#I panic a little when I realize it's a character's very last appearance. this is such a long show

[llycaons]

ep50 (4/4): super special extra reunion post time

I've said this already but for the uninitiated: I was a dumb idiot watching this for the first time and when this shot appeared I got all excited because for a split second I thought. I thought wwx was on one knee. like to propose 😭 obviously for several reasons that was not what was happening but I always think of it when they cut to this shot

ahh they're in the green of summer. growing things, life. not going towards winter. maybe the colors and season was why I think of jc and wwx's relationship as ending, but wwx and lwj's as persisting. that color symbolism is powerful

oh god those mountains are so gorgeous behind them

see he's wearing that patchy blue-black robe set from before! this could not have POSSIBLY been all in the same day.

anyway, bittersweet but ultimately for the best. not just wwx leaving to find some equilibrium in this world he's come back to, but lwj feeling the full force of his own affection and parting with wwx anyway. not exactly the same situation as lwj's parents were in, but significant all the same. wwx needs to be loved and cherished, but he also needs to be free. commitment (a collar) was something he feared in his previous life, and I don't think it's a stretch to say even now he's jumpy about it. after years of persecution and violence, letting him feel everything he needs to, establish himself in the world, and then come back when he's ready is one of the best things he can do for himself. staying in CR for a few weeks to rest and get ready to go back on the road made sense, but several things in cql point to CR not being wwx's preferred permanent home, especially the way this finale played out

lwj looks so beautiful in these shots my goodness. and he's not wearing all white anymore :)

wwx and lwj (and this shot) are SO dramatic I'm sure they didn't need to do All That. and yet they did. and I'm happy for it

ah but he'll still miss lwj. he plays the song as he goes - don't forget, I'll be back to ask about this. I still care about you. I won't forget either. I'll see you again

this must be a fragment of conversation from the walk up. I think wwx does know - he's teasing, and lwj is reassuring - yes, I know it. I've known it for a long time. I'll tell you, when you come back

one of the most formative pieces of meta I've read described the name of the song as lwj's confession piece, which is why I always find it odd that postcanon fics don't often incorporate it. I guess if you're not worried about censorship, you can just have them make out. but it's such an elegant and thematically appropriate mechanism of confession, and the deep significance it holds to the characters make it especially suitable. that's how I envision the confession happening

back to wwx after an unspecified amount of time, but definitely not the same day unless wwx very quickly and without stopping his music changed clothes. I think, minimum three months, max 12 . probably more like 6-8

reading get-togethers, I always get nervous about him standing right near the cliff edge. what if he falls! but he's easily 10 ft away from the edge so I guess I can rest my heart

on that topic, there's not much cover for them. if they wanna fuck it's going to be right out in the open. unless they pitch a tent or something ig

but honestly, if they never so much as kissed before this, they're probably going to take their time getting closer. they jumped right into intimacy in the book but even with their more consistent relationship here I think it would take a while. if they DID kiss in ep43, maybe not quite so long, but it's not like there's a rush. they're together, they'll go at their own pace. I feel like a lot of fics rush it, but sometimes the journey fun and exciting all on its own

ah this is so beautiful

HERE IT IS!!!

oh and he FREEZES. I always assumed they planned to meet, but he seems genuinely shocked here, so maybe not

aw I always liked this smile. a secret little thing, private and excited. anticipatory

and there he is with the 🥺 vibes. before he breaks out into the big smile, he just turns with that look like this is the most important thing he's ever looked upon

and there's that smile. he's okay, he's okay. we've come full circle, right down to a cliffside meeting. he's happy, and healthy, and ready. he made it! and now the next chapter of their lives can begin

man I don't even know what to say. it's the end! what a journey. what a performance from everyone. what a lot to digest. what a lot to love. what a lot of grieve. this story will be with me for the rest of my life no matter what. wei wuxian and lan wangji, always in my heart. I love you all

personal highlights:

when I picked up that jgy was giving lxc a test, that was neat

lqr, running up, yelling "running is prohibited! loud voices are prohibited!"

jin ling looking over for wwx with such a yearning expression on his face...

the entire scene in the autumn courtyard. TAKE CARE 😭

wwx being happy and playful with chenqing 😊

wwx happy crying!!! as is his right!

waving bye with his dizi like he did when he was young!

wwx's mid-forest crying really did hit me ugh xz was so good in this episode as he always is

lwj playing in the springs and wwx walking down to join him on dizi...what was happening there 👀

remembering their shared vow and 'you deserve to be wei ying' are like two of the highest points in the SERIES for me

wwx quoting the 'do not associate with evil' line to nhs lmao

I really do love the entire cliffside separation scene AND the reunion scene of course but of particular note

them being dramatic and going in opposite directions of a massive mountain

"When I return, you better have a name for this song"/"I have long known it."

wwx freezing when he hears his name in lwj's voice, the tiny smile, the slow turn, the big relieved grin. my god. my god. all of it.

everything is just so beautiful 😊🥰♥🎉🎇❤🧡💛💚💙💜🖤🤍 and love is real!!! thank you the untamed!!!!

[hazbin-a-helluvamagines]

How bout angel dust, Verosika and Alastor with a puppy hybrid s/o? Like, they have puppy ears and tail and has some dog like tendencies?

For example: they love to bite and play with dog toys,they bark and growl, they LOVE headpats and being called "good boy/girl"

You can remove 2 characters if it's too much.

"Good Puppy!" ; Alastor, Angel Dust, Verosika Mayday

I'll be honest here: I have no idea how you got this to happen, because this man absolutely HATES dogs, and therefore hated you when he first met you. And he's honestly quite possibly the worst one to be with as a puppy hybrid.

He was exceptionally cruel, calling you a "mangey mongrel", a "rabid mutt", and just about any cruel name for a dog under the sun.

Will try to make you act more human. He'd despise your dog features. Dogs remind him of his death, and that's something he'd rather not deal with.

If you've managed to start dating him, he'll be slightly more polite, but still make his distaste for those features very apparent to you.

"S/O, must you constantly be wiggling that furry abomination?"

It isn't that he means to be mean, but, well, in some primal way, you scare him, and he doesn't know how to cope with feeling that helpless.

If you growl or bark at him, you will ROYALLY piss him off, and he will actually need to leave to avoid either lashing out at you or having a mental breakdown.

Fortunately, with enough time and patience, he will eventually calm down and begin to regard you as safe, and not someone he needs to fear. Then he'll become noticeably kinder to you.

"Well, aren't you just a dandy little pup! Excited to see me, hm? Such a good boy/girl~."

He may have started off cold, but he's trying to be better for you now.

He isn't sure how he feels about dog toys and the like, but hey, he's a literal cannibal and serial killer, who is he to judge? As long as you're having fun.

Eventually, he'll begin to give you those headpats you so crave, realizing how happy it makes you. He can stand a bit of discomfort for your sake.

But seriously... please don't bark or growl at him, he still doesn't like the moment of panic he's forced to feel when that happens.

He wouldn't do it to you, so don't do it to him. That's his one boundary with your dog-like behavior/appearance.

Oh boy. He'd be the one constantly flirting and teasing you for your traits, but in a loving (and very NSFW) manner.

"What's with the tail, Ears? Got a pet play kink or somethin'?"

When he finds out you ACTUALLY enjoy being called a good boy, that actually sets off every single one of his teasing instincts.

Every single day, you'll hear a joke about you having a praise kink, purely because it makes Angel laugh.

But he's only teasing, of course. If you actually tell him you're uncomfortable, of course he'll stop. The last thing he wants is for you to feel uncomfortable with him.

He'll also get you dog toys and chew toys if you find them fun!

And his absolute favorite thing to do is pet your ears and ruffle your tail, especially if they're as fluffy as his chest is! He finds the sensation soothing.

If you growl at him, chances are he'll growl back at you just to mess with you.

Or he'll make a claw motion and do the little "rawr~" thing because he finds it amusing how you react when you don't know how to respond to something.

He'll also definitely tease you if your tail ever wags.

"That a tail or are ya just happy ta see me, baby boy~?"

He's a tease but... very sweet. Toward you, at least.

At first, she didn't really see the appeal of dating a puppy hybrid. She treats Vortex like a guard dog, and she initially expected you to be the same.

But of course, who could resist a cute puppy? She quickly warmed up to you, finding you absolutely adorable. Whereas Verosika is sultry and seductive, you were cute and innocent, and she loved that about you.

She'd often find herself petting your head and telling you what a good boy/girl you were, seemingly without actually consciously meaning to. She just couldn't resist, the puppy eyes were too much for her!

"Aww, S/O! Such a good boy/girl! Who's my good boy/girl? You are! Yes you are!"

Yeah, even after you start dating, that doesn't change. She still calls you that, but her affections now run even deeper.

As in, she buys you a LOT of dog toys. A lot. She doesn't know why you love them so much, but she knows she wants you to be happy, because you absolutely deserve it.

She's also greatly amused whenever you bark or growl, but shh, don't tell anyone. That isn't part of her persona!

Sometimes, when you're cuddling, she'll wrap her tail around yours and slowly wag them both, since she knows it both stimulates you and expresses affection.

She'd also probably use your barking and growling to her advantage to scare people she doesn't like off. Nine times out of ten, it works. Dogs can be pretty scary when they're not being friendly actively, and puppies are no different.

"That was amazing, S/O. You really know how to scare a little bitch off!"

You didn't really mean to scare anyone, but you were happy Verosika was happy.

She did send that person an apology note at your insistence, though, luckily.

[melrodrigo]

Tardy, part 11

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11

Tara Carpenter x Fem Reader

Summary: It’s time for you to face Ghostface head on.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Pretty gnarly violence, Tara being protective and kinda batshit crazy, betrayals left and right

A/N: lol

Shit.

When you open your eyes and see nothing but a hot blinding light, you think you might've died and gone to heaven.

"God?" You whisper, blinking slowly.

It was in fact, not god, you find out once your eyes properly adjust.

You're stuck in a tiny compartment; so small you think you might suffocate. The walls are painted a shade of obsidian black that makes you feel like you're stuck in a black hole. Only one single flickering lightbulb grants you sight.

Your arms are sore; so sore, and it only intensifies when you try and pull them up from the weird position they're in.

Huh, I can't move my arms.

You tug at the rope-like fabric of material that's holding your hands together. It doesn't budge in the slightest. Panic rises like wildfire in you.

You breathe deep. Try to gather your wits and make sense of anything that is possibly going on.

"Get it together." You remind yourself.

You blink once.

Feeling a little more clear, you realize that you're strapped tight to a chair, back pressed uncomfortably close to the ridges.

Where am I?

There's no time to find the answer to that question since the wall is moving- oh it's a door-, and Ghostface appears right in front of you, smiling.

Well, you don't really know if he's smiling. But the way he's moving, all confident and cocky, makes you think you're not too far off.

It hits you all at once. Now that you're fully conscious, you can feel everything.

One inhale and your lungs feel like they're on fire. Breathing is hard.

You groan, the pain all too overwhelming for your brain to work properly. It would be embarrassing how loud you were if you cared in the least.

You can only seem to think of one thing.

"Where is she?" You ask, with all the confidence of someone in the position of interrogating Ghostface.

Tara. God, what did they do to Tara?

“Of course, your first words are about her." Ghostface spits, still using that goddamned voice modulator.

“Where is she?” You spit, trying your very best to look intimidating.

It's not very convincing when you're heaving and gasping like a fish out of water.

"Would you believe me if I said she was already dead?" Ghostface drawls, tracing their knife along your jawline, pressing just enough for you to feel it.

You scoff.

"Right...you'd kill one of your beloved 'main characters' before the finale." You say, sure you've read him to filth.

"But, this is the ending. Don't you see?" He continues to tease, unbothered by your last comment.

You huff, but you feel your heart picking up speed slightly.

What if...he was telling the truth?

A shrill scream sounds throughout the theater, and you feel your blood run cold as you recognize exactly who it is.

"Tara." You breathe, half terrified and half relieved she's still alive.

"Tara!" You yell, as loud as your lungs are willing to let you.

Tara doesn't reply. What you do get is a smack to the head and an elbow to the jaw.

"Be quiet." Ghostface hisses, and you can almost swear he sounds sort of scared.

"Be quiet or I'm going to get my ass whooped." He mumbles, and you pull back as far as you can, eyebrows raised.

You bite back the need to tell him you definitely don't care if he gets in trouble or not, not wanting to get slapped in the face a billion more times.

"Come on." He grumbles, gripping the back of the chair and lifting it up swiftly.

The feeling of your feet dangling off the chair reminds you of one of your favorite memories.

"Mint ice cream sucks," Tara tells you definitively.

You squint your eyebrows at her and bring up a hand to your heart like she's just stabbed you.

She's sitting with her ice cream in hand, a good distance away from you. You guys peer down at all the university students walking around, now the size of ants; trying to point out people you guys recognize.

It was your own little secret spot. Tara could never really go study outside uni, since her sister was always up her ass about traveling unknown spaces. You never asked her why, pure sister protectiveness, you guessed.

A couple of weeks into knowing Tara, she'd brought you up to this mini garden haven of hers, all shy and smiley.

She's sitting now and she's looking so pretty with her big brown eyes and freckles out for display. They shine bright today, sunshine illuminating her face and making everything just pop the slightest bit more.

You get a wicked idea, and before you can stop yourself, scoot yourself closer and place your arm around her.

Tara cocks an eyebrow at you, but before she can speak a word, you start tickling her sides.

"Stop!" Tara squeals. Her face turning a bright pink comically fast.

You're careful not to tickle her too hard, or else you think she might just slide off the ledge and fall right here.

You're close now, closer than you should be. Tension swims in the air. You lean down to whisper into her ear.

"That's what you get for saying mint sucks." You huff, smirking a little as she shudders from the feeling of your breath fanning her ear.

When you pull back and look into her eyes, you're surprised to see them wide and dilated. She has a weird expression her face, like she's fighting something in herself.

You lean in slowly, stuck in a trace with the way she's looking at you.

She grips your shirt and pulls you in further, your noses brushing. And then suddenly, like she's just snapped out of her daze, she sits up abruptly.

She laughs nervously, letting go of your shirt.

"I think Sam's calling me. I'll see you tomorrow. Same time?" She's saying, but she's not even giving you a second to answer before she's sprinting away.

Despite the sort of failed kiss, you chuckle a little. You feel the blush creep up to the tips of your ears.

The day your crush on Tara Carpenter officially started.

It's a bad time to start daydreaming, but you figure if you're going to die right now, it wouldn't be so bad to think of the love of your life while you go.

The sound of Tara's voice brings you back to life.

"YN!" She gasps, from somewhere behind you. You're still getting dragged, hair stuck to your forehead, eyes blurred.

You try your best to blink everything back to focus.

She's standing on the platform slightly below you, beside Sam, looking relieved. There's a brick in her hand.

You try and say her name but all that comes out is a painful groan. Everything feels heavy. Your shirt is painted red where your stomach wound is, and you figure you must've ripped the stitches.

There's another Ghostface beside you, the two of them bracketing you on either side.

Not that you would have the energy to up and escape anyway.

"Tara..." Sam warns, eyeing her sister like she knows what she's about to do.

Tara rushes forward, ignoring Sam's protest, trying to get to you. To hold you in her arms, to press her hands against your wound, to kiss it better; to do anything.

The Ghostface to your right swings their knife as soon as she comes into the vicinity, and slices the skin above Tara's collarbone easily. She gasps from the jab. Red liquid seeps out immediately.

You feel the Ghostface to your left tense, a mixture of a gasp and a yell stuck together.

"Anika wait-!" The Ghostface is saying, the name slipping out as easy as second nature.

Everybody stills.

It's so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

The other Ghostface whirls around, shoulders tight.

Sam tugs Tara back quietly, looking between the two Ghostfaces. Your head is swimming.

"What did you say?" Ghostface- supposedly Anika, says.

"What the fuck." You manage to spit out, but it goes unheard, everyone being laser-focused on the scene unfolding right in front of them.

"I'm sorry- I'm sorry I didn't mean to say that. It's just, I thought you were going to kill Tara. I couldn't let you do that." The other Ghostface reasons, albeit unconvincingly. He stumbles over his words, in a tone that's all too familiar to you.

"Ethan?" You hesitate, tears brimming in your eyes.

The Ghostface that's hovering above you drops down to your ear level, whispering softly.

"Well, aren't you just a smart little thing?" And promptly slides off that wretched Ghostface mask, and even though you knew, you have to gasp at who you see.

Anika.

Sweet sweet Anika.

"Just take it off. It's not like they don't already know." Anika tells Ethan, an order more than anything.

You tilt your head just enough to see Ethan take off his mask, grinning nervously.

"What the fuck?" You hear Tara say, but it sounds so far away.

"But, but how-" Sam starts, pointing at Ethan, her face as pale as a ghost.

He looks good, healthy. More alive than you've ever seen him. There's a glint in his eye you've never seen before.

"I'm alive. Surprise!" He grins, flashing the four of you a pearly white smile.

I must be dreaming.

You squeeze your eyes shut. He's still standing there when you open them again. Shit.

"But I watched you die, I felt the blood. You-you died in my arms. I saw the ambulance pick you up." You splutter, voice cracking unevenly.

"You know...some fake blood and a couple of acting classes can do wonders. You guys really are not good at picking up on hints." Anika sing songs, waving her dagger in the air.

"Seriously...we even had to send you a note." She continues, scrunching her nose in disgust.

"Why are you doing this? Why are you so hell-bent on destroying us?" Sam asks, fire in her eyes. She looks scary. Messing with Sam was one thing, but messing with her sister? You have a feeling they'll be dead in minutes.

Anika sighs dramatically, putting a hand up to her chin and feigning thought.

"Gosh. Where do I even start? Let's set the scene: it's 1996. There's been two mysterious murders in the small town of Woodsboro, leaving everyone in fright." She recounts, words slipping out of her mouth with ease like she's rehearsed them a million times.

Sam rolls her eyes, fed up with this godforsaken story that seems to follow her anywhere.

"Akio Kayoko however, lives happily, because finally his two bullies Billy and Stu aren't on his ass anymore. They have more important things to worry about."

Sam cuts in before Anika goes any further.

"Are you fucking kidding me? This is all because what, your dad couldn't handle a couple wedgies? Are you a little daddy's girl?" She says, fed up.

Anika shoots her an icy glare, but continues.

"You don't even know what you're talking about." Anika tells her, voice lowering to soft and almost sorrowful.

"Poor dad, he just had to go to that party. Do you know what happens to a person when they go through something traumatic? It changes them. He came out the only bystander that survived, but not without a scarred face and a scarred soul to show for it." She murmurs. She turns suddenly, a new pep in her mannerisms.

"Your father," she points at Sam accusingly, "and your father," she points her knife at you, "fucked my dad up royally. He got diagnosed with severe depression and bipolar disorder from it. And for what?" She seethes.

"Your guys' fathers are just racist assholes. You deserve everything that's coming to you, don't you even doubt it for a second!" She sneers, with so much venom and power that you can't help but agree.

You open your mouth to say something, anything, try to explain that you aren't your dad, but Anika beats you to it.

"Did you know he left me? I still remember it like it was yesterday. I was 6." She tells you, voice getting softer. Your heart tugs for her.

She straightens up, as if just realizing where she was, and her icy facade once again builds up.

"Anywho, motive enough for you Sam?" She tilts her head up, eyes bright.

Sam stands scarily still, but you can see the concern swimming in her eyes.

Ethan's standing wide-eyed like this is all new information to him.

"It really wasn't that hard getting you two to meet. All I had to do was invite Tara to that party and just give YN a little bump so you two would talk." Anika continues, and you furrow your eyebrows. Party? You met Tara at a party?

Your eyes dart to Tara and she's looking at you a little solemnly, and suddenly it hits you like a truck. Memories that have never been unlocked before replay in your mind now. The angel from that party.

That was Tara.

"After that, everything just fell into place. You guys are one pathetic predictable group of people." Ethan pipes up.

"The friendship, the night you got stabbed, it was all planned. I mean, why do you think I took you back to the apartment? For Anika to "stitch you up?" He asks excitedly, looking at Anika for approval to speak further. She gives him an annoyed nod.

"And guess what the best part is," He giggled midway, but gains his composure again. "Every time she came to fix you up, she actually poisoned the wound. Never too much that you would notice- but enough to guarantee your death today. It's infected." He cheers, like he hasn't just told you you're going to die.

"Jesus, you never told me how bad it was," Tara says, making your eyes dart back to hers, trying to catch her gaze to inadvertently say your sorry, but she doesn't meet your eyes.

"I didn't want you to worry." You sigh.

Ethan makes a noise of disgust. He looks at you with scrunched eyebrows, a little crinkle of his nose betraying his chill facade. His gaze shifts to Tara, and you can't help but notice his voice move just a pitch higher.

"Poor Tara. Caught in this sick twisted web between your sister and your girlfriend. You didn't even do anything wrong right, baby? Don't worry...nothing's going to happen to you. I've made sure of that." He tells her, and it hits you all at once.

"Baby? What are you talking about? " Tara asks, cocking her head to the side.

"I love you, Tara. I did all of this just for you. When the both of them are dead, you and I can get together. Finally." He says, between deep breaths.

You don't know how you never saw it before. Memories of the prior weeks flash in front of your eyes.

His heart eyes for your girlfriend every time the group would have a movie night and you two would cuddle, the weird lingering around the both of you whenever you'd go out.

You just figured he really liked your company.

"You're out of your mind you sick fuck. Tara would never date you, even if you were the last person on earth." Is what Sam says, and despite the consequences of what's sure to come, your heart sings.

Last person on earth.

Ethan stutters, like he never thought of the possibility that she would reject him. You see tears forming immediately, frown apparent. He's trying to keep it together- you can tell.

He leans back slightly, dejected. His eyes cloud with something you can only describe as hatred, and for a scary moment, you think he seriously might jump at Tara.

However, he doesn't get the time to act on his thoughts, because in less than a blink of an eye Anika's moving over and stabbing him in the neck.

"Agh!" He grunts. A trickle of blood runs down the side of his mouth, then it bursts. So, so much thick crimson liquid gurgles out.

Anika stands behind him, sliding her knife out his back, wiping the blood clean.

"Gosh, what a bore he was, right? True love this true love that. I couldn't listen to that shit any longer." She gags, leaning over to stick her tongue out at Ethan's lifeless face. She stabs him again in the jaw for good measure.

She looks back at the three of you, who are clearly aghast.

"Gotta make sure he's dead right?" She smiles, and it finally gets through to you that she's lost it. Whoever you thought you knew, that person never existed.

No one answers her as she stands up.

You turn stoney-faced as you look up at her. "So what's the plan Anika? How are you gonna get away with this?"

She turns around, rolling her eyes. Before you know it, she's advancing towards you, knife raised. She jabs lightly at your wound. Teases her knife against your skin. You really wish people would stop picking that specific part to hurt you.

"Do we really need to go over this again? Kill you guys blah blah blah, find Mindy and kill her, say that you and Sam went crazy like their fathers. Really, it's not hard to understand." Anika continues, shuffling her feet as she speaks like she's bored.

Time is ticking before she snaps and just decides to kill you, you know it. Not to mention the fact that you were actively dying.

"What do you really want from us? Just name your price now, and we'll- we'll get it. Just let her go." Tara splutters, almost begging.

Anika stomps her feet with the energy of a three year olds tantrum, "I want revenge! Have I not made that clear enough?" she basically yells.

Sam moves forward slowly, like a wildlife expert moving towards a wild beast.

"Look I'm sure we can come to an agreement about something-" She's saying, but Anika rolls her eyes once again and advances lazily towards you.

Nothing happens in slo-mo like the movies, you can barely register her face before she's plunging the dagger deep into the other side of your lower stomach. You can feel it pierce it's way through your whole body.

You hear a scream but it sounds a million miles away. You gag, moving your head to the side to try and puke, but nothing comes out. You try to groan in frustration but it makes your skin sting everywhere that you stop. You just stop for a moment.

Tara's fully sobbing now, you think. You can't really tell.

All hell breaks loose. Sam breaks out into a sprint at Anika, effectively knocking her down till both of them are tumbling on the floor.

You see flashes of black and gray and blood spurting from someone.

"Stay with me." You hear someone say, and try with everything in you to blink back everything into focus. It's Tara.

Her mascara is everywhere. Black stripes of tears and makeup streak down her pretty face, and you feel the urge even now to bring your hand up and wipe the tears away.

You try and tell her to stop crying but the words die in your mouth. What feels like fire engulfs your lungs.

"Stay with me. I'll be right back." She whispers, pressing a kiss to your chapped lips.

You search your mind desperately for a way out of this mess, a solution, but everything goes blank. Your ears ring, eyes rolling to the back of your head in pain.

With everything you have in you, you squeeze Tara's hand one last time, and tell her to take the knife currently lodged in you out.

Tara's eyes darken, the most cloudy you've ever seen them.

"No, no. I couldn't do that." She says, another round of tears falling down her cheeks. She shakes her head adamantly, but you shush her.

"Please. For me." You manage to get out, then with the utmost acceptance, you let yourself go.

Tara doesn't remember much of what happened after that. She remembers sobbing, she remembers someone screaming, but she can't be too sure if it's her or someone else. She remembers the feeling of your fingers loosening their grip on her hand, and she remembers seeing red.

With no where else to channel her emotions, and with your words engraved in her mind, she turns on Anika.

She hurries over to where she's still wrestling with Sam, expression tight, and grabs the first thing she can find in this shithole of a theater.

Your father's wooden box.

She remembers faintly telling Sam to fuck off, and smashing the box over Anika's head. Then picking it up and doing the same thing again. And again, and again. She remembers taking the heel of her shoes and smashing it to Anika's nose, breaking it in one clean hit.

She remembers going back to you, your white as paper skin, and yanking the knife out of you.

And the final thing she remembers is screaming at Anika while she buries the knife in and out of the girl’s body, everywhere, again and again.

[huggyhughesy]

slow mornings | quinn hughes

a little dad!quinn blurb for your sunday evening <3

The house was quiet. Too quiet for a Saturday morning.

Usually, Saturday mornings started early with Sophie climbing into Quinn and I's bed. This morning, though, I was the only one laying under the duvet. As I racked my brain, trying to remember if there was a reason I had been abandoned in the bed, I remembered that I'd never seen Quinn last night. He was supposed to get home after midnight, flying home from a five-day road trip.

The panic began to set in when I realized that I had no messages from Quinn, his phone wasn't on his bedside table, and -- most importantly -- he wasn't lying in bed next to me. Flinging the covers off, I made my way down the hall to Sophie's room, where I discovered that she too was missing. Deciding to venture downstairs, I could hear the faint sounds of music coming from the living room.

As I entered, my heart swelled at the sight in front of me. Laying on the couch, both asleep, was Sophie and Quinn. Sophie was cuddled into her dad's side and didn't appear to be waking up anytime soon.

I quickly snapped a picture of the two of them before leaning down and placing a kiss to the top of Quinn's head. His eyes fluttered open and a lazy grin came over his features.

"Hey," he mumbled. "Can I have a real kiss?"

I smiled at his request.

"You want me to give you a kiss after you abandoned me in our bed?"

He just continued smiling at me, knowing that I'd give in eventually. And I did, leaning back down to give Quinn a 'real kiss' before walking around the couch and sitting on the unoccupied side of Quinn's body. I leaned onto his side as his arm came to wrap around my waist. I was looking at the movie currently playing on the tv; Winnie the Pooh was currently one of Soph's favorites. She especially loved Eeyore.

"Eeyore's actually such an underrated character," Quinn said, as if he could read my mind.

"You and Soph are too much alike," I replied, earning a nudge from my husband.

"Who's your favorite then?"

I didn't reply, which was an answer enough for Quinn.

"There's nothing wrong with liking Eeyore, you know. His grumpiness is funny. And realistic."

"Fair point."

We both laid in comfortable silence for a while, watching the children’s movie, when I figured I’d bring up the potentially touchy subject of Quinn’s road trip, during which they’d lost two games and won one.  

"How was the trip?"

The involuntary sigh that escaped his lips was all I really needed to know. Quinn had already confided in me about how frustrating it was for his team to be having such an awful season, especially compared to Jack's, but to also have to see so many of his teammates and people he considered to be good friends get traded away. He didn't talk about it in front of his parents or his brothers, specifically Jack, because he didn't want to make everyone listen to his pity party when he knew they really just wanted to be basking in the glory of Jack's first really good season in the NHL.

"It sucked," Quinn admitted, his arm gripping my waist a little tighter. “But it’s over now, so it’s whatever.”

I looked up to him, communicating with just my look that it, in fact, wasn’t whatever.

“Fine, fine. It just wasn’t fun overall. I didn’t play very well, and I missed you guys.”

Quinn had a pout on his face when I looked up at him. I couldn’t help myself but to lean up and kiss his jaw.

“We missed you too,” I informed him. “Soph watched every single minute of every game.”

As if she could hear us mention her name in her sleep, Sophie stirred. Wiggling around and rubbing her eyes. Upon her opening her eyes fully, she looked at Quinn, then at me, and did a double take back to Quinn, letting out a little gasp.

“Daddy!” she squealed and wrapped her arms around Quinn’s neck. Quinn chuckled but pulled her closer to his chest.

“Hey sweetheart. Have a good nap?”

The massive smile on Sophie’s face and the hands that were still clutching onto Quinn’s shirt were enough indication that she was more preoccupied with her father than to answer his question.

“Daddy, are you home now?”

The grin that graced Quinn’s features wavered slightly. While Soph was asking if Quinn was home, she was really asking if he was going to stay home.

“No baby, not yet.  I’m home this week, and then I’m going to see Uncle Trevor.”

She tried to mask her disappointment. After a moment, though, her features changed to one of curiosity and excitement.

“Oh. But can you ask him to bring me some candy? He always brings me candy when you see him,” she informed us.

I raised an eyebrow and side-eyed Quinn, who looked guilty.

“Uncle Trevor always brings you candy?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed. “Daddy brings it, but Uncle Trevor gives it to him to give to me.”

“Ah, I see.”

I decided to leave the subject of Trevor and Quinn conspiring to sneak our kid candy another time. Right now, though, I was going to spend the morning watching Disney movies.

[jaykaysthicthighs]

The Path Of A Singer | JJK

excerpt | the appearance of your old lover pops up on tv, and the horrible memories showed itself once again.

genre | heavy angst, cheating, abuse, minor fluff

rating | 18+

warnings | strong language, present & past, toxic relationship, mental & physical abuse, jk cheating, panic attack, alcohol and drug consumption, lots of crying, heartbreaking conversations, jk being vile, lots of yelling, jk manhandles the reader, mention of abusive father, mention of ptsd, reader being selfless (you might not agree with the decisions she's made, but don't hate her; she's a broken person), maybe more

wc | 4K+ (very short)

notes | it's been a hell of a long time since i wrote and posted anything....!!!

my inspiration came from watching the movie insidious: the red door lol. the reason for the mature rating is because of the strong language, the heavy conversations said, and the talks of alcohol and drugs. i want to say that i'm not romanticizing this type of relationship or the behaviors of the characters, i'm just making a story that maybe some people might have gone through. sometimes the decisions made or thought of does not make you a bad/horrible person. everyone had a reason good or bad; you just have try to be understanding. i also tried to make this as heartbreaking as possible, but for some reason i feel like it's not. hopefully it does pull some heartstrings for you guys.

You finally arrived home after an exhausting day of work. Your roommate wasn't home yet, so, luckily for you, you're able to binge eat without the concerned eyes of your friend watching you.

You walked your way to the kitchen and made yourself some sandwiches, you also grabbed some water on the way to the living room. When you made it to the couch, you plopped down heavily. You grabbed the remote and started scrolling through the channels. You came across a channel that was showing a music festival, and without thinking about who might be performing you clicked on it.

The first performer was a group called XG. As they were performing, you happily ate while vibing to their songs. At one point, you started singing as well, not caring that you still had some food in your mouth. If the neighbors were able to hear you, they would probably think someone is dying - yelling for help.

When you finished, you got up put away your dishes, and made your way to your room to change your clothes. As you were changing, you felt a bit lonely. You and your friend don't have any pets, no companion to keep any of you guys company. You exited your room with a simple sweater and shorts.

You made it back to the living room with a content expression on your face, unfortunately, it wouldn't last long. As you were about to get yourself situated on the couch, you looked at the TV screen, and the one person you never wanted to see again was singing.

You fell to your knees with a hard thud, watching the screen with horrid eyes. It's been three years since you saw him. In those three years, you tried your damned hardest to avoid anything and everything that involved him in it. The pain he caused you still resides in your little heart.

You didn't realize but you started crying; the tears rapidly falling. Your body started shaking; the little goosebumps displaying your skin. Your chest felt heavy like a huge wave crashing on you, and the water is rising up into your nose, making it hard for you to breathe. You felt like you were suffocating, and the lack of air was making your head light; dizziness taking its place.

On the outside, you were frozen, but on the inside, you were trying to claw your way out. You felt like you were scratching every surface of your body, but you weren't moving an inch. Your brain was screaming for help, but the only thing leaving your mouth was the hardness and unstableness of your breathing. Right now, you were wishing for your friend to come home right now and save you.

Three Years Ago

You were in your car driving your way to your boyfriend. Jungkook's manager called you demanding that you come and pick him up. You don't really know what happened, but from how his manager sounded, you were thinking that he got himself drunk and high again, causing thoughtless actions.

Not too long ago, Jungkook was able to get into his dream record label. After years and years of hard work, passion, and dedication he was able to pursue his dream. What you didn't realize is that with Jungkook getting to follow his dream of being a singer, he would soon lose his sense of self. In just two weeks he was starting to drink, and in another week, he started experimenting with drugs.

As time went on, so did your patience. You would try and try to stop him - to help him, but every time Jungkook would stop your advances. Pushing you away and causing you pain made Jungkook feel superior, it made him feel proud that he reached a certain height in life.

Your guy's relationship now consists of yelling and crying. Jungkook started to mentally abuse you, but even so, you would accept it. You didn't have the strength to leave him - to leave the man you love since middle school. You couldn't leave the man who would write songs about you, the man who would wake up during dawn and make you a big breakfast, the man who would call you no matter the time, the man who would always tell you how much he loves you every second of the day. You didn't have the strength to leave him.

With all your anger, you finally made it to the studio in one piece. When you entered the building, the looks on the staff's faces were concerning you. One of the staff went up to you and told you to not go inside the studio. You looked at them judgingly and pushed your way through them, but they still tried to stop you.

"What is the problem? Let me through!" you yelled. They gave you a sad look and apologized, "I'm sorry ma'am, but Jungkook is very busy, and I don't think it's a good idea for you to go inside there." Your anger was boiling, steam coming out of your ears. "Sorry for yelling at you, but I don't fucking care if he is busy. Jonny called me saying that I need to pick this asshole up, okay? If you're worried about me finding out that he is high or drunk - even both, don't. This is not new to me."

The staff in front of you looked like she was on the verge of tears. She opened her mouth to say something, but before she got the chance, a disheveled woman left the room your boyfriend was in. You watched her with wide eyes as she left the building with a smile on her face. You stomped your way to the studio door ignoring the pleas from the staff. You pushed open the door causing a loud bang, startling the man recognized as Jonny.

Jonny swiftly got up and the first thing you noticed was the bloody nose. You walked your way to him digging in your bag grabbing some tissues for his nose. Gently placing it on him, you politely demanded, "Where is he, Jonny?" The man before you faced his eyes on the floor. "Jonny, you called me here, so, don't fucking hide anything from me. Where is he?"

The man took a step back letting the blood freely fall again. He shook his head, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you. I've ruined everything." You gritted your teeth and threw the bloody tissue at his face. "Where the hell is he, Jonny?" you yelled.

A second later, Jungkook swung the bathroom door open with nothing but some sweats on. Your heart dropped from his appearance. It was evident that he had fucked the girl from earlier. You guys made eye contact, and you could tell immediately that he was high out of his mind. "Get out, Jonny," you said without looking.

When you heard the door shut, that's when you crumbled. Your eyes started blurring with the tears that were coming. Your body shaking with rage. You walked up to the fucked-up man and slapped him. "Why? Why? Why the hell would you do this to me?"

Jungkook harshly grabbed your wrists and laughed. He laughed like what you had said was something funny. You can smell the horrible alcohol leaving his mouth as he laughed. "Because it's fun, babe."

The pain rippled throughout your body. You snatched your wrists away and bellowed, "You're hurting me! You're destroying me! What does she have that I don't? I thought you loved me?" Jungkook towered over you; he grinned, "I don't love you." Your whole world died. Never had Jungkook spouted those words. It tore you limb from limb, slowly but surely. And that was all it took for you to call it done.

You were fine dealing with his hurtful ways. You were fine being the punching bag. But you were not fine being cheated on. Even with Jungkook in this fucked-up state, not once had he said that he didn't love you, and not once did he ever cheat on you. You felt lower than before, and you didn't want to feel like that. You knew that the moment he started doing drugs and drinking alcohol, the man you once knew would be gone. Still, you had hoped there might be a tiny sliver of him inside, but today proved - his words proved you wrong.

Your eyes hardened and your expression became stoic. Without trying to sound broken you seethed, "We are done! You fucking hear me? I am done with your shit - with everything!" As you walked your way to the door, Jungkook rushed in front of you and pushed you to the ground.

The wind got knocked out of you; you started bawling your eyes. For the first time, you were scared of the man before you. Jungkook locked the door behind him and dragged you by your feet. You tried kicking your feet, hoping that his release would loosen, and you could run away. But before you knew it, Jungkook locked you both into the soundproof booth.

When his grip on you was gone, you scurried to the corner of the booth shielding yourself with your bag. Jungkook walked to you and kneeled to your level. "Don't hide from me, baby." He gently grabbed your bag and tossed it to the other side of the booth. You closed your eyes; you couldn't see the monster of the man you love.

You felt Jungkook tenderly cupping your jaw. You trembled beneath his fingertips; quietly whimpering. It stayed like this for a few seconds until you felt his touch disappear. With your eyes still closed, you could hear Jungkook digging for something. You heard a rustling sound of a Ziplock bag. You knew better, you knew that he was using drugs right now.

"Open your eyes, ____," Jungkook demanded.

You didn't answer, you didn't move. This pissed off the man in front of you. He slapped you, making your body jolt, making your eyes open. You brought your hand to your cheek, tears threatening to fall. "See, it wasn't that hard?"

"W-what do you want... from me?" you stammered.

Jungkook seethed, "You can't leave me. I won't let you leave me. You owe me. All that money I spent on you, all those years I wasted on you - I want that back! And the only way you can pay me back is by being my bitch. You are fucking mine, ____!"

You finally let the tears fall again. Your whole body shook like lightning shooting throughout you. Shaking your head, you wailed, "No! No! No! Please! Don't do this to me, Dad! Stop hurting me!" For the first time today, Jungkook felt his senses come back. Your words panged his heart.

Your mother was never in your life. It was always you and your father, but your father was an abusive man. He would try to find any little thing to blame you for, just for him to lay his hands on you; from hitting, kicking, even to cutting. You had met Jungkook when you were thirteen years old, he comforted, protected, and helped you. When you finally turned eighteen, that's when you moved in with him - that's when you finally felt peace.

Jungkook cupped your face into place. He frantically said, "____, it's me. Your dad's not here. It's me, Jungkook." His touch burned you; you felt like dying. You mustered all your strength and pushed him away. You gripped your shirt and yelled, "No! You're not him! You're not Jungkook! You're a monster and I don't even recognize you!"

Monster... That simple word rang in Jungkook's mind. Monster... Such a terrifying word. If he was a monster, his reason would be because of you. Unfortunately, all the drugs and alcohol in his system weren't enough to keep him sane for one minute. Jungkook launched at you. His hands wrapped around your throat, choking you, but still letting you breathe.

You started clawing your nails on his bare arms. Digging deep that blood starts making its presence. But all that Jungkook could see right now was red. He couldn't feel the pain you were giving him; he couldn't hear the agony in your voice; he couldn't see your wrecked state. Red became his friend.

"You are the reason for my horrible being. You are the reason why I'm a monster. You bitch! If you hadn't kept pushing me to pursue this fucking career, I would've still been the same. If you hadn't been so loving and caring and supportive, we wouldn't be in this predicament. I can't believe that I fell in love with a disgusting person like you. I can't fucking believe that I let you take control of my whole being!"

Right when you were on the verge of passing out, Jungkook released his hold on you; he backed himself on the other side of the booth. You were catching your breath. Your hands shakingly touched your neck, throbbing against your frail fingers. You were painfully coughing; mentally asking God to help ease your pain. Your eyes went in and out of vision; red and black dots were the only thing in sight.

Jungkook watched you with dark eyes. He watched as you were struggling to regain your previous state. He watched as you were crying from the pain, he inflicted on you. He watched the one person who was always with him, the one person who loved and cared for him no longer be the same. He killed you, painfully and slowly.

Present

"____, look at me. It's okay. It's okay." Your friend Lia gently held your face in place. She called out your name, praying that you would settle. She watched as you were frantically breathing; your eyes looking everywhere but her; your body shaking like the room was freezing.

Your panic attacks rarely happen, but when they do, Lia feels so useless. She wished that she could help ease your pain, she wished that she had the power to prevent this. But all she could do was hold you and tell you that you're okay.

Minutes go by until you are finally back. "____?" Lia cautioned, "____, look at me. Are you okay?" As you looked at Lia, you could see the worried expression painting her beautiful face. You hated yourself for making her feel like this, but you couldn't help it. This feeling will never go away; it gets buried six feet under, but once he appears they come back.

"Lia," you whispered, "I saw him again... on TV." Lia took a deep sigh; she hated the pain he caused you before and now. She wrapped you in her arms, holding you with such care. The second you were in her arms, you broke. You cried and cried, loudly speaking your pain.

Lia felt her shirt dampen, but she didn't care. Whatever you do to her, she will take it all in, as long as you feel better in the end, Lia will gladly be your tissue, your enemy, your punching bag. Lia murmured against your hair, "I'm here. I will always be here." She held you tighter; she didn't want you to fade away from her.

You took deep breaths to calm down your nerves. You pulled away from Lia and made your way to the couch. You brought your knees up and buried your face in the space between. You hissed, "I hate what he does to me. He's not even here!" This time you whispered, "And yet, he's able to bring me down to my knees... scared."

Lia met you three years ago; months after your event. You were just a newly hired TA. When Lia first saw you, you looked like a girl who was barely keeping her life together. You told her beforehand - when you started room mating with her, that you have PTSD and that your panic attacks happen from time to time. You didn't really tell her the whole story, just that you were in a very abusive relationship and that you experienced something so terrifying. She accepted you with an open mind and open arms; from then on, Lia became your rock.

Lia got up and sat right next to you. She wanted to ask you a question, but she was scared that you would hate her or push her away for asking. But this question has been in her mind for a while now. After taking a few seconds thinking to think it through, Lia wiped her sweating palms on her pants and inquired, "____, if you don't mind me asking... why didn't you call the police on him? You should've, 'cause I don't think he should be performing after everything he's done to you."

Your eyes started getting blurry; you told yourself the exact same thing, but there was a reason. With your head still buried, you softly replied, "It's easier said than done, Lia. I wished I called the police on him - I wish I could call the police on him, but I can't. Because in simple words... I love him. I hate myself for loving him. Even after everything he has done to me, and everything he has said to me, I love him. Does that make me a horrible person?"

Lia felt herself invisibly jumping out of the couch. No way does she think you're a horrible person. You're just a person who's been through something horribly traumatic. Her heart was filled with so much pain for you. Lia positioned herself so she was facing your small figure, and expressed, "____, no way in hell are you a horrible person. Far from it! I won't be able to say that I relate or know what you're going through, because I don't. But I am able to say that I'll support you and understand your feelings and decisions."

You lifted your head but still kept your eyes on your knees; you muttered, "I met him when we were thirteen years old. He was a very shy and reserved kid - hated social interactions. I remember..." you quietly giggled without realizing when you were remembering the fond memories, "I remember when he used to make small mixtapes every anniversary with letters. He wasn't always a horrible person. He used to be kind, supportive, and loving. One of my favorite things about him was his selflessness towards me. I loved that he would always think about my needs, what I wanted, what I was thinking, and how I was feeling, but in turn, he did the opposite for himself. It was a blessing and a curse."

Lia looked at you and saw the small smile showing. This look was rare for you, and every time it made its appearance, Lia would always treasure it. "He must have been a great person for you to smile like that." You furrowed your brows; you turned to Lia with confusion. "What smile?" you questioned. Lia rolled her eyes, "Well, there's no smile anymore."

You took a deep sigh and apologized, "I'm sorry for talking about him. It's just - just talking about him in this light makes me happy and warm... even if it only lasts for a few seconds." Lia noticed that you started tearing up. Your face was slightly contorted with pain; you were trying not to cry, holding it in but it didn't work. Your tears were freely falling, and Lia comforted you once again. You quietly whimpered, "During that time I called him a monster, but really, I don't want to remember him as the monster in my life because at one point he used to be my prince who saved me from one. I try to think and talk about him in this beautiful light that he used to be under - I want to remember him as that, but the pain he brought upon me is too hard to ignore." You started wailing at this point, "It continues to haunt me, and I hate it! I want to hate him, but I can't! I can't!"

Lia felt herself crying for your pain. She felt herself slowly dying by your words. It truly kills her that her most precious and beautiful friend is going through so much pain. As you both cried into each other's arms, you could hear Lia continuously apologize through her cries. You were so grateful to have such an amazing person as her.

Once you were calmed down, you pulled away from the still tearful woman and wiped her tears away. "Don't cry anymore, Lia." you sniffled, "What happened to me - what's still happening to me would never be fully cured, but I know that whatever happens next, you'll be by my side, and slowly but surely, I won't be able to be to feel the pain anymore. Okay?" Lia nodded her head with a soft smile. You're right, as long as she's with you and as long as you are with her everything will be fine. You guys are each other's glue - each other's person.

There is no doubt in your mind that this pain will pass by. You don't know how long that will take, but until the day comes, having Lia with you eases your heart from pain as much as possible.

"You mailed her my letter?"

"Yes, Jungkook."

The tired man finished his show with a bang, and even though people enjoyed his performance, Jungkook couldn't seem to feel all that happy. For the past year since he finished his rehab, nothing has felt more depressing.

The morning of that night when he woke up, Jonny had told him that you had left, and he was to go to rehab immediately. He hated you for leaving, he hated that you left him in such a messy state. Jungkook blamed everything on you. Jonny had told the ill man that if it wasn't for you, everything that he had worked so hard on would go down the drain. At first, Jungkook didn't understand why you left or what Jonny was saying, but as time went on, he knew that everything was his fault. His addictions and his abusive behavior were all his fault. The reason for your disappearance was his fault. Your pain - everything was all him.

Jungkook knows that there will be no way for him to fix the things he has done and the things he had said, but even so, he would try his damn hardest to fix it. When he finished rehab, Jungkook made it a mission to send you a letter every week, telling you about his days throughout the week, how much he loves and cares for you, telling you how much he is so regretful. Deep down he knows that he is being selfish, he knows that he should let you go - let you move on, but the helpless man is stuck in the past. The past is what keeps him alive. The past is his only source of reason. Jungkook doesn't want to let go of that one thing he has left of you.

Jonny felt so much pity for the man, he didn't have the heart to tell him that he didn't know your address. He would accept the letters, promising that he would mail them, but when night rolls around your letters would be burned. Jonny wanted to quit being Jungkook's manager, but you begged and begged for him to stay with the broken singer. You wanted Jungkook to at least have one person for him to lean on when things get hard. Jonny admires your strength - how strong of a woman you are, so, he agreed.

"You should just stop already, Jungkook. She's never gonna mail you back. I know your reason, but you lost her, and you can never fix that." Jonny was getting tired; tired of seeing the broken singer trying with no prevail.

Jungkook walked up to his manager and lowly whispered, "You think I don't know that, Jonny? Ever since I learned that everything is my fault... I knew that she would never come back to me. Yet I still hope - even if that hope is microscopic or nonexistent, I hope that I will be able to see or be with her again."

The fatigued man took a few steps back and lowered his heavy head down. His eyes searched the floor trying to keep his tears at bay, but it didn't work. The salty tears of this poor singer escaped and landed harshly on the wooden floor. Sniffling, the fatigued man uttered, "You think I don't know that you burn my letters?" Jungkook lifted his head up and saw the ashamed manager looking back at him.

He continued, "You're not as discreet as you think you are, Jonny. I went to your hotel room to ask for a favor... and I saw you burn my eighth letter with sadness swimming in your eyes. I connected the dots from there, and I realized that you never sent any of my letters because you don't know her address, huh? You're left in the dark like I am, huh? You know nothing about her whereabouts, about how she's doing, about anything, huh, Jonny!" The manager kept quiet; didn't know what to say.

Jungkook slumped down on the nearest chair with a hard thump. He leaned his head back with closed eyes and softly whimpered, "I now understand the meaning ‘You reap what you sow’… I'm never gonna stop. I know I can never fix this, but I promise you Jonny, I will never stop. Ten years - fifty years from now, I will keep writing her letters... knowing that deep down all of this is for nothing. I don't care if I'm shaming myself by doing this - I don't care about anything but her. She's not mine anymore but I'm forever hers. Let me live like this. Let me live with the consequences. Let me drown myself in this regret."

The destroyed man opened his eyes and gently moved his head to the side to see the lone figure of his manager feet away. With a deep sigh, Jungkook claimed, "You're just my manager, right? So, don't involve yourself in my pitiful life. Just do the job you were hired to do, along with getting my letters. Don't care what you do to them - burn them, keep them hidden, rip them up... doesn't matter, just don't let me know about it; let me falsely believe that you mailed them to her. Alright? Now please get the car... I wanna go home."

[mikodrawnnarratives]

I just remembered a project I worked on for a while in like 2021 (maybe 2020) and it had a LOT of akumatized marinette's

That was the idea behind the whole thing but man I did one by one and found some of the most obscure akumatized marinette au's

Sooooo I'm dragging these drawings up from the ashes and maybe it'll be a nice surprise for some of y'all to see

yall got ✨fanart✨

and possibly reminded of miraculous ladybug HA

usually these were done on different canvas's (that were like 250x250) and then just... copied onto a larger canvas??? Mistakes were made and I was insane

A handful of these akumanette's were actually made by me cause apparently... roughly 18 other marinette's wasn't enough

Click for quality and this is a long post

First of all, shoutouts to my own akuma abominations creations.

First image, the ladybug with the red long hair? yeah the idea was the akuma bug seen in canon in like, s2 (also shown next to her) but updated for the new look in s4. Vry original we'll give it a 6/10

I don't remember too much for the middle one that is slightly dimmer. Though I do remember that was the kind of IDEA behind her. She's also holding a knife cause of course. Why have magical powers to kill people when you can harness the power of K N I F E 7/10

I remember a little more about the jester marinette in the back. She had a whole thing with medieval research, jester research, and she also wanted to stab Lila cause everyone wanted to stab lila at the time. 9/10 cause I had a fun time with her

Then the robinhood poster mari was a robin hood akuma mari. 3/10 not original

NEXT

Slightly canon to downright canon

Ladyblanc was a popular akumanette idea so slightly canon, I didn't base it off of anyone's au

Ladybug and Marinette are there because what's the fun of a crossover if the og doesn't get to panic along with the rest of them????

Last image, not talking about persecuter, we'll get to her in a bit. I just thought it would be funny at the time if I included Chloe and Antibug cause... haha

Antibug is kinda an akumatized lb rip off soooo

OTHER'S AU'S

what you've been waiting for

Thank god I kept track of credit (pats past me on the back)

First of all, at the very front we got @zoe-oneesama 's devil au that made an updated appearance in her scarlet lady au, love to see it

You'll also notice little devil bug on lb's knee in the sketch

Alopeka is to the left of Devil au, by @piearsonist

hi betcha you never would have guessed you got FANARTED HA

This is a post that explains that akumatized marinette, and you'll find more if you go to her page

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND

Princess justice at the right by @kibouwmlb (also, hello hi, surprise) and honestly it is SUCH a pretty design OMYWORD I love the watercolors

Twiddling her thumbs, minding her business. Remember the release of Descendants 3? Yeah, Queen of Mean baby. And MORE by @shiinaeu hi you are a legend to me

This was so fun to draw at the time and I was experimenting in ways I hadn't before. Peak youtube miraculous ladybug fixation meeting art interest. First one of the characters I did fun fact

@edendaphne betcha you didn't expect fanart of that one scorpion akumanette well THINK AGAIN (also, crazy that this was around when I did your dtiys I just realized, huh)

ANd then slightly more obscure, though the post does have 173 ish notes so, is @skullqueensart 's akumanette right here

Why does akumanette have sunken cheeks here? I have no clue honestly. Take it up with me from 3 years ago and maybe you'll get answers who knows. She's also just... chilling. Looking at nothing. Into the abyss.

Not now chloe's, we are discussing persecutor now.

Love the story idea honestly and the akuma design is so god tier AKUMA that oof @yiprincessart I love it

Oh uh, and chloe will be fine

:)

CAN👏I👏 TALK👏 ABOUT👏 HER

She is the moment, she is beauty, she is grace

@artist-from-outersp-ace I love her. She looks so SO pretty!! At the time I loved your artstyle and I still do!! Too bad at the time I didn't know that Tumblr works by reblogging. I will be amending that.

I also remember being SO frustrated when drawing her that I didn't get a timelapse saved in time to show the drawing process :(

But I did love figuring out folds in the dress and the coloring process! Figuring out how to replicate elements in your art!

srs guys. Look at the RUFFLES

Alright, we are all agreeing to be accomplices and bystanders to Akuma jester marinette's NOT MURDER murder of Lila in the background? Okay good.

@lunian I have fanart for you~

And when I tell you I struggled with her design, I STRUGGLED. I ended up satisfied in the end but the curls bro, we lost the curls

But I do love her concepts and powers and I did back then too

And next to her, Okay, I never fully finished, mostly because I couldn't figure out how to get the hand to work with the tray balance thingie

@ladybub made this Lady Justice design and I WILL BE THERE when the comic updates. Or... if they aren't able to continue the comic that's also fine too <3 Life happens

Still love this au and the unique way for Marinette to get akumatized! Me and my sister bonded over our love over it!

I think this might be the first akumanette that isn't on tumblr to my knowledge. They are on Instagram tho @stivenwithani

Anyway I really liked the concept and the design just, reeked, of akuma that I included her

Okay more that I didn't really finish

We got another Princess/Lady Justice akuma idea at the left. Which I never kept track of the credit DANG IT I WAS DOING SO WELL

I'll update if I find the credit but man the OG did really well with the art.

And I have this akumanette comforting Lacrima from... a very graphic and whump fanfic Longest Night, read the tags

Anyway, Lacrima needs all the love she can get (also, funny enough, is the oldest out of this "gathering" of akumanette's)

It's not finished but hey @p-artsypants I gave angst ridden Lady Lacrima friends and fanart so.... yay...

AND THEN THE LAST ONE

was victim to so much reposting I could never find credit for it- UNTIL NOW

but the artist unfortunately deactivated their blog so that explains why I couldn't find their username all that time ago

It was a cool idea and I always love when creators take inspiration from how similar Marinette's name is to another word for a kind of puppet "Marionette"

But before I forget, I'll end this post on one of my akumanette's that I tried to squeeze in but never got to. But I did make more art for and I remember the story!

I remember having a background planned but I never really got around to it. Basically the story was that marinette got akumatized but managed to take off her earrings in time. I think the reason for her akumatization was connected to figuring out the secrets that Emilie had been hiding with the peacock miraculous (BEFORE we knew that adrien was a sentimonster).

Tikki had to bring the earrings to Chat Noir and he had to find someone that looked ENOUGH like Ladybug that Hawkmoth wouldn't notice as much that Ladybug wasn't actually there. Enter Mireille cause at the time a few people were pointing out how similar she looked to the dupain chengs.

Akumanette's powers had something to do with casting depression? I think? In the form of dragons? Oh, Also she travels by walking on the dragons so thats cool

I don't remember everything but I did have a lot planned for her.

10/10 just because I had a fun time with her

[mlmarint]

hello to the bridgerton fandom: here is my thoughts about what happened.

first, i am a bridgerton fan since 2015/16 when i read the books, i was active on facebook and twitter about it back then, so i am not even a little surprised how much hate we saw in the last hours.

i remember VERY clearly how much racism there was involving casting people of color back when the cast was announced. i stopped being active on the fandom, i left the facebook groups, i stopped following pages, all because i hated seeing so much hate and racism. i remember how much hate regé had to endure “because simon wasn’t black”. honestly, i remember being confused about how they would handle casting poc in a history drama like bridgerton, but i LOVED the ideia of embracing history inaccuracy like they did it with the tv show. we need more of that on media.

but back on regeé, he had to suffer with “not looking like simon” and then being absurdly sexualized int he show. AND before anyone says “oh it’s an explicit show everyone was sexualized”:

1 - rewatch simon’s scene and compare them with others characters

2 - read the comments and the way people (specifically white woman) said about him

3 - also, read an article about the sexualization of the black body by white people

so, no i don’t believe that regé left the show because “he wanted to try other things”. this fandom it’s so so disgusting and has been for a long time.

when i met john, i saw a lot of people saying he was ugly. he’s a handsome man.

people loved the idea of lesbian!eloise, but it had to be with a white woman. the moment michaela appeared on the scene most of you didn’t hate her because she wasn’t michael, most of you hated because she was a BLACK WOMAN and that made frannie bisexual. probably if michaela was white the amount of hate would be less then we have right now.

listen, i am a fan of the book and frannie’s it’s one of my favorites loosing only for eloise’s and daphne’s. i was SAD that i wouldn’t had michael on the screen, but i also like the idea of michaela. i know sometimes they have to change things on adaptations, and when they change it to people of color or make someone queer?? i love it even more. “oh but don’t change a character for it, create another one, i want this one”. he have millions of straight histories out there, let’s tell queer stories in shows with audiences like bridgerton. let’s make a history drama not be about two queer people that suffered and died without being able to show their love. let’s make this because it’s necessary and beautiful.

and its okay to be sad about “losing” michael, but ask yourself: why am i truly sad about it? at what point this sadness it’s becoming hate?

now, about the fact that “this changes frannie storie and i don’t like it”. it only changes a little bit and honestly they have a possibility of changing for even better.

i personally didn’t like francesca’s reaction when she met michaela. one very important thing about her history and biggest one it’s that she wasn’t attracted or in love with michael when she was with john, she learned it was okay to want and love michael after johns death and THAT WAS BEAUTIFUL. i really hope they don’t go towards a infidelity plot (cheating it’s not just kissing or sex, it can be a lot of things) john was her first love, she loved two people, but she loved and was happy with john. now, if that was just a bi panic moment? don’t care about this, fine, it’s okay and understandable. i just don’t want her having sex dreams about michaela while with john. please don’t do this.

that being said.

the whole “infertility plot” can be EVEN more powerful on her season. why? she would loose john’s baby. she wants to be a mother. if she stays with michaela? she won’t have a baby. later she can realize that she can adopt and there’s more than one way of being a mother, but that would be something to work towards it. she would have to abandon her dream (again, later realize she can still have it) in name of being in love and happy again. THAT IS SO POWERFUL.

the queen probably will give some permission to michaela be the earl, michaela could fight for the titles go to woman’s too. again, it’s not a historical accurate show.

in queen charlotte’s story the society had to deal with poc be included in society, in frannie story they’d have to heal with queer people be included on it.

frannie story can be so more powerful and beautiful and important.

yes bridgerton it’s a not perfect show, it’s not a 100% good adaptation, but it can be a powerful show. having poc and queer representation on it would be so more important than having your little story book become real on tv.

i don’t think that they’ll change eloise’s story specifically because we already met her *male* love interest, maybe she can have a fling with a woman next season, but honestly she needs to grow up before her season.

i don’t honestly know about benedict’s season. i don’t think they’ll genderbent sophie, but if they did it i would like it too. i honestly think they only made him bisexual (and frannie too) because they saw it the fans liked the idea.

BUT i think they can change hyacinth’s and gregory’s histories too. AND i would love to see it two. imagine hyacinth doing crime with a woman, IMAGINE gregory STEALING the GROOM from the altar (said groom having to be force to marry a woman despite being gay). i would love to see it.

honestly, i stoped hoping for book accuracy since anthony’s season and as much i didnt love it at the beginning, i learned to love it with time as a different and separate thing from the books.

you can be sad. just don’t spread hate. don’t be a racist. don’t be biphobic and/or queerphobic.

it’s so beautiful to have something like this happening in pride month don’t ruin another thing.

and if you want to “stop the show, it’s ruined for me” go ahead and do it. honestly? it won’t change a thing, people will still watch and it will still happen. queer people will continue to fight and love, and queer histories will continue to be told.

[dantomasik]

What Makes the BTAS Joker Different (Better?) Than Other Versions

Definitely not the first one to take a crack at this, but had a little revelation this morning that cracked what makes the Joker we know from Batman: The Animated Series (also Justice League, Justice League: Unlimited, and Batman Beyond) different from other versions of the Joker. Furthermore, I think this might be what makes him so many people's favorite version of the Joker, because I don't know any other versions that do this with him.

The Joker can't take a joke.

We all saw in Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker that Terry tore the clown apart when he started laughing at him, but it goes further than that. In the original animated series, we had episodes where the Joker, on the receiving end of a joke, not only can't play along, but often gets unequivocably furious. One episode featured a nervous, anxiety-ridden guy named Charlie who accidentally rear-ends the Joker, and ends up being coerced into helping with his next crime. The episode ends with Charlie threatening to blow both himself AND the Joker up, letting his legacy be death to a nobody. Joker fully panics and runs to Batman for help, only for Charlie to reveal it was a prank. Batman laughs, the Joker gets grumbly like someone's pissy grandpa at a progressive comedy show. In a crossover episode with Static Shock, after being defeated by the duo, the Joker plays possum and pulls out his Ol' Joy Buzzer gag, thinking he's gotten the Dark Knight for one last prank. Then comes the priceless moment when he realizes he's holding Static's electrified hand, who responds, "That was fun. Let me try!" That is one of the few times we've seen the Joker in a cold sweat as he gets a taste of his own medicine. That expression fully conveys a person discovering their joke isn't as funny as they thought.

However, probably the biggest red flag for this behavior comes to us in the form of Harley Quinn. Harley is devoted to the Joker, always happy to play along with his pranks & schemes, but when she tries going off-script, he never laughs. When Harley tries doing schemes of her own, or when she helps fix one of the Joker's schemes, that is when we see the ugly side of him. That is when we see the Joker not as some gifted comedic performer, but as a controlling & extremely insecure @$$hole who not only has to get the last laugh, but the only laughs. The Joker sees Harley not as his co-star, she is his supporting act. Like an egotistical diva, Joker always has to be the center of attention, his jokes have to be the ones that land, and he loses his sh*t when other people step in his spotlight.

The fact that this aspect of the character only seems to appear in the animated series might have something to do with the fact the show was aimed for kids. In most of the comics and live action films (and even a large portion of grown-up animated films), the Joker always has to be more serious, more sociopathic, more disturbing and deranged. He has to feel like a real threat, a real murdering killer, not just a prankster with a twisted sense of humor. The stakes always have to feel important, and thus resolving them with a laugh feels inappropriate. Furthermore, Batman usually also has to be considerably more serious, much less likely to crack jokes, and almost certainly never settling for defeating the Joker by playing his own game. The Joker always laughs because it always leaves an opening for a surprising return or one last prank later on down the line. He's always gotta be a madman in control. Even when he dies, he usually dies laughing, or at the very least smiling, because that's how he wins. He takes all of the consequences for his mayhem with a toothy grin like he's laughing at a joke only he gets.

That's why his death in Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker felt so final (even as we'd already seen him back in action). Regardless of version, the Joker didn't die with a smile or a laugh. He was caught off-guard, and in keeping with his established character, once things went off-script he couldn't improvise a funny line to save his life. His last words were simply: "That's not funny. That's not…." It's also why Terry's climactic takedown of him is so iconic. He finally realizes what no one else never took advantage of; the Joker can dish it out, but he can't take it. There's a meme that went around the web about how the Joker could never beat Spiderman because he'd do exactly what Terry did to him. Still, it took me this long to realize that the heart of that confrontation was never about Terry belittling the Joker for not understanding that Bruce just doesn't have a sense of humor. Terry figured out that, like many egomaniacs, the Joker was hiding a ridiculous amount of insecurity behind smiles, laughs, and stupid pranks. When you're the only comedy villain act in town, it gives this sense of standing atop the mountain, even if it's only in your head. The moment someone calls you out for standing on top of a cardboard mountain, you're nothing. The Joker may call himself the "Clown Prince of Crime", but he would never acknowledge a "Clown King of Crime", or even a "Clown Squire of Crime". As much as the Joker tells everyone they should laugh more, what he really means is they should laugh when he wants them to, and only then.

Adding that aspect to the character makes him stand out among all the various versions & iterations that have been made. Others have tried upping the gore factor, shocking us with more disturbing acts of violence, or cranking up the trauma factor of his deeds to 11. But none of those really make us feel like we know the Joker better. If anything, they just make him more alien. He stops being a character and just becomes a plot device for inflicting maximum psychological damage. Showing us hints at the insecurity inside make him so much more interesting, because we finally get to see what it looks like when someone gets under his skin.

And truthfully, what could be a better twist for a comedy villain than being unable to laugh at themselves?

[chloecherrysip]

As much as I mourn all the lines that appeared in mario movie trailers but for some reason, didn't make it to the finished product (RIP "I'm not afraid! I'd do anything for my brother!" YOU LIVE ON IN MY HEART ALWAYS AND FOREVER), I've been thinking about "I hope you told your brother how much you love him, because you're probably never gonna see him again" and the rest of that whole dialogue exchange in particular from this specific trailer and how much I wish we'd gotten that moment because I think it would have helped spotlight a vital aspect of Mario's character that the movie already does a REALLY good job with getting across in the first place: the way he communicates how he feels through action and acts of service instead of words!

(more under the cut because this got too long, haha)

Mario is usually a very quiet protagonist so this tracks with the games too, obviously, but even movie!Mario seems like someone who isn't overly verbose or who's especially eager to enter into heavy, feelings-based conversations (at least not without a struggle). Talking about his feelings might not come easy to him, and he maybe even forgets to say things outloud that to him, seem obvious. (Meanwhile, I think Luigi is always up for gushing about his favorite people (see the interrogation scene lol) and probably ends every phone call/text message exchange ever with "love you!" to Mario and his parents, to the point that he might accidentally say it to acquaintances and customers too on occasion, LOL).

So thinking about this exchange with Toad and how, even if the movie didn't acknowledge it past that point, this idea would be hanging over Mario throughout his journey hits harder because you can imagine him thinking: hey, when WAS the last time he told Luigi outright that he loved him that wasn't a distracted "yeah, me too" response to Luigi saying it first? Maybe it's been a long time. Too long. So long it's genuinely upsetting for him to realize! What if his brother doesn't actually know how much Mario loves him, because he does, he does so much, and he's been an idiot for going so long without saying the actual words and now he can't, he CAN'T and he would give anything in the world to go back and do things differently!

And of course, all this panic is totally unwarranted and even silly because I think Luigi knows like his own name how much Mario loves him. Because the audience watching this movie knows how much Mario loves his brother by that point! Mario never says the actual words - in fact, he never says anything particularly positive about Luigi, other than "you were great!" regarding the commercial in the very beginning - and yet it couldn't be any clearer!!! I think it's pretty impossible to come out of this movie (if you were paying attention in the least) not seeing that love plain as day in everything Mario does, down to the littlest things, because he is a man of action and that's how he expresses himself best!

You see it in how he shifts from mildly embarrassed to immediately Intense and Ready To Throw Down on a dime when Spike insults Luigi, you see it in how he pauses to open doors and create paths for Luigi to safely follow him through the construction site as he's parkouring, you see it when the dog becomes aggressive and Mario is just entirely focused on keeping Luigi behind him, pushing him out of harm's way, getting the dog's attention so it will attack him instead, etc. You see it in the warp pipe when his entire demeanor changes the second he realizes Luigi is in trouble, how he desperately paddles to reach him and grab his hand and comfort him about the situation. You see it in how his brother is front of mind for him at every point in his adventure and that's why he fights so hard to talk to Peach, why he agrees to the fight with DK, why he keeps trying even when things seem hopeless and no one believes he can do it. You see it written all over Mario's face during the reunion, every single little way he touches Luigi and brings him closer and checks in on him with crystal-clear relief and joy and gentleness!!! The "show, don't tell" aspect is just OFF THE CHARTS IN THE BEST WAY POSSIBLE because that's how Mario is. He's not so good at words and remembering to say them. When he loves someone, he wears that feeling, he lives that feeling in so much of what he chooses to do and how he interacts with the world, and while it's always good to say these things outloud now and then just to be clear everyone's on the same page (and I'm sure he does after the movie, haha), it doesn't make it any less meaningful. :)

[bluedalahorse]

@margotdanslebois very sweetly tagged me in a “share a bit of your WIP” thing. Thank you for the tag! It was so nice that you thought of me!

As for who I’m tagging back: I will tag back @sflow-er if they’re up for it!

I’m going to break the rules because my life is a bit of an unmitigated disaster right now. This isn’t so much Work On Progress as it is Work On Hold until I can get unblocked enough (and have put out enough life fires) to finish Heart and Homeland and my Nils-August one shot. Which I really do want to work on.

For the last few days I have been longing to lose myself in reading a fic that doesn’t exist yet—something multichapter about Sara and August getting back together ten years or so in the future, with a lot of character study powering it and some grown up scenes. Also some great side plots with the other characters! And—importantly—it’s written by someone else, because I know I can write my own stuff but due to my aforementioned disaster life, I kinda just want it to… magically appear on AO3 one day for me to read. We all have those days.

So anyway, sargust is on the brain and sargust is what the people will get, and it will be more than a line, but I’ll cut it so you don’t have to see it if you don’t want to.

The scenario: ten years in the future, more or less. Our favorite five have all gotten various levels of therapy and gotten diagnosed with things and worked on various family relationships and such. They all are at the royal summer residence at Solliden this weekend for… reasons. In a month or so the Swedish people are going to vote on whether they want to abolish the monarchy or not. August is struggling with more grief but you won’t see that in this excerpt. Sara works for an autism charity that’s trying to clean up their image by… actually hiring autistic people. It’s annoying for her but she hasn’t figured out how much it’s messing with her yet. Also she’s just moved back from the west coast. Content note: there are some very subtle references to self harm.

“Wille’s here, right? And your brother and Felice?”

“They went to the beach.”

“You didn’t go with them?”

Sara shakes her head. “I didn’t feel like wearing a bathing suit.”

There’s a flicker of—something—on August’s face, and it isn’t the same as the questioning eyebrow twitches her colleagues make when she has to bring up Hillerska. Sara tries not to read the flicker as concern. She smooths down the skirts of her knee-length sundress. The friction of the cotton against her skin only stings a little bit.

“It’s only that bathing suits get wet, and they cling, and it feels awful when you’re sitting on the beach,” Sara says. Realizing she could have led with a more practical reason, she pulls her open laptop off the coffee table and sets it on her lap. “I’m also working remotely today.”

“So am I,” said August. “I can find another room—“

“That isn’t necessary,” said Sara. “I could—””

“I’ll work outside.” August gestures toward the double doors that open out onto the balcony. “So I won’t disturb you when I need to move around.”

“And I’ll stay here, so I won’t bother you when I do the same.”

Sara feels the corners of her mouth twitch into a smile. Clearly, her mouth is responding to the absurdity of the moment. To the comedic—romantic comedy? surely not—fumbling of two twenty-somethings with ADHD masquerading as proper adults.

“Good. Good. Great.” Single syllables, the last two in English. August’s own smile goes through flashes of brightness and panic before he settles on the sheepishness of a boy who’s been reminded of his manners. He tucks his hands behind his back. “Welcome to Solliden, by the way. You can let me or the staff know if you need anything.”

He nods and exits out through the double doors, and just like that, Sara becomes a royal guest. Perhaps one of the last royal guests ever, if last week’s polling data means anything. She hopes no one will interview her for a documentary about it in the future.

There’s a farcical moment two minutes afterward where August sticks his head back in and says he’s forgotten his sunscreen, and Sara hands him the bottle before he goes out again. It’s a brand she’s never seen before—something ridiculously expensive and high SPF. Fragrance free, too. Sara can’t help watching through the windows as August rubs the sunscreen onto the back of his neck and onto his exposed forearms. Can’t help wondering if she’d have rubbed it in for him, admonishing him like you know you burn so easily, if they’d had their summer weekends in Bjärstad during his military service like he’d wanted.

Still, Sara hadn’t wanted it, then, and that thought should be enough to push herself back into fifteen minute stretches of newsletter edits and donor emails. Sara reminds herself of her bosses’ talking points: that PuzzleChildrens’ oldest donors appreciate the paper copies of the newsletter they receive each month, that the personal stories of lost children remind them where their money is going, that Sara is doing so well at communicating with people and that she shouldn’t worry too much about creating a perfect product, only one that reaches people’s hearts. She opens up a colleague’s story about a pitiable single mother in Luleå called Maja, whose eleven-year-old daughter Saga has been “stolen” by a serious disease. The colleague is older and touchy, so Sara phrases all her line edits delicately. What she really wants to type is: Don’t call meltdowns “tantrums.” Of course Saga has empathy, she loves her dog and she probably feels that very deeply. And for fuck’s sake arm flapping isn’t a “babyish gesture.”

But no. She can’t respond like that. Not with the amount of money these newsletters raise, not when her older colleagues don’t know things, and she was the one hired to educate them.

Sara thinks that maybe, the cotton of her sundress would be better if it were rougher. If she could run the nail of her index finger across her hip and it would hurt just enough to remind her how to communicate with people at work so they don’t think she’s a freak.

Eventually Sara’s phone buzzes with an incoming text, pulling her out of her thoughts. Do you want something to drink?

It’s from August. Sara looks up, and he’s still outdoors on the balcony. He glances in Sara’s direction and offers her a stiff—but not unfriendly—wave. The glass between them is impossibly clean, probably scrubbed this morning by the staff at Solliden.

Sara texts back. I don’t want to trouble you too much. Are you having something?

Seltzer. There’s a local brand that just launched, they do one with an elderflower and pear infusion.

August makes a face at his phone (Sara’s still watching him, it’s that twisting expression his mouth sometimes makes when he’s embarrassed himself, like he’s gotten an unexpected taste of sour candy) and types a follow up.

It’s less pretentious than it sounds. You can have what you want though. We’re well-stocked here.

Seltzer sounds good, Sara responds. I’ll have that, thanks.

As August comes back indoors and presumably goes off somewhere to fetch staff who will then fetch the seltzer. Sara doesn’t comment on how inefficient it all seems—what kind of sister would she be, she thinks, if she didn’t leave things open for Simon to snark about later?

Thinking of Simon reminds Sara that he and Felice and Wille still haven’t returned, so she checks her other text messages after clocking out of work for the day. There’s a text from Felice saying they’ll be another two hours or so, that they’ve driven off to a farm with the best strawberries and rhubarb on Öland so that Felice can use them for some sort of tart in a late-night anarchic baking spree.

[themushroomgoesyeet]

It's time ladies and gentlemen

Arcana characters as Disney's Hercules

I promise not all of these are gonna be Disney themed lol I'm just a Muriel simp (if you couldn't tell) and when I originally came up with the Disney princess idea Muriel as Hercules started rotting a hole through my brain so here we are! Also, we're gonna get some side character/familiar action here as well, yay!

Asra, Nadia, Julian, & Portia - the muses

Are there other characters that these four could fit? Probably

Am I going to fit them there? No

Someone needs to be the muses, and I choose these 4

From left to right (since none of the muses are named) Portia, Julian, Nadia, & the last two get subsumed into Asra

Idk I think they'd have fun jamming out & watching Muriel do his thing

Lucio - Hades

Oh god I can hear the Lucio simps screeching at me in the comments already

But consider: am I wrong tho

Let's face it bro is the villain in every route but his own and the cynical, "better than thou" personality that they both share just fits so well

Plus this version of Hades is a Satan analog who makes binding deals with others for his own benefit, and doesn't that sound like a certain devil we all know?

Not to mention both of them are trying to escape the realms they've been assigned & make themselves god king of everything

Two words: ✨anger issues✨

Morga - Phil

And now we get to the fun characters outside the M6

I will admit, Phil is a lot nicer than Morga, but jaded older mentor figure trying to make up for failed prodigies fits

Plus, Morga was Muriel's mentor in his route

I feel like both also fit into the role of proud parent figure by the end of their respective stories

And both are disapproving of their pupil's romances lol

Inanna - Pegasus

Admittedly Inanna is a bit more no-nonsense than Pegasus is, but she can still be goofy and fun when she wants to

Incredibly supportive of their human companions, important assets in battle, their appearance started the main character on a path for a better and more fulfilling life

Not much else to say here it just works

Vlastomil and Volta - Pain & Panic

Honestly idk if I can fit Vulgora and Valdemar into the Hercules narrative, but at least I could get these two in here

Vlastomil is Pain and Volta is Panic; I realize both could probably fit into Panic's role as they are the more timid and mild mannered courtiers, but I've chosen things this way because Volta is a little bit more flighty and afraid to commit crimes like Panic, where as Vlastomil is a bit more bold (when he's allowed to be) and better fits Pain

There's also the whole shape shifting deal they can all do

Khamgalai - Zeus

This one.....is a bit weird ngl, I'm still not quite sure about it

Honestly this is the ONLY time I will conflate someone so near & dear to my heart with Zeus

Mostly this all fits into the "detached/secret family member" archetype

And....I mean Zeus in this narrative at least is actually very kind & caring, as well as a proud dad which is similar enough to Khamgalai to work ok

Plus they both act as a guide for the main character when they're trying to find/drifting away from the plot a little bit

Merf (my MC) - Meg

Ok

I know what you're thinking

And I'm going to state once again that I am a huge Muriel simp

My MC is also a self insert, and for as long as I can remember I've always identified the most with Meg, more than any of the other Disney women

Anyone who has read my fic, seen the stuff I've posted about my character either on this blog or others, or even just talked to me on the arcana discord started by @iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia can probably see that our personalities are very similar

Meg is very special to me as a character and I'm literally writing a post about mashing together my beloved and one of my favorite Disney movies, I'm not apologizing for conflating her with myself

[degendame]

What Went Wrong?

Chapter Two

Chapter 1 Here Rating: Explicit (for later content) Category: F/M Relationships: Female Farmer/March Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Major Character Injury, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance Word Count: 5639

~~ Mistria's newest resident, Sylvan, has comfortably settled into her life in the small town. Having had a hand in every project to restore and improve Mistria, she's gained the townsfolk's respect, including that of the distrustful and cold blacksmith. Their friendship has developed over time, but March's insecurities and jealous tendencies bubble up, leading to hurt feelings as Sylvan sets off into the mines. Later that same day, March discovers her collapsed in the rain just outside town, seriously injured, leading him to feel immense guilt and wonder what went wrong? ~~

The feeling surrounding Sylvan was quite unlike anything she felt before, an utter lack of the sensation of temperature or atmosphere, it was as if her whole body were numb, but she could feel her own movement. She looked around for a moment, finding herself in a void that seemed to lack light but didn’t diminish her sense of sight or direction. 

Her eyes fell on a figure with long, straight hair, sitting cross-legged a little ways away from her, he appeared to be meditating. 

“Hello?” she called out to him.

“Ah,” he didn’t turn to her as he spoke, but there was familiarity in his tone, “Sylvan, I am glad you seem to be just fine.”

Confused, she moved in front of him to try and see if she recognized him, he had angular features and a face that looked somehow young but as if it carried centuries old wisdom. However, she didn’t know who this person was.

His eyes remained closed, but he addressed her again, “I assume you must be confused, of course you wouldn’t recognize me in this form.” a playful smirk danced to his features, “you are far more used to speaking to a statue.”

“Caldarus?” realization bloomed in her mind, “What’s going on? Where am I?”

“It may take you a moment to remember, but you were grievously injured and near death.” A concerned look rested on his face, “A fault in the mines allowed creatures from much farther down to flood the upper levels and you were overwhelmed.” 

He maintained his meditative state as he explained with a calm, even tone, “My magic is still weak, but I took it upon myself to do what I could to keep your body stable until you were able to receive medical care. I did what I could to heal the injuries that were the most life-threatening. But it may have concerned the doctor…”

Her mind reeled, trying to remember and process, flashes of the events that led her here began to surface. “But what is this? Where am I right now?”

“I believe we are communicating through your subconscious, much like when I first contacted you after you repaired my shrine.” he said matter-of-factly.

That made sense, It was a very similar feeling, however this time she felt far more immersed in it. “So, does that mean I am unconscious?” 

“Correct.” Caldarus sighed, “unfortunately because my magic is so weak I must keep your vitals in a diminished state to allow your body to repair itself, even with mana assisted healing, it will take a few days…” he paused, contemplating,  “Maybe even up to a week. But you are safely in the clinic and in good hands.”

She strained to grasp the memories that were just out of her reach, falling short, “how did I get to the clinic if I was near death?” 

“Well,“ Caldarus began, “You made it to the edge of town, your resolve is commendable to make it that far in the state you were in. However, you collapsed, and young March was the one to find you.”

The hazy image of his bright red hair rushing through the rain sprang to the forefront of her mind, “Oh shit! ” she exclaimed, panic and worry set in to her chest, “I can’t imagine what’s going through his head right now! Our last interaction was… not positive.” 

“He is distraught, but he is handling it well.” he observed, “he feels a heavy weight on his heart and regrets how he treated you. But remains hopeful he will be able to rectify that with you.”

“I can’t…” She started, distressed, “I’m not going to make him wait and stress out for a week!” 

At this, Caldarus opened his eyes. She felt anxious as she watched his piercing gaze flicker between her eyes, searching for something that she couldn’t place.

After a long moment, he spoke, “it may be possible to speed up the healing process.” He watched her face light up with optimism, “I have bestowed mana upon you, I’m unsure how effective it will be, but we could try joining our power.” 

“Just tell me what to do.” There was not an ounce of hesitation in her voice, her expression steeled with determination.

“Take a seat across from me.” He said simply, she obeyed, mirroring his cross-legged position, he extended his open hands, palm up, resting his elbows on his knees, “place your hands upon mine and close your eyes.”

She did as she was told and could immediately feel the flow of mana begin to ebb and flow between them. She needed no further explanation to understand she was lending him her own mana to amplify his powers. She sat still and silent, allowing him to focus as they fell into equilibrium. She felt a dull throb in her head and got the sense she could feel the repairs being made to her body even in this plane of consciousness. She focussed hard on assisting Caldarus, hoping to ease March’s worry as soon as possible.

~~ — ~~

It was the sound of the clinic door shutting that roused March from his restless sleep the next morning. It was quiet and sunlight filtered in through the drawn curtains, alerting March to the fact that at some point Valen had tucked privacy screens in all around, creating a makeshift private room for him and Sylvan.

He looked to Sylvan, her chest still rose and fell in the same rhythm that it had the night before, her face still the same neutral expression as she remained unconscious before him. The sunlight illuminated her bruised skin, many of the bruises had seemed to heal rather rapidly. They appeared as only a slight greenish or yellow tint on her skin, as opposed to the angry reds, blues, and purples of the night before. He took a moment to tentatively grasp her hand in his, interlocking their fingers. This time he felt her fingers twitch against his and felt a warm tinge of hope squeeze his heart, a deep sigh escaped him, and some tension released from his stiff muscles.

He laid her hand back down gently, but as his hand parted from hers, he felt a static thrum between them. Shocked by the sensation, he carefully ran his fingertips along the inside of her wrist, to his surprise he felt what he could only describe as a current, flowing very faintly across her skin. His mind wandered, piecing together the events of the last 24 hours, could this be whatever force was keeping her safe and healing her? Or was he perhaps hallucinating now from stress?

He wasn’t able to finish his thought before the door to the clinic opened again, two familiar voices chatting to each other as they entered, Valen and Juniper. March recalled Valen wanting to get Juniper's opinion on the matter of the mysterious healing factor. He got to his feet and emerged from behind the privacy screen, ignoring the delighted glint in Juniper’s eye as he stretched his tired muscles.

“Ah,” Valen started, “March here has been so kind to monitor my patient for me, so I could get some rest.” He appreciated her trying to give him an out, despite how weak the excuse sounded.

“Is that so?” Juniper said, looking him up and down, it was clear she knew something was up, but she moved on, “Well, you wanted me to have a look at some abnormalities right? Let’s get right on that.”

“Right. March, why don’t you go grab some breakfast while we work?” Valen suggested, as Juniper began moving the privacy screen out of the way, “You’re welcome back any time.” 

“Yeah, I’ll do that.” March said flatly, unable to muster the energy to give any more of a response. As much as he didn’t want to leave Sylvan’s side right now, he was hungry and really needed some fresh air.

“What the fuck?” Juniper’s incredulous tone stopped March dead in his tracks on the way to the door, panic immediately gripping him.

“What?” Valen spoke before he could, “what's wrong?”

They both rushed toward where Juniper stood, hovering her hand just above Sylvan's chest, her face twisted into what March could only read as an approximation of frustration and confusion.

“There’s mana at work here,” she said in disbelief, “it’s faint and diminished but the source it is from is ancient and powerful…” her voice trailed off as she retracted her hand, “Just what is our local farm girl getting herself involved in?” 

Valen and March exchanged confused glances, but it was Valen who spoke up, “mana? I had heard that creatures had re-emerged in the mines, but there’s mana here?” She paused, looking pensive for a moment, “that would explain the rapid healing and strange vitals, but it's still hard to believe.”

“Choose to believe it or not,” she shrugged, “it’s not my problem. Either way, she’s going to be fine.” There was a rushed tempo to her words and an underlying bite of something March couldn’t quite place. “Now, if that’s all you required me for, you’ll have to excuse me. I have things to tend to.” 

She didn’t wait for them to speak before she hurried out the door, March had no idea what that was about. He felt some ease in hearing that Sylvan should be fine, despite his mind reeling over the mention of magical forces being involved.

Valen sighed, “I’m still skeptical, so I’m going to continue to monitor her closely…” she glanced at Sylvan, brow furrowed, “but I can’t deny that the rate at which she’s recovering is unnatural. Just mere hours ago she was practically at death's door and now she looks as if she's already been in recovery for weeks.”

March’s head was throbbing, between the stress, the restless sleep and the bombardment of new information he felt like he couldn’t quite get his feet under him.

Valen seemed to notice his state of distress and offered him a reassuring smile, “what we do know is that she seems to be doing fine at the moment. March, you should go eat and get some air to clear your head.” 

“Right,” March replied, “I’ll do that, thank you.”

~~—~~

His day went by uneventfully, much to his relief, it gave him time to process the events that had transpired. 

He ate at the inn, checked in with Olric at the shop, and occupied himself with cleaning the forge. His brother had prohibited him from engaging in any meaningful work today, but he needed something to keep his hands busy. 

The townsfolk proceeded with their daily routines around him, however no one really approached him while he was around town, he assumes because he likely looked like he didn’t want to be approached, but he overheard conversations about Sylvan. The common theme was that they hoped she was okay and planned what they could do to help her out as she recovered. Olric had already taken it upon himself to ask Hayden and Celine to tend her animals and crops for her, both of whom happily obliged, eager to assist their friend in her time of need.

It was obvious that Sylvan had become a staple of the community, there wasn’t a single person in town that didn’t speak fondly of her, save for March himself. Though he didn’t publicly speak of his dislike towards her anymore, he didn't go around singing her praises like everyone else either. He still felt a tinge of jealousy when she was so often the topic of discussion, but even that had diminished over time, and given the recent events he now felt guilty more than anything.

“Hey, March.” Ryis’ voice pulled him from his lamenting. “How are you doing?”

March sighed, one of his friends was bound to come check on him, “I guess Olric filled you in on what happened?” His tone was just a little more annoyed than he intended it to be.

“Yeah, I saw that you were out and about and I wanted to check in with you.” Ryis said, his voice laced with sympathy and concern, “I heard Sylvan is still unresponsive in the clinic.”

“She is.” March stated flatly, not looking up from his task of sweeping the concrete steps in an attempt to keep his frayed emotions in check, “But if you’re concerned about her, shouldn’t you be at the clinic checking in on her instead of talking to me about it?” 

“I'm worried about you too, March.” The stern tone in his voice made March still as he turned to look at his friend, “I’m not blind, I’ve seen the way you look at her now that you’ve finally let down your guard around her.”

The blunt statement sent a shock through March, he felt his cheeks burn as he stammered, “I-I don’t look at her in any particular way!” 

Ryis just rolled his eyes at him, “Yeah, sure, March.” His voice dripped with sarcasm, “lying to yourself isn’t doing you any favours. I’ve seen the way she looks at you too, you’re only wasting time for both of you.”

March felt the heat spread to his ears, he didn’t like being put under a microscope like that. He couldn’t really deny he felt a certain way about her, but he was still wrapping his head around exactly what that meant, and how, or if he should, even approach it.

“I don’t know…” his shoulders slumped as his uncertainty took hold, “I don’t know how I feel… I feel something , but that matters very little right now considering she is unconscious in a hospital bed at the moment.” He moved to the steps of the forge and took a seat, and Ryis followed suit.

There was a moment of silence between them before Ryis spoke, “Well, how do you feel about that?”

March looked at him incredulously, “you mean about her almost dying and remaining unresponsive after our last interaction ended in me treating her like shit again? Pretty fuckin’ horrible, actually.”

Ryis blinked at him, dumbfounded, “I didn’t know about all that other stuff…”

March groaned, “I’m sorry, I just– It’s a lot.” he leaned forward, putting his head in his hands, “I’m not good with people, and I have this stupid fuckin’ ego…” he began to explain himself, “She stopped by to tell me she was going to the mines specifically in case something happened to her, but she showed me the work order she got from Adeline…” he trailed off as shame washed over him just the same as it had then.

“And you got jealous.” Ryis quipped, knowing March all too well.

“I did!” March cried out, frustration over his actions turning his voice frantic, “I got stupidly jealous and dismissed her! And then because I felt so bad about that, I just kept working and didn’t even think to go check on her when it got late!” he punched the concrete step beside him, ignoring the sharp pain that shot across his knuckles, “exactly the thing she came to me for, I ignored, and she almost died! She could still die, who knows?!” 

By the time March had finished speaking, he was shaking, Ryis put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “She won’t die March. I’ll bet if anything she’s worried that you feel bad and is fighting to get back on her feet for you.”

Ryis’ blind optimism kind of irritated March, but regardless, he felt his anger and frustration begin to ebb away, “She’s not even conscious you dork, she can’t worry.”

“But you know she would if she could.” Ryis said, bumping March with his elbow playfully.

March heaved a sigh, “yeah, she would.”

~~—~~

After spending the rest of the day at his drafting table, March made his way back to the clinic. He wasn’t sure if he was going to stay the night again, but he knew he needed to at least check in.

When he entered, Valen was sitting at her desk filling out paperwork, she looked up and smiled when she saw March in the doorway.

“I’m about to turn in for the night, she’s doing fine still, vitals still all the same and her recovery has advanced just as fast as it was before.” She offered up the information before March even had the chance to ask.

“That’s good… I guess.” March replied, still not sure what to make of the strange situation.

“Feel free to make yourself comfortable if you’re staying again tonight.” She said as she closed her ledger, standing up from her seat.

“Okay, thanks.” 

As she walked up the stairs, March made his way over to the privacy screens that separated Sylvan from the rest of the clinic. When he entered, he saw that there was already a chair pulled up to her bedside, along with a small table with a pitcher of water and a couple of glasses placed on it. He took a seat, silently appreciating the thoughtfulness of the local doctor, as he inspected Sylvan's current state. 

The worst of the bruises that marred her body just over a day ago were nothing more than whispers of yellow colouring dotting her flesh; the cuts, and scrapes now only faint scars, white and raised from her skin. He could scarcely believe she was in as terrible a state as she was when he found her collapsed in the mud on that rainy night.

He felt minor relief, but unease still bit back at him, she has still yet to wake up despite looking so comparatively healthy. He gently held her hand again, pondering about how he never dared to attempt such an action when she was awake, but now he barely even thought about it before reaching for her. He examined her fingers, her cuticles were well maintained and her nails cut short. She had slight calluses from her work on her farm and in the mines, they were not as developed as the ones on his hands but still blatantly present.

He clasped her hand in both of his, resting his forehead on his closed hands, he silently willed her to wake up soon. He wasn't sure what he was going to say to her, but he knew he needed to apologize, he wanted to be kinder to her, and he realized he wanted to be closer to her as well.

He looked up to her face and noticed her brow was slightly furrowed, her eyes moved behind her lids, ever so slightly, and her jaw was tense. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, but it was more activity than she has shown since she was brought in. March sighed, too scared to be too optimistic, he resolved he would be sleeping at her bedside again tonight.

~~—~~

Sylvan wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but the entire time she had sat with Caldarus she could feel tingles all over her as different areas were focused on to repair. They were faint, like static across her skin, and she had gotten used to it. 

So when she suddenly felt pressure and warmth spread across her right hand, her concentration faltered. Caldarus peeked at her when her eyes snapped open to look at her hand with a puzzled expression, he cleared his throat and she jumped a little as she looked at him.

“I think,” he started, “we have done enough here. I imagine it won’t be long before you wake.”

“You think so?” she asked.

“Yes.” he replied simply.

“Hmm.” she hummed pensively, “I don’t really feel any different…”

“But you do,” he said knowingly, “you just felt someone take your hand.”

She glanced at her hand again, was that what that was? She looked to Caldarus for further explanation, but he just let out an amused chuckle.

“I feel too awake here.” she observed, looking around at the endless void surrounding them, “how do I wake up?”

“It’s simple,” Caldarus said, getting to his feet, she noticed he was quite tall, “you must leave here. I think you will sleep a little longer yet, but you will likely wake before the sun rises.”

His omnipotence reminded her that he was, in fact, a divine being. “Well, how do I leave?”

“I will send you off.” he moved around behind her, “are you ready to leave?” 

“Yeah, I think I have to go.” she said, a little sad that she didn’t have the chance to get to know Caldarus more while they were in such a personal atmosphere.

Sensing her apprehension, he chuckled, “We may well meet again like this sometime, do not worry about me, you have people waiting for you to get back on your feet at home.”

She smiled to herself, “yeah, you’re right… Thank you for everything, Caldarus.”

“It was my pleasure.” he said softly, moving closer to her, “It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to utilize my powers in such a way, it has helped break up some of the tedium that comes with being in a state such as mine.”

There was a brief moment of silence as she mulled over his words, but before she could say anything, she felt his firm hands on her shoulders and the familiar sensation of mana flowing across her skin.

She turned her head to look back at him and met his eyes as he spoke, “Goodbye Sylvan, we will speak at my shrine again after you return home.”

And with that she was plummeted into darkness again, but this time the sensation that welcomed her was warm and soft.

[aceofspades-sml]

My (extensive) notes about the Newsies ensemble + secondary and background characters in the UK production

Again disclaimer, I sat in Manhattan so I am aware I missed lots of interactions between the boys but I already have a lot to say from what I saw

Also I will put race in my other post about the main characters because I have way too much stuff to say about him

Uksies spoilers below the cut

A few thoughts about the ensemble :

The level of character in this show is genuinely so good ?? Like even background newsies with little to no line still have a kind of character arc through the show

Because it's not just about what's going on "officially" on stage, it's all the little interactions they have in the background or when walking through the aisles. It's the way they hug and show affection to each other. It's the way they clearly all have preferred friendships, people they will choose to go to, even tho they are close to all the others. It's the way they run to help each other during Seize the day, the way they look so sad and betrayed when the scabs appear for the first time- And I could go on for hours about all the little interactions like those

Also they added so much stuff to give more depth to every single character ??? Like in Seize the day they all come into a triangle and say their name, and yes it's important for the strike on a symbolic level but also in the show, because they aren't just members of the ensemble. Each of them is his own character with his own personality and honestly that's really interesting and meaningful

+ this is echoed later on when the girlsies all come into a circle and say their name during Brooklyn's here (also they have their own dance break !!! Center stage !!). And the Brooklyn girls don't play a major part in the show after that song (except maybe for Spot), but here, in the same way as the boys, they get the opportunity to be seen by the audience as their own character

So yeah I could say a lot about the ensemble stuff but tbh this part was so striking to me I really wanted to talk about it because it's really beautiful and I love the fact that this was included in the show

Anyway a few of my favorite things about the secondary/background characters, in no particular order because I basically just wanted to write down my thoughts

Tommy boy < 33

If you know me you know I love him, and Jack bromage owns my heart and soul

When I talked about how background newsies get a character arc, I was specifically thinking about him. During Seize the day he is the last scab to change his mind (they gave him the "My father's gonna kill me anyway" line !!!!), and then later during the rally he is really angry and screams "WE HATE YOU" at jack at the top of his lungs. Yes he is insecure and mad at Jack because he was the one who convinced him to join the strike and now he is just giving up on them

Tommy boy okay

Also I already mentionned this but in the "who wants Brooklyn" scene he just goes lying face first on the ground and plays dead, which is even funnier because 0.0005 seconds earlier he was among the most eagers to talk to the others neighbourhoods. Comedic gold I swear

Finch

I LOVE DAMON OKAY

His mic was broken at the beginning and there was a moment of panic when he realized it but tbh he coped like a boss

Gayest Finch and I'm not sorry

When the scabs come in and he says "They think they can just walz in here and take our jobs ?", he sounds genuinely heartbroken and betrayed. Those guys are his friends and he can't believe they are doing this. Also when he was saying this line it looked like he was talking directly to one of the scabs but I didn't see which one

Henry

Update on my Henry hyperfixation : it's stronger than ever

Give me Matt's Henry or give me death

"I'M COMING RACE" Okay king

At the beginning of Carrying the banner he scratches his crotch very agressively with his towel and then proceeds to wash his face with said towel. Got quite a reaction from the audience

His attitude and costume clearly put him among the oldest boys along with Finch, Race, Specs and Albert

Before wwk it felt like he was one of the angriest about the prices, tho he also seemed quite bewildered and lost and didn't know what to do about it

His "What the absolute fuck Race" attitude during kony was extremely strong

Also him and Race seemed to be pretty close ! E.g. when the boy all come in front of the gate before wwk, he is pulling a carriage with Race on it and when Race gets down he ruffles Henry's hair, which I thought was a pretty cute detail to add

Mike

He seemed so young ??? When all the boys were discussing the strike he just looked really tiny and anxious

It has been officially established that he is among the youngest newsies and um sir. It shows.

Also he is very loud and visible. He has like 1 solo line but you can't miss him. He talks loudly, gets angry, moves a lot...

Also he goes on the zipline at the end !!

Romeo

"Me thinks the lady needs to be handled by a *snaps suspenders* real man"

Cutest Romeo I swear

Also his "thank you lady" at the beginning ? Not only was it perfect but also I'm pretty sure some of the boys winced (Mark I'm looking at you) and judging by his voice George himself was close to losing it

Overall my favorite interpretation of the character and I was really sad I didn't get to focus on him more

Elmer

Not the one I focused on the most, but Rory looked so sweet honestly !

"I dunno sister but it's bound to rain sooner or later" amazing as always

Everytime I looked at him he looked kinda happy and cheerful, elmer is and will always be the human embodiment of pure sunshine

Splasher !!!

Given that he is a new character, he was the only newsies I didn't know anything about when I came in and I immediately fell in love with him (I mean how can you not)

Okay part of it is because they gave him my favorite line of the show : "at the end of the say who are you gonna trust ? Them (affectionate) or them (derogatory) ?"

And he is genuinely so sweet ?? Everytime I looked at him he was smiling and tbh his smile his very contagious

In seize the day he is the first one to get hit by the cops (he has the line "it's about time you showed up") and um hello ??? Give this boy a hug already

Also obviously, the talent of this guy is incredible. Absolutely rocking the floor in Seize the day + he has an amazing voice !!!

ALBERT

He was ??? Perfect ??

He is loud he is arrogant he is a hothead he is a pure ball of chaos

The leg of lamb scene was legit the most ridiculously funny line delivery. He just comes stumbling on stage in nothing but a towel like "hey race guess what very interesting thing just happened to me-"

During Carrying the banner my boy was straight up ready to fight the Delanceys

"TAKE IT DOWN SHORT STOP" okay but it isn't just the voice it's the way he takes a tough pose and his whole mocking attitude toward Les. Jacob said he was trying to mimic the attitude of the Les he has in front of him and honestly, it shows

Also for anyone wondering yes the Race/Albert friendship was very present. He also seemed kinda close to Specs

Also Specs !

I didn't get to focus on him as much as I would have wanted (same goes for Mush, Jojo and Ike actually that's why I'm not talking about them here, I really hope I'll be able to look at those four more when I go back) but still

They cut "I lost my shoe" ??? The worst part is I actually knew about it but forgot so during wwk I was expecting this line and was really thrown off when they just skipped to the next lyrics

Before Seize the day when he is on look-out and Jack (?) asks if he has any news of Brooklyn he goes "no" and adds "I'm sorry". And like it's a new thing and the way he said it ??? He was so sad and hopeless I just wanted to give him a hug

Okay yes I didn't get to look at them at other moments but still huge shoutout to Josh Denyer and Arcangelo for absolutely rocking the floor during Seize the day

The girlsies < 33

I LOVE THEM ???

Their entrance was so dramatic and sassy pls

Also I will never stop talking about it but- they get a dance break !!! They get to say their names !!! They are so much more important than in any other production I love it

Also they don't just stay in their own little corner, they interact with the boys ! They all seem to be on pretty friendly terms, they talk together, hug and wave at each other...

They aren't just plot devices with one (1) dramatic scene, they are characters ! They have friends !! They have actual friendships with the Manhattan boys !! And it makes the whole Brooklyn's here scene so much more meaningful bc it really feels like they are coming to help their friends

Did I ever mention how much I love Spot ? Lillie slaying as always

She is tough she is sarcastic she is ready to kick your ass I love her

Also at some point Lillie said Spot was very close to Davey in act 2, and if I'm being honest I had some doubts about this friendship but boy oh boy I would die for them

During the rally + during and after once and for all they seem to be talking together a lot and be on very good terms which was actually pretty cool !

Okay moving on to some non-newsies characters and then I'll stop I promise

Bill and Darcy !!!

They switched the costume colors around, Darcy has a dark suit while Bill has a white one so that was a change

Also George said "My father owns the tribune" (instead of just "the trib" like I'm used to) so that threw me off for a bit but actually I liked it

Also I loved the way Alex said "And proud to be a part of your revolution !" It felt really natural and nice I love Bill okay he's so sweet

Anyway then they were just. Vibing by the printing press. Good for them honestly

The Delancey

They are literally evil. They aren't just messing around, they actually mean harm. E.g. when they are taking Jack in the cellar he just falls on the ground and they keep kicking him

But what's to like in this production is their dynamic with each other. They are extremely physical, everything they come in they are always very close, shoulders brushing or something. Also they often gently push and tease each other

Overall in this version they feel so much more like brothers, their dynamic as a family and toward the newsies was much deeper and more interesting than in any other version imo

Also they aren't just physically affectionate with each other. The three scabs ? They were comforting them and patting their shoulders before pushing them towards the other newsies. When the first scab joins the strike (I don't remember who it was), they are being very gentle with Tommy boy, from where I was it looked like they were telling him he was gonna be okay or smth

Hannah < 333

Hello ??? Bobbie Chambers I owe you my heart and soul

She was amazing pls

Extremely light-hearted and a bit sarcastic

At the end in Pulitzer's office she starts going "actually they put up a pretty good banner" and so on and then she sees Pulitzer's face and just goes *okay sorry" in the most oh-shit-don't-kill-me voice ever

Anyway every single one of her lines was delivered perfectly nothing but love for her

Finally, Medda !

Amazing as always, I feel like her relationship with Jack was really explored here !

It's the way they hug the first time Jack comes in the theater. The way she cares so deeply for him and worries about him. It's the way she looks genuinely sad about the fact he wants to go, she knows it's a bad idea and wants to hold him back but at the same time she knows it's his choice so she doesn't force him to do anything

Also the That's rich performance was pretty cool !!

[codename-mom]

First day at school

Summary: Jack is now old enough to go at school and his father has trouble to deal with this very special day.

Characters: Mostly Jack and Hotch (but some BAU members appear)

Contents: TW well, as Hotch is the king of anxiety, the text is quite angsty (mention of grief and of what Foyet did to him), but I tried to make it a little bit fluffy too.

This is a text written for the New Beginings CM challenge organized by @imagining-in-the-margins.

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

Hotch stopped in front of JJ's desk, absorbed in her mission report, and saw her flinch when she realized he was standing right next to her. He smiled at her, and she smiled back.

“JJ. Tomorrow I'm going to be very late, he announced, looking a little embarrassed. Check with Morgan which file we need to work on and give me a summary of the briefing when I arrive.”

“Okay, she nodded, eyebrows furrowed. Is there a problem?”

“First day at school.”

“Ouch! She winced immediately. I’m weeping in anticipation. Good luck.”

“Thank you, he answered with a shy smile. See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow, Hotch.”

Yes, the fateful date had arrived: Jack was now old enough to start school. An event that represented both a form of relief – for Jessica and Ada, who would no longer need to put their respective lives on hold to raise a child that wasn't even theirs – and a source of terrible anguish for the agency director.

He still couldn't believe how much his son had grown since the day he regained custody. He still had the impression of holding his tiny body in the palm of his hands, watching him stagger around the living room in search of his balance, and witnessing his chaotic attempts to learn to eat on his own. And tomorrow, he would go to school.

Tomorrow, he'd leave the nest to mingle with other kids his age, with whom he'd discover the world in all its aspects. Tomorrow, he'd be meeting human beings who wouldn't necessarily be at his feet, let alone in his pocket, with whom he'd have to negotiate, argue, discuss, and exchange to make himself heard or win his case. Tomorrow, he'd realize that life in society required bending even more rules than he'd ever known before, that obeying them wouldn't be easy, and that disobeying them would be even more damaging. Tomorrow, the cocoon in which he'd been enclosed until then would be torn apart, and his father wouldn't be there to fly to his rescue.

Aaron was unable to suppress the panic that had gripped him for two weeks now. He'd done all he could to soften it up, planning this day down to the last detail, but nothing had helped. Jack's schoolbag was ready, as were his clothes; the breakfast table was set, the car refueled, the itinerary marked, and the documents requested by the school completed. But his heart continued to drum far too hard against his ribs as he sought sleep. What he was afraid of? To be lost? It was a stone’s throw from the apartment. To be late? Even if an unexpected traffic jam came up, they could always get there on foot if need be. For not giving his offspring the keys to get by? It was a possibility, but his aunt and grandmother had had to make up for his shortcomings. That Jack has had a bad experience and never wants to go back?

A silence passed in his head as the vise tightened around his lungs. This plunge into the deep end of the pool was no small step in a toddler's life. It was almost the equivalent of a parachute jump for an adult: even with the best possible precautions, there was always a chance – tiny sometimes – that things could go wrong. He tried in vain to remember what he had experienced and felt that day, but his brain ignored his request, content to amplify the feeling of malaise that had assailed him for the past fortnight. And even if he could remember his own back-to-school experience, his descendant wasn't him. Far from it. The difficulties he had potentially encountered would not be those he would encounter. And conversely, the facilities he'd had would, logically, not be those he'd have. And he had no way of preparing him to overcome these obstacles. He had no choice but to push him into the arena and pray for the best.

An action he lived as a betrayal of the flesh of his flesh – for all he knew – and one he'd never forgive himself for if the day took a turn for the worse. He felt guilty even before anything had happened and seeing it didn't make him feel any better. Especially as another feeling wandered in his gut. He was sad. He'd imagined that moment so differently that he couldn't erase the projection he'd mentalized years earlier to update it with their current situation. At the time, he had thought that someone would be at his side to endure this heartbreak with him. That he'd have a hand to hold to help suppress his anxiety. That he would have a smile to cross to lighten the weight on his shoulders. That he would have an ear to confide his worries and questions to. But there was no one.

Tomorrow, he'd be on his own to deal with whatever came his way, and it was totally out of the question for Jack to see the stress that was devouring him by the hour. He had to put on a good show, through and through, as long as he was still in his son's field of vision. Smiling and being reassuring were the guidelines he should absolutely follow. And if he felt like screaming or running away with him in his arms, he'd have to contain himself and triple lock his emotions. Like he was doing at Quantico. Not for nothing was he nicknamed "The Iceberg" by the other unit heads. So why did it now seem so impossible?

“Put your shoes on, Jack, while I finish packing your bag,” he ordered as the kid finished pulling on his hooded sweatshirt.

The profiler hadn't slept all night, and the look on his face had given him the shivers in the mirror, but he had gone through his usual routine before waking the little boy. He, seemed to have had an excellent night's sleep and was up and about, swallowing his meal as if it were just another day. He then went to the bathroom, washed his face, brushed his teeth, and quickly ran a comb through his fine hair, before returning to his room. He had ignored his father's suggestion of an outfit and chosen a more... Jurassic one, then gone back outside to give his sire a whole bunch of odds and ends he insisted he expressly needed. He then left to finish dressing, leaving Aaron with a light-up yo-yo, three marbles, a Playmobil, a Spiderman pencil, and an Elastic Man figurine. The giant sighed and reached for the boy's schoolbag to slip in all those treasures that would give him peace of mind if need be.

“Okay,” said Jack, taking a seat by the shoe rack.

“Both the same, please.”

“…Yes, Dad,” he grumbled, annoyed at not being able to carry out his Machiavellian plan.

Since he'd learned to put his sneakers on by himself, he'd taken great pleasure in combining the elements of the four pairs he had in any way he could. Hotch wasn't sure how long he'd been doing it, since he'd suddenly realized it in the park when his shoelaces were untied, and he had a waffle in his hands. His progenitor's expression of surprise had made the youngster laugh out loud, and obviously the frown that always escaped his control when Aaron discovered he'd repeated his forfeit delighted him just as much. By now, the director was getting used to it, but he didn't want to be given a bad label on the first meeting. He had been officially declared negligent to his wife, if he could avoid being so to his son, it would take a thorn out of his side.

“Are you all set?” he asked his son as he zipped up his coat.

“Yes,” he declared with pride.

“Ready for the big day?”

“Yes,” he repeated, with the same determination.

The titan knelt down to be level with the boy's face and took one of his hands.

“Don’t worry, everything is going to be fine. You'll make lots of new friends and learn lots of new stuff.”

“I know. You told me yesterday. And the day before. And the day before before…”

“Okay, he interrupted before he could go any further. Well, maybe we’ll go then. It'll save me having to tell you again.”

Jack's smile stretched from ear to ear, mocking. Father and son were currently living on two different planets, the first as anxious as the second was serene. The profiler could have rejoiced that the kid had obviously taken everything from his mother – both in physical appearance and in mind – but mostly he felt particularly foolish. He swallowed to try and get the knot out of his throat, without success. The duo left the scene, found the car, and climbed in. Hotch started up shortly afterwards and took to the road. Sitting in his booster seat, Jack observed the building facades, nodding his head in harmony with the music playing on the car radio.

“Try not to lose your things, please,” said his father when he stopped at the first red light.

“Why would I lose them?” questioned a puzzled Jack.

“Because when I was your age, I was always losing things. Every day, I came home from school with something missing, he revealed, as he suddenly reminded this detail. It drove you grand-mother crazy. So, if you take after me a little, it's likely to happen to you.”

He also remembered that he had absolutely no explanation to give his mother every time. He'd put them in a corner and when he came back to them, everything was gone. Of course, he didn't realize the financial impact his air headedness was having, and only thought that a new pair of gloves or a new beanie would fall right into his lap the following week. But now that he was on the other side of the fence, he understood better the dark looks Ada had once given him. His brain also reminded him of the consequences for herself, but Jack's voice short-circuited this plunge into the abyss of his memory.

“So, it’s no big deal.”

“What?” he croaked, surprised by the kid's reflection.

“You're saying I'm going to lose my stuff like you did. So that means it’s normal. So it’s no big deal.”

Aaron squinted, analyzing his son's reasoning. His train of thought was a bit far-fetched, but made sense, nonetheless. However, this wasn't going his way, so he resumed:

“…Yes, except I wish you wouldn't do what I did. Because I won’t be able to buy it all back. Okay?”

The little boy wore a worried expression that struck him right in the heart. He had never intended to stress him out and regretted imposing this rule on him from the outset when the day was already going to be rich enough in new information.

“Okay. It won't be a big deal, but just try to be careful, he recommended, diplomatically. Understand?”

Jack nodded, looking concerned.

“I didn’t hear you.”

“Yes, Dad,” he replied cheerlessly.

The sadness on his face aroused his father's natural guilt, and he mentally reproached himself for this dispensable outburst of severity. He had to defuse the situation so that his offspring didn't arrive at school looking so down. The boy possessed an innate joie de vivre that regularly lifted his sire's spirits, and he was keen that his future classmates should see this aspect of his personality first and foremost. So, at the next traffic light, Hotch reached behind him to tickle the toddler's belly, who immediately began to squirm to dodge the attack. His mouth twisted, stretching into an amused smile before a burst of laughter crossed his lips. His assailant rapidly regained his good humor and started up again. A few minutes later, he parked in the school parking lot.

“Here we are.”

The federal agent got out of the car, walked around the vehicle and unfastened the seatbelt. He helped Jack onto dry land, and the latter immediately slipped his hand into the adult’s while he retrieved his bag. Then the pair joined the flow of other parent-child pairs making their way towards the headmistress. She greeted them with a broad smile when it was their turn.

“Good morning, gentlemen, she trumpeted cheerfully. Olivia Simmons, I’m the school director.”

“Hello. Aaron Hotchner and this is my son,” he answered shaking her hand.

“And what's this big boy's name?” she asked, leaning towards him.

“Jack, ma’am,” he confided, suddenly shy.

He tried to hide behind his father's legs, all of sudden much less at ease in this unfamiliar environment.

“You can call me Olivia, she said reassuringly. Welcome. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask me. Okay?”

“Yes, ma'am,” he did, clinging to Aaron's fingers.

“Come on. You can join your comrades over there.”

She pointed to a group of schoolchildren, all displaying the same nervousness. Those who had been there all along were just beginning to relax enough to meet the newcomers. Jack looked up at his ascendant, his eyes shining. He was scared. Hotch crouched instantly in front of him, while the headmistress moved away to address other parents. He could feel the trembling of the kid, who had snuggled into his arms as soon as possible and clung to his jacket like a lifeline. An irrepressible urge to take him away from all this arose in him that he had to fight fiercely. The moment was heartbreaking for both of them, but it was a necessary step in their life together. Soon – he was praying for it – that day would be a distant memory, leaving only a faint trace in the boy's mind.

“Are you picking me up tonight?” he questioned him, his little knuckles closed around his tie.

“I don’t know yet, Jack. Maybe it'll be Jessica,” he asserted, quickly realizing that he'd been so focused on the start of the new school year that he'd forgotten to think about when classes would end.

“I'd rather it be you, Jack confessed, turning his eyes on him. Then I could tell you everything I did today.”

He could hear the boy's plea, but all his professional responsibilities came to the fore and there was clearly no room for a mid-afternoon return to the area. Even less so if a file requiring travel was to fall on his team.

“I'll call you if I have to leave, he declared before emphasizing, Jessica will take very good care of you.”

“But it's not the same,” moaned the youngster, on the verge of tears.

Aaron felt his throat tighten, his insides liquefy, and his muscles tense in unison. This reaction was exactly what he'd been dreading, and dismay overwhelmed him. His thoughts raced through his head. They bumped, piled up, and disintegrated until they formed an unintelligible mass of words and sensations that didn't help him at all to get out of this trap. But the boy's tremors called for a response from him, and only one possibility was open to him.

“…I'll try to be there,” he said in the end.

Jack’s smile reappeared on the spot.

“But I can’t promise anything. Okay?”

“…Okay,” he replied, without quite losing his new-found good humor.

“I love you, buddy,” he confided, placing a kiss on his temple.

His offspring embraced him and said:

“I love you, Dad.”

Then Hotch kissed him on the forehead and encouraged the boy to take the first step. Reassured, he headed for the group of children, one of whom immediately approached him. The agency head was too far away to hear what was being said, but the tone seemed friendly. He got to his feet and sighed heavily to ease the tension in his muscles. Having completed the first stage, he now had to tackle the second. In two steps, he reached the director.

“Mrs. Simmons.”

“Mr. Hotchner,” she reacted, smiling.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?”

“If it’s about allergies, we have a form to fill out for that,” she anticipated, pointing to the table set up nearby, on which several documents had been made available to parents.

“No. No, everything is fine from this side.”

“Perfect. What’s the issue then?”

He felt the cold take possession of his body and a knot formed in his windpipe. What he had to reveal was already painful in thought, it would be even more so when he had to say it out loud. Months and months had passed since the events, but he still had the feeling that it had just happened or, sometimes, that it had just been a bad dream from which he was finally waking up. The euphoria that followed disappeared as soon as he stepped into the living room and saw the portrait on the dresser, the only two plates on the dining table or the toys scattered on the carpet.

“… His mother died, he announced, his voice breaking, before adding: a year ago.”

“Oh. I'm sorry for your loss,” bounced the forty-year-old, genuinely moved.

“Thank you.”

Then he saw her frowning, puzzled.

“Excuse-me but… do I know you?”

A shiver ran down his spine and he swallowed his saliva, uneasy.

“… I hope not. Why?”

“Your face looks familiar, she admitted, before pulling herself together. Well, never mind. Go on.”

“Normally, he has understood that she won’t coming back, but it's possible that his mind is sometimes elsewhere. He may also resent being reminded by his peers that he has only one parent left.”

Even though he had coped much better with the disappearance of the woman who had given him life than he had, he occasionally caught him standing motionless in the middle of his toys, mute and with a low expression on his face, obviously prey to some questioning. It was a fleeting state that faded as soon as Jessica, he or another family member entered his field of vision, but Aaron always paid close attention. In the same way, he had noticed his envious look at the park as he watched the other children interact with their mother. He appreciated his father's presence, but missed Haley's gentleness and positivity.

“Yes, I understand, nodded the headmistress, adopting a soothing expression. Look, Mr. Hotchner, Jack isn't the first child we've taken in who's already lost his mother, so we should be able to manage.”

“Okay. If… if there's any problem, I've written my cell phone number on his card, he insisted, handing her the document. You can call me anytime.”

“It’ll be fine, I assure you.”

He was sure she was convinced by her words – and she probably had all the skills to handle this type of case – but couldn't stop his anxiety galloping through his veins. He was already ready to jump out of his chair, get back in his car, and drive to school to put his son's mind at rest. This reminded him that he hadn’t told her everything.

“One more thing. It is… – he hesitated, conscious of the image this would give of him – probable that I won't be able to pick him up tonight. Only two people are allowed to pick him up. Here is, Jessica, his aunt, and Ada, his grandmother.”

He presented her with snapshots of the two women and she retrieved them, squinting.

“Wait, aren't you the FBI agent who was stabbed to death in his home a little over... – her enthusiasm waned as her memory delivered the rest of the information – a year ago? Oh, my God! Is it… Whoever did this to you is...?”

Hotch cursed Strauss for allowing this reporter to publish this article in the Arlington daily, complete with his photo portrait and far too many details about his assault. Several neighbors had been worried for their lives, and he had had to do some explaining to get them to dare leave their homes again. Fear had reigned over the neighborhood for several weeks, before being gradually dispelled by other news. But some people hadn't completely forgotten, and his interlocutor was now shocked by his mere presence. Completely unsettled, she stared at him as if he were on his deathbed. He had to cut short this situation, which was as embarrassing for him as it was for her.

“If you don’t mind, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Sure! Of course. Excuse me, she went on, distraught. I get that… Photos. Thank you. We… we’ll take good care of Jack.”

She no longer dared to look at him.

“I’ve got to go.”

“Okay. Very good. Good… Have a good day.”

“I hope so.”

He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but her state of shock prevented her from seeing it. He climbed back into his car and drove towards Quantico. He reached the sixth floor just as JJ was settling down in front of her screen. She looked up at him and asked, curious:

“So?”

“He's surprisingly quick to forget my existence,” he observed, as the boy had ignored the last greeting he'd tried to give him.

Absorbed in a conversation with two other boys, he had obliterated his father's tall silhouette from his surroundings.

“Oops! Grinned JJ, feeling sorry for him. Are you okay?”

“It'll be tough, but I'll get through it, he joked without much conviction. What do we have?”

His heart was still pounding under his skull and his muscles were still tense from the tension built up over the last few days. He needed to take his mind off the latent anguish compressing his ribcage.

“Three men found in a river in a small Wyoming town.”

“Locals?”

“No. They were all just passing through, JJ pointed out, handing him the folder. The sheriff is under pressure; tourism is what sustains the locals.”

Reflexively, he opened the cover, but his eyes fell on the scene of the tragedy. His son's words echoed in his head.

“A problem?” inquired JJ, aware of his trouble.

“Jack would like me to pick him up from school tonight.”

“I see. What’s the plan?”

“I'm still thinking about it, he confessed, unable to make a definite decision at this hour. Let’s go.”

Within minutes, the whole team was gathered around the briefing room table, and JJ gave them a brief description of the case and the latest advances in Garcia’s research. The profilers did a series of hypotheses and deductions, concluding that an on-site presence was essential.

“Off we go,” Morgan said, determined.

Everyone left their chairs and collected the papers spread out in front of them, except Aaron, who did not move from his seat. To the surprise of his flock.

“Hotch?” Derek raised an eyebrow, concerned.

His brain was still weighing up the pros and cons of whether or not to accompany his men into the field. While his neighbors were quoting on the proposed case, he had drawn up a comparative table in his head in order to make his decision. So he hadn't listened too much of what had been said, but finally knew what he was going to do.

“Go without me. I have an imponderable here that requires my presence. But I'll be available most of the day and tonight if necessary.”

“Most of?” repeated Prentiss, baffled.

“Not between 3 and 7 PM,” he clarified, rising to his feet.

With the exception of JJ, all the agents looked at each other, equally confused. It wasn't the first time he hadn't followed them in their investigations – his layoff, his most serious injuries and the loss of his ex-wife had kept him at home – but the specificity of this time slot was surprising. They waited for further information, which their superior did not give them, considering it none of their business. He and the liaison officer exchanged glances and agreed that he wouldn't take it badly if she revealed why he'd had to forfeit this time.

“… Okay. See… see you later,” Morgan stammered before leaving the room.

“Good luck.”

Soon he found himself alone with Penelope, who questioned him in silence, unsettled by this sudden change in protocol. He reassured her with a smile and urged her to return to her post to support her colleagues already on the way. He returned to his office and stayed there for most of the day, answering calls from subordinates and others seeking the BAU’s help, relieving the workload of the team's only mother so that she could devote herself fully to the case. One thing led to another, and his employees untangled all the knots in the story, uncovering the culprit's identity in record time. Hotch had already left his office and was driving towards downtown DC when he received a message from Derek that the suspect was under arrest. At the first red light, he sent a congratulatory message to each member of his team, and then continued on to the school, a little more appeased.

                When he pulled into the nearby parking lot, the gates were still closed and only two or three parents were present. He got out of his vehicle but didn't approach them any further, not daring to disturb them or impose unwanted greetings. Anyway, his mind was entirely focused on the imminent arrival of his son. He kept his fingers crossed that everything had gone well and that all he wanted to do was go back. He hoped his master or mistress would be friendly, that he would have learned lots of things that piqued his interest, and that he would even have made some friends. In short, he prayed that he wouldn't be so angry at him for throwing him into the lion's den, with the intention of repeating the gesture.

                The bell went off somewhere within the walls of the building, and less than a minute later, two people came to open the doors to the street. Many more mothers and fathers had appeared since then, and they had all stiffened at the sound of the chirping. In the end, they were all moved by the same concern, which somewhat reassured Aaron, who had often been criticized for overreacting to innocuous subjects. A handful of children emerged from the corridor and rushed towards their targets at full speed. A second wave soon followed, and more pairs and trios were formed. The director felt his heart quicken as his neurons began to imagine all sorts of contingencies that could explain this absence. At the third salvo, a familiar face stood out from the crowd and was immediately spotted. Jack galloped toward him with a smile running from ear to ear, and he threw himself into his arms with a blissful expression that annihilated all apprehensions of this very special day.

___

In the original draft, there's a dialogue between the BAU team members after they left Quantico. JJ told them the truth and as Emily was asking out loud why he didn't say it to them, Derek explained that he just couldn't (because: "Boys...", you know. XD).

I cut it because it's written with Hotch's point of view, so he can't hear them. And I wanted a cuddle between the two Hotchner's boys. X3

[smbiotics]

Here's a little teaser taste of something I'm writing. Just for the record, it is set in Boruto's timeline-ish, but I take very very little from canon. I take some major liberties, sort of crafting the characters into what I think they actually would be like, not what they become canonically. Enjoy!

Naruto is unsurprised to find Sasuke loitering just past the treeline, invisible to all except those looking for him. He looks skittish, but then he always has been within the walls of Konoha for as long as Naruto has known him, and despite being the village’s current Hokage Naruto can’t bring himself to blame him.

“When I asked you to come over, I sort of expected you to come through the front door,” Naruto announces brashly as he appears just behind Sasuke. Either the Uchiha sensed his approach or he is very good at concealing his initial reaction, because Sasuke doesn’t even flinch.

“You’re a dumbass if you thought I’d stroll into your house like a guest.”

Naruto smiles to himself as he heads for the back of his house. Sasuke, despite himself, follows a couple paces behind him. “Aren’t you one?”

“Obviously, you want something. Some mindless mission you think is within my expertise, I assume. Any excuse to get me away from this forsaken village before it becomes overrun with Chunin candidates and the resultant crowds.” Sasuke slants a pointed look at Naruto as they slow to a stop between two support beams on the covered patio. “So, no. Not exactly a guest.”

Naruto feels words souring in his mouth. He had thought they were having witty banter, something like what they had as kids, but Sasuke has approached this as if it is a business transaction. “Sasuke, I don’t have a mission for you.”

“What, so you invited me over to chat?” Sasuke sneers disdainfully, and Naruto has had enough years of interacting with him to see the uncertainty influencing the reaction. Naruto has sort of pulled the rug out from under his friend, and now he feels wrong-footed.

In his most conversational tone, to smooth over the fight Sasuke is trying to pick, Naruto shrugs, shoving his hands in his pocket. “Nah, not exactly. I kind of hoped we could… talk.”

A look of pure, unfettered panic blooms on Sasuke’s face, and Naruto realizes his mistake just seconds too late. It has been years—nearing 15 now—but Naruto knows what “talk” would make Sasuke look at him like that.

“Wait,” Naruto hurries to say, voice soft and hands in front of him as if to calm a spooked stray. “Not—not that. We don’t have to talk about that, unless—unless you want to.”

Sasuke shakes his head once, firmly, and relaxes somewhat, but it seems even just the barest acknowledgement of the event is enough to keep him on edge, and Naruto knows this won’t fare terribly well for the conversation they actually need to have.

“I—I’m worried about Sanadei, actually.”

Sasuke’s eyebrow drops down in consternation. “Talk to Sakura, then.”

“No, I mean,” Naruto pauses, then takes a steadying breath. “I’m worried about how Sakura is, erm. Is treating him. Sarada, too.”

A long, tense silence lasts between them, and Naruto decides to expand upon his concern, since Sasuke doesn’t seem to have anything to say on the matter.

“Yoretsu tells me,” He begins gingerly, “That Sanadei has been forbidden from seeing him until the day of the exams, and that it may extend well past that if, um, Sanadei’s performance isn’t up to her ‘expectations.’” Naruto leans heavily against the beam behind him, tired suddenly. “That he has been expected to train and practice most hours of the day barring meal times, under strict schedules under Sakura’s direct supervision. I asked Sakura about it yesterday, actually, and she told me it was none of my business.”

Sasuke stares at the ground by Naruto’s feet. “You called me over here to complain about Sanadei’s training schedule?”

“No, it’s—” Naruto sighs heavily, frustrated that he can’t seem to articulate precisely what his issue is. “Sasuke. I think it’s bordering on abuse. I heard that—that Sakura has cut lunch meals out of Sanadei’s schedule, too. And Sarada—she torched Yoretsu’s garden a couple of days ago. Sakura told me that he deserved it. I’m worried about where her headspace is, worried that something may be wrong, and I just want to do anything I can to do right by your children.”

“The Sakura we know today is a ruthless beast I have unwittingly created, listening to no reason,” Sasuke says roughly, looking a little sick. “From neglect. From her—her desperation to make me love her. She has never been able to accept how I am, how I feel for her, and she has turned our children into pawns to gain my favor.”

“You have to say something,” Naruto beseeches. “Sasuke, she is Sanadei’s tormentor, Sarada’s enabler. She won’t listen to me.”

Sasuke barks out a harsh noise that vaguely resembles a laugh. “She won’t listen to me either. Do you think I like how she treats them? Better yet, do you think—do you think I even wanted to marry her? She—she takes what she wants, doesn’t take no for a fucking answer.” He stares at Naruto with his one visible eye that speaks louder than any other two eyes could ever accomplish. He had always spoken primarily with his eyes. “She’s delusional, Naruto. She thinks that if she turns my children into unstoppable weapons that I—”

“Have you even tried?” Naruto interrupts on a hiss, tired of the excuses and the words and the frank lack of action. “Have you ever actually sat Sakura down and talked to her once in your whole life? Because I seem to recall your “hints” when we were kids and she was throwing herself all over you. You did your whole cold-shoulder routine, but I don’t remember you ever actually talking to her like she’s a human being.”

A fire blazes in the abyssal umber of Sasuke’s sole visible eye. “I shouldn’t have to spell everything out to her.”

“But maybe you do!” Naruto advances just so and Sasuke frantically retreats as if burned, back bumping the support beam behind him. Slowing to a halt, Naruto places his hands upon his hips with a sigh. He had always been a wounded animal, despite Naruto’s best efforts to nurse him back to health. “Sasuke, I don’t say any of this just because of Yoretsu, because of how it affects him. I care about Sanadei and Sarada. They’re both good kids—I love them. And if you would stay in the village long enough to have a single conversation with either of them, I think you’d know why I’m pushing this so hard.” He looks up at Sasuke through his lashes, takes in his defensive stance, wishes this weren’t so difficult. “I wouldn’t normally criticize or give unwarranted advice on anyone’s parenting style. But this is… it’s an unhealthy environment. And I think if Sakura weren’t in such a—such a manic state, I think she would agree. She would be horrified, Sasuke. She needs your help.” Then, feeling dirty and manipulative but calling his last-ditch effort, Naruto tacks on a soft, “Sasuke. I need your help.”

Something in Sasuke seems to release, because the invisible shield seems to melt away. In a broken whisper, Sasuke says haltingly, “I don’t stay away because I want to.” Then, possibly because he isn’t satisfied with how open-ended the statement is, he continues thickly, “It’s—painful. Being there. I didn’t want—Naruto, she insisted on raising a family in a graveyard.”

Naruto wonders faintly what it is about Sakura that seems to destroy any of Sasuke’s natural stubbornness. He feels a pang of grief for his oldest friend. “Please, Sasuke.”

Sasuke shuts his eyes, looking so pained that Naruto wishes he didn’t have to ask this of him. But then, as if steeling himself, Sasuke stands to his full height and redons his metaphorical Uchiha mask of indifference. “I’ll try,” is all he says before disappearing without a sound.

[jooheonspinky]

From the Ashes 2

Characters: Jungkook x Female reader

Genre: Fantasy!au, angst

Synopsis: I am ready to confess my feelings to Jungkook, but his older brother, a wizard, has other plans. Plans with devastating consequences that I could never have prepared for.

Warnings: various mentions of fire

A/N: This story came about from a dream I had. Actually, two dreams I had last month. You can read them before the story if you'd like. I did have to change a lot in order for it to make a little more sense.

Dream Log 56

Dream Log 57

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Part 2

Word Count: 2.5K

My nose crinkles, a quiet huff slipping past my lips in agitation. Curling up tighter into myself, I snuggle deeper into the pillow. Waking up was the last thing I wanted to do, but a peculiar scent was drawing me out of the depths of my grief-stricken slumber. Reluctantly, I open my eyes. 

The room has considerably warmed since Merrick left. I pull the covers off of me and sit up, glancing around the room. All appears as it should be. Nothing is out of place, as far as I can tell. Though the fire has died down some, it glows red-orange in the hearth while the shoe box is still sitting in the center of my table.

I stand, gasping as I clutch at my chest. A thin wisp of grey smoke is drifting up from the newspaper. Did a coal from the fire somehow project out into the shoe box? Was the box perhaps too close to the fireplace and overheated while I slept? Whatever the reason, I need to douse the fire that is trying to catch before there is nothing left of Jung-

The newspaper ignites! 

Brilliant golden-yellow sparkles illuminate the room as if pyrotechnics have been set off. Wincing, I shield my eyes until the bright light extinguishes on its own. Panic fills me even as I try to tell myself that there was nothing I could have done. It happened so suddenly. But what was I going to say to the Dean? How could I face his parents now?

I blink several times, allowing my eyes to adjust to the dimness that now permeates the room. A frown creases my brow as I shift my attention to the table. There was something there: something that should not be, something that defied all logic.

“Jungkook?”

I can’t keep the quiver from my voice as the realization hits. Jungkook’s naked form is curled up in the fetal position on the very spot where the box of ashes had been. His skin is pale and glistening, his hair soaked and plastered to his scalp and forehead.

“Jungkook?” I call again as I approach on hesitant steps. 

I wonder if I imagine his toes twitch when he suddenly lets out a soft groan. He’s alive! How can this even be? I rush around to face him and watch as his eyes flutter open. Though his head shifts to look at me, his eyes roam around as if struggling to focus.

“Hurts,” he murmurs before his eyes close again.

“What does?”

“Everything.”

“I can’t imagine,” I say softly. I reach out to brush the hair from his forehead and find he’s feverishly warm. There is a clear, viscous substance that I can’t even pretend to know what it is that covers his entire body. “You can’t stay on this table, Jungkook. You can fall and hurt yourself. We really should get you in the shower. I have no clue what this stuff on you is.”

“Mmm,” comes his reply.

“Ok, up you go.”

Jungkook lets me pull him up, my grip tight on his biceps for fear that he would slip right out of my hands. His feet dangle over the edge, and I move the chair to make it less hazardous for him.

“Too hot,” he tells me, his voice husky. 

“Yes, you are,” I agree. “Hopefully, the shower will help. We’re almost there.”

“Everything’s blurry,” he swallows thickly. “What’s wrong with me?”

My heart rate quickens and my hands grow slick with perspiration. Does he really not remember? 

“Let’s take things one at a time, yeah?” I opt for a vague reply.

“Yeah,” he sighs, his brows drawing down.

I make a conscious effort to avert my gaze from his exposed form as he leans into me because the moment my mind truly realizes that Jungkook is in my room naked would be the moment my cheeks warm with the unmistakable flush of a schoolgirl's embarrassment.  Instead, I channel my focus into helping him through this traumatic situation—a scenario no one could possibly have foreseen or prepared for.

Once we’re in the bathroom, I get the water running to tepid before allowing him to step in. As his feet touch the lukewarm water, he sighs in relief. I help him sit in the tub, his long, muscled legs bending to accommodate their length. As the tub begins to fill, a hint of steam rises from his body, and I’m bewildered, not just at the phenomenon but all that has happened. Had I not seen it with my own eyes, I would never believe it.

“Is it too cold?” I ask.

“No. No, it feels really good.”

“I’ll be right back.”

In the dimly lit hallway, I patter over to the laundry room's lost and found bin, sifting through its contents until I lay my hands on a pair of sweatpants and basketball shorts, accompanied by a tank top and a hoody that I hope will fit. Even though Jungkook radiates heat now, I’m uncertain how the bath will affect his temperature. These findings promptly go into a speedy wash cycle, and I set a reminder alarm on my phone so as not to forget them.

Back in my room and now armed with a cup from my cabinet, I return to the bathroom. Gently, I pour water over Jungkook's head, massaging in the body wash and patiently working out the slimy residue. The rest of his body receives a thorough yet gentle scrub with a washcloth, which I then hand over to him to handle his private areas. Once I'm satisfied he's clean enough, I begin to drain the water while simultaneously turning on the showerhead to ensure all remnants of the slick fluid and body wash are thoroughly rinsed away.

Goosebumps spread across his flesh as I towel him dry. I’m as delicate as I can be as I pat the cloth over his skin, unsure if it’s sensitive after his… resurrection? I’m not even sure what to call it, but I treat him like a newborn baby experiencing sensations for the first time, just in case. My alarm rings in the room, and I hand him the towel.

“Here, you finish up, but be careful. I’ll be right back.”

I stop the alarm and rush out to the laundry room to move the wet clothes to the dryer. Once back in the room, I set another alarm. I find Jungkook swaying slightly on the bathroom mat as he shivers, the towel tied precariously at his hips. The bath water must have cooled him off too much.

“Cold,” he chatters, confirming my suspicions, and I offer him an apologetic smile.

“Let’s get you tucked in under the covers. I found you some clothes, but it will be a little bit before they are dry. Come on.”

I guide him to my bed and allow him a little privacy as he discards the towel and slides beneath the thick comforter. I busy myself bringing the dying fire back to life, hoping the warmth would quickly fill the room to regulate Jungkook’s temperature. I then move on to spraying down the table and chair, cleaning off any remnants left behind from the substance that had coated him, as well as the bits of ash from the incinerated shoe box and newspaper.

I frown at the black and umber scorch marks streaked across the wooden table. That’s going to require a bit more attention. Attention I’m not willing to give it right now. Sighing, I leave the items in the sink to be washed or put away later. I look over to find Jungkook’s eyes have been following me as I move about the room.

“Can you see now?�� I ask as I approach the bed with a smile.

“It’s getting clearer, but still a little fuzzy.”

I hum, adding, “That’s good. I think that means your eyesight will be back to normal soon.” 

He nods. “I think so, too.”

“Is there anything I can get you?”

“Water?”

“Yeah, sure. I can imagine coming back from the dead can be a bit dehydrating.”

Jungkook smirks sleepily at me as he sits up. I bring him back a bottle of water, and he chugs the entire thing down without taking a breath.

“Well damn.” I hand him another, but this one he drinks more slowly. The alarm startles me, and I laugh. “Your clothes. I’ll be right back.”

One last time, I head out into the empty hall to the laundry room. As I hug the warm clothes to me, I’m shocked to see the clock reading 3:05 in the morning. A ton had happened in such a short amount of time. Soon, the sun would rise, and we’d have to explain to the Dean and his parents that Jungkook hadn’t died after all.

I better leave the Dean a message.

Locking the door behind me, I set the clothes on the bed.

“Pick what you want to wear. I need to call the Dean,” I inform Jungkook. Giving him my back, I call the Dean’s office, reaching his voicemail as expected. “Hello, Dean. This is Y/N Y/LN. Before you speak with Jungkook’s parents, I need you to call me. This is very, very important.”

I also make sure to leave a message on his secretary's line as a precaution. Taking my phone off of 'Do Not Disturb' mode, I place it on the bedside table. When I turn around, I see Jungkook donned in cargo-style sweatpants and a grey hoody. The clothing, despite his well-defined physique, is extremely baggy on him, giving an air of vulnerability and childlike innocence to his appearance.

“My parents are going to freak out,” Jungkook nibbles his bottom lip anxiously.

“They are, but in a good way,” I assure him as I urge him back into bed. “You’re alive. That’s all that’s going to matter to them.”

“You’re right.”

“Get some rest,” I smile down at him. “You’re going to need your strength to get you through everything.”

I turn to walk away, but Jungkook’s hand shoots out to grab my wrist, halting me in place.

“Where are you going?” he queries, and his tone holds a hint of panic.

I pat his hand. “There’s a futon on the other side of the room,” I point out. “I’ll sleep there.”

“No,” he pleads, gently tugging me closer. “Please stay here. I…” he pauses as if searching for the right words to say. “Everything that happened is still hazy, and there’s this anxious feeling in my stomach. I can’t be by myself right now.”

I stare down into his doe-like eyes and how he nibbles his bottom lip, lending truth to his words. He needs comfort and reassurance that all is going to be okay, despite the severity of what has occurred. How could I deny him that?

“Ok,” I relent.

If anyone would have told me I would see my crush naked and that I would be lying in bed with him as well, I would have cackled at the absurdity of it. Jungkook and I had been good friends for some time now. Both of us being in our first year, we had many of the same courses and spent a substantial amount of time studying together, whether in the library tower on campus or at the nearby twenty-four hour diner, where we ate fries with strawberry banana milkshakes as we went over our notes. But it was never anything more than that. Last night was supposed to be the day I finally changed all that.

He pulls back the comforter to allow me to slide in. My full-size bed was definitely not made for two people, so we lay on our sides facing each other. I take note that he’s starting to get his color back.

“Thank you,” he whispers, and I smile. A few moments pass before he breaks the silence. “I don’t remember much, but I do remember you wanting to meet up before the dance. Was there something you needed?”

Of course he’d remember that. My lips tighten into a thin line as I fight the urge to smile. 

“Right,” I squeeze my eyes shut briefly. “It’s not important right now. Once everything settles down, then we’ll talk.”

“But everything is calm now,” he remarks.

I shake my head, “Sorry, it’s really not the right time anymore.” He frowns but doesn’t push further. Wanting to change the subject, I wonder aloud, “So, is this what it’s like to come into your power? I’m just a human, so I have no idea what it’s like.”

He toys with his lips as he ponders the question, “Honestly, up until now, I thought I was just human, too. It wasn’t like this for my brother; I was there when he discovered he had powers. I guess it’s different for everyone. I’m really not even sure what I am and what powers I’ve actually been given, if any.”

“The Dean will help you with that,” I point out, a yawn tugging from me on the last word.

Jungkook chuckles, “Let’s go to sleep.”

“Mhm,” I murmur affirmatively, the warmth from his body, the covers, and the fire drawing me down into sleepy land.

I faintly hear him whisper ‘sweet dreams’ before darkness claims me.

•• ━━━━━ ••🔥•• ━━━━━ ••

Music wiggles its way into my dreams, trying to coax me fully awake. My disgruntled hmphs and whines are mixed in with a more masculine one, and my eyes open immediately. 

What is happening?!

My head is lying on Jungkook’s chest, my hand casually on his abdomen. His arm cradles my shoulders while the other hand rests loosely on the arm that’s on his torso. My bare thigh is sandwiched between his legs, my nightgown having risen up high up around my hips, and this all seems way too intimate that my cheeks begin to burn.

I sense the exact moment he realizes I'm awake, his heart rate quickening beneath my ear. With an awkward throat clearing, I gently disengage myself from him. As I rise to my feet, I swiftly snatch up my phone and activate the speaker.

“Good morning, Dean,” I greet with as calm a voice as I can muster.

“Y/N,” the Dean’s voice is sympathetic as he says my name. “I received your message. What is so urgent?”

“Hello, Dean,” Jungkook calls from beside me.

There is just a moment’s pause before the Dean’s stunned voice hesitantly asks, “Jungkook?”

“That’s right,” he replies.

“Jeon Jungkook?” the Dean questions again.

“I know,” Jungkook chuckles. “I can hardly believe it myself.”

“I need you to come to my office immediately,” he orders, flustered at the miracle. “And you need to be as discreet as possible.”

“Yes, Dean.”

“And come alone!” the Dean insists.

Jungkook’s eyes meet mine as he replies, “Ok. I will be.”

With that, he hangs up.

“It’s ok,” I assure him. “I need more sleep anyway.”

He stands, taking my hand in his. He brushes a kiss onto the knuckles. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Of course,” I scoff, my cheeks burning scarlet. “You don’t even need to say thank you.”

“But I do,” he insists.

“You’re welcome, then,” I offer a small smile. “By the door, there are a pair of slides. Go ahead and take those.”

“You’re the best. I won’t ever forget what you’ve done for me.”

With that, he steps into the black slides. Jungkook gives me a small wave before exiting the room.

•• ━━━━━ ••🔥•• ━━━━━ ••

I hope you enjoyed Part 2. Please look forward to Part 2. Coming soon. Feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you think.

Part 1| Part 2| Part 3

•• ━━━━━ ••🔥•• ━━━━━ ••

Moodboard by me

Image credits

Smoke

Fire

Jungkook 1 and 2

Flame in hand

Fire and Sparks