.

They all pregame in Michelle and her roommate’s small double and drink vodka that tastes like death. Apparently, alcohol doesn’t really get better than that either. Which, Michelle thinks offhand, might just be a result of the fact that none of them were willing to pay more than ten dollars for a bottle. But whatever the truth may be, Michelle drinks shitty vodka, quickly, in shot glasses, so she doesn’t have to deal with the taste.

Which is how after four drinks, a very drunk Michelle is draping herself across Peter as they stand by the wall in a dark basement at one of the frat houses. He’s got an arm around her waist to steady her, and she would be upset but she honestly thinks she might need it right now. (She’s not entirely sure at the moment, honestly.)

She’s mumbling something about how Peter really should have just gone to Harvard and not MIT beause MIT is great and all but MJ’s at Harvard and then they’d be able to study together like they had in high school and she wouldn’t have to suffer through gen chem all alone. Peter’s chuckling and then he tells her that she doesn’t need his help in Chemistry because she’s a chem major and she should be the one helping him.

For some reason, that pisses her off. It’s a compliment, but it’s entirely too nice. He can’t be too nice to her or else she’s going to fall in love with him and she can’t have that happening on her watch. So she steps back slightly, pouts, and jabs a finger into his chest as she spits out, “Fuck me.”

Peter looks absolutely stunned and taken aback and his mouth opens in that silly way where you just want to smack his jaw back up to where it belongs. And there’s a blush forming on his cheeks and he’s about to say something when Michelle finally realizes her mistake. Her eyes widen and she gets out, “I mean fight me.” She giggles, hoping it seems like this was just a drunken mistake. Which, in all honesty, it was. But there was a truth to it she didn’t want him to know. “Damn autocorrect.”

Peter scrunches his eyebrows together and it’s too cute. “MJ, we are having a verbal conversation.” He starts to smile a bit, blush still present on his cheeks. But MJ wants him to stop.

“Shut up, loser.” She smacks his shoulder and pushes herself off him so at least he won’t have that to hold over her. She leans back against the wall and crosses her arms over her chest, slightly off balance and feeling like the world is spinning. Peter leans back and grabs hold of her when she starts to drift down the wall.

“It’s okay, MJ.” Peter sighs, a bit sad. “You’re drunk. It was just a mistake.” He pulls her back up so she’s standing straight and she drapes her arms back around his neck, leaning her head down onto his shoulder, even if the angle is awkward.

She pokes his nose and laughs. “Boop!” He just smiles at her, fond. “You love me.”

A smile. His eyes twinkle when he gently whispers, “I do.”

“what?” “what?”

Peter, Ned, and MJ are all crowded into her small double room. It’s Friday night and MJ’s just taken her first midterm for gen chem today and she needed to drink. So Peter and Ned came over, boxes of wine in tow, and they’ve been sitting on her freshly vacuumed floor for the past hour or so, slowly sipping wine from coffee mugs and wincing when the juice wine is too sweet.

Her roommate went to a frat party with some of their friends. MJ would have gone, but today was a lot and she’s tired and she just wants to get drunk with people she knows and not be surrounded by horny dudebros. Well, at least horny dudebros she hasn’t known since high school.

Michelle is nursing her fourth glass of the night. And she feels it. The world is slightly fuzzy and her body just wants to sway with the effort of staying upright. She also feels it in the way her body starts to heat up and she starts to just…straight up leer at Peter.

He’s talking about his physics class and how the lab is so tedious and boring and his lab partner doesn’t know anything about physics and barely goes to class so Peter ends up doing all the work. But those words just course through MJ and all she notices is the way he bites his lip sometimes and how his eyebrow floof is more tame and less noticeable today so he must have brushed it today. His eyes are a deep brown and when he looks at it, it feels like he’s seeing her. A few curls are falling onto his forehead and his hair is a bit frizzy because it was surprisingly humid today given it’s September. His jaw flexes every so often and when he drinks some of his wine his throat moves and she wants to die. He’s so fucking hot and she’s so fucking horny right now. Like, what?

Then he’s saying something about how he wishes MJ went to MIT because she’s good at science and it’d be nice having a best friend as his lab partner. Then four drink Michelle says, impulsively and out of the blue, “Yeah, we’re best friends, but I would fuck you if you asked.”

It’s so entirely unprompted that Peter has to take a few seconds to process it. But then he starts blushing and asks, a bit incredulous, “What?”

MJ feels flustered and she panics so she just blurts out, “What?” And she knows it’s not going to end the conversation and he’ll keep pressing but she’s panicking and her heart is starting to race and she feels drunk but she’s not drunk enough for this.

Then, curse his soul, Ned says amidst a mouthful of chips he’s snatched form the bag under Michelle’s bed, “You said you would fuck him if he asked.” She sends him a death glare but he just raises his eyebrows in surprise and shrugs. As if that’s all just fine. “You two are the only ones who don’t see what’s going on.”

Michelle picks at the old carpet her roommate had bought off the school’s Free & For Sale facebook page so that she doesn’t have to look at Peter (or Ned, for that matter). But if she had looked up, she would have seen the powerful blush spreading across Peter’s face as he watched her, taking a big gulp as a million thoughts race through his mind. (Oh my goodness, does MJ like me?? Is this just because she’s drunk? Does she just think I’m attractive? But what if she likes me? I hope she likes me.)

bet they’d look better wrapped around

When MJ and Peter finally do start dating over Christmas break (There was a cute exchange of gifts that ended up with MJ pushing Peter against his bedroom door and kissing him senseless. Lots of smiles were exchanged and they told everyone, excited and a little bashful, the next day of the happy news.), MJ gets…well…handsy. She just really likes her boyfriend and she really likes to show him in various ways. Various ways that involve physical affection.

Usually, she keeps it all fairly tame. Occasionally, she’ll pinch his butt or run her hands through his hair or sit on his lap and bite his ear. But generally, Michelle and Peter are fairly tame. That is, unless Michelle is drunk.

Drunk Michelle has a lot of trouble keeping it in her pants, quite frankly. A few drinks, it’s okay. But after she’s finished off her fourth drink, Michelle starts to leer at Peter and lick her lips and kiss his neck and grind against him. Peter, for his part, just blushes and plays along because he not-so-secretly loves the attention. And when he’s a few drinks in, he really couldn’t care less about the fact that Ned’s got his face in his hands and people are watching them, confused. (To everyone else, it just looks like two people drunk off their asses and leaning against each other sloppily.)

So when, after a fairly lame house party, Peter invites Ned and MJ back to his dorm to hang out so the night won’t end, MJ and Peter are draped across each other on the couch in the dorm lounge while Ned sits on a chair across from the pair. MJ is holding Peter’s hand and moving his fingers all around, entranced. Peter and Ned carry on a lazy conversation about Ned’s Spanish class.

Then, suddenly, MJ puts her hand on Peter’s cheek and pulls his face toward him. “Nice hands, dork.” She punctuates her words by squeezing tightly on the fingers she’d been playing with.

He glances down, amused and a bit perplexed. “Uh,” he chuckles as he looks back up at her eyes, which are boring into his with a strange intensity. “Thank you?”

And MJ smirks, biting her lip and letting her eyes drift down his body, which is slightly odd because she’s practically draped over it. “I bet they’d look better wrapped around my-”

“BIBLE!” Ned shouts, standing up from his chair. He lifts his hands in the air and twirls around. “WRAPPED ABOUT THE BIBLE. PRAISE THE LORD, AMEN.” Both Peter and MJ look at Ned, puzzled, before turning back to look at each other. Ned sighs, grabbing his jacket. “I don’t want to be here for any of your kinky talk. Call me in the morning after you two are done.”

Peter goes to call Ned, telling him to stay and they’re just messing around. But MJ runs her hand up his thigh before he can get the words out and then Peter is biting his lip, trying to hold back a gasp as her hand palms his dick. “Fuck, MJ.”

“I was saying about those hands.” She laughs, leaning toward him to capture his lips in a kiss.

So maybe it was best for Ned to leave. They’ll see him tomorrow, anyway.

#spiderman homecoming #spiderman: homecoming #spideychelle #michelle x peter #peter x michelle #michelle jones #peter parker #ned leeds #mj x peter #peter x mj #sh #otp: i'm just kidding i don't care #i write things #l o l #i loved the posts so much i added more words #story of my life

[awashsquid]

Next in The Death of the Moon, all of which is here. This chapter is around 2000 words and it’s overall a long saga, but I’d say we’re about 1-2 chapters from the close. Like what I did here? Leave a nice comment and make me smile! If you really like it, I have a Ko-Fi here as well.

“How’s she holding up?” Makoto stirred the dip mixture in her bowl absently, more focused on Minako’s facial expression than evenly distributing the ingredients.  The movie nights at her apartment had become almost a weekly tradition now, a means to keep all of them together even without meeting over Senshi duties.

“Good as can be expected,” Minako replied flatly, reaching for a cookie even though she knew Makoto would swat her hand away.  She did so, and the blonde responded by sticking her tongue out playfully.  “I mean, she’s honestly doing great with the leg thing, she’s too distracted by her soul having been ripped from her body,” she deadpanned, rolling her eyes at the conclusion of the sentence.

Makoto silently wondered if she should feel guilty that Haruka wasn’t angsting over her leg any more given the circumstances as Minako prattled on.  “I mean, Miss Succubus isn’t doing super well, according to Rei. Guess it’s good to know there’s a heart in there somewhere.”  She rolled her eyes as her hand dipped into her pocket, pulling out her vibrating cellphone.  “Rei says she’ll be here in five.  Ami’s just got a nasty car accident in the ER, so they need all the interns on deck and she’s gonna be late.”

The dip was spooned into its serving tray, already crowded with various vegetables and crackers. “Cool.  Take this into the living room, will you?”  She thrust the tray into Minako’s hands, causing her to fumble putting away her phone before accepting the offering.  “And don’t eat it all!” Makoto called after her, turning around to take the cheesecake bites out of the fridge.

“Holy SHIT, Mako, where did you get this TV?  It’s massive!” Minako cried, ogling the new television that easily took up half of Makoto’s wall space.

Makoto crossed her small apartment quickly and set the food on her coffee table, already crowded with other treats.  “That would be a gift from the Succubus, as you called her.”  She shrugged at Minako’s stunned expression.  “It came this morning with a little card.  She said she felt bad she never comes so she wanted to send a ‘small token of appreciation,’” she added with air quotes. Michiru’s idea of “small” was obviously much different than their own.

The Outers had been invited to the movie nights, but none had ever showed up.  Haruka had been too busy drowning in her own self-loathing, Setsuna just sent polite refusals, and Michiru had never even replied.  Minako had spitefully commented that she must have felt herself too good to even lower herself to an RSVP, but Michiru’s rather lavish gift told a different story to Makoto.  She was still debating what she was going to make and send as a thank-you of her own—she had decided on a few Petit Fours but was still tossing up different flavor combinations in her mind.

“Well.  That was nice of her.”  Minako spat out the words with difficulty, sounding about as convincing as a child who had received socks instead of games for their birthday. “She’s still a soulless squid monster though,” she muttered petulantly, crossing her arms as she flopped down on the couch.

Makoto was spared from responding when the door opened, Rei marching in and slamming it behind her. “Sorry, the line at the video store was insane,” she huffed, tossing a bag with several rented DVDs onto the floor.

Minako rolled her eyes and popped a pretzel into her mouth.  “Rei, I told you, we should just get Netflix.”

“I don’t watch TV at home, Mina, and using the service once a week, its cheaper to rent a movie overnight.”

Makoto chimed in, “Actually, Rei, my new TV came with a year free of Netflix and Hulu, so…”  She trailed off and looked at the sad plastic bag wilted on her floor, a cracked corner of a case poking out.  “I didn’t set it up yet though, so this is fine for tonight!” she finished, cracking a smile to try and diffuse the tension.

Thankfully, Rei was too distracted by the mention of a new TV to go on a diatribe about corporate greed and small businesses as she spun around to look at the appliance.  “Damn, I didn’t think she was going to do this,” she said quietly, eyes roving over the huge curved screen, currently displaying the options menu.

“Wait, you knew she was going to send me this?” Makoto asked.  “Why didn’t you warn me?  The guys showed up when I was covered in flour, I felt so bad I wasn’t prepared—”

Rei shook her head as she sat next to her on the couch.  “Michiru told me she wanted to send you some kind of thank-you gift, and she told me she wasn’t sure what, so I said maybe some DVDs or a little sound bar but this…” she trailed off, hand gesturing outward lazily. “This is just Michiru not knowing what a ‘small’ present is, I guess.”

“She didn’t have to give me anything.”  She plopped onto her ottoman and nibbled the corner off of one of her cheesecake bites. She had really just invited Michiru on principle, knowing that she would never come, but it didn’t seem right to just invite Haruka and not her too.

“Of course she did,” Mina snorted.  “Her Highness is too good to slum with us peasants, so she sends us cake from the palace instead.”  She bitterly snapped a cracker in two before popping half of it into her mouth.

“Actually,” Rei snapped back, “she doesn’t come because she knows you hate her, and she thinks everyone else doesn’t like her and we just put up with her because of Haruka, and she doesn’t want to spoil our fun. But you wouldn’t know that, because you’re too intent on looking at her as some kind of monster.”  Rei’s face was flushed, and she knew immediately that she had just betrayed Michiru’s confidence, but she was too mad to care. “You know, she’s my friend, and you bitch about her all the time, and I want you to know that she never talks about you, she actually never talks about any of you, in a bad way.  I’m sick of you bashing her.  Michiru’s not perfect, but she’s a person, and though it may shock you, she does have feelings, Mina.”

Minako had slowly been grinding what remained of her cracker to dust in her fist as Rei spoke. “Haruka has feelings too, Rei. You know, Haruka?  My best friend?  That woman who Michiru fucking cheated on?  Sorry that I care a little bit more about her because she’s not some manipulative, back-stabbing —”

“That’s enough!” Makoto roared, standing up to tower over the sitting women, the veins in her neck beginning to throb.  “Minako, Michiru just did something really nice that she didn’t have to do for me, so stop badmouthing her for a few fucking hours while you’re here.  Rei, just…calm down,” she finished lamely.  The other two shut their mouths and slunk back into their seats looking thoroughly chastised, although Rei was a little smug under her abashed expression.

“God, all you two do is fight,” Makoto muttered, flopping back down and putting her head in her hands. “Usagi would be so upset if she saw us like this.”  She had meant for it to stay in her head, but she had whispered the thought aloud accidentally.

The silence lingered heavy in the air, their shared grief thickening the room with its cloying heaviness. “I miss her,” Rei whispered, and they looked up to see her crying, mascara tears falling steadily down her face. It was the first time they had seen her really cry since the funeral, and Makoto gently put her hand on Rei’s lap.

“Me too,” she added, allowing her own tears to fall, adding unneeded salt to the half-finished dessert on her lap.

Minako stared stubbornly at the television, her eyesight going blurry from the tears she was trying to not let fall.  Rei saw this and shifted towards her, trying to be tender, thinking of what Usagi would do. “Mina, it’s okay.  It’s okay if you want to cry.  We can blackmail each other into keeping it a secret that we feel things,” she joked badly, touching her hand gently to Minako’s shoulder.  Minako jerked out of the touch, and Rei, always so resistant to fire, felt for the first time what it was like to be burned.

“You guys cry.  I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, Minako.  Fuck, none of us are fine,” Makoto added derisively.  “But we’re trying. Maybe it would be easier if we tried together instead of apart.  It’s what she would have wanted.”

“We don’t get to know what she would have wanted because she’s dead, Mako, she’s dead and she’s never coming back, and it’s —” her sentence ended with a shuddering intake of breath as her head dropped down to her chest, blonde hair falling in a thick curtain to hide her face.

“It’s not your fault.” All three whipped their heads to see Ami, who none had even noticed enter, standing with tears in her eyes.  “She’s gone, but it’s not your fault, Minako.”

Minako let out a barking laugh, and the attention turned back to her, tears now streaming freely down her face, lines of black marring her perfect complexion.  “That’s funny.  Maybe you should have gone into stand-up instead of medicine.”  No one responded.  “I told her to do whatever was necessary.  I gave her a command because that’s what General Venus was always meant for, wasn’t it?”  She glared at the ceiling, howling, “I did what you wanted, Serenity, you bitch!  I hope you’re fucking happy!  Maybe next time you should pick a better leader, or maybe wait until we’re not literally children to fucking decide that we get to give up our lives to be your- your puppets!”

Ami approached her and knelt.  “Minako, I ran the numbers, you know that.  If she hadn’t done what she did, the world would have ended.  She would have never been able to live with herself.” She sighed as her eyes looked away, seeing a battle that wasn’t there.  “She was going to do it whether you told her to or not.”

Minako slumped down, the tears falling fast and thick, dotting her leggings with dark spots.  “I know.  It doesn’t change that I was the one that gave her the order, though.”  She looked at her friends uneasily.  “If- if you don’t want me around for a while —” There was an uncharacteristic smallness, a touch of vulnerability in her voice, her self-sure veneer slipping for just a moment, the visor lowered.

Makoto said nothing, but instead crossed and enveloped Minako in a tight hug, which caused her to start sobbing in earnest again.  “You- are- the worst hugger, Mako,” she hiccupped, burying her face into the warm shoulder in front of her.  “Your hugs- make- me- cry.”

“I know, I know,” she replied soothingly, stroking Minako’s hair gently, holding her the way she remembered being held by her mother as a child, trying to convey love through just her embrace as her mother had done.  She felt Ami scoot closer and envelop Minako on the left, and after a moment of hesitation, Rei rounded out the embrace on the right, her still slightly warmer than average body temperature adding extra warmth.  They allowed themselves to cry and to mourn separately, each thinking of what they missed about Usagi the most, each thinking of what they wish they had said to her, and they held each other tighter for all of it, the silent acknowledgement that they would never have to deal with it alone.

Outside the full moon rose, its light shining gently through the window and touching the four women with its shine.

#the death of the moon #my writing #sailor moon #fanfiction #moon death au #makoto kino #minako aino #rei hino #ami mizuno #SPOILERS FOR THE END OF THIS CHAPTER #before anyone asks yes usagi is really dead no she is not coming back magically #but there's something to be said for loved ones watching over us from afar and that's the vibe in the last line there