#(( Really gotta get the IC posts back on track I apologize

[scrybe-of-tech-p03]

Smug Stoat

[verycoolusername1]

Don't think you understand

Summary: Quinn can't get ahold of his feelings, which leads him to push you away unintentionally.

Track 8 of short n' sweet - dumb & poetic

Warning! Slight miscommunication

A/N: This does have a happy ending :) and it's short. I apologize for that!! I just wanted to post something for the short n sweet masterlist(been delaying it)

And I gave you guys a bridgerton love confession kinda so enjoy that lmao

You haven't talked to him in weeks. The man was your best friend and you haven't talked to him in two months, how did this even happen?

Hmm, maybe when you had confessed your feelings to Quinn around the same time, you left without an answer, analyzing the blank look on his face, bringing enough of one for you.

This was your fifth tub of ice cream in two weeks, while on a call with Luke(and Jack, who also joined the supposed gossip session).

"Wait, so let me get this straight." Jack said, collecting his thoughts. "You told him you were in love with him, and he didn't say anything or have any reaction which led to you two not talking anymore?"

"Well, it certainly helps hearing it out loud." You grumbled.

"Sorry! I just need to recap so I know why I have to slap him when I next see him." Jack mutters the last part.

"You know, for him being the oldest, he sure is stupid." Luke chuckles.

"Pretty sure I'm the stupid one here, I mean, I thought he actually liked me back." You smiled Sadly.

"You think he doesn't like you in that way?" Jack asked, you nodded.

"Yeah, no, Quinn's definitely in love with you, Y/N. Have you seen the way he looks at you? The way his eyes seem to shine brighter when he talks about you." Luke shrugged.

"Okay, now you guys are feeding into my delusions." You rolled your eyes. "I lost my best friend because I couldn't control my feelings about him. And now I'm sitting on my kitchen floor, crying to Conan Gray while eating Ben & Jerry's."

There was a sudden knock on your door. Who could that be? It was late in the night in Vancouver.

"I'll be right back guys, don't hang up." You warned.

You walked up to the door and looked through the peephole and saw the man of the house standing on the other side. You unlocked it. How could you not?

"Quinn? What are you doin-?" You were cut off with Quinn kissing you passionately. You melted in the kiss before slowly breaking apart.

"I'm in love with you too." Quinn confessed. "I think I've been in love with you the moment I saw you falling off the swing when we were kids, if I'm being honest. It's very easy to fall in love with someone as special, charming, kind, heartless, caring, and comforting as you. I can't imagine being with anyone else other than you. And I don't even want to think about how sorry I am for not realizing it until now. But I love you Y/N, and I don't think I can ever stop - No, I know that I can't and won't."

Now it your time to be in shock.

"I understand if I'm too late, I just wanted you to know. I'm sorry for kissing you. I just wanted to know what it felt if it was the only time -" You cut Quinn off by kissing him.

"I love you too." You whispered. "Gosh you're so dumb and poetic."

Quinn chuckles. "What does that even mean?" He followed you into the house.

"Y/N!!! Did you get kidnapped? Omg Luke what if we gotta call the cops and tell them what happened and we gotta tell them she was crying about our idiotic brother-"

"Jack shut up." Luke looked at his brother bewildered.

"I'm just saying, could be a possibility." Jack mutters.

"I'm not dead guys." You picked up the phone.

"Y/N! You're alive. What happened? Who was at the door?" Luke asked, Jack chuckling behind him.

"Oh you know just this really hot guy." You answered simply.

"Okay? How hot was he? Is he gonna make you get over Quinn?" Jack asked.

"Very hot and no." You answered.

Quinn came into frame behind you, kissing you on your neck.

Jack and Luke's jaw drops. "No way!" "What the hell?"

"There are children present in this conversation, you guys are disgusting." Jack gestured to Luke who shoved him in response. "I'm 21!"

"Bye guys." Quinn hung up the phone.

"That was rude, you know." You looked back at him.

"I know, I just wanted to kiss you without them bickering." Quinn mumbles.

"And to think I was just crying over you not too long ago." You recalled.

"I'll make up for every tear you shed for my stupidity, I promise." Quinn's nose brushes yours.

"I know you will." You leaned in closer.

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

The Gym Membership - Part 31 (Crosshair)

Summary: Layla tries to make amends

A/N: Hello Lovelies,

Thank you all for joining in on the 450 Follower celebration, so far it's been really well received. Which surprised me and really touched my heart. The celebration is still going, until April 2nd or until all the prompts have been used at least once. Anyway, I'm back to posting, and working on new fics and materials. Enjoy.

Love oo

Italics - inner thoughts

Warnings: Guilt, apologies, irritations, making amends. If I miss any warnings, please let me know.

AO3 Link   |   Words: 1,171   |   PREVIOUS - -> NEXT

Gym Membership Master List  |   Main Master List

Waves of guilt hit me as he grabbed his cup and walked out, I closed my eyes trying to calm my racing heart. There were so many things I needed to apologize for; I’d been meaning to call him for a long time and arrange a time for us to sit down and talk. 

Even the girls really were trying to encourage me to lift up the phone and dial, Mel kept trying to tell me he wasn’t as scary as he appeared, and he’d even be more understanding than I expected. Which was true, something I realized the day we lost Avery, and realized how wrong I was about him.

Come on Layla, you gonna be a coward again and let your own guilty conscience beat you down? I grabbed my cup and rushed out after him. 

“Crosshair, wait!” I called out to him rushing after him towards the parking lot. Of course, as always when you’re in a hurry, that’s when everyone in the tri-state area feels it’s important to drive right in front of me. Through the myriads of cars, I could see him walking further away, I needed to apologize for my own piece of mind. I wanted us to be on better terms. 

“Crosshair!” 

I shouted at the top of my lungs, hoping my voice would carry over the cars driving past, God! Why were there so many cars all of sudden! I watched as he stopped in his tracks, turning back to look at me, a quizzical expression on his face. 

He’d arrived at his car, when he heard his name being called, he turned to see Layla jittering in her spot, waiting for the opportune moment to cross the street. He covered his mouth by taking a sip of his coffee, as a small chuckle escaped his lips. She really reminded him of a squirrel, the way she kept looking ready to cross the street and then holding back. Eventually, after moments of negotiating she managed to run across and catch up with him.

“I’m glad you waited” my words came out rather quickly, I wasn’t one for running, and I’d been out of my workout routine for several months now, but jogging across the street should not have caused me to run out of air that much. Lord, I needed to hit the gym again. 

“What’s up, Layla?” It’s not that he minded her really, it’s just his bad mood from that morning was still lingering, and the last thing he wanted to do was say the wrong thing, because he was irritated. 

“Right. Straight to the point. I …” I let out a chuckled sigh, my heart felt like it was going to pound its way right out of my chest. Okay, I get it. I gotta hit the gym, just calm down. I tried to tell my heart, and my nerves that seemed to be jumping out of their own accord, “I wanted to apologize to you.”

Cross shook his head as a smirk appeared on his lips, “Layla, you already got me the ice and a new cup of coffee, it’s all good.” He turned to open his car door when her hand slammed against the door. 

“No. I owe you a real apology for … for everything!” I looked into his eyes, hoping he could feel my sincerity. 

He leaned against his car, his hand carding through his hair, “Layla, what the hell are you talking about?”

I stepped closer to him, “For everything. For the way I treated you from the first day I met you, to every time I cursed you in my head. I know …” I cleared my throat as it started to tighten, “I knew it was never your fault with regards to what happened to Avery. None of it was your fault. I …” I rubbed my forehead, my well planned and thought out apology was quickly falling apart in front of me, “what I’m trying to say, is that I am incredibly sorry about everything. About how I treated you, how I made you feel, and about everything I’ve ever said to you. I know you loved my sister, that was very evident. I also know you were grieving and trying to deal with everything in your own way, I just … I never stopped to think about how you were feeling. I’m sorry.”

He leaned further against his car, he didn’t say anything as he let her words sink in, well if they were going to be doing apologies … he rubbed the back of his neck, tilting it from side to side hoping to uncurl the kink there. “Listen, you’re not the only one who should be offering an apology. I’m ….I’m sorry too. I was cold, distant and annoyed with you, partly because you weren’t her, partly because Avery was lying there, but mostly because I … I didn’t deserve to be there.”

“What! Of course, you did. You were her husband, you guys loved each other.”

“No. We … we may have loved each other as best friends, I mean I was always happy to see her, to talk to her, to touch her and feel her, but she deserved better than me. I think if she hadn’t been injured once we got back State-side we … we probably would’ve been divorced by now. Still on talking terms, maybe the occasional bed buddies, but not married. I didn’t deserve to be the one by her side, she deserved a better man.”

“Cross, did you make her happy? While she was alive, did you make her happy?”

“I tried my best to.”

“Then you are exactly the man she deserved. Even if you didn’t think you deserved to be there, she believed that you did.” 

I let out a sigh as I leaned against the car beside him, “I never told you, but she was excited to introduce you to me, she couldn’t wait to tell me all about this amazing sniper she was seeing.” Tears welled up in my eyes as I thought back to Avery, “Truth is, I was angry with you because you got to spend more time with her. Especially her last days. All my interactions with her, especially the last several months, were either letters, phone calls or emails. Even if she was going to be back State-side, she wouldn’t be by my side 24/7, she would’ve gone to see her friends, you … it’s just … our last conversation wasn’t much of a conversation. Not to mention, I kind of yelled at her.”

The warmth from the coffee eased the tension in my shoulders and heart as I took a look sip, “Listen Cross, at the end of the day we both loved her, and who knows maybe you’re right.” I shrugged, “Maybe you guys would’ve gotten divorced when you spent more time together in a more ‘normal-ish’ surrounding, but you were there when she needed you, and I’m glad you made her happy while you could.”

AO3 Link   |   Words: 1,171   |   PREVIOUS - -> NEXT

Gym Membership Master List  |   Main Master List

@justanothersadperson93​ @liadamerondjarin​ @badbatch-simp24​ @spicymcnuggies​ @lady-ren​ @firstofficerwiggles​ @darkangel4121​ @discofern​ @kavecika​ @monako-jinn-stories​ @ladykatakuri​ @avathebestx​ @theroguesully​ @furyhellfire66​ @carodealmeida​ @ciramaris​ @sprout-fics​ @twinkofthedink​ @dindjarin-mandalorian​ @clonethirstingisreal @crosshair-is-the-superior-clone @totallyunidentified @griffedeloup

[othernicknameisgaslighter]

Fists over Feelings S3 - pt. 15

(Cross posted on Wattpad and AO3)

__________⁅⁆⁅⁆__________⁅⁆⁅⁆__________⁅⁆⁅⁆__________⁅⁆⁅⁆__________

~Now I wanna be yours~

Prev - Next Chapter

The soft pour of rain pattered against the living room window. It comforted Trixie as she scrolled on her phone, chuckling at whatever she was looking at before a text message interrupted her doom scrolling.

Miguel: Heyyy So… Can you come outside? Please She frowned at the weird message before grabbing an umbrella. Trixie trudged outside to see the rain was still pouring down hard. She spotted Miguel looking around with an umbrella of his own as well as a bag of… Something?

“Miguel?” Trixie called and Miguel snapped his head to where Trixie stood.

“Trixie! Um, I-I… Well, I guess I’ll just give it to you.” He said, handing her the bag with a bashful look on his face.

Trixie looked into it and smiled as she saw the tub of bubblegum ice cream and… A Dahlia Apple Blossom bouquet. “Thank you, Miguel.” She grinned, “These are… Really pretty.”

“Not as pretty as you.” Miguel complimented and Trixie looked away with a red face and a swarm of butterflies in her stomach.

“Is this your way of apologizing?” Trixie asked, looking back at him. Now it was Miguel’s turn to look away.

“Well… It’s one way.” He said, look straight into her eyes with a sigh, “Look, I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend or friend to you in the past. In fact, I’ve been horrible. A jerk and an idiot to ever let someone like me hurt someone as amazing as you.” 

Miguel dropped his umbrella on the ground to take both of her hands. “I’m sorry, I really am and you don’t have to forgive me because I know you always will. I shouldn’t be forgiven at all in fact. I don’t deserve someone like you, I know.”

Trixie felt her face warm as Miguel clutched her hands desperately. “And I’m not here to grovel or beg to get you back because you have no right to watch me do that. I just… I just want a chance to redeem myself because I was such a pussy.” He confessed. Rain started to seep into his hoodie and drip down his hair onto his face. “It’s okay if you say no, it’s your choice… It’s the least I could give you after all.”

“Thank you, Miguel. I… Really appreciate that.” Trixie’s heart burned and her stomach fluttered as she brushed his wet hair out of his face with a small smile, eyes flickering down to his lips. “Did you do this because you knew it’d remind me of a rom-com? Because it sure feels like one.”

“I-I know, I know, it’s kind of cheesy. But, y’know, usually they makeup and kiss at the end.” He said before adding, “Only- Only if you want to that is- That was kind of stupid for me to say- I don’t even-”

Trixie interrupted him by placing a hand on his mouth. “Well, one thing you should know about me is that sometimes rom-coms make me a bit angry.” She told him, lifting her umbrella to allow him under with her, “I’ll forgive you, but I won’t forget. Unlike the movies, you’ve gotta work for it… I can’t let what happened happen again.”

The guilt of breaking Trixie’s heart felt like a weight that clung to Miguel’s chest, heavy and constant. Knowing he’s the reason for her hurt, her quiet moments of sadness. ‘I’ve never seen my sister cry like that in my life’ Patrick’s voice echoed in his head.

Miguel swallowed, “I promise, I’ll try. No, I… I will. I’ll… I’ll be good enough for you.” He said.

Trixie smiled, cupping his face, “You don’t have to put me on a pedestal, y’know? We’ve both made mistakes.” She said quietly before pulling away, “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Well, I suppose tomorrow’s my trial?” He asked with a grin and Trixie rolled her eyes.

“We’ll see. But I’m not gonna track your points for you, Diaz.” She said before ruffling his damp hair, “Also, you’re soaking wet.”

“Oh, right.” Miguel seemed to mentally face-palm as he picked up his umbrella from the ground, “I’ll… See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, see ya.” Trixie said with a slight flutter in her stomach as she went back inside with the bag of gifts.

_____________________________________________________

“What's up, Miguel?" A random guy greeted, high fiving him. 

"Hey. What's up?" Miguel replied before seeing Demetri, a confused look on  his face. Dimitri had a cast on from the… Incident from a while back ago.

 "Hey, the Comeback Kid! Welcome back." Demetri greeted Miguel enthusiastically. "I hope to make a similar triumphant return to the land of the mobile appendage masses." He said, holding up his arm. 

"What's up with the cast?" Miguel asked curiously. 

"Proximal radius fracture." He said. Yasmine walking over. 

"It smells." She stated, lips pursed. Miguel cast Demetri a confused look.

 "I put a lemon rind down there to mitigate that. The invitation for you to sign it still stands." Dimitri said, getting a sharpie out of his pocket. 

Yasmine made a small humming sound. "Hard pass." She said, looking at him. "At least when you used to be a thorn in my tits, you were getting me an A in science. Now you can't even do that because you're defective." She said sassily before  walking away, leaving the two.

Demetri looked behind Miguel to wave. Trixie waved back, coming from behind Miguel. “Heyyy.” She smiled. It’d been a while since Demetri had seen a genuine smile on her face, especially one as bright as hers currently. Trixie turned to Miguel. “So, you’re back?”

Demetri looked between the two of them, shooting Trixie a look. She shrugged and he thought before nodding. Even if they were ‘enemies’, it didn’t mean they still couldn’t read each other’s facial expressions. They were friends before, what was stopping them now?

“Yep, back and better than ever.” Miguel smiled.

Trixie turned to Demetri with a concerned expression, “How’s your arm doing?” She asked and Demetri shrugged.

“It’s fine. Thanks to you I didn’t have to suffer as long as I would’ve.” He smiled and Trixie nodded.

“It’s the least I could do, I have morals after all.” She said, still fuming from what had happened at the abandoned laser tag arena.

“How’d you break your arm anyways?” Miguel asked and Trixie and Demetri both shot each other's looks before the taller boy’s gaze fixed on Miguel again.

“We’ve got a lot to catch up on.” He muttered.

_____________________________________________________

Demetri got his lunch tray to balance on his casted arm, watching it to make sure it didn't fall. His elbow hit Kyler, knocking him forward. Kyler turned and looked at him. "Oh, crap." Dimitri muttered.

 Kyler looked at him up and down. "Oh, you thought I was going to knock down your tray? Come on, man. I'm better than that." He took the tray from Dimitri, his voice soft. Kyler then threw it into the trash. "Hey, what else do you need help with? Want me to sign your cast? Say no more." 

“Hey, leave him alone.” Trixie stepped up beside Demetri, her arms crossed with an unimpressed look. “C’mon, sit down before you lose your spot, Kyler.”

“Woahhhh calm down, baby.” Kyler said with a sweet smile, still signing Demetri’s cast, “If you want me to sit down with you just say so~.”

“You wish.” Trixie scoffed.

“Oh, c’mon… But hey, watch this.” Kyler smiled, “Guys, check this guy out! Standing around with a dick in his hand." Kyler yelled, getting everyone's attention. He was holding up Demetri's arm to show the art he did on the cast. 

All the students were laughing. Demetri pulled away from Kyler and walked out. Trixie twisted Kyler’s arm. “Hey! Cut that shit out.” She said, twisting his arm as he winced hard. “You don’t have a place in Cobra Kai yet so don’t act like you own the place.”

“Ouch, alright, alright, baby I was just joking’!” He exclaimed.

Trixie shoved her hand off of his wrist, wiping it on her pants before going over to her lunch table. “Pussy.” She whispered under her breath as the lunch room’s laughter died down to a chatter.

“Hey, uh, Trixie.” Miguel gripped the blue haired girl’s shoulder. She turned to look at him. “Did you… Wanna eat lunch together?” He asked.

Trixie thought for a moment, turning to look at Hawk. Her red mo-hawked friend looked up and saw the two together, he seemed a bit upset before giving her a ‘Honestly just go’ look before laughing with the other Cobra Kai’s.

She turned back to Miguel with a smile, “Y’know what? That… Sounds really good right now.” Trixie and Miguel walked out of the lunchroom together to eat somewhere away from the chaos.

They sat down in the courtyard outside together, laughing and talking with each other like… Old times. “So… Does this earn me points, too?” Miguel asked and Trixie chuckled.

“I said I wasn’t keeping track, Miguel.” Trixie rolled her eyes with a smile, “Try harder, Diaz. Like I said, you gotta work for it.” 

“Meh, I tried.” Miguel shrugged, taking a bite out of his apple.

_____________________________________________________

 Miguel was walking through the halls of the school, walking past Hawk and a few other Cobra Kais. It seemed as if they were missing Trixie... Hawk and Miguel locked eyes, both losing their smiles. There wasn't anger in their eyes, just… Disappointment. 

All of a sudden, Sam bumped into Miguel. "Oh, I'm s-" She started when Miguel cut her off.

 "I'm sorry Sam.' He said as he looked at the girl. 

"No, I should've been watching where I  was going." She said in a rushed tone. 

"Me too." Miguel answered, smiling a bit. Sam gave a nervous sounding chuckle. 

"So,uh, congratulations on being back on your feet! Literally." Sam smiled brightly at him with a small chuckle. 

"Thanks." Miguel smiled at her.

 "Anyway, I'll let you get back to your friends." She gestured to the Cobra Kai boys. 

"They're not my friends anymore. Not after what they did to you guys." He told her in a soft voice. Sam had a pleasantly shocked look on her face. Her lips curled into a smile. 

"I should probably get to study hall." Miguel told her after a moment of silence.

 "I'm actually headed that way too." Sam said with a small giggle. 

"Okay." Miguel smiled. The two walked together as Sam thought for a moment before speaking up.

“So… How’re you and Trixie? I mean, the… Incident affected her badly so I would assume that she’s happy you’re back, right?” Sam asked and Miguel nodded.

“I’ve been trying to make it up to her after what happened at the party. She’s been making me work hard for her forgiveness but I deserve it.” He explained with a bittersweet smile, “What about you? Are you guys still upset at each other or…?”

“Well, you know how hard it is to stay mad at her.” Sam shrugged with a smile, “I guess we’re… Sort of cool with each other. She’s not really like the other Cobra Kai’s…” (sHe’S nOt LiKe OtHeR gIrLs)

“Yeah, I… Guess she isn’t.” Miguel said with a soft smile. Sam’s smile dropped as she saw a familiar blonde and brunette making out against the wall by the gym door.

“Yasmine?!” Sam exclaimed. Yasmine immediately pushed herself off of the boy with the broken arm and widened her eyes.

“Hey. Um… We were just, uh…” Demetri’s voice trailed off, clearly dazed from the heavy makeout session with Yasmine.

“Doing study work.” Yasmine exhaled heavily. Demetri agreed but he definitely wasn’t fazed by the two in front of him.

“So you two are…” Sam’s voice trailed off.

“What?” Yasmine chuckled nervously, a panicked expression taking over her face. “Ew. Ew! No. Like I would ever date this freak.” She looked back at Demetri with a bashful look before speed-walking away faster then when she got that wedgie from Aisha.

“Whatever, Cruella. Why don’t you kill a bunch of dalmatians?” Demetri called after her, finally playing along with their ‘not dating’ status. He turned to them. “I am 101% in love.” He sighed, walking away.

Sam chuckled, “I can’t believe that just happened.” She smiled, awestruck.

“Yeah, I guess, uh…” He turned to Sam, “If they can get together… Maybe I could make amends with Trixie.”

Sam’s smile widened and she nodded happily, “Honestly, yeah, you’re right. I mean, love conquers all.” She walked with Miguel to class.

_____________________________________________________

Trixie had been a dancer her entire life—or so it felt. She started ballet at the age of ten, captivated by the elegance. Every pirouette and plié became second nature as she devoted her childhood to perfecting her technique. 

But the love she once felt for dance had been replaced by fatigue, frustration, and the overwhelming need to be perfect.

It was depleting her mental health rapidly. So, she quit. Karate had been her main focus, her top priority, and she fell back into the habit of putting her hobbies before herself.

So, here she was. Down in the studio to try out dancing once again. Weirdly enough, her muscles remembered. Slowly, the movements came back to herp the rise and fall of a tendu, the sweep of an arm in port de bras. It wasn’t perfect, but it was still there. 

Trixie felt… Proud of herself. One of the only times in her life she felt proud of her achievements. Her parents had embedded the thought into her that it didn’t matter what she did to be better than everyone else, as long as she was in first place, no one would care. And they were right… But she cared. Wasn’t that enough?

[nadisabug]

Take On Me

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson! reader

Warnings: terribly written, I apologize, cannon divergence (smol divergence), song fic?????

Summary: Y/n won’t believe that The Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington likes her. 

A/N: aaahhhhh okay so I woke up at seven am and this song was playing and I had a fever dream idea for a fic so it’s terrible no beta we die like men

"Wanna go to the movies sometime?"

I was mid-bite in my ice cream when Steve "The Hair" Harrington popped the question. I slowly backed away from the ice cream and stared at him dumbfoundedly.

He was leaning on the register, his bicep prominent and flexed. He had lost the cap he usually wore, and even though he had probably been wearing it all day, his hair still looked good. He was flashing me a drop dead gorgeous smile and his eyes were almost sparkling.

Gods I was fucked.

This wasn't the first time he had asked me out by any means. He had been hinting at it every time we saw each other for the past half year. This was the first time he was so up front about it, though. Usually I could act stupid and brush it off.

I hid the heat creeping up on my cheeks by digging in my purse. I grabbed a wad of bills and slapped them on the counter.

"Sorry, I got to go pick up Dusty from AV club," I smiled tightly, lying through my clenched teeth. "Keep the change." And with that, I nearly ran from Scoops Ahoy ice cream. I left so quickly that i didn't see Dustin, my brother, popping out from behind the counter.

"Dude, sorry. You'll get her next time," Dusty sighed.

"Next time?" Steve scoffed. "Buddy, there will be no next time."

"Come on, she likes you I swear," Dusty pleaded.

"Sure didn't look like it," Robin piped in. She was sitting on the passway holding a white board that said 'Steve Sucks' with 17 check marks below it and 'Y/n said yes' with no check marks below it. "I think that one counted for two," she announced, adding two check marks to the 17.

"Shut up Robin," Dusty snapped. He turned back to Steve. "Please Steve you gotta believe me!"

"Okay, okay, fine Henderson," Steve sighed collapsing on the ice cream counter. "Then why does she keep blowing me off?"

Dusty smiled. "For that, we do some recon."

~~~~~~~

I was laying on my bed when I heard a knock on my door. I looked up from the book I was reading.

"Momma?" I called curiously.

"No! It's your favorite brother," Dusty announced, throwing open the door. I smiled and put my book on the night stand.

"Indeed it is. To what do I owe this pleasure," I sat up and patted the bed next to me.

Dusty graciously threw himself into the bed and smiled up at me. "A brother can't want to talk to his only sister who he loves?"

I raised an eyebrow at that. Dusty was always so bad at lying. "Spill, now," I ordered.

Dusty sighed and slumped down. He cursed under his breath - which I chose to ignore under the circumstances- and then looked up at me again.

"Steve told me he likes you. Like a lot."

At that confession, I hopped off the bed, turning away to hide my blush. I had just blown Steve off now here Dusty was telling me Steve likes me? Something was off.

"Since when did Steve trust you enough to tell you that kind of stuff?" I questioned, towering over Dusty who was still sitting on the bed.

"Well we've been hanging out." Dusty couldn't even maintain eye contact with me. He was hiding something.

"Where were you today after school?"

"AV clu-"

"Oh my gods you were at Scoops Ahoy." I slapped my hands over my face and turned around to hide my shame.

"No I wasn't!" Dusty tried to cover his tracks, but it was already too late.

"Dusty, there is no AV club today." The pieces clicked together in my mind. "Oh my gods Steve knows I lied to him."

"Yeah! Which really hurt him because he likes you!"

"No he doesn't Dusty!" I threw myself face first onto the bed and screamed.

"Yes he does! He's literally asked you out so many times."

I twisted, propping myself up on my elbow so that I could look at Dusty. "That does not mean he likes me."

"How so?" Dusty huffed and folded his arms.

"Because, Dusty, he's Steve 'The Hair' Harrington, he probably just wants to get back at Nancy for ditching him for Will's brother."

"What? No," Dusty scoffed.

"Yeah," I nodded. "She left him for The Freak so he's going to date The Psycho Bitch."

Dusty got a soft look of his face for a moment. "Is that what they call you?"

"Doesn't matter Dusty. What matters is that Steve doesn't actually like me. He just thinks he does because he's torn up about Nancy."

Dusty thought for a second. "What if he proved it to you?"

I looked at Dusty. "What do you mean?"

"What if he actually proved to you that he really did like you?"

I shrugged. "Then I'd date him and losing Dart won't come and bite us in the butt."

"Really sis you had to bring that up?"

"He ate Mews," I whisper yelled, careful in case Mom heard.

"About that, we finished translating the message, come on," he rolled off the bed, grabbing my arm and pulling me over in the process.

"Ow! No I can't!"

"Why not?"

"I can't see Steve after lying to him like that!"

"Oh just come on, he'll forgive you. He's madly in love with you."

I doubted that but I went with Dusty anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After everything we went through, we had a moment to pretend like everything was okay. The middle school dance.

I was upset that Dusty insisted that Steve take him to the dance and not me, but I knew they had something like a brother bond so I wan't too upset. I volunteered to be one of the high schooler chaperones, mainly under Joyce's wishes. She wanted at least someone there to watch Will like a hawk. Or two.

So Nancy and I were here. At the punch table.

"So, how's college going," Nancy piped up.

I had to be honest, I didn't really like her. Not with the way she broke Steve's heart. But I had to remain cordial. I guess.

"Good."

"I heard you got scholarships."

"It was the only way I could go."

"Yeah. With the.... deaths..." she said carefully, "at the Hawkins Post, they're hiring again. So Jonathan and I got our jobs back."

"That's great." I paused. "Not the deaths, the getting jobs back."

"Yeah."

We lapsed into silence after that.

I scanned the room to see that the boys had split off to dance. Some girl was dancing with Will, Mike was dancing with El, and Lucas was with Max.

Dusty wasn't with them though.

I looked around the room to see him sitting on the bleachers holding back tears. My heart lurched at the sight.

"I'm going to go dance with him," Nancy announced. I was about to let her when I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I grabbed Nancy's arm.

"Wait," I ordered. I saw a girl with visible braces wearing a baby blue dress approach Dusty. He immediately perked up and held out his hand for her. She took it and they walked to the dance floor.

"Nice call," Nancy smiled.

I just dropped her arm, nodded, and turned away to watch them.

After a couple of hours, the kids started leaving one by one. Around the time we were at half capacity, Dusty came up to me.

"May I have this dance?" He awkwardly bowed with his hand outstretched. I had to stifle a giggle.

I looked at Nancy. She waved me off. "Go ahead, I can serve punch."

"Of course, mi' Lord," I giggled and took his hand.

He dragged me all the way to the middle of the dance floor and began to dance with me.

"Sure Suzie won't be jealous about baby blue dancing with you?"

"She knows I only have eyes for her," Dusty rolled his eyes at the notion that she could possibly be jealous.

"Turn around," I began in a sing songy voice. "Look at what you see!"

"Oh shut up," Dusty growled and shoved me.

I laughed but kept dancing with him.

At that moment the song changed, and Dusty smiled. My back was to the stage so I couldn't see what was going on, but I assumed it was just the band preparing.

As soon as I heard the signature synth, I squealed.

"I love this song, Dusty did you request it?"

"Sorta," he grinned.

Then I heard his voice.

"Ba ba-ba ba. We're talking away, I don't know what I'm to say, I'll say it anyway. Today's another day to find you shying away."

I dropped Dusty's shoudlers and turned around. When I did I saw Steve "The Hair" Harrington on the stage, mic in hand, singing.

Then he pointed straight at me.

"I'll be coming for your love, okay?"

"No fucking way," I whispered.

"Hell fucking yeah, get it Harrington!" Dusty cheered behind me.

"Take on me, take me on, I'll be gone in a day or two," he sang, the last word high and pitchy. It was so bad. So awfully terrible. He was making a complete fool of himself.

But I couldn't tear my eyes away.

"So needless to say, of odds and ends, but I'll be stumbling away slowly learning that life is okay. Say after me, it's no better to be safe than sorry."

It was only then that I noticed that the middle schoolers around me had parted to make a huge circle, with me at the center.

"Take on me, take me on, I'll be gone in a day or two," Steve sang even worse than the first time. Then he tossed the mic into the crowd and jumped off the stage. Then he began to dance, horribly. He did the running man, switching to the sprinkler, which then phased into a Charleston. It was so horrible but I couldn't help but smile. After the dance break, he turned to the crowd with his hand out. Miraculously, someone handed him the microphone.

"Oh, the things that you say, yeah is it life or just to play my worries way? You're all the things I've got to remember," he sang and walked towards me. I tried to take a couple steps back, but someone - most likely my beloved Dusty - shoved me forward. Hard. I stumbled and fell into Steve, who caught me.

"You're shying away, I'll be coming for you anyway." Steve clicked the microphone off and held it out to the crowd. Someone took it quickly and he brought his other arm around me. I would like to say that I tried to stand up away from him, but I didn't. I just let Steve hold me.

"Take on me..." Steve sang to me and only me. With each word he pulled my arms up and wrapped them around his neck. He then began to sway softly with the music, dancing with me. We danced as the crowd around us reformed, the middle schoolers going back to dancing. It was almost like nothing happened.

But to me everything thing did.

"Are you su-"

"Yes," he whispered.

I smiled.

"Wanna go to the movies sometime?"

Sorry not sorry Dusty deserved some one to dance with I don’t make the rules

Taglist is open! Just shoot me an ask, dm, or comment!

[captaincravatthecapricious]

Sick Fic I Didn’t Bother to Name Part 2

Basically Jon is sick post canon and Tim lives and is looking after him while Martin is at work.  See look you don't have to read chapter one!

Okay so I know we all expect my fics on Wednesday, but next week it will probably have to be early Tuesday morning.  So keep an eye out.  Wish I didn't have to switch it up, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.  

cw fever, delusions sort of? sort of flashback?, past strained friendships, I think that's it?

Jon is starting to lose track of time.  Getting lost between the seconds.  Gaping spaces where he isn’t awake enough to register what is going on or what episode he and Tim are supposed to be on.  He’s lost in the moments his gummy eyes are closed and between strained breaths.  

He knows it’s the fever.  And he thinks he knows where he is.  

He’s on the couch with Tim.  

In his and Martin’s home.  

But between blinking and the gaping chasms between one tick of the clock and the next, he finds himself in places that have been gone.  Long gone.  Burned to the ground.  Both the places and the things that occurred.  

He’s on the couch he’s on the couch.  He is on the couch.  He is using Tim as a pillow.  While Tim gently runs a hand through his curls.  It would be soothing if he wasn’t also seeing another time.  Another place.  Another Tim.  

A Tim with his face twisted in a familiar rage.  

Shoving him.  Redirecting a forgotten, graceless fall.  Legs giving way under the strain of the worst couple months of his life.  Whichever worst months those were…  Because for a while each month was the worst in a new and horrifying way.  

He is on the couch.  

He is on the couch.  

And Tim is speaking to him soothingly as his breath catches in a panic he knows is lost in time.  Out of time.  Unstuck like Billy Pilgrim.  So it goes.  

It would have been a sensible fear years ago.  

It Was sensible.  

When the exhausted slip of the tongue and static echoed off the hatred behind Tim’s eyes, ricocheting.  At least once slamming Jon against the wall when he lost control.  

And he knows he isn’t making sense.  And he knows that Tim would never raise a hand against him.  And it wasn’t as if Tim ever really did.  But he wasn’t gentle.  Touches that once-and-now mean comfort and safety then meant something too tight too rough too much and sent him into walls or to the floor or caused bruises on his stupidly sensitive skin.  

Jon is on the couch, mumbling to himself feverishly. 

Tim is worried.  Jon’s fever is up, despite the recent medication and the damp flannel on his forehead.  Tim doesn’t even think it’s too high, but Jon has always been delicate.  Or has been recently.  Tim wishes he could cast his mind back far enough to confirm that this is just the way his friend has always been, and not a recent development in the years in the Archives where the world was against this slip of a person.  

Tim tries not to think about it.  Because he can’t lose himself to regret when Jon is facing whatever his mind is throwing at him.  Even when his mind could very well be throwing the memory of a Tim that the present Tim regrets.  Guilt is something for the bottom of a bottle.  Or in the muscle cramping heat of the heavy beat pounding music and pounding feet.  Or in the thick of paint fumes and the wet splat of a brush against the walls.  

Guilt and anger are not meant for quiet moments on the couch watching over a sick friend.  Not for episodes of Avatar the Last of the Airbenders.  

No, this is how you rewrite the guilt and rage.  

He will regret and be angry with himself and the situation that is no longer the situation when he has his coping mechanisms, both constructive and self destructive.  

He soothes Jon.  With quiet reassurances and a gentle embrace, trying to gauge if Tim will have to step back to sooth, or if the words are helping, or if he should pause the show or if the familiar noise will help ground Jon.  

In another time, Jon stumbles across Tim in the break room.  Limping his way to make some tea and let that sooth the fire beneath his skin and the heavy weight of trauma.  Rubbed raw wrists.  His body failing to bounce back after kidnapping.  And the taste of static as the question he’s already forgotten pulls and answer he can’t comprehend from Tim.  

The twist of lips in a snarl.  

Jon reaching out to apologize, but Tim jerks away.  

Sending the unsteady Jon reeling.  

Tim is gone before Jon hits the ground.  Too dizzy to keep his feet.  

Jon is crying, and Tim wonders if he has grounds to blame himself.  He will anyhow, but he wonders if it is justified this time.  

But he can’t act on that sort of regret.  Substantiated or not.  This is not the time.  

“Hey, ace.”  If Jon were more lucid, he would absolutely hate the nickname.  Tim loves it.  It combines a lovely gender neutral expression with the happy double meaning of Jon’s sexuality.  Tim feels that it could serve to ground Jon to a friendlier memory.  Not to mention, well.  Okay he wouldn’t Hate the term.  But he would love to make a show of hating it.  “You with me?”  He pats Jon’s face lightly, and gently wipes away the tears.  He isn’t really sure if Jon is sleeping or hallucinating or just uncomfortable.  

Jon frowns.  He struggles with coordination enough to rub at his eyes.  Eventually he cracks open a fever glazed eye, bringing (Tim assumes) the world into whatever blurry focus he can without glasses.  

“Tim?”  Jon’s voice is rough.  Tim isn’t sure if it from congestion settling or just disuse.  

“The one and only.”  He throws in a cheeky wink.  He wants to say more, but doesn’t know where Jon is in his mind.  

A clammy hand reaches up and traces some of the scars Tim got in the unknowing.  

Tentative.  Both with the lack of clear vision, probably, and with a hesitation that Tim is fairly certain that comes with an uncertainty of where their relationship stands.  

“What?”  

Again, Tim isn’t sure if this is Jon lost in the past or just hazy on some details.  

“It’s Tuesday and Martin made you call out from work today.  Martin would have stayed, but I got off from work earlier today, so I am keeping you company.  Sasha is at work, though.  She’s probably jealous.  Uh… We’re watching Avatar.  Which you always complain about, but I know that’s just for show because I know you watch it on your own.  Oh!  And my favorite part!  The Magnus Institute has been burned to the ground!  And please don’t try to know anything, because you’re sick enough please don’t give yourself a migraine.”  

Jon doesn’t give him the typical annoyed look at over-explanations, so Tim has to guess that Jon was missing some of those details.  Jon relaxes, however.  Which is good.  Lucid enough to understand what he’s saying.  

“You back with me?”  He asks Jon.  

Jon makes a so-so gesture.  He’s stopped crying, which is good, but he’s still hesitant to relax against Tim.  

“Where had you gone?”  Tim asks against his better judgement.  

“Felt unstuck.”  Jon’s hand closes over Tim’s wrist.  Using it to cling to the here and now.  Tim understands that feeling.  

“Anything I can do?”  

“Just… be here?”

“Not going anywhere, bud.”  Tim promises.  

Being shoved.  Hitting the ground.  Curled on the unforgiving tile.  

He’s on the couch.  Tim is here, and he’s kind and solid.  

Tim is shouting.  Angry.  Biting.  Chilling words.  Bent too far to be a friend.  Twisted.  

Jon is getting dizzy from the unstuck feeling.  

Everything is spinning and he is dreadfully cold.  

Aching cold.  

But he’s afraid that every drag of his eyelids will take him back to echoing shouts and freezing tile and bruising hands.  

Jon wakes up screaming.  He tries to pull himself up, the blanket wrapped around him like restraints and he wants to be up and moving and free.  He screams when someone grabs his arms.  

Tight grip, enough to leave marks over his raw wrists.  Tim shaking him until the world upends itself and he’s on the floor.  On the floor.  On the floor.  

As Tim looms.  Angry and shouting and tall.  And Jon is so so so small.  Breakable.  In a way that no one seems to notice until he’s broken in front of them.  

He’s on the floor of his living room.  There are no bruises.  No rope burns.  

Just a precariously high fever.  Sitting crying and dizzy in the thick tangled blankets.  

Tim kneeling before him, making his posture as unthreatening as possible.  

“Jon?  Bud?  You back with me?”

Five things he can see.  Tim.  The laptop.  His cane.  The couch.  His ace ring.  

Four he can hear.  His own pounding heart.  His strained breaths.  Uncle Iroh on the laptop.  Tim’s voice.  

Three he can feel.  His sweat damp frizzed hairs plastered to his forehead.  The thick blanket that takes turns being a comforting weight and a panic inducing restriction.  Again, his heartbeat.  

Did he take his medicine this morning?  

Is he up for more medicine for his fever yet?  

The heat of anxiety is easing him back into the ice fever chills.  

Tim is reaching for him.  Offering him a hand.  Instead he tips forwards against him.  

“Back with you.”  Jon assures, finding his voice at length.  

For sure this time.  

Nothing like panic to jolt him back aware.  

Tim settles him back on the couch with care.  Presses a kiss to his forehead, and tucks him in again against the shivers.  

Jon settles back to watch another episode, Tim as his pillow once more.  

[whumpywhumper]

Trouble

No 21. I DON'T FEEL SO WELL Chronic Pain | Hypothermia | Infection

TW: Sick fic, mostly fluff 

Tagging: @misspelledwitch @insanitywishes @imagination1reality0 @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @voidwhump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @walkingchemicalfire @captivity-whump @liliability @muumimafia @fanastywhump @elisabethrosewrites @unsure-but-alive-752 @jeverest00 @texdoeshalo 

As always, special thanks to: @0idril0 @rosesareviolentlyread 

I’m spoiling you with content, it’s been months since i’ve posted this much. This is set shortly after Markus is released from the hospital, in the vague future timeline. 

Masterpost

V***V 

Markus shivered, pushing himself deeper into the couch, icy hand tucking the blanket around the exposed skin of his neck.

He really wanted to sleep. If he could sleep then maybe he’d start to feel better.

The doctors had warned him about pushing himself too hard so soon after being released, but working on one charm had rolled into the next, and before he knew it, he’d been working for hours. He had barely managed to drink some tea before the exhaustion was rolling over him. The sandwich he hadn’t even really wanted was still sitting on the coffee table, untouched.

What he really needed was sleep anyway.

He grunted, shifting on the couch to try and soothe the ache in his back and muscles. Now that he wasn’t vertical, he couldn’t find the motivation, or the energy, to get up and go to bed.

The couch was comfortable enough, usually. He would just sleep here.  

If only he wasn’t so damn cold.

Groaning, he leveraged his heavy eyelids open and found Kincaid’s blanket thrown over the back of the couch. It was a thick, lumpy crochet thing that Ben had apparently made for him years ago, and the man was ridiculously proprietary of it. Even Ben wasn’t allowed to use it without suffering from Kincaid’s damn puppy dog eyes.

Heavy eyes slid across the room, the dusk light creating shadows over the empty apartment. From what he recalled, Ben and Kincaid wouldn’t be home until tomorrow. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

Snaking his arm out into the frigid air, he snagged the soft material and pulled it over his own blanket, the heavy weight pressing him back down into the couch. Heat slowly built under the blankets, and while Markus didn’t feel any more comfortable than before, it allowed his muscles to relax.

With a sigh, he let his eyes slide back closed, eyelashes feeling glued together. Absently, he hugged himself, arms bracing his perpetually aching ribs. He took a deep breath, coughing slightly as the air tickled his throat, and rubbed his cheek against the throw pillow.

Maybe he could sleep now. Get some energy back. He would feel better in the morning.

~~

Ben unlocked the apartment door, his duffle hanging heavy on his shoulder as he made his way into the dark entryway.

Trying to be quiet, he lowered the bag to the floor and toed off his shoes. It had been a long day, and Ben was eager to get to bed even though he wouldn’t be sleeping next to Kincaid. The other officer was still on stake out, but Holland had sent Ben home.

He’d fucking fallen asleep. Twice.

Using the light of his phone, he illuminated his way into the kitchen, grimacing when the oven clock announced that it was two o’clock in the morning. He groaned lowly, rubbing at his whiskery cheeks. Grabbing a glass of water, he thought about rummaging in the refrigerator, using the microwave to heat up something, but he didn’t want to wake Markus.

They were getting along better, the witch was less wary of him now, but it was still day by day. Something about the fact that Ben wasn’t a supernatural made Markus nervous, and after everything he’d been through, it was tough to blame him.

Shuffling toward the living room, he yawned, intent on the bedroom at the opposite end. A soft, muffled whimper from the couch, however, halted him in his tracks, ice sliding down his spine.

He swung around, the dim light of the phone not doing much other than showing him an indistinct lump on the couch. Infinitely more awake than before, his hand snagged the chain on the standing lamp, the soft, yellow light flooding their apartment. Ben’s eyebrows drew together in concern when he made out the lump on the couch.

Markus’s tall figure was curled up there, somehow buried in the cushions to where only the back of his head was visible. Ben’s heart swelled when he realized that the witch was wrapped in Kincaid’s throw.The blanket was a monstrosity of yellow and white, Ben’s ill conceived hobby resulting in only the one blanket that he’d gifted to Kincaid for their second anniversary.  

It was ridiculous, not to mention inappropriate, how his heart skipped a beat and sped when he thought about Markus being wrapped in it.

Padding over on sock clad feet, Ben peered into the cocoon of blankets and frowned at what he saw. Markus’s face was flushed, color high on the apples of his cheeks, and his eyes moved rapidly under red tinged lids. Ben cocked his head, ears picking up on the slight wheeze to each of his sleep heavy breaths.

“Markus?” he questioned softly, hesitant to startle his friend. The witch barely stirred, his nose wrinkling slightly as he let out another quiet sound of discomfort. As gently as he could, Ben brushed the back of his fingers against the sleeping man’s cheek, unsurprised by the heat he found there. He tsked, frown deepening.

On autopilot, Ben moved to he and Kincaid’s bathroom, collecting the supplies he would need and snatching one of his many kits from under the sink. He wasn’t terribly worried, even though the witch hadn’t been out of the hospital all that long. Markus’s immune system was down, and the witch hadn’t been very receptive to all of their warnings about taking it easy. This was probably just a bug, but he still needed to check Markus’s injuries and see if they’d gotten infected.

Back in the living room, Markus hadn’t moved, his dark hair glistening slightly with beads of sweat. Sliding an untouched sandwich out of the way, Ben set his supplies down on the coffee table, and started rubbing Markus’s shoulder through the blankets. “Hey, Markus,” he called, voice slightly louder than before but still soft, “I need you to wake up for a minute, okay?”

Markus shifted slightly, moaning in complaint when Ben started rubbing his back a little harder. “Wake up, buddy, I need to check you out.” Green eyes creaked open to glare at him, and Ben couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Even hazy with fever and sleep, Markus’s ire at being bothered was clear. “Easy there, tiger,” he chuckled, “it’s just me.”

“Ben?” Markus mumbled, voice rough, “wha’s goin’ on?”

“Yeah, buddy, it’s me,” he answered, smiling encouragingly, “I think you’ve got a fever, I gotta check you out, make sure nothing’s wrong.”

The other man grumbled, turning his face back into the pillow. “‘M fine, just need some sleep.”

“Nuh-uh,” Ben shook his head, not allowing him to escape that easy. He brushed his fingers through Markus’s hair, pulling gently at his shoulder. “At least roll over and let me check your temp, huh? Get some ibuprofen in you.”

“Don’ wanna,” Markus groused, “‘Lemme alone, ‘m sore.”

“Yeah, I bet you are,” Ben said under his breath, reaching behind him for the temporal thermometer. As well as he could, he pressed the small device against Markus’s forehead, rolling to get an accurate read. 101.8. He winced, whistling through his teeth. “Yeahhh,” he drawled, “you’re running a fever, Bambi. C’mon,” he coaxed, pulling at the corner of the blankets. He needed to get that fever down and the only thing the blankets were doing was making it worse.

Markus shivered, whimpering softly as the cool air hit his fever warm skin. “You suck,” he whined, “it’s cold.”

“I know I do,” Ben agreed, helping Markus as the witch finally cooperated and rolled onto his back. “I’m gonna grab you some water to wash these down with, I’ll be right back.”

Throwing his arm over his eyes, the witch nodded stiffly as he clenched his jaw against chattering teeth. “Be here,” he said faintly, fisting his free hand in the corner of the blanket.  

Ben shook his head, pressing his lips together as the exposed line of Markus’s throat caught the dim light, the small, shiny scars from the bite marks standing out. The poor guy can’t catch a break, he thought darkly.

In the kitchen, he grabbed one of the chilled water bottles they had in the fridge. As an afterthought, he snagged a soft towel from their overstuffed drawer and wet it. He knew how much he hated being touched when he was running a fever, but he didn’t want that for Markus. Hopefully, the worn material wouldn’t chafe the witch’s oversensitive skin.

“Can you sit up for me, Markus?” he called, hearing a groan answer him. He returned to the witch leveraging himself up on his elbows, arms shaking as his dark hair fell into his face. Ben darted in to support Markus’s shoulders, murmuring a soft apology as his quick movement garnered a flinch. “Sorry, baby,” he murmured, the much more familiar endearment slipping from his lips as easy as breathing, “sorry, just want to help a little.”

Markus let him take over the movement, allowing Ben to brace him against the back of the couch as he sat next to him. “S’okay,” the witch sighed, “just dinn’t see you.” Their eyes met, and Markus’s placating smile wasn’t enough to hide all of the exhaustion that had nothing to do with fever and sickness.

Ben suppressed the instinctive need to soothe him, knowing it would just be taken as pity, and hummed in response. “Take these for me?” he requested, handing over a few ibuprofen. The witch grimaced, but tossed the pills back and dry swallowed with the practiced motion of one accustomed to a barrage of medications. Ben cracked open the water bottle and held it out, but one look at Markus’s shaking hands had him raising it for the other to drink.

A glassy, irritated glare was all the objection he received, so he let the bottle rest against Markus’s chapped lower lip, ignoring the way the water soothed the dry skin as he tipped it. Markus drank a few mouthfuls of the cool water, shaking his head and turning away with an exhausted sigh when he was done. “Okay, baby, just a little more, and I’ll let you go to sleep,” Ben said quietly, “Can I see those incision sites? I need to know if they’re infected.”

“Can’t get me outta my clothes that easy, Ben,” Markus slurred, eyelids firmly closed even as his lips lifted in a soft smile, “gotta at leas’ buy me dinner.”

Ben couldn’t help but laugh, his hand moving to brush the hair away from Markus’s eyes without even registering the motion. “Aw, c’mon gorgeous, you’ll make my night.”

Markus laughed, but the exhale turned into a low, grinding cough that made Ben’s smile drop into a concerned frown. The witch grimaced in discomfort, hugging his ribs as he tried to even his breathing. “Fucking hell,” Markus cursed, breaths rough in his throat.

“Yeah, okay, Bambi,” Ben soothed softly, petting through Markus’s hair again. His chest ached when the witch turned to nuzzle into Ben’s palm, the unconscious action startlingly comfortable. Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away, fingers going to the buttons of Markus’s soft flannel. Clinically, he examined his friend’s lingering injuries, moving the waist of his sweats as modestly as he could so that he could palpate the healing stab wound above his hip.  Other than a grimace at the ache, Markus didn’t show any sign of discomfort, and Ben felt himself relax when there wasn’t any sign of infection.

“I don’t think anything’s infected,” he announced softly, pulling the stethoscope from his bag, “but I’m thinking that cough is going to be our culprit.” The cool circle of the tool made Markus jump, and Ben hissed in apology. “I always forget to warn about that, sorry, pumpkin. Take a deep breath for me?”

Markus obeyed, staying limp against the couch as he took the careful, measured breaths that Ben requested. His skin was pebbling with goosebumps as the fever made him shiver, a slight sheen of sweat highlighting his pale skin. “‘M really cold,” Markus whimpered, eyes sliding open to half mast as his breath colored with the sound of a sob.

Ben’s heart broke, and he set aside the stethoscope to pull Markus’s shirt closed. “I’m done, baby, I’m sorry. I know you’re cold.” He disentangled Kincaid’s throw from Markus’s and draped the crocheted blanket back over him, tucking it around him even though he probably needed the thinner material of the other blanket. “I think you’re gonna be okay, so no ER tonight. Do you want to stay here or do you want to go to your bed?”

“Not movin’,” Markus muttered petulantly, long, dark eyelashes kissing his rosy cheeks as he seemed to sink back into the cushions.

“Gotcha,” Ben chuckled, “I’m gonna help you lay back down, okay?” Carefully, he slid his arm under Markus’s shoulders, free hand cradling the back of the other man’s head as he moved to stand and free up the space on the couch.

A hand latched onto Ben’s bicep through the blanket, and he froze when Markus’s foggy green eyes fluttered open to stare into his own. “Don’t go?” the witch breathed, the request so soft that Ben wouldn’t have been sure he heard it except for the desperate longing in Markus’s eyes.

It was impossible for his weak heart to resist.

“Okay, sweetheart,” Ben replied, settling back onto the cushion and grabbing the damp cloth he’d set aside.  Reverently, he maneuvered Markus so that he was in the circle of his arms, heart fit to burst as Markus’s cheek settled against his chest, “I won’t go anywhere.”

Gently, Ben pressed the cool cloth to Markus’s face, moving it over his heated cheeks and down to his neck. The witch sighed in relief even as another shiver stole through his body. Ben smiled sadly, knowing the contradiction of fever hot cheeks and cold aches that made your entire body sore. Absently, he pressed his lips against Markus’s hair, holding the other man as his breathing evened out into a restful sleep.

It wasn’t long before Ben joined him even with the light of the lamp pressing against his eyelids. The exhaustion of the day, the last several weeks really, catching up with him as he held his friend.

That was how Kincaid found them hours later. Ben’s legs stretched out in front of him and his cheek smashed into Markus’s hair. A gentle kiss to the forehead had Ben twitching and opening his eyes, automatically smiling as he met his lover’s gaze. “Hey, baby,” Ben whispered softly, words ponderous and sleepy.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Kincaid whispered back as he ran a hand through Ben’s dirty hair, “what’s going on?”

Ben hummed, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as he picked his head up. “Markus was running a fever,” he answered, yawning through his teeth. “He didn’t want to get up.”

Kincaid’s face creased in concern, moving his hand from Ben’s head to brush the back of his fingers against Markus’s cheek. The witch didn’t stir other than to curl his fingers tighter around Ben’s thigh, causing Ben himself to blink in surprise. He didn’t remember Markus’s hand moving there.

“He still feels a little warm, but it doesn’t seem high.”

“I think he pushed himself a little hard today, I don’t think it’s too serious. We’ll monitor him, make sure he takes care of himself and doesn’t let it get worse.”

Kincaid nodded, and Ben watched his lover’s eyes soften as he took in the two men curled together on the couch. His big hands were gentle when he pulled the edge of his blanket back around Markus’s shoulder, smoothing the bunched, well-loved yarn as he stroked his back. Already wrapped around his little finger, Ben thought, heart swelling.

“We’re in so much trouble,” Ben murmured, smiling softly when Kincaid’s eyes snapped over to his own. Ben didn’t feel anything other than acceptance, love, and affection in his expression when he pressed his cheek against Markus’s hair again. There was nothing else in his heart for both of these two.

“I know,” Kincaid whispered, shaking his head a bit as his growing smile turned rueful.

They didn’t need anything else to know that the other was on the same page.

Slowly, Kincaid bent to place a kiss on Markus’s forehead as well, his other hand curled around Ben’s nape.  

[teacupfulofstarshine]

you are my dad (boogie woogie woogie)

summary: five times logan accidentally referred to virgil as his dad, and two times he purposefully referred to virgil as his dad

(OR: a birthday fic for the lovely @lovelylogans​ set in her STELLAR gilmore girls au!)

a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY ANNALISE!!! if y'all haven't read the sideshire files you're missing out, it's so soft and good and wonderful and i promise you will love it

cw: illness, alcohol, drunkenness (but none of these are angsty, it's all fluff) 

wordcount: 2819

read it on ao3!

(occasion the first: the nineteenth month of logan’s life) 

“You can never tell anyone about this, kid. I’ve never done this in front of anyone and I never will again, you understand me?” Logan, strapped into his portable high chair, stares at Virgil while chewing on his Jupiter teething toy, not saying anything. Virgil assumes that it’s an agreement and slides the hair elastic off of his wrist. 

Carefully, he gathers all of his bangs into one hand and slips the elastic around them, twisting and sliding and twisting again until he has a little unicorn-horn ponytail sticking off his head and a clear line of sight. “Alrighty. What do you want for breakfast, Lo, huh?” 

Logan slobbers on his teething toy and kicks his little bare feet vigorously. He drops the teething toy on his tray and loudly declares, “BA!” 

“Bananas?” Virgil guesses. He’s never been as good at interpreting Logan’s variety of noises as Patton, but Logan waves his little arms and lets out a long string of baby nonsense, so Virgil assumes he must be at least somewhat on the right track. “Okay, kid. You get bananas now, and I’ll make us some chocolate-chip banana pancakes. Deal?” 

Logan slaps his tray and picks up his teething toy again. Virgil pulls open the fridge and carefully fills one of Logan’s sippy cups with apple juice, settling it into the cup holder slot. Logan immediately abandons his toy and begins to nom on the spout to get some juice. 

Virgil slices up bananas and sets a little plate onto Logan’s tray, along with a small plastic kiddie fork. Logan lowers the fork towards the slices of banana with the fierce determination of a child attempting to win a toy from a claw crane game. Virgil huffs out a soft laugh and returns to the kitchen counter. He moves through the motions of pancake batter, throwing in banana slices and chocolate chips, and he’s completely in the kitchen zone. Logan’s happy chewing noises and babbles become a soothing background noise. 

He’s jolted away from his pancake batter abruptly when he hears Logan wail. 

Virgil whirls around, whisk dropping on the floor and splattering pancake batter everywhere. Logan is crying, holding one hand out, and his little pointer finger is red. “Oh, you - did you bite your finger?” 

Logan sniffles and cries, holding his hand out. “Paaaaaaa!” 

Virgil winces. “No, kid, Papa’s not -”

Logan makes grabby hands at Virgil. “Pa! Paaaaa, papapapa, paaaa, paaaa!” 

Virgil freezes. “I - you - am I Papa?” 

“Paaaaaaaa!” 

Virgil carefully takes Logan’s tiny hand, leaning forward and carefully kissing his little red finger in the way he’s seen Patton do millions of times. “There we go, Logan. I - Papa kissed it better, so we’re okay, right?”

Logan sniffles. “Paaa . . .” 

Virgil carefully offers him a disk of banana. “You want some more banana?” Logan wipes at his little eyes, leans forward, and carefully takes the banana chunk in his mouth. “There we go. You’re okay. It’s okay, Logan.” 

*~*~*~*~*

(occasion the second: logan’s junior year of highschool) 

Virgil is really sick of walking into the Sanders house and discovering a sick Sanders (pun very much not intended, thank you, Patton). 

He nudges the front door open, arms laden with takeout containers of meal-prep for the week and bags of groceries to re-stock the kitchen and two cardboard drinks trays full of to-go cups. Patton’s not home, off at some kind of business conference, and he’d promised to take care of Logan. 

(Take care of our kid, Patton had said, and Virgil had been caught so off-guard by the pronoun our that he’d barely remembered to agree.) 

So he has lunches for Logan for every day of the week, groceries so that he can make his own dinners, and a stock of smoothies full of hidden nutrients for study breaks. Virgil kicks the door shut behind him, struggling to not drop any of the things he’s holding. 

“Logan, you wanna come help me with your meals and shit?” 

There’s no immediate answer, which isn’t worrying in and of itself; it is almost 7:30 AM on a Saturday, and Logan is a teenager. Virgil sets the drinks trays and takeout containers on the kitchen, drops the grocery bags on the floor, and goes to lock the door behind him. He hears footsteps behind him. “Sorry if I woke you, but -”

He turns to face Logan and almost drops the keys. Logan is wrapped up like a burrito in his thick quilt, dragging it along the kitchen floor like a cape. His eyes and nose are red, his cheeks are flushed, and his hair looks like Remus’s after a late night of partying. He sways in the doorway. 

“Logan?” Virgil asks, keeping his voice soft. 

“Virgil,” Logan rasps. “I . . . believe that I . . . may be ill.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Virgil says. Logan blinks at him, once, uncharacteristically slow. 

“Could you please stop the room from spinning? And - and perhaps you could - could do me the favor of - of catching -”

Logan pitches forward, and Virgil lunges to catch him. He feels Logan’s forehead and swears with how hot it is. “Alright, buddy, back into bed with you.”

“Y - you brought me . . . groceries,” Logan manages. “I . . . we have to -”

“You do not have to do anything except get your ass back in bed,” Virgil says. “I’m calling Jean and leaving her in charge for the day, she can handle it. I’m staying here with you.” 

“Y - no, you - go t’ work -”

“Over my dead body, kid. Come on, back to bed.” Logan takes a single step and his knees immediately buckle beneath him. Virgil doesn’t think twice before scooping the Logan burrito up into his arms, shifting so that Logan’s head rests in the curve of his shoulder. “Let’s go.” 

He maneuvers Logan back into bed, tucking him in and taking his temperature. It reads 101.1 - hot enough to warrant concern, but not so hot that he needs hospitalization. Good; Virgil’s had his fill of seeing Sanders boys in the hospital. He soaks a washcloth in ice-cold water, and Logan hisses when he lays it on his forehead, swiftly transitioning from a hiss of pain to a hiss of relief.  

“Stay here, kid. I’ll bring you something to drink in just a second, okay?” 

Logan makes a weak, pained noise from his bed. “Papa?” 

It takes every ounce of self-control Virgil possesses not to bolt or flinch or scream or otherwise negatively react. He knows this is Logan’s fever-addled brain speaking, he knows it doesn’t mean anything. “Yeah?” 

“Papa, I don’ - I don’ feel so good,” Logan whimpers. “Papa, I - I think - I think ‘m sick, Papa.” 

“Yeah,” Virgil says, approaching the bed and gently brushing a hand against Logan’s cheek. “Yeah, you are, kid.” 

“Don’ like it, Papa.” “I know. It’s gonna be okay, Logan.”

“Papa, not - not gonna leave?” Logan sounds so small and fragile, and Virgil remembers the first time a tiny bundle of baby was placed in his arms and the first time he met those vibrant indigo eyes and the first time he knew that he would give anything in his life for this child and his happiness. 

“No, kid. I’m not going anywhere.” 

*~*~*~*~* 

(occasion the third: logan’s senior year of high school) 

“You Sanders men wouldn’t have a proper diet or a proper sleep schedule without me, would you?” Virgil sighs. He’d worked a late shift at the diner today; when Patton had picked up dinner for himself and Logan, Virgil had kissed him quickly and told him not to wait up. 

Now, carefully shutting the door behind him, he’s beginning to think that he should have told Patton to pass the message on to his son. 

It’s nearly midnight, and Logan is slumped across the kitchen table. The table is covered in a mountain of SAT prep books, all of them annotated in Logan’s cramped, increasingly sloppier handwriting. Logan has blue and black pen marks smeared all over his face, his tie is askew, and he’s creating a small puddle of drool as he breathes in and out. 

“Aw, geez,” Virgil sighs. He toes off his shoes and leaves them in the tray, carefully dropping his coat and apron into a heap. Logan makes a soft snuffling noise. “You gotta get sleep, kid. How are you supposed to take an exam if you can barely keep your eyes open, huh?” 

He carefully closes all of the books and piles them up neatly on the table, slides the pen from Logan’s hand and fills up his pencil case, piles the post-it notes in place. It takes some maneuvering, but Virgil finally manages to pick up Logan. He stirs in Virgil’s arms. “Whhmmmm?” 

“Hey, kid,” Virgil murmurs. “We’re getting you to bed, okay?” 

“Need t’study, Papa . . .” 

Virgil’s heart clenches as he carries Logan to his room. “You need to sleep. You won’t pass the exam if you fall asleep in the middle of it, will you?” 

“No, Papa . . .”

“Don’t burn yourself out. Take breaks, let your body recover. Isn’t it you who told me that the brain stores and processes information when you sleep?” 

“Ye, Papa . . .”

Virgil carefully settles Logan on his bed, pulling off his tie and belt and shoes and glasses. “Sorry, Papa,” Logan yawns, eyes still closed. Virgil pulls the folded blanket from the foot of Logan’s bed and tucks it around him. 

“Don’t apologize. Just sleep, okay?” 

Logan is asleep again before Virgil’s even left the room. 

*~*~*~*~*

(occasion the fourth: the aftermath of logan’s twenty-first birthday)

“Who knew my boyfriend was a lightweight?” Roman laughs. His second beer of the night is half-finished in his hand, and there’s a barely-buzzed but very-drunk Logan curled in his lap and lazily kissing his face. Virgil, the designated driver and therefore sober, would be slightly offended that his basically-son is making out with his boyfriend in front of him, but it is Logan’s twenty-first birthday, and they’re all chaste kisses along Roman’s jawline. 

“I wasn’t expecting it, based on the stories Patton’s told me.” 

“Do tell!” Roman says, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“I will not,” Virgil says. “You need good healthy role models in your life, and if I tell you stories about shenanigans you’ll never take Patton seriously again.” 

He finally manages to pile two giggly drunk teenagers into the back of his car and pull away from the remnants of Logan’s party. They’re whispering conspiratorially in the back seat. Virgil turns on his music on a low volume and keeps his eyes on the road. 

It takes Roman approximately seven minutes to finally kiss Logan goodbye and stumble down the driveway to his house. (Logan does not make his job easier by clinging like a starfish and begging for “jus’ one more kiss, please?”) Virgil nods at Isadora when she opens the door, and she offers him a nod in return as she ushers Roman inside. 

“I - I love him,” Logan slurs, yawning and leaning forward so that his head bonks against the driver’s seat. 

“I know.” 

“No, you - I - I love him, Daddy. I love him.” 

Virgil adjusts his rearview mirror and laughs softly. “I know, Logan. I think all of Sideshire knows you love him.” 

“They do?” Logan hums. “Do - d’you think Roman knows I love him, Daddy?” 

“I’m sure Roman knows,” Virgil says. 

“I should tell ‘im more, Daddy.” 

“You can tell him everything you want tomorrow. Right now, we’re going home, and you’re drinking a bottle of water before you go to bed.” 

“The - the human body is seventy-five percent water, Daddy. Ex - except Roman’s body. His is just made of muscle and pretty.” 

Virgil barely manages to contain the laughter bubbling in his throat.

*~*~*~*~*

(occasion the fifth: logan’s sophomore year of college) 

You have: three new voicemail messages! 

First message: Saturday at 1:17 AM 

“Daddy - Daddy, ‘s me, ‘s Logan, an’ I think I’m jus’ a tiiiiiiiny bit drunk? I wanna make a - a - a snack , but not like Roman, cause he’s a snack but I don’t - uuuuuuuum . . . what . . . was I askin’ you? Dunno . . .” 

Second message: Saturday at 1:27 AM

“Daddy, ‘m sorry, got distracted cause - cause Roman is jus’ - jus’ so pretty - but I hada . . . a . . . question! Yeah, that’s the word. I wanna make those muffins you make, the ones with th’jam in the middle, an’ - but I don’ remember the recipe - how - how d’you put the jam in the muffins without cuttin’ ‘em in half? I don’ understand . . . I’ . . . call m’back, kay?” 

Third message: Saturday at 2:48 AM 

“Uh . . . Daddy . . . how d’you get batter stains outta y’r clothes . . .”

(“Virge? You okay?” 

“Logan leaves the weirdest drunk voicemails.”)

*~*~*~*~*

(plus one: the aftermath of logan’s graduation from chilton) 

“You really did that, huh, kid?” Virgil asks. Logan looks at him, mortar slightly askew, eyes bright and happy. He’s holding his diploma, and Virgil reaches over to ruffle his hair. He gently pulls Logan into a hug, and Logan holds on perhaps slightly tighter than normal. Virgil isn’t judging; he’s holding on tightly as well.

“Did what?” Logan asks. “Graduated? Were you expecting me not to?” 

“No, of course I knew you’d do that.” Virgil feels the lump creeping up his throat. “I - I just - aw, hell, Logan -”

“Are you crying?!” Logan asks incredulously.

“No, shut the fuck up,” Virgil hisses reflexively. Logan laughs, and he sounds watery too, so Virgil lets it go. “I just - you - I -” Logan waits patiently while he takes a deep breath and collects his thoughts. “Good speech,” he finally settles on. 

“Oh,” Logan says, voice small. “That.” 

“You - you called me Dad.” 

“That I did.” 

“Was that on purpose?” Virgil asks. He holds his breath a little, not sure what he’ll do if Logan says no. He’s not sure what he’ll do if Logan says -

“Yes,” Logan says. “Of course it was. You may not have contributed to my genetic makeup, but - but you are my dad, Virgil. In every way that truly matters. You and Dad raised me, you kept me fed and healthy, the diner is my second home. You’re my - you’re my dad.” 

Virgil hugs Logan tightly, one hand gently gripping the back of Logan’s hair and the other squeezing around his waist. “You are my son,” he whispers into Logan’s hair. “In every way that matters, you are my son.” 

Logan takes a deep breath, and then, so quietly Virgil almost misses it, he whispers, “Eight, dad.” 

Virgil inhales, shakily, and exhales, “Sixteen, kid.”

*~*~*~*~*

(plus two: the aftermath of virgil asking logan’s permission to propose)

Virgil curls his hands into fists on his jeans, staring very intensely at Logan’s sneakers. “I promise,” he says lowly, “that I’m not trying to intrude on your life. I know how important Patton is to you, I know how important you are to him. And I know it’s archaic and kind of sexist to ask for someone’s hand in marriage as if I’m asking permission for someone’s property, but - but I - you’ve put up with so much instability in your life, with your shitbag of a sperm donor -”

Logan snorts at the reference to Christopher, and Virgil lets the corner of his lip quirk up into a smile before settling back into Serious Mode. “- and I would never want to make you feel like you have to accept me. I’m not trying to marry Patton because I think I have to, or because I think I deserve to marry him, or - or because he owes me something. I want to marry him because - because I’ve spent so long loving him, and so long being loved by him, and we’ve made a home together and a life together and - hell, we’ve raised a kid together - and i just -”

“I’m sure this is all just one big insurance scam,” Logan jokes. Virgil wheezes, and Logan reaches out to take his hand. 

“Virgil.” He pauses, and then, “Dad.” 

Virgil’s head jerks up, and Logan smiles softly at him. “I know that you would never propose if you weren’t completely serious. I appreciate you coming to make sure that I would be alright with this marriage, because I know someone asking you this question if you were in my shoes would help to ease your anxiety about the transition.”

“That was . . . very emotionally astute.” 

Logan smirks. “I know.”

“Brat,” Virgil laughs. He blinks, and suddenly his face is wet. 

“I appreciate this,” Logan repeats, “but Roman and I have literally been planning your marriage since we met. You do not need to worry about my opinion in this matter. If it will ease your mind, though, yes, Dad, you have my blessing to propose to Papa.” 

“You haven’t called him Papa in years,” Virgil says. 

“I haven’t had another parent to call ‘Dad’ in years, either.” 

Virgil couldn’t stop himself from hugging Logan if he tried. “Eight,” he says, and Logan hugs him tightly. 

“Sixteen, Dad.” 

[secret-engima]

Random HCs for Some of My Verses

Future’s Blurry (the Past is a Trap) verse:

-Glaucus has no idea how he wound up with a pet mad scientist. He WENT there intending to kill Besithia, he DID. Instead he found himself with a mad scientist on his heels, complaining about not having a fancy lab anymore and needing it if he’s going to prove Glaucus wrong.

-Oh yeah, Glaucus thinks with a squint, somewhere in the whole “somehow not killing the scientist” (not that he COULD, Prompto had come from that man and if there was a chance ... well, he loved Prompto more than he hated Besithia, it would be worth the annoyance) Glaucus had said that Besithia wasn’t smart enough or skilled enough to be Really All That™. Besithia had immediately taken offense, forgetting all about his life being in danger in favor of his pride, and demanded HOW DARE. OF COURSE HE WAS.

-Glaucus had snorted something to the order of how if he was REALLY all that he would be able to make a cure/vaccine for the Scourge, not just piddle around infecting things with it and claiming to have done something NEW (the scourge infected everything by nature, essentially infecting machinery wasn’t new, it was just calculated stupidity).

-Glaucus thinks that might have been what led to his acquisition of a scientist actually. Besithia so insulted he’d been willing to defect from the empire that they both knew would never condone a vaccine for their precious Scourge just to prove Glaucus WRONG.

-At one point he has to stop and laugh hysterically over the fact that he just took out Niflheim’s R&D division at the kneecaps. By doing a slightly (SLIGHTLY) more adult version of Double Dog Daring their head scientist.

-There’s also the fact that, to get proper funding, housing, and equipment for his new pet scientist, Glaucus could no longer just subsist on bounties from Hunts and dragging Ardyn from hotel to hotel. No, he needed money, manpower, resources that couldn’t be tracked.

-Lucky for him, he was once Cor the Immortal, the guy in charge of busting illegal butts and then later in charge of the surviving population of humanity in the Long Night. He knew a thing or two about discreet resources and acquisition of funds.

-The Insomnia Underworld had no idea what hit it. It feels like one minute their going about their days, discreetly infighting between the families, laundering their illegal items, the next minute everything is being taken over like dominos by an icy-eyed TEENAGER that can’t seem to DIE no matter what is thrown at him.

-By the end of the year post getting his scientist, Glaucus had (unwillingly) re-taken his title of The Immortal and was the shadow king of the entire freaking Underworld of Insomnia and a good chunk of Lucis. Anyone who didn’t like his new rules of conduct were killed or kicked out and those who were smart enough to swear loyalty found themselves magically bound by their word (Glaucus had no idea how he pulled off that trick, he blamed the KoL and their shenanigans during the time travel). Glaucus then put some of the less scummy and more intelligent ones in charge and calmly swanned off to go back to running around the wilds taking on Hunts and blowing up Nif bases.

-The new Lieutenants in charge of the underworld on behalf of their new Underworld King all just ... kinda blinked at each other and silently asked “What Just Happened?”

-And that is how Cor/Glaucus ended up the reigning king of the Lucian underworld and Besithia got to play mad scientist in a hidden laboratory all Right Under King Mors’ Nose thank you and good night.

...

Risk the Fall (We Have Felt It All) verse:

-The others in the main cast of the first game get reborn too, don’t @ me.

-As we all know, Lightning is the new Crown Princess of Lucis and Hope is the new Crown Prince of Tenebrae, the others are also their own characters so to speak except for Snow and Serah but we’ll get back to them in a sec.

-Sazh is an Armaugh. He’s Weskham’s nephew and his new name is Sors. He’s three years older than Lightning this time around, but he STILL gets teased as the “Old Man” of the group, which he bears with good humor. He ends up being her Hand, just like Ignis is for Noctis.

-Fang and Vanille are reborn as half-sisters who look nothing alike. Fang is the elder of the two and just as Throw Hands as ever. She’s like- three-ish years younger than Lightning. Vanille is five years younger than Lightning. They don’t have the same mom, and only stumbled on each other by happenstance. They started by recognizing each other from their past life and then started comparing their current one and talking about it was funny that they both came from a fling rather than a marriage. Then they start talking about their respective moms (At least Vanille’s is dead I think? Who knows, but this way Fang gets to adopt Vanille and drag her home) and from there they talked about what little they know of their respective dads.

-And find out their descriptions of appearance and temperament described by their mothers match.

-Eerily so.

-“We’re sisters!” Vanille (who needs a new latin name btw) squeals in joy, throwing her arms around Fang, who just snorts dryly and says,

-“I swore that if I ever met ‘im, I’d stab him where the sun don’t shine. But since he gave me you ... I guess I’ll just give him a black eye. Maybe break an arm.”

-Far, far away in Insomnia, Cor pauses and reaches for his sword on instinct, sure for a moment that someone was plotting bodily harm against him. There is no one in the study but him, Regis, and Clarus however, so he shrugs it off a moment later. Probably just the nifs cursing him out for his latest mission or something.

-Snow and Serah come back as canon characters. Because I Said So.

-Luna is 8 years old when she tentatively creeps up to Zagreus/Hope, tears in her eyes, and softly asks “Hope” if she can see her sister.

-Zagreus stares at her in shock, then slowly kneels down to be eye level and whispers, “Serah?”

-She nods, blue eyes so much older than they were just yesterday before something caused her to remember, and Hope kisses her forehead before hurrying off to find his computer. Over Skype, Lightning and Serah cry for joy and sadness.

-“We’re not sisters this time,” pouts Lightning just a little.

-Serah smiles, sugar sweet and innocent, “I guess you’ll just have to hurry up and marry Hope so we can be sisters-in-law.” Both of the elder reincarnates choke on their spit while Luna laughs.

-Meanwhile, somewhere deep in the jungles of Galahd, Libertus tiredly puts ointment on Nyx’s cuts and scrapes while the grinning Ulric holds an ice pack to his black eye, “Just had to pick a fight, didn’t you,” mutters Lib, “always gotta be the Hero.”

-Nyx smiles, and Lib notices it’s that strange, far-off sad one he gets sometimes, the one that makes him look way too old and weary for his years, “I promised,” he says simply, an apology and unknowable explanation all in one. Libertus doesn’t ask WHO he promised, he knows Nyx won’t tell him. “I promised” has been his excuse since they could barely walk. Libertus isn’t sure he wants an answer at this point. Some things just aren’t for mortal men to know.

[fairie-gothmother]

In The Shadow of Starlight, Part 6: Gut Instincts

First part: The Fall

Previous: The Sheep Will Flock

How long had it been? Days, weeks? Troy lost track of time while he’d been slowly starving to death. Since his excommunication, each moment blurred into the next as whatever he possessed of the leech power fed off of his own body. Finally, he had some relief. He couldn’t help but be grateful for the scientist’s carelessness during the lab experiments. That was the first time he’d taken from any siren apart from his twin. It felt very different. This energy was more restless than he was used to. Maybe this what Ty meant by saying she could taste what she leeched.

Now that Troy had some extra juice, he felt incredible. Even after Lilith dumped him in Sanctuary’s garage on the bottom deck, he was amped. And what did Troy do when he was hyped up and left to his own devices? He beatboxed. The Calypso bobbed his head and swayed to the groove, bustling around the room and inspecting the equipment. He had to admit, it wasn’t a bad setup. He knew everyone was talking about him, probably deciding where to eject him into space, but he wished they’d hurry it up already.

He paused when a noise from nearby threw off his rhythm. A beep came again from a cluttered desk. With no regard to the desk owner’s privacy, he opened one of the drawers to find an Echo device inside. It was an older model, but obviously still in working condition. Troy glanced over his shoulder and scanned the room for cameras before putting the Echo on silent mode and slipping it into his pocket.

“Hey.”

Troy reeled around, startled from the voice and saw the blue haired siren descending the stairs into the workshop.

“Relax,” the sapphire siren said. She wiped the dust off a tool box and casually leaned against it. “Don't look so guilty. I, uh… Sorry for phase-chucking you across Tannis’s lab. You alright?” 

Oh. He wasn't busted after all. Still, Troy couldn’t help but be suspicious. No way she cared to chat. Probably cared even less about hurting him. A golden canine glinted through his lopsided smile. “I did ask for it, didn’t I? But yeah, I’m good. No hard feelings, Meg.”

“It’s Maya,” she said, obviously annoyed. “Get it right next time. Okay, Trent?”

Excuse me? Troy furrowed his brow and glared at her. She wore a playful smirk and raised her eyebrows as if daring him to correct her. Interesting. She was messing with him.

“Alright then, Maya. Let’s hear it already,” he folded his arms across his chest. “Are you guys gonna launch me into the nearest sun? Or does the scientist want me as a lab rat for unethical tests? Whatever it is, please don’t tell me it’s life in prison. That’s boring. I deserve something creative.”

Maya shook her head. “Oh, no. You don’t get off that easy. You’re still helping us fight the COV.”

Troy cocked his to one side, analyzing the siren in a skeptical stare. As hard he looked for the smallest hint that she was full of shit, her body language suggested she was telling the truth. He huffed, “So what, no punishment then? I figured the Firehawk would want this handsome mug served on a silver platter.”

Maya gave a one shouldered shrug. “You said you didn’t leech Tannis on purpose. Sometimes powers are weird like that. With some training, you might be able to control it.”

Easy for her to say. If only it was as simple as meditating on a mountain to master his broken siren powers. “Ah, right. You’re from Athenas. I’m sure those monks taught you all about control and restraint, great power is great responsibility, blah-blah-blah. But it’s pretty safe to say that I’m a special case. Clearing my chakras isn’t gonna do it for me.” 

“It would at least help with that attitude of yours.”

Troy began pacing and brought his flesh hand to his chin. “I don’t know. It wouldn’t be considered very zen if I accidentally ended up leeching you. Then again, you might taste like chamomile tea.” He cast a half-hearted sideways glance in Maya’s direction.

Maya rapidly drummed her fingernails on the tool box and said, “I take it back. I’m not sorry to phaselocking you.”

“That’s what I thought,” Troy snickered. “Be honest. How many times a day do you phaselock stuff just because you can?”

Maya closed her eyes and clasped her hands in front of her, mimicking a monk’s prayer pose. “I take a great amount of pride in my self discipline so if you must know-” She raised her left hand, and her fingers sparked. A ball peen hammer levitated from a workbench and hovered across the room into Maya’s hand. “I do it all the time.”

Troy scoffed. “Show off.”

The two were locked in a stare down. It wasn’t clear who cracked first, but neither of them could keep a straight face for long. A gentle blue glow emitted from Maya’s siren marks. Troy’s smile dropped as he looked down to his left hand, noting the harsh red light of his own marks.

“You really didn’t know that would happen to Tannis, did you?” the blue haired woman asked softly.

“No,” he answered honestly. “I’m still trying to get a grip on everything myself.” All his life he’d been broken. His parents treated him as a burden, although they never said it outright. He was constantly sick and needed extra help when he struggled with the use of only one arm. And Tyreen never considered him an equal. Even as one of the twin gods, he wasn’t seen in the same light as the God Queen. And now that he knew he possessed siren power without knowing it, his whole outlook was in question. What did it mean? What other parts of himself remained untapped?

Maya said, “Even if it’s only half, you’re still a siren. It’s not an easy life. Sirens have always been feared, hunted, extorted… worshipped.” Troy met her blue-gray eyes for a moment, then redirected his gaze to the wall. “We’re just trying to find our place.”

Troy’s heart skipped a beat. We?

“Yeah,” he said in a voice just above a whisper. He snapped out of it and quipped, “But, you gotta admit. Life would sure be a lot easier if I could phaselock grapes into my mouth all day.” 

Maya scrunched up her face and flung an empty can at Troy, who reflexively caught it in his mechanical hand with a metallic clang. He waved it, shook his head, and grinned at her.

“Nice catch, wise-ass. Now, get in the drop pod,” Maya teased.

That tiny thing? Troy had used porta-potties with more legroom than that. “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Troy groaned. The siren smiled wickedly as she held the hatch open and ushered him inside. He sighed knowing the ride back to Pandora would not be a comfortable one.

~~~

On a normal day, Ellie was a delight. Today was not a normal day considering her garage was used as solitary confinement for one of the most hated influencers in the galaxy. Maya recalled her saying, “He’s about as welcome as an outhouse breeze.” It took a while to convince the mechanic that her garage was just as she left it. Eventually, she cooled her boiling blood down to a simmer.

If Maya was being honest, she didn’t actually believe that Troy hadn’t messed with something. Call it a gut feeling. The same gut feeling that knew Ava would be a siren someday. The same gut feeling that told her to go talk to Troy just now. Her gut hadn’t lied to her yet so she didn’t question it. The ex-God King was absolutely still on thin ice, but she was willing to give him a chance. Maybe he just needed some guidance. Either that or he was a hopeless, cocky little shit.

Hydraulics hissed from the rising door as Maya entered the ship’s bridge. The orbital view of Pandora loomed outside the windows of Sanctuary’s observation deck. Crew members clacked away on keyboards at their posts. Lilith and Tannis stopped mid-conversation when they noticed Maya approaching.

“Troy’s on his way back to base,” Maya announced, slightly out of breath from rushing up three flights of stairs. “Cramer should be waiting for him when he lands. What did I miss?” she asked when she noticed neither of them would look her in the eye.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you about Tannis sooner. I decided the fewer people that knew about it, the better. These days, being a siren puts a target on your back,” Lilith apologized. 

The revelation that the two of them were keeping Tannis’s siren powers a secret was shocking to say the least, but Maya wasn’t upset. She understood. Her own siren powers had been used by others to threaten an entire planet’s population. “I get it. I’m glad to have another siren on our side.” Maya smiled at the scientist, who awkwardly returned the gesture. It was cute when she made an effort.

“How are you, Tannis?” Maya asked.

“I'm fine. No need to fuss,” Tannis said. “It was actually interesting to experience the leech power first hand.”

Lilith knitted her brows. “Troy could have killed you. We still don’t know his intentions. Who knows what other abilities he’s hiding.”

Maya recalled the look of shock on Troy’s face while he held Tannis’s wrist, and the way he kept his distance from the two sirens afterwards as they processed what the hell just happened. After the conversation she’d just had with the Calypso, Maya felt the need to voice her opinion. “It seems like he doesn't understand his abilities either. I really don’t think he leeched Tannis on purpose.”

The commander was unconvinced. “Even if that’s true, we can’t underestimate what he’s capable of. This is still Troy Calypso.” Lilith stared out of the window at Pandora below. “For now, he’s useful to us. We’re going to need all the power we can get. It’s about time to make our move on the Holy Broadcast Center. There’s been a lot of activity lately. I’ve got a feeling something big is about to go down.”

Claptrap’s eardrum piercing voice called from the command console, “Incoming transmission!”

Speak of the devil. Maya’s heart sank as Tyreen’s smug face appeared on the overhead monitors. She was beginning to wonder if the COV had tapped their coms. Their timing was unusually coincidental.

“Hey, Lil!” the cult leader said in a singsong voice. “How’s life been as a non-siren normie human? Does it suck? I bet it sucks. Not gonna lie, these powers of yours are pretty sweet.” Lilith was seething. Tyreen had a knack for getting under her skin. The Calypso continued, “But hey, you don’t have to take my word for it. You know someone who knows all about my Firehawk upgrade. Just ask my brother.”

Damn. Word had finally reached her. Now Tyreen knew the Crimson Raiders were harboring her disowned twin.

“By the way, did that traitorous freak happen to mention the fact that he stole something from me? Can you believe it? Yoinked it right out from under me. I don’t want your grubby normie fingerprints on my stuff so if he shared it with you, I’m gonna need it back.”

Lilith calmly replied, “I assumed you’d know better since you were the one who dumped him in the middle of nowhere. He wasn’t exactly in any condition to exchange gifts when we found him. He’d been stripped and unarmed.”

Tyreen paused before shrieking with laughter. “She said unarmed! Please tell me you meant to make that pun.” She wiped a tear from her eye. “I needed that. No big deal. It’s a matter of time until I find it anyway. Well, I’ve got places to be. Big milestone event coming up. You’re gonna love it. Oh, and tell Troy I said hi before he runs outta juice and shrivels up. 'Kay? Laterz!” The Calypso winked before the feed was cut.

Maya’s fists tingled with the urge to meet that punchable face. She hollered back at the empty screen, “Troy will be the one kicking your door in, you cocky bitch!”

Claptrap said something about the video transmission’s crappy production value, but no one was listening. Lilith grit her teeth. “Using Troy was the plan, but that’s only if we can keep him alive long enough to get there.”

Maya squeezed her fists tighter, causing her fingernails to dig into her palms. Tyreen was always one step ahead of them. She couldn’t care less that her brother was in the Raider’s custody. Because of Troy’s dependence on her, she never even saw him as a threat.

Tannis chimed, “I have a theory, but you aren’t going to like it, Lilith.” All eyes turned to the scientist. “It is apparent that Troy cannot absorb the life force from living things through touch alone, with the exception of sirens. According to my experiments, it’s highly plausible that he can gain the same effect by ingesting it directly via anthropophagy or hematophagy.”

The room was silent apart from the humming of the spaceship. Maya blinked and said, “Tannis, no one understands you when you talk like that. In layman’s terms, please?”

Tannis sighed in disappointment but explained, “Troy should be able to regain energy from cannibalism or drinking blood.”

~~~

Sorry it took so long for an update. I’ve been working through a serious creative block. Showing my girl Maya some love in this part. This was a little shorter than usual, but I hope it was still entertaining. As always, thanks for reading my garbage! <3

[anotherspnfanfic]

You Always Smell Like Smoke

A/N: This came from a conversation after Jensen posted those LAFD pics. Plus the bold prompts below.

Word count: 1300 ish

Warnings: panic attack

[[MORE]]

She pulled into the parking lot of the fire station and took a deep calming breath before climbing out of her car. It was barely noon and had already been an incredibly long day. She walked around to the front where she found Sam and Cas washing the truck.

“Hey! What’re you doing here?” Sam asked.

“Long story. Do you know where Dean is?”

Sam pointed towards the other side of the truck. “Right over there.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled. She rounded the front of the truck and spotted Dean. The sight nearly made her forget the reason she was there.

He was wearing his navy blue department t-shirt with his bunker pants, red suspenders holding them in place. She watched as he finished folding up a hose and hoisted it onto his shoulder. The sleeves of his shirt strained slightly with the flex of his biceps. He had turned to put the hose away in the side compartment when he spotted her.

He knew she was checking him out. They had been best friends for years. They had shared a handful of drunken nights together and they flirted regularly. But neither of them were ever looking for more. He decided to make a show of putting away the last hose. He lifted it a little slower and flexed more than necessary. Once he finished, he finally turned to give her his full attention.

“You’re drooling, sweetheart.” He winked once she made eye contact.

That managed to snap her out of her trance. “I was not.” She sighed, “I, kinda, need a huge favor.”

“Anything. You know that.” Noticing how stressed she looked, he added, “You alright?”

“Just a really, really long morning. I need a place to stay. My ‘no pets allowed’ apartment building is being fumigated for fleas.”

“Of course. You know you don’t even need to ask. The spare room is basically yours anyway.” He pulled her over to hug her tightly. “You got your key, or you need mine?”

She wrapped her arms around his waist and returned his firm hug. “Yours, please. Mine is in my apartment.

He continued to hold her until her grip finally loosened. “You wanna go hang out there, or you gonna stay here a while?”

“Um, there. I think I might try to take a nap.”

“Okay.” He led her inside to his locker to get his key. “If you need anything, let me know.”

“Thanks, Dean. I’ll see you later.”

She got to Dean’s house and curled up on his couch with the rest of the pint of ice cream she had left there the week before. She turned on a random documentary on Netflix, hoping it would bore her to sleep.

An hour and a half later, she was still wide awake. Her mind was racing, and she was even more exhausted. She decided to try to distract herself with a movie, since sleep seemed a futile venture.

She was surprised when she was being shaken awake. “I brought pizza, if you’re hungry,” said Dean as he turned towards the kitchen. “You been sleeping all day?”

“No, I saw the beginning of this movie,” she started, pausing to see how far in it was. “Woo! Thirty minute power nap.”

“Well you kind of looked like you were having a bad dream,” he stated almost as if it were a question.

“Huh, I don’t remember.”

“Alright, well, let’s eat and watch something better than this chick flick you have on,” he teased.

“You love this movie, don’t even try that.” She got up to grab plates as he pulled out glasses and poured whiskey in both.

“I plead the fifth. Either way, I’m in the mood for an action movie.”

About an hour into the movie, she felt a familiar tightness start to build in her chest. It had been months since she’d had a full attack. She was hoping that streak would continue. But within ten minutes, that hope was gone.

“I gotta pee,” she announced as she nearly sprinted out of the room.

“Want me to pause?” he shouted after her.

“No, I’ve seen it, it’s fine.” She actually wanted the noise so he wouldn’t overhear her. All the years they had been friends, she had managed to keep her panic attacks a secret. He knew about her anxiety, but not about this.

She closed the bathroom door and tried splashing cold water on her face. It did nothing to calm her as she began to lose track of her breathing. She sank to the cool tile floor as she tried to regain control while staying as quiet as possible.

He’s going to find out. He will be worried. He will be mad I’ve never told him before. Her swarming thoughts of Dean learning about this only fueled the attack. She was completely unaware how long she’d been in there when she heard a knock at the door. It sounded a mile away, and she wasn’t even sure she wasn’t imagining the sound.

Then she heard it again, louder this time. The door was cracked open before she heard him, “Did you fall in? You’ve been—” he stopped as the wheezing sound became clear. He pushed open the door to find her curled with her knees to her chest as she was hyperventilating.

“I feel like I can’t breathe,” she managed between shaky breaths.

He had seen enough panic attacks in his line of work to know what was happening. He quickly moved to sit behind her and wrapped his arms around her tightly.

“Shh, you’re okay,” he soothed. “Can you take a deep breath for me, just one big deep breath?”

It took a few moments, but she was finally able to take one big gasp and managed to exhale a bit slower.

“Good girl. That’s really good. Now, can you tell me five things you can see?”

She took another shaky breath and swallowed roughly as she tried to focus on his request. “Umm, toilet, shower,” she looked around quickly, “towels, scale—”

“One more,” he encouraged.

“Uhh, your toothbrush.” She finished.

“Perfect. Four things you can touch?”

“Floor, towel, cabinets, you,” she stated as she wrapped her fingers tighter around his forearm.

“Good. Deep breath and tell me three things you hear.”

She took another deep breath, holding it for a moment before she exhaled. “Uh, a dog barking, crickets, and, ummm, a clock, I think.”

“Yep, good job,” he praised her. “What about two things you smell?”

That one required her to take another deep inhale through her nose. “Your cologne and smoke. You always smell like smoke.”

“I do not,” he chastised, teasingly. “Last, one thing you taste.”

“Whiskey,” she said, more easily than anything yet.

“Awesome. You feel a little better?” he asked, tentatively as he loosened his grip around her torso.

“I think so, yeah. Sorry.” She relaxed and lolled her head lazily back against his chest.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, sweetheart. I wish you’d told me so I could help, but I get it.” He shifted and lifted her carefully to carry her out to the couch. “How often do you have those?”

“Not very. It’s been months. Actually, years, since I had one that bad,” she explained.

“Do you know what triggered it?” He pulled a blanket over her before sitting where she could rest her head on his leg.

“Nothing? Everything?” She turned her head to look up at him. “I really don’t, just a really stressful day.”

“In the future, please, talk to me. You don’t need to hide it from me, okay?” She watched as concern settled across his features as he waited for a response.

“I’ll try not to. But, old habits die hard.”

“Guess that will have to be good enough. How about for now you just try and get some rest,” he requested. He ran his hand gently up and down her arm.

“Thank you, Dean,” she mumbled as her eyelids began to grow heavy.

“I got you, always,” he whispered as she finally succumbed to a peaceful sleep.

Tags: @deanwasscaredbyacat @muchamusedaboutnothing @babypieandwhiskey

[songsorter28]

Blackpink: The Album Review

Okay, this is the first time i’ve done this and the truth is i don’t know how, so i’ll just try my best.

First of all: I am a Jennie biased blink. That means I have no trustworthy sense of criticism when it comes to them and if you do, this is probably not the place for you. I will try to talk about this album with a sense of criticism, but sometimes, i’m just gonna like a song because it’s blackpink and y’all just gotta deal with it.

BUT, I am not afraid of saying i don’t like things that the pinks have said it to like, which is actually how i’m starting this review. So, if you guys are all about loving the girls and emotion and “think about how they must feel” this is a decision made by the girls, this place is also not for you either. I am a blink and i share a lot of love for those four women, but i am also a consumer of their work as artists. I will complain if I didn’t get something I thought was necessary as a viewer and listener for my money and attention to be spent. I will not, of course, hate on them in any way.

Ok, before anything:

1) English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes. 2) Here, we’re gonna talk about the cover, pre-release single choices, writing credits, tracklist and my honest opinion about the album as a whole.

a) The Cover:

There’s not a lot to talk about but the fact that it’s gorgeous, but simple. I didn’t understand why a crown if the name was The Album (something unoriginal to be honest, but i’m not 100% against it) and there’s no reference to royalty throughtout the album besides maybe Jennie’s rap “didn’t want to be a princess”. I did find the cover visually pleasing tho, could be much more embarrasing.

b) Writing credits and Track List:

This one is quick. I’m extremely glad Jennie and Jisoo were credited as songwriters (Jennie as well as a composer) but Teddy gotta give Danny Chung to god. He hates rapper Jennie and he’s the reason Lisa doesn’t write. He’s always in charge of the raps so teddy gets confortable and Lisa doesn’t get a chance to write her own verses, which is something the sure thing cover showed us she can do. Also, he hates rapper Jennie to the point where she had to write her rap on the title track (wich is good, but, you know what i mean) and wasnt even given a chance to write more than 8 seconds. Melanie I hope this is the last time you were here. Loren you can stay. Tommy and Ryan yall were cute we had fun but it’s over let’s move one (seriously, these producers really made me appreciate Teddy more lmao pls sir never leave us). Okay that’s it. Now, to the track list.

I will be talking about the fact this shouldn’t even be called a full album on the My Honest Opinion About The Album As A Whole topic.

1. How You Like That

I say my opinion more detailed on the next topic but at at essence. Cute. A good opener to the album and what is to come, but too much of a bside to even be a pre release single.

6.5/10

2. Ice Cream

Again, my opinion it’s on the next topic. Cute song. Loved Chaennie’s high notes and wish i didn’t know english so the rap didnt sound that silly. Not as bad as blinks and non blinks make it out to be. 

6.12/10

3. Pretty Savage

I kinda also talked about that in the next topic lmao. It has everything a blackpink song should have. There’s been some controversy about Lisa “born skinny bitch” but Lisa was talking about herself since she has been body shamed through her whole career. She was right and she should say it. You’re entitled to feel uncomfortable but that’s just the thing she wasn’t talking about me or you. She was taking her pain and wearing like an armor. This was a diss track for the haters. Taking that away from her because of our own issues it’s kinda mistreating hers.

8.82/10

4. Bet You Wanna

Yes you guessed it right I talk more about it next topic. It’s a bop. Loved Jennie here. She has such a versatile voice I was very proud to hear her. And Cardi was also good. Just hope Lisa will get her rap part live cause she didn’t have much lines here. But I loved Jenlisa’s brigde. Rosé’s adlibs peak perfection and Jisoo’s chorus and english that’s what i’m talking about. The chorus can be a little repetitive and it kinda ends a bit suddenly but it doesnt bother me much.

8.37/10

5. Lovesick Girls

WHAT TO SAY ABOUT THIS MASTERPIECE OTHER THAN BEST BLACKPINK TITLE TRACK? Love that for me. It was so different than anything they’ve done so far, the lyrics were AMAZING, the message behind it also, the visuals in the MV, storylinne, RAPPER JENNIE OMG, she got the most memorable line “didn’t want to be a princess, i’m priceless” i love her tf the shade to the yg princess title and her scene in the car and in the mental hospital(will not touch on the controversies cause that was annoying) also Lisa’s rap/singing with a flow in the begining her voice OMG I WAS SHOOKEDT. Jisoo’s high note in the brigde? Rosé?? perfect.

10/10

6. Crazy Over You

Rapper Jennie for the last time with a 8 second rap again but LET’S BE POSITIVE. A bop. I loved the i. went. crazy. over. you. I love the lyrics. It bother a bit this much english but it’s bp’s idendity so i’m fine with it.

8.5/10

7. Love To Hate Me

This was a predictable song in the best possible way. Easily one of their best songs. There’s honestly nothing left to say. Also. Lisa’s rap. Maybe Danny Chung deserves some points. It even felt like she was a feat in the song like her flow yall just perfection.

9.4/10

8. You Never Know.

Great song I left with depression.

I like how this album talks with haters and blinks, it really shows a different side from the pinks. Only a few know the emotion Jennie starting off “but you never know unless you walk in my shoes [...] cause everybody sees what they wanna see, it’s easier to jugde it than to believe”. It was written by Loren, a close friend from the girls and the boy who’s Jenlichaeng  boyfriend in the LSG’s MV and Bekuh Boom, a producer who’s been with them for really long, but if anyone got a conspirancy theory that they were involved in the songwriting process of the song, sign me up. You don’t need proves. I believe you. ALSO JISOO GOT MOST LINE ON THIS ONE and we got singer Lisa. After a while, it become my favorite song from the album. Now, it’s my favorite song from their discography. Debate your mother.

9.62/10

c) Pre-Release single Choices: 

I can’t stress about this enough. Whoever was in charge for the single choices needs to go to jail. Not that HYLT is bad (at all) but comparing to the rest of the songs, it look MUCH more like a powerful bside than Love To Hate Me and Pretty Savage ever will. I will lecture later how Pretty Savage was the perfect choice to first release single, just wait. Now, to the controversial Ice Cream. To be honest, i found the song super cute and i think the MV was one of their best. It was different and refreshing, love that for me. But the whole sequence of events that turned out to that disasterous twitter timeline, with constant attacks to the girls especially Lisa over things they cannot control such as line distribuition and a sabotage from antis on yt comment section, was something I kinda already saw it coming. Ice Cream is Blackpink’s most successful single to date, but it was a bad choice from the start (I will talk about that in a second). For starters, YG decided not to promote the song well. While announcing the single, they gave us a poster with pictures from a summer package released months before. And each week they kept doing that, only using actual teaser photos in the release week. The hype was pretty much out. I can’t say my timeline is 100% blink because i have way too many fandoms that i’ve been following for longer than i’ve known kpop, but compared to the HYLT hype, they were pretty down and that’s on YGE. Also, ever since coachella, it’s been antecipated by fans and artists the possibility of a Blackpink x Ariana Grande (one of the most popular singes these last couple of years). The idea of an Aripink collab got blinks (who were already with an eye wide open after Blackpink was seen with Tommy Brown, Ari’s basically oficial producer, who has been producing for her ever since her second album and was reponsible for many hits of her latest project, Thank U, Next, such as 7 rings and Thank U, Next) even more hyped when YG announced (one of those old photoshoot posters. I’m sorry I will never let that go that company is so trash) that Blackpink’s second release was going to be a collaboration with a western artist, and Ariana herself like Jennie’s instagram post about the next single. I cannot put in words the reaction of my twitter timeline when YG confirmed that the collab was actually with Selena Gomez. 

Now, on a more personal note. 

You see, I actually like Selena. I like her songs, besides the critics. Perfect is pop perfection. Waverly Place is the best disney show ever since That’s So Raven. But, to a collab made to the US market, and besides the success of Rare, Selena isn’t a sales force like Adele or Taylor Swift, nor a streaming force like Ariana Grande. Nothing takes my theory that this was supposed to be an aripink collab but, for some reason, she dipped and then interscope (blackpink us label and selena’s label) picked her. Selena showed us a good time and promoted the girls more than YGE did but, it wasn’t a surprise when the song didn’t get a top 10 (a top 13 is really good tho, don’t get me wrong). 

Now back to the story telling

Selena was more than a feat, she sang the whole damn song, getting more vocal lines the the entire vocal line. She’s only a few seconds behind Lisa, who got the most lines in general. I understand that it is a collab, but this is the girls’ single. Why would they want to listen to them for only 16 seconds, the amount of time Rosé got? That set a bunch of solo stans (something that exists more in this fandom than everywhere else) to boycoitt the release, a huge fansite even taking out their funds for the full album (that was low, even for a solo account. JisooBar, you aint seeing heaven). Did i think it was a little of overeacting? As someone who’s an army that had to handle Not Today’s line distribuition, and especially since we’re talking about the main vocalist, someone who will for sure have more lines in the future (as she did), kinda. But, like i said, it was a bomb getting ready to explode at any minute. If it wasn’t that it’d be something else. That being said, NOTHING will ever justify the nastyness y’all did with Lisa and even Jennie’s comment section. Nothing. That was ridiculous even for solo stans. BUT for people who got worried about Lisa’s lack of posts after the release, don’t worry. She didn’t post a lot because Thailand is going through some stuff and I don’t think she has YGe’s permission to talk about it (when I catch the ones in power on that company istg). 

Wow, that was long. At essence, it  was a bad choice for several reasons, but i enjoyed the song a lot. Can’t wait for the live performances with chaesoo’s lines.

Now, back to HYLT. It was greatly promoted, it stopped Zico’s (huge in korea) releases and a bunch of other big artists in South Korea. Got 7 Perfect All-Kills and would’ve gotten more than 12 if the charts weren’t reforming at the time. It also broke a lot of records, and repeated Sour Candy’s position on the bb100 on #33. It’s another very Blackpink song that  I enjoyed but kinda aged. Many non blinks didn’t like it but it’s not like they were ever going to admit they liked a bp song. They’re annoying. The song’s biggest problem is probably the 2015 edm in the chorus. Like. Teddy. You gotta let that go. It’s time. He kinda heard us in the album. But, these kinds of songs are very liked by the general public, especially the korean one. An interview was made asking the general public if blackpink should change concepts and they said a bit fat no. So that tells what you need to know. And that it why i think Pretty Savage should have been the first pre release single. 

Okay, let me tell you another series of event. Back on november 2019, when we were starving because YGe does not like money, BlackpinkBar, a big fansite, payed trucks to be sent to YG building during a whole day demanding for better treatment to Blackpink. You can find all the demands online, but at essence, when it came to music related, blinks always mention: Jisoo’s lines, screen time and blackpink in your area, Main Rapper Jennie, Lisa dance break, Rosé’s high note. On HYLT, we got nothing. And everyone had to shrug it off saying it was just a pre release single, BUT it would be better hyped by blink and the hype to the second pre release would’ve lasted longe if PRETTY SAVAGE, who has basically all of that, was the pre release single. It would’ve assured us of so much. Jisoo said bp in your area twice, she RAPPED, she was singing, she could’ve had more screetime and center time especially bc she’s on all chorus. Jennie Main Rapper would go back and we wouldn’t have to be blue balled (which caused the ice cream meltdown)every single release and only having to wait till the title track and only to have a 8 SECOND RAP. I won’t talk about that now. Moving on. Rosé wouldn’t get a high note, but she would’ve gotten the brigde all to herself and the next pre release single, bet you wanna (wait for it), she would get those incredible adlibs. And Lisa’s dance break. Not only this is bp’s most danceable song and has a bunch of lisa’s raps, it also has jennie’s outro, where for a least 20 seconds lisa could’ve thrived. Yall we were robbed.

Now, real quick, back to Ice Cream. In a perfect world (or just a world where YG’s current ceo) had brains, if they wanted a collaboration to show the pink side of blackpink, with a poppy song and sassy lyrics, the artist not to be in the whole song, and to have an artist who would driven attention from the locals and is a big streaming force, THEY WOULD’VE CHOSEN BET YOU WANNA. My biggest problem with bet you wanna is Lisa’s lack of lines, which could cause stuff and well we just miss her they could have added a rap even for 8 seconds, BUT, seeing her all around pretty savage and knowing she’s gonna have Cardi’s rap during live performances would cool things down. Since we were in the middle of a pandemic, instead of a mv like ice cream where they had to do it separately, they could’ve done something like IU’s eight. A huge part in animation and a few with people. Literally YG why are you so dumb. Bye.

d)  My Honest Opinion About The Album As A Whole:

I did some math (lol) and my rank for The Album is 8.4. It’s easily one of the best releases from this year and I loved it so much, but something were left to be desired and i think i could pass everything and just turn a blind eye at things, except one: the fact we waited for 4 years, watched all ggs and yg groups getting comebacks last semester and only got 8 songs. Loona is releasing a mini album with that amount of songs. Stray Kids and BTS’s mini albums are longer than that. It was bad enough KTL had 4 songs and a remix (a joke) with 2 songs lacking raps and no rapper jennie only for them to carry YG’s dirty name after what their protected boys did. I legit hate it here they didn’t even had 30 minutes, their longest song wasn’t even 4 minutes. Also, before anyone says anything about the girl’s interview about quality over quantity. I’d like to say that i understand them having that when it comes to have one comeback a year and i’m honestly okay with that. But their first full album? 8 songs? Are you kidding me? Like I said, I’m a consumer. I refuse to receive this half assed excuse about quality over quantity when they had more than enough time to produce and write more than 8 quality songs? what, is impossible to write more than one song per moth? these songs have formulas, they can be made more than 8 times. A blackpink album its more than a thousand reals here. That 90% of a sallary. And please don’t come with the “if you don’t want it just don’t buy it” “you can just unstan them” bc that’s not the case. I love their songs. I love the girls. But I’m a consumer of their art and if they want to be takend seriously as artists, they gotta do more than 8 songs on a full album. It’s unfair to anyone that isn’t a diehard fan willing to sell out an overpriced photobook in hours. That’s not the only kind of fan blackpink needs. they need the store locals, the people who are not on twitter or tumblr or instagram. Cause those locals are gonna stay like they stayed with adele and taylor swift. stan twitter is much more likely to leave them with time.

Side note: I’m tired of commenting on rapper Jennie so I’ll just say Jennie deserves better than 8 second raps as the main rapper of the group. That doesnt mean I want Lisa to not rap or to Jisoo not to sing, as many will say bc apparently that’s what people hear when we say main rapper who trained for 6 years to be a main rapper should rap on at least most title tracks even if not on all songs.

But yeah, that’s it. Besides the unfortunate final note, I loved The Album and now Blackpink it’s my second most listened artist of all time. They were top 13 before the album.

[coleisunderrated]

My 100th Post

I can’t believe it happened so soon. I made it to 100 posts without being eaten alive on this hellsite. To celebrate this milestone, remember that post with my headcanon of Ash perfectly mimicking Zane’s voice? I went through with the idea of making a short story based on Kai’s quote so here it is!

Kai sat in one of those rooms where prisoners get to talk to friends and relatives while being separated by those glass walls. The orange jumpsuit was so uncomfortable, especially because he was literally wearing nothing else. Apparently, being a ninja doesn’t make him exempt from the law but it better be worth it...

“Where is he?” Kai’s ears picked up a familiar silky smooth voice carrying hints of exasperation.

An officer guided the white ninja to the room where Kai awaits him. Zane sat on the other side of the glass and stared at him with a face that was worthy of being next to the word ‘disappointment’ in the dictionary.

“Zane! Thank god you’re here!” Kai didn’t care how pissed the nindroid was and he still wouldn’t respond but it didn’t matter. The fire ninja will get what’s been promised to him. After several moments where no words were exchanged, the fire ninja went straight to the point.

“So... now are you gonna lemme smash?” Kai bluntly asked.

“Why would I want to do that after what you just did?!” Zane finally broke his silence in an incredulous tone and looked at the fire ninja like he was some sort of disgusting creature. Everyone else in the room turned to stare at the normally calm ice ninja yelling at Kai.

“But that’s what you told me to do!” The fire ninja still insisted.

“I would never allow you to do something as foolish as that!”

“And yet you did! You called me at exactly 11:28 from McRonald’s!”

“I wasn’t there at the time!”

“Then where were you!?”

“I was at the Samurai X layer helping Nya and Pixal all morning! I told you I was going to meet them and I even made food for Nya and Pixal doesn’t like to eat! There was nothing to necessitate a visit to any eateries!”

“Wait, so you’re telling me you didn’t tell me to run around Mega Monster Amusement Park naked singing All Star!?” Kai asked, not happy that he humiliated himself all for nothing.

“NO!” The ice ninja was one iota away from the robot equivalence of a brain aneurysm.

“But you really said that and I have proof! I just need my phone!”

“Officer, if you please.” Zane beckoned the security guard to fetch the device.

The brawny guy searched through Kai’s confiscated items and soon found the fire ninja’s phone and handed it over to Zane. With a simple scan, Zane gleaned the password and searched through the records of all the calls Kai received and found the most recent contact. The phone number didn’t match up with anyone the ninja know. Zane couldn’t believe Kai was so trusting as to accept a call from a complete stranger.

“This is not a number any of us have ever contacted before. Why did you even answer in the first place?”

Just listen to the voicemail!” Kai urged the nindroid to keep investigating.

With some reluctance, the white ninja checked the voicemail from the number. Little did he know he’s in for an unpleasant surprise.

“Greetings, Kai.” A voice that sounded just like Zane’s spoke, leaving the ice ninja stunned. Only Pixal could replicate his voice but she never left the Samurai X lair so it can’t be her.

“I have something very important to tell you but only if you call back.” Whoever imitated Zane repeated with each and every ignored call.

“Apparently, you did call back...” Zane glared at Kai. He still can’t believe the red ninja allowed himself to be duped so easily.

“Luckily for you, I had our conversation recorded in case you’re still in denial!” Kai remained defiant and Zane was tempted to leave him right then and there. Still, he planned to discover the truth and played the recording...

“Zane, is that you?” Kai’s voice played out.

“Of course it’s me. Do you not recognize the voice of the one you love?” The same person replied again with a perfect impression of the nindroid’s voice. It was so strange for Zane to hear his own voice coming from someone else besides himself and Pixal.

The more Zane listened, the more appalled he became. This imposter had potentially defamed his character and manipulated Kai into tarnishing his permanent record. Not only that but they said a bunch of stuff the real Zane would never say. He still can’t believe Kai fell for it. The white ninja wasn’t going to let this person go so easily. He’s going to find them and deliver karma.

“I must get to the bottom of this.” Zane didn’t hesitate to begin his own quest to solve this mystery.

“Wait! But who’s gonna bail me out!? You can’t just leave me here! Zane!” Kai banged on the glass but the white ninja was out of the building within seconds.

He better get back before he has to go into those prison showers...

Zane went straight to Borg Industries and searched the data of the phone number. Turns out the owner of the phone was someone named Brent M. That’s one clue down. Next, the nindroid searched for all the Brent M.s in Ninjago, assuming the owner of the phone had some sort or relation with anyone the ninja knew. He looked through their family history, Bookface accounts, and even Instameter. It was time-consuming but a ninja never quits. The nindroid kept snooping until something caught his glowing optics in the ninteenth Brent M.’s Instameter. He recognized the person that apparently had blood ties with him.

This Brent was a distant relative of none other than Ash, the Master of Smoke. Looks like he’ll be paying the elemental master a visit...

One moment the Elemental Masters were minding their business and the next thing they knew, a freak blizzard struck their house. Before they could investigate, a figure clad in white marched in.

“Zdravstvuyte Zane!” Karlof greeted the nindroid cheerily, oblivious to the bitter cold and the ice ninja’s dark expression, “Why visit at time like this?”

“Where. Is. Ash?” Zane glowered, his voice distorted with rage and the calm way he spoke made it all the more terrifying.

“Oh! Ash hiding in kitchen! Ash! Say hello to Zane!” Karlof unwittingly ratted out the Master of Smoke he spotted under the table in the other room.

It took less than a split second before Ash found himself encased in ice from the neck down. Right in front of him was Zane and now he wished the phrase ‘if looks could kill’ was true because death was much more merciful than what the nindroid probably has in store for him.

“You were the one who called Kai, am I correct?” The ice ninja hovered over the incapacitated Elemental Master with a voice to match the terrible cold.

“W--w what are y-you t-t-talking about...?!” Ash asked through clattering teeth.

“Don’t feign innocence. I tracked down the call and you’re the only person with access to that number as well as knowing Kai’s.”

The Master of Smoke should’ve known Zane would find out. The nindroid never knows when to quit.

“Dude, it was just a prank!” The Master of Smoke confessed, “No one was physically hurt so what’s the big deal?”

“Oh? And what if I get destroy all your belongings and then say it’s just a prank? Will that make it better? I can do that right now if that’s what you think.” Zane went for the cupboards and found Ash’s collection of snacks from his home country.

“Y-you’re not r-r-really gonna d-do that a-are you?” Ash asked but the white ninja didn’t respond. The nindroid mutely dropped a handful of Gansitos onto the ground and began stomping on them.

“No! Anything but that! Stop!” The Elemental Master begged but the nindroid moved on to the de la Rosa Mazapan and scattered the fragile peanut candy all over the already ruined Gansitos, completely ignoring Ash’s pleas. He paused to give him an ultimatum, “Did I hear something? Oh well. I won’t stop until I hear an apology.” With that, he moved on to the Pulparindo, tearing up the tamarind pulp into shreds.

Ash still pleaded but Zane kept destroying his precious hoard like he didn’t exist. The nindroid crushed every last Vero Mango lollipop until he moved on to the next snack...

“No! Not the Takis! Anything but the Takis!” Ash cried out and still, the white ninja ignored him. He opened a bag and fetched a bottle of milk and was about to pour it onto the super spicy snack until...

“Okay, okay! Fine! I’m sorry! I’ll tell everyone the truth! Just leave the Takis alone!” Ash finally caved in, now a blubbering mess.

“Are you gonna tell them everything?” Zane made sure Ash was being truthful. He wasn’t going to accept a half-assed mumbled fake apology like Lloyd does all the time.

“Yes! I’m sorry! Now let me go!”

The white ninja took an uncomfortably long time pondering over the thought of freeing Ash.

“Okay, but not only will you have to tell Kai the truth but also...”

Several hours later...

Kai was surprised to see Ash with Zane once he finally returned.

“Zane, what the hell is Ash doing here?” Kai asked.

“Tell him.” Zane curtly ordered the Master of Smoke to speak for himself.

“Uh... you remember that call ‘Zane’ sent you...?” Ash started.

“Yeah...?”

“It’s actually a funny story. You see, it all started when...”

More hours later...

Before he knew it, Kai was now stuck in a specially made fireproof cell in the Kryptarium Prison. Zane stood before him but this time, he couldn’t bring himself to even look at him.

“What did I do this time!?” The fire ninja complained.

“Really? You’re asking me that after committing attempted murder and arson?” Zane retorted dryly, “Now I’m gonna have to wait for Ash to get out of the hospital before he can make up for what he did...”

“And that is...?”

“Originally, I was going to make him pay for you bail but that will have to wait.”

“Really? You let him off the hook that easily?”

“Not exactly,” Zane retorted with an eerily calm aura, "That alone wouldn’t have been good enough. He will also have to drive me to my appointments with a therapist for separation counseling.”

“Hehe, gotta love when your humor switch is on!” Kai chuckled.

Zane stared at Kai coldly and briefly opened his chest panel to reveal the switch was off. Without saying a word, the ice ninja left.

“Zane...?” Now Kai was getting scared. What if they really do break up? Even worse, Zane was already gone.

...

The anguished cry of the ice ninja’s name echoed across the entire realm of Ninjago.

[99-nct]

𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤 ⟡ yandere! jungwoo

-pairing: yandere! jungwoo x reader

-word count: am i supposed to count?

-warnings: gore, violence, mentions of blood, implied sex, use of drugs, and death

-lowercase intended

-⟡-

it was the end of the week. a sense of relief washed over, for she wasn’t needed anymore. she was free.

until the reality sank in. she was alone and no place to go. tears streamed down her cheeks as her strong, emotionless facade crumbled.

was that one moment of satisfaction worth it?

the neon street lights flickered on, signifying the coming of the moon and the departure of the sun. the old familiar sign came into focus, the yellow letters of Regulate flickering rapidly. 

as soon as the door opened, a small bell began to chime, announcing her arrival. his eyes flashed with recognition, and his lips curled up into a soft smile.

“what can i get for you, miss..?” he said feigning ignorance to her annoyed expression.

“you already know jungwoo,” she replied, pulling up a stool and resting her elbows on the countertop.

he slowly noticed the tear-stained tracks that glistened on her cheek. as jungwoo raised his hand, she flinched. but the blow never arrived.

“who made you sad?” he asked as he gently trailed his fingers up her face, “don’t be sad. you’ll make me sad.”

“it’s nothing,” she said, trying to hide her face from his gaze. the moment of embarrassment and shame soon came to pass as a click reached her ears.

“your drink,” the bartender, jaehyun announced, a smirk evident.

grateful for the interference, she quietly sipped her drink, the bitter taste of the alcohol washing down her throat. lost in her thoughts, she sat oblivious to eyes trained on her face.  

“hey,” she said with hesitancy to no one in particular, “can i stay over?”

“sure.” jungwoo responded, sliding over, “do you want another drink?”

“i guess,” she said, almost unsure if the words coming out were truly hers.

“mojito or margarita...?” he asked, shaking a bottle of carbonated water.

“give me the strongest thing you’ve got.” she said, chugging the rest of her drink, “don’t leave me here when i pass out.”

she wasn’t sure how many rounds she had done after a while, but there was one thing she was sure of, a dull ticking noise that resounded in her ears. shut up. her vision started to dance with white specks. get out! loud noises resounded in her head, as she relived her argument. just go and kill yourself. her eyes began to feel heavy, and before she was aware of it, she was asleep.

-⟡-

when she awoke again, the warm sensation lingered. pulling the sheets closer to her body- wait. she doesn’t have any sheets.

suddenly awake, she scrambled to observe her surroundings. a small bed with metal posts was tucked into a corner, with a large circular window above the headrest that looked out at a city skyline. a lamp placed near the edge of the couch that she was laying in, illuminating the room in a soft glow.

a small note was tapped to the wall.

hey! if you are reading this, you must be awake :) i went out to go get some painkillers and medicine for your hangover. help yourself to the food in the fridge, i have strawberry yogurt! ♡ junguwu 

she couldn’t help but smile. getting up, she ventured forth into the hallway.

when the front door opened, she was not ready to be seen. so he saw her in full glory, dumping a bag of chocolate chips in her mouth with her left hand while the other hand dispensed whip cream out of a large container. all this was happening while balancing a tub on ice cream on her left knee while holding the fridge open with her right foot.

“what the-”

shocked, she dropped the ice cream. 

his face contorted in shock, but that confusion soon morphed into laughter. “i haven’t even been gone 30 minutes and you’ve already raided my fridge.” he managed to say as he bent over in a fit of laughter. a cloud of red enveloped her face as she pushed the fridge shut and placed the chocolate chips bag on the pristine counter. 

“are you, upset...?” she asked warily. he patted her shoulder reassuringly. 

“don’t sweat it. i already saw this coming so i bought replacements.” as he lifted up a disposable plastic bag.

the two cuddled up on the couch, munching on the remainder of the chocolate chips.

“hey,” she said, “did you know stressed spelled backward is desserts? no wonder i stress eat.” jungwoo stared at her for a while letting what she had said sink in.

“stop.”

-⟡-

“you're fired.”

“i’m sorry, what?” she questioned in disbelief and amazement, still not sure if she had heard correctly, “really?”

the woman looked at her, unsure how to answer, “sorry, i’m just carrying out orders. if you have a problem, you can speak with your bos-”

“thanks, i’ll be going now,” she responded briskly as she picked up her purse, “i will talk to him, thanks for the suggestion.”

knocking on the large brass door, she waited for a response. hearing none, she proceeded to open the heavy door. she heard some sounds coming from the back, and against her better judgment, decided to investigate.

qian fucking kun. with a woman. in his office.

“i’m gonna take my leave now,” she said, her face flushed as the explicit scene came into focus.

“wait a minute,” he said, back still facing her. it was a threatening tone that escaped his lips, sounding more like a demand than a request.

“what,” she said, holding the door ajar, “if you want me to ‘get in on it’ with you, i refuse.”

“awww, so cold,” he scorned, fixing his clothes before turning around. “do you think sex is all i think about?”

“yes” she replied curtly. the woman behind him quickly slipped out of the office, rushing past her through the door. “the engagement is over kun, i ended it.”

“you mean you ran,” he said, inspecting his watch, “you are the one who ran away from your family. and yes, i am quite serious about being with you.”

“serious enough to be fooling around with women in your office,” she exclaimed, her face seething with rage. “i’ve had enough of your bullshit. thank you for firing me.” she curtly bowed and left.

-⟡-

“can i get a job here?”

“no” jaehyun deadpanned. her eyes followed his hands polishing the glasses, “it doesn’t seem that hard.”

“jungwoo would be too distracted by you to work well,” he said dismissively waving his rag, “besides, you have no experience.”

“well okay,” she pouted, “do you know anyone who needs a helping hand?”

“it’s that front door, it needs you to go through it.”

“you’re so mean!” she said, slamming her fists down on the counter. grabbing her glass, she hopped off of the stool, “i’ll be back”

“where are you going?” jungwoo asked, alerting the two of his presence.

“holy shit jungwoo,” jaehyun exclaimed, “did you just get here?”

“just now” he said smiling as he slid into through the small doors. leaning his head to the side, he stared at her, “are you leaving now?”

“yeah,” she groaned while sliding off the stool, “gotta go hustle. early morning grind.”

“its 7 o’clock in the evening,” jaehyun drawled, rolling his eyes, “good luck i guess.”

-⟡-

she had no luck. in finding a job or a place to stay. no response from everywhere she applied. it was suspicious. jungwoo had reassured her that she’d find a job soon but nothing arrived.

taking matters into her own hands, she visited the many companies that had given no response.

“we got a visit saying you weren’t interested in the position anymore, so we hired someone else.”

“hold up a second,” she whipped out her phone, “did he look like this?”

“no, he had, i think, orange hair,” the accountant scratching his head said, “can i see your phone?”

hesitantly, she placed the device in his outstretched hand. his eyes widened at the picture. “isn’t this that CEO of WayV?! is this some sort of joke?! why do you have this picture? i bet your some sort of stalker!” looking at the screen again, he zooms in on another picture, “wait a minute, this is him! this is the guy who came in!”

“are you fucking with me?” she exclaimed, snatching her phone back, “he’s my friend!”

“well, some friend he is if he’s messing with your wor- my apologies,” he said, averting his gaze.

“is everything okay over here? it was quite loud earlier,” a voice whispered behind her, “if you need some assistance, i can help you.”

“no thank-” she paused. “jungwoo, what are you doing here?”

embracing her, he snuggled his nose into her neck. “i’m here to see you?”

gulping, she shivered as she walked out with him. she didn’t tell jungwoo about her plans today.

-⟡-

“can someone pass me a drink?” she asked, slumping forward on the counter. Regulate had become something of a home for her, despite her attempts to avoid jungwoo. his recent behavior was flashing with warning signals, but she didn’t have anywhere else to go.

“of course!” was said simultaneously as the soft words escaped her lips. she looked up to be enraptured in soft brown eyes.

"quian kun, what are you doing here?" an accusatory voice rang out. his brows furrowed, kim jungwoo looked downright furious. his generally happy demeanor was replaced with an agitated scowl.

she grew wary, used to seeing such a display from her usually soft friend. kun wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in closer, "no what are you going to do? kill me?"

"you know full well what i am capable of," he replied as he kicked the wooden dutch doors open, strolling towards her seat. placing his hands on her arms, he yanked her out of kun's grasp, eliciting a gasp from the dazed woman.

she was not quite sure of what was going on. the only thing that registered in her head was a warm feeling that encased her body. lost in the feeling, her heavy eyes shut, blocking out a scene she would surely remember in a sober condition.

blood soaked the floor of the bar, the patrons too drunk to notice what was wrong.

-⟡-

her eyes fluttered open, a sense of deja vu settled in as she felt sheets under her. blinded by the sunlight streaming in, she began to sit up. jungwoo was hunched over something, a pair of pliers in his hand. sliding off the mattress, she made her way over.

“do you need help doing some-” she muttered, stopping the moment he came into focus. she wanted to scream, but no noise came out as she saw what jungwoo was crouching over.

kun’s dead eyes stared back at her, his appendages no longer attached to his body. jungwoo’s pliers were connected to his teeth, several were already missing. bones jutted out of his legs, destroyed beyond recognition.

she collapsed as jungwoo turned to face her. 

“love, what’s wrong?” he asked tilting his head. this action in itself seemed cute until she saw the blood smeared across his face.

she scrambled backward, terrified. jungwoo stood up, making his way over slowly. she began to look for an exit as her back hit the wall, each attempt seeming more likely to fail than the last.

“p-please don’t kill m-me,” she stammered, hiding behind her hands. his silence didn’t help her nerves as he reached into his back pocket. sitting on her legs, his hand caressed her cheek while the other pulled out a slender object.

a needle. the fine point gleamed ominously the more she stared at it.

“don’t worry,” he said, staring deep into her eyes, “it’ll just knock you out for a short time. it won’t kill you. i’ve been using it on you for a while so the effects won’t be as potent.”

she shivered as the metal grazed her skin. why couldn’t she move? how could she have been so dumb? sitting in self-hate, she couldn’t hear jungwoo gently reassuring her it wouldn’t hurt for long.

the sharp tip entered her skin so fast, she almost didn’t feel it. the darkness hit her at once, the feeling comforting and familiar.

“finally mine” he whispered, pulling her limp body close to his, “all mine.”

-⟡-

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

Curiosity and Consequence: Chapter One

A/N: Soooo ages ago (like around Halloween) my friend @of-treble-and-dragons and I came up with a thing. And we wrote the thing. Then we both got busy and forgot about it. But now I’m here to post this angsty collab! Also one of the characters may be familiar to you if you’re a longtime fan of Treble’s work... it was quite fun writing them. I’d say enjoy... but uhhhh, angst >:)

Warnings: talk of ghosts/supernatural creatures, paralysis, head injury, anxious thoughts, near suffocation, broken bones, threats of violence/torture (lmk if anything should be added!)

How Roman had managed to convince them all to do this, Virgil wasn’t sure. “This”, referring to an overnight stay at some mysterious castle on the outskirts of town. Heck, how on earth this whole “paranormal investigators” thing had started was a bit of a mystery to Virgil too. He didn’t entirely believe in the paranormal and supernatural, but he was still plenty wary on the off chance that they did exist. So as a general rule, Virgil preferred to avoid haunted places and areas known for cryptids or other unsavory creatures. Yet here he was, loading up their camera equipment and the questionable investigation tools into their car.

Just then, the reason Virgil agreed to any of these shenanigans at all walked out of their house. Logan. One of the hosts of their internet paranormal investigator show, and Virgil’s longtime kinda boyfriend. They never really made it official, but they danced around each other enough, and had plenty of interactions that weren’t exactly platonic, to suggest otherwise. Virgil was just too nervous to talk to Logan about the matter, and besides, what if he was misreading Logan’s feelings?

“Is everything ready to go?” Logan asked, grimacing at the investigation equipment Virgil had yet to load into the car. Logan was a firm disbeliever in the supernatural, and made his disapproval of the “scientific” (Roman’s words, not his) tools they used for their investigations very clear. However, despite his skepticism, the man had a somewhat unhealthy curiosity for the unknown. So Virgil took it upon himself to make sure that his idiot friends didn’t get hurt while trying to prove whether the paranormal was real or fake.

“Just about. Patton’s taking care of the sleeping bags and stuff, right?” Virgil asked.

“Yes. He also mentioned something about packing snacks for the ‘ghosts’ as well,” Logan muttered. Virgil let out a low chuckle, smirking at Logan’s disgruntled expression. Patton was the fourth and final member of their little group, and arguably had the most innocent stance on the supernatural. He believed that ghosts, cryptids, and the like were real, and was determined to become friends with one, much to the chagrin of his boyfriend, Roman. Roman believed that the paranormal was dangerous, and that the various creatures needed to be hunted down.

“Greetings, my fellow investigators! Are we ready to hunt some ghosts?” a loud voice proclaimed from behind Logan and Virgil. The two of them turned to see Roman walking up to them, Patton following with several bags on him, looking more like a pack mule than a person.

“If by ‘hunt ghosts’, you mean sleep in a frigid and desolate castle to prove they aren’t real, then yes,” Logan replied. Roman decided to ignore Logan’s comment, and instead turned to Virgil.

“So, you gonna show your face on camera tonight? The fans are dying to see you…” Roman sang. Virgil rolled his eyes, putting the last of the equipment in the car trunk.

“No. I don’t need my face all over the internet,” Virgil huffed.

“Aw, you’re no fun!” Roman whined, crossing his arms and looking more like an indignant five-year-old than a grown man. Virgil resisted the urge to roll his eyes again.

“Says the guy making us stay at a spooky castle,” he muttered.

“Hey, you all agreed to it!” Roman protested, arms flailing to the side and nearly smacking Patton in the face.

“Woah there, kiddo!” Patton flinched backwards away from the arm that just barely missed his nose. “I have enough trouble keeping these glasses on as is without a broken nose making it worse.” He chuckled, clearly amused with his own comment.

“My deepest apologies, Patton! Are you alright?” Roman asked, turning to Patton and taking his hand, squeezing it comfortingly. Patton flushed slightly at the action, and he gazed up at Roman with a soft smile.

“Okay we get it, you guys are cute. Can we leave now?” Virgil huffed in mock annoyance, smirking slightly.

“Eager, Edgar Allan Woe?” Roman teased, grabbing his keys out of his jacket pocket and walking to the driver’s side of the car.

“More like eager to get this over with,” Virgil retorted, climbing into the backseat with Patton, while Logan went to the front seat.

After arriving at the castle, the four investigators picked an open space to settle in for the night. Roman and Patton had taken to setting up their sleeping bags and readying their investigation equipment, while Logan and Virgil got their camera equipment ready. Virgil was getting a camera set up on a rolling tripod, while Logan made sure their handheld cameras had sufficient battery charge.

“I think I’m gonna go down the hallways and get some shots of the castle and stuff. That way we’ll have footage for the exposition voiceover,” Virgil said once the camera and all of its accessories were ready to go. Logan looked up from the cameras he was checking, raising an eyebrow at Virgil.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Logan asked.

“Nah, I’ll be fine. Besides, someone’s gotta keep an eye on the chickens,” Virgil said, gesturing over at Roman and Patton.

“Fair enough. Don’t go too far, this castle is old and there could be areas that are structurally unsound,” Logan warned.

“I’ll be careful. See ya in a bit,” Virgil replied, and headed off towards where they came in, rolling the camera along with him. Once he made it out of the main room they were staying in, Virgil hit record on the camera, and slowly made his way down the hallway. The castle was quite old and decrepit, sections of the stone wall crumbling and a thick layer of dust coating nearly every surface. Cobwebs were scattered everywhere, strung around like bizarre garlands. Water leaked through cracks in the ceiling, causing a loud resounding echo of droplets bouncing off stone foundations. Virgil made a mental note to not let Patton down this hallway.

A sudden feeling like ice trailing down his spine made Virgil halt in his tracks. His head whipped around, but no one was there. He gulped nervously, shaking his head.

“It’s a drafty old castle, you’re gonna feel cold,” he muttered to himself, continuing down the hall. His footsteps echoed as he walked, and for a split second, Virgil thought he heard two sets of footsteps, instead of just one. He stopped, glancing around once more.

“Logan?” he called out. Silence. Virgil sighed, turning back to the camera and guiding it down the hall.

Suddenly, something dashed past Virgil, brushing against his arm and causing a strangled shout to escape his lips. He stumbled to one side, his shoulder slamming into the wall as he lost his balance. He groaned in pain, and tried to bring his arm up to massage the sore spot. Virgil’s stomach twisted into knots when he realized a strange stiffness had come over his right arm, making him unable to move it.

“What the fuck?” Virgil murmured, fingers of his working hand brushing over his stiff arm. Childlike laughter echoed down the hall in response to Virgil’s soft utterance. His head whipped up, glancing around frantically, but no one was there.

“So either ghosts cause paralysis, or one of those nerds is messing with me,” Virgil scoffed, but there was a slight tremor in his voice.

“Oh, you’re going to wish I was a ghost, darling,” a voice crooned. Virgil took a sharp intake of breath and he bolted back towards Logan and the others. He didn’t know where this voice was coming from, or even who it belonged to, but frankly he didn’t cared. All he knew was that he had to get out fast.

Something latched around his ankle, causing Virgil to fall flat on his face, head smacking harshly against the floor. He groaned, pushing himself up with his good arm. He could feel blood trickling down the side of his head, and a stiff numbness crawling up his leg. Then, with dawning horror, Virgil realized that whatever had grabbed him was still holding on. He twisted around the best he could, and locked eyes with the “man” behind him.

The man was incredibly pale, and wore all white, his appearance contrasting greatly with the dreary castle. He was dressed rather simply, in a white button up and white slacks. Everything about this man seemed to be pure and pristine, despite the fact that they were in a dusty, dank hallway. Even the man’s hair was pure white, and tousled in what could have been considered a fashionable style, but the man’s face ruined the picture of perfection he seemed so desperate to portray. His eyes were swirling black pits, with only a white pinprick of light in the center. Sharp and jagged black teeth were crowded into his mouth, and Virgil vaguely wondered how he could talk with them.

“Who- what-” Virgil gasped out, voice trembling. The man threw his head back and laughed. It was that same childlike laugh from before, and it sent fear crawling up Virgil’s spine.

“The name’s Apathy, and it’s so wonderful to have someone to play with again,” he said, letting go of Virgil’s leg and bowing with a flourish. Virgil took this chance to scramble away from Apathy, but didn’t get far with only two working limbs.

“Oh, it’s so much fun to watch you struggle, but-” Apathy began, and faster than Virgil could process, he pounced on Virgil and grabbed the back of his neck firmly. “My friend can be very… particular, and I’d rather not keep them waiting.” He finished, squeezing Virgil’s neck for emphasis, causing him to choke.

“What do you- why-” Virgil croaked, and Apathy’s childlike laughter rang out.

“It gets so boring in this castle, dearheart. And I can’t wait to begin playing with you,” he crooned into Virgil’s ear. Virgil tried to jerk away from the feeling of Apathy’s hot breath on his ear, but the longer Apathy kept him pinned down, the more he couldn’t move. Soon, Virgil couldn’t move at all, and was helpless as Apathy dragged him down the hall, away from his friends.

Roman made a triumphant sound of success as his investigation equipment finally whirred to life. He turned the device over in his hands, inspecting it to make sure all the parts were in working order. It was supposed to detect if any ghosts or other paranormal creatures were in the vicinity. To date, the device hadn’t entirely proven its worth. There was one occasion when it started to beep frantically while the four of them were investigating a different location, but then it ended up being a raccoon, much to Roman’s disappointment and Logan’s smug satisfaction. To this day, Roman insisted that the raccoon must have been possessed.

“Any ghosts?” a voice piped up. Roman glanced over to see Patton, peering out at him from a mound of blankets.

“Have enough blankets, my heart?” Roman teased, chuckling slightly.

“I’m cold!” Patton pouted, stubbornly burrowing himself further into his blanket nest. Roman smirked, leaning closer to Patton, the action causing the other man to blush slightly.

“I bet I could keep you warm,” Roman murmured.

“Roman!” Patton squealed, breaking off into giggles. Roman opened his mouth to say something else, but hesitated. Something wasn’t right. He glanced around frantically, eyes widening when his suspicions were confirmed.

“Where’s Virgil? Usually he’s made some snarky comment about Patton and I by now…” Roman said, his teasing remark falling flat and the real concern for his friend slipping through.

“He went to record footage for the voiceover. However… he has been gone for quite some time,” Logan said, glancing warily at the doorway.

“I knew it! The paranormal is real, and Virgil’s disappearance proves it!” Roman cried valiantly, springing to his feet. Logan and Patton stared at him with slight horror and concern, causing Roman’s confident stance to melt.

“Roman, a number of very real things could have happened to Virgil. He could have gotten lost, ended up in an unstable area of the castle, or perhaps he is being diligent and making sure we have plenty of footage. Ghosts are most certainly not the cause of this,” Logan snapped. Roman raised an eyebrow at Logan’s sudden ferocity, but didn’t comment on it.

“Then it could have been a demon! Or some other dastardly creature that has tried to snatch our beloved compatriot from us, but fear not! I shall rescue our ever gloomy stormcloud!” Roman declared, and boldly strode over to Logan, then bent down and picked up one of the handheld cameras. “And, I will bring back proof!”

“Roman-” Logan started, but he had already marched out of the room, the camera and his investigation device in hand.

The castle was rather gloomy and quite dark, and Roman found himself wishing that he had thought to grab a flashlight before leaving. Not that he would have any way to hold it, as one hand was holding the camera, while the other held his investigation device. The grid on its screen was clear of any blips, and the device had yet to make any sounds. He glanced over to his camera, and after a bit of awkward maneuvering, managed to press record.

“Hello, dear viewers. Roman here, and I’m afraid this may not be the most cheerful of episodes. We have barely begun our investigation, and our ever mysterious cameraman, Virgil, has gone missing,” Roman paused, looking down at his device once more, which still remained silent. “I know many of you are desperate for his face reveal, but I never quite pictured it this way, with me gallantly-”

A shrill beep from the device in Roman’s hand cut him off. His gaze shot to the device’s screen, and Roman’s brow furrowed in confusion. The grid seemed to be glitching in and out, and a blip would appear, then disappear almost instantly before popping up somewhere else. He looked up, his gaze slowly travelling up and down the hallway. It seemed completely empty, except…

“Oh no,” Roman gasped. He jogged down to the end of the hall, reaching the overturned rolling tripod with its camera. Something had definitely happened to Virgil.

Suddenly, the hall dropped in temperature, making Roman far colder than he already was. He shivered, and was shocked to discover that he could see his breath fogging out in the cold air. The device in Roman’s hand began to slowly beep, and the screen seemed to have permanently frozen on a glitch. He shook the device as it continued to beep, the sounds beginning to pick up in speed and pitch. The screen remained the same, and Roman looked up and glanced around. Nothing was there… but the shadows seemed to be creeping closer.

“Hello? Is someone there?” Roman called out nervously. There was nothing but the sound of the beeps coming from the device growing louder.

Suddenly, the shadows seemed to leap out at Roman, an inky tendril snaking around his middle and pinning his arms to his sides. Both the device and the camera were lost from his grip, and a startled yelp escaped his mouth. He struggled against his shadowy bonds, his mouth opening to cry out for his friends. But before he could do so, a cold hand clamped over his mouth and he was tugged backwards, now pressed against someone’s body. Roman desperately tried to squirm away, but only got haunting laughter and cold breath against his ear.

“I must say, you are one of the more interesting humans that my associate and I have come across,” a voice said, the sound giving Roman the sensation of ice crawling down his spine. Roman heard the figure snap their fingers, and the tendrils cinched tighter around him, causing him to let out a muffled yelp. The figure removed their hand for a brief moment, but before Roman even thought about shouting for help, another tendril shot out and closed over his mouth.

The figure stepped around Roman, finally giving him a view of his captor. They wore an oversized suit and had skin that was deathly pale. Their dark hair hung in their gray eyes, and a haunting and cruel grin was spread across their face. They crouched down and picked up the device that Roman had dropped, the beeps now shrill and distorted. The figure straightened up, turning over the device in their hands and regarding it with a raised eyebrow. The device suddenly sparked and the sound droned out.

“Shame. It really was an interesting little thing,” the figure said, tossing the broken device over their shoulder and focusing their attention back on Roman. He tried to demand answers from the figure in front of him, but only muffled cries escaped past the inky tendril. The figure laughed, and stepped closer to Roman.

“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you,” they taunted, reaching out and trailing their fingers down Roman’s cheek in a mock tender gesture. Roman growled low in his throat, glaring at the figure.

“Such fire in you! We’ll change that soon enough,” the figure said, smirking. They made a clenching motion with their hand, and the tendrils squeezed tighter around Roman, causing him to desperately try and gasp in air. The tendrils showed no sign of loosening, in fact they seemed to be growing tighter still.

A sudden sickening snap was heard, and Roman let out a muffled scream of pain. He slumped in the tendrils’ grip, his vision growing fuzzy with pain. The figure leaned down, cruelly grasping Roman’s chin and forcing him to look them in the eyes.

“Have no fear, we are far from done playing together. I’m certain there are plenty of other ways I can break you,” they said with a lilt to their voice. A cruel grin spread across their face, and with that, Roman slipped into unconsciousness.

After some time had passed Patton was growing more worried about Roman and Virgil not being back yet. He tore his gaze away from the door and glanced over at Logan who was nose deep in a book.

“Logan?” Patton called out softly so as not to startle him from his book.

Logan peered over his glasses at Patton. “Hmm? What is it?”

“Roman and Virgil still aren't back yet and it's been almost an hour since they left. Maybe we should go try to find them. They could have gotten lost… or worse…” A tinge of fear came through in Patton’s voice. “I mean, aren't you the least bit concerned about Virgil?”

The question made Logan frown slightly. “Of course I care about Virgil but…” He cut himself off. It was clear that he wasn't showing the proper emotional response to this situation; so instead of arguing he simply let out a long sigh. “Come on, let us go find our lost adventurers.”

Patton’s eyes lit up and he leapt from his chair. He gathered up a warm jacket and flashlight before heading out the door.

Logan shook his head in exasperation. He then snapped the book closed and placed it gently on the ground. After grabbing his own coat and flashlight he went to catch up with Patton.

Tag List: @adorably-angsty @alix-the-skeleton @allthemetalsoftherainbow @armageddonhascome @backatthebein @bangthekobrakid @bloodropsblog @cefinitely-rolo @coffeestudylive @cosmic-chu @cyndaquil17 @dani-jeanso @didsomeonesayprince @emphoenixcat @every-day-insomniac @fandomsandanythingelse @freekiphotography @freepaperie081 @hanramz-the-fander @i-need-a-social-life-2710 @i-really-dig-the-purple @ironwoman359 @justanotherpurplebutterfly @kanejandkruge @kitsuneprideleader @kittycake574 @le2712 @littlemiracle05 @loganpatton @lollingtothemax @look-its-meme @loverofpizzaandallthingssweet @lynlinked @mewsicalmiss @midnightcandy @moonstonefox @musicsavedmefromdeath @mystrangedarkson @nightmarejasmine @not-as-smart @punsterterry @purplepatton @quoth-the-sparrow @radioactivehelena @royallyanxious @ruuworld @sanders-trash-4ever @save-me-oh-dream-of-mine @shadowsfromthesun @shygirl4991 @sleepyssnail @softbludemon @softnic @sombraplayslazertag @sweetinsomniac @the-fandoms-are-takin-over @theresneverenoughfandoms @thisrandomperson102 @thuriweaver @vigilantvirgil

[mirthless-misanthrope]

When Snow Turned To Rain Part I (Jotaro Kujo Imagine) Shenmue AU

A/N: alright so. this fic is purely self-indulgent and I’ve been debating posting it since... well, I don’t know if anyone will like it... but I decided why not.

This is the first part of the series,,,, and any future updates will depend on how inspired I get or if anybody else other than me ends up wanting more.

For those who don’t know what Shenmue is: it’s a game series kind of similar to Yakuza. It’s about an 18 year old boy named Ryo that watches his father get killed by the antagonist (Lan Di). I tried to make this enjoyable for everyone, but just know it’s based on Shenmue!

in this AU, Jotaro witnessed his father get killed by DIO and his lackeys (i.e. Hol Horse, Vanilla Ice, etc.) and is pretty mad about it. I mean, who wouldn’t be? The story takes place in a town called Sakuragaoka (and later, other places by there). He only lives with Holly now. Reader or S/O is his childhood best friend, and he always protects her from bullies and... pretty much everything. I wrote this to be like SDC Jotaro since he’s 18 in this.

Trigger Warnings: harassment, swearing, jotaro is kinda cold, bit of a cliffhanger whoops

Enjoy!

(Under the Cut since uhhh idk it’s kind of long)

Jotaro has the weight of his father’s death on his shoulders.

… At least, that’s what he thinks. He claims the death is his fault for being weak and unprepared when DIO showed up with his lackeys, but I know that can’t be true. He’s so strong, always protecting me and practicing his martial arts, so there’s no way it was his fault. DIO just gave an unfair fight. Well, that’s what Holly tells me as I ask her where Jotaro has been for the past few days.

“Could you tell him that I’m looking for him, Holly-san? I’m… worried about him,” I frown at the blonde before me, sighing when she agrees to. “Thank you. Here, I brought all the work we’ve been doing in class so he isn’t stressed when he comes back to school.” My bag almost falls as I pull out the stack of papers and hand them to her. While doing so, I see Jotaro walking through the hall behind Holly and panic at the glare he sends my way. “W-Well, I have to get home, bye!” And I take off running.

It’s normal for him to glare at anyone that tries to interact with him. I’m used to it since I grew up with him, but that doesn’t mean it can’t scare me sometimes. The frustration in his eyes wasn’t directed at me, but rather… the situation I put him in. His mother had to calm me down because he’s been gone. She knows I care for him and will likely ask a million questions… 

I take a mental note to apologize to him later.

...

Stars illuminate the sky on my walk home. As unsafe as it is for a girl my age to be wandering the streets of Sakuragaoka alone, I have no other way home. That doesn’t ease my anxiety at all though. It turns out, I’m so used to having Jotaro with me during my walks at night that being alone makes me uneasy. Darkness shrouds each alleyway as I rush towards my house. Everything seems so much scarier when it’s dark and quiet like this, so I want to get inside as soon as I can.

A few punks don’t think I deserve such a fate, however.

“Oi, you’re Kujo’s bitch, ain’t ya? He should know better than to let a pretty thing like you walk around alone,” a man grabs my wrist and yanks me into an alley, shoving me up against the wall. It’s painful, but I’m more panicked than worried about injuries… “Guys like us though? We’d never let ya leave our sight.” His cackle sends shivers down my spine. This is my absolute worst nightmare, and I have no way out of this. Nobody else is around, and even if they were, they’d be crazy if they tried to interfere with the group of punks crowded around me. “No one else’s around, huh? Why don’t ya come home with us, baby?”

His hand grips my arm tight enough to leave bruises as I try to run. “Please, I’m just trying to get home, my grandma’s expecting me.” My voice quivers at their angered eyes, but I still manage to get the hand off of me and run for it. I don’t look back as I sprint to my home and throw myself inside. No, I don’t look back, since I don’t want to be caught by those perverts again. Why can’t they see I’m not interested in them? And… why do they think I belong to Jotaro? My mind turns into a whirlwind of questions, spinning around and around, and I find myself falling onto the sofa we have. I can’t even get myself up to my bedroom. Somehow, I pass out there on the uncomfortable couch as I think about Jotaro, wondering if he would even care if he found out about this.

...

The next day at school is… awkward for me. I don’t want to be there. I just want to be at home and rest, but my grandma said I needed to go for Jotaro. For Jotaro, I remind myself, you’re doing this for Jotaro. This repeats like a mantra as the same punks from last night approach me again, throwing slurs and raunchy pick-up lines my way. It repeats even more when I get called to the office and told that my mother asked for me to go home early. And then, like a broken record, it repeats. Again. And again. 

Today is exhausting for me. It feels like everything is happening all at once and I find myself thanking my mother for once. Going home early feels like a godsend after those punks wouldn’t stop harassing me for being alone. Jesus, they really don’t want to leave me alone. I guess I depend on Jotaro a lot… 

Speaking of Jotaro… I see him in the distance talking to a little girl - Megumi, if I remember correctly - and he’s not being as harsh as usual. Megumi seems to be okay with talking to him, and that brings the first smile of the day to my face. But… I wouldn’t want to ruin their conversation. So instead of greeting the two, I look around for a different way home… that is, until I hear my name being called.

Megumi waves me over, sounding distressed. I hesitate for a moment, looking up at Jotaro, but he just seems mildly irritated. At least he’s not giving me a death glare today. I don’t think I could handle that. With a light sigh, I head over to the two and notice a kitten. “Her mommy got hit by a black car, a-and she’s all alone, and Mama won’t let me adopt her,” Megumi explains, “will you help me and Jojo take care of her?” Without hesitation, I nod.

“Of course I’ll help take care of her! You know I love cats.” The words slip out as easy as they can. It’s… not a lie, but it’s not the main reason I agree to help, either. I want to make sure Jotaro is alright, and talk to him about his father. He must be going through so much, I find myself thinking as I look up at his guarded expression. “Jotaro, I… It’s been a while, how are you?” Bad way to start this off, my mind screams as he glares down at me. “I-I mean… Are you doing okay? I… I heard about your father,” I frown, “and I… I’ve been collecting the schoolwork for you! Holly-san answered the door, so I asked her to take it to you for me. I hope she didn’t, um… say anything.”

“Yare yare, you’re rambling.” His scoff makes me tense up.

“Yeah, I… suppose I did start rambling. Well… I-I’d better go home.” I take a step back, bowing my head, but before I can get far, Jotaro calls out to me.

“Wait. Did you see a black car come through here when it rained?”

...

I freeze in my tracks. “Yes, I did... It raced past me and splashed me with a mud puddle.” Narrowing my eyes at the memory, I let out a sigh. “They didn’t even apologize for ruining the sweater I was wearing…” As I think back to that moment, a scowl darkens my face. That really pissed me off. Who did they think they were? 

Jotaro asks a few more questions, but I don’t have helpful responses for him so he gets a bit frustrated. “Gotta go,” he grunts, “see you.” And he’s gone, leaving me with Megumi and the kitten. My heart aches at his actions. I guess I’m not useful to him.

Megumi calls out to me again. “Jojo seems fond of you,” she coos, “he had a soft look in his eyes when he saw you.” Her giggle makes me flustered as I realize what she’s implying.

Soon, I would find myself wishing her naive assumptions were right.

And soon, I would regret ever saying anything to Jotaro about said assumptions.