#I'm sure the regular person wouldn't do that nearly as often as I want it to be in stories like this but I DO NOT CARE

[dan-crimes]

I have such an infatuation with characters whom haunt the narrative, it's even better when the character is still technically there but nobody knows

[amarayys]

DRDT CHP 2 EPISODE 15 REACTIONS - SO OBVIOUSLY SPOILERS

disclaimer - this post is quite long. like 12 doc pages long. so yeah

in this post, i predicted that the culprit would be ace. and, well....yeah! IT WAS!!! AND I FEEL REALLY GOOD ABOUT THAT!!!! AND IM REALLY HOPING THAT THE FACT THAT AREI'S MISSING GLOVE AND THE MISSING SCRUM DEBATE DONT MEAN ANYTHING!!!

....i got it right.

I ACTUALLY GOT IT RIGHT??? NO FUCKING WAY???

Anyway, I'm gonna make a short post (post editing amari here - this post is in no way short. why did i think it would be???) of my reactions to the episode. And trust me, there were reactions.

Ace: You're going to call me the murderer just because Eden said so?! That's so inane I don't even know where to start!

...I feel ashamed to admit I had to google what "inane" means. Basically, it means "Lacking sense or meaning," which, true, actually! I can't deny suspecting Ace JUST because of Eden's crying is a little weird. Not to say that Eden is malicious or something, though.

J: I'm not saying Eden did it, but are you sure the killer is Ace?

This line isn't insanely relevant or something, I just wanted to point out that I was pretty confused here. Why is J defending Ace??? Uh???

Eden: It was him! (Ace) He was the one stalking me!

Aha, I thought so! I've seen a few people theorise that the person "stalking" Eden was the culprit, and I agree. It just makes the most sense - so I'm glad we were right!

Teruko: Could it be that Ace switched targets from Eden to Arei? (paraphrased)

Oh, I didn't even consider that! We see later in the trial this isn't true, but I'm surprised that nobody (to my knowledge) brought this theory up. Though I don't really see why he would switch targets.

Ace: S-so?! Nico could have taken it or lied about the fish disappearing. (paraphrased)

100% True! But Ace seems to be using this argument solely to accuse Nico...which he sure does a lot. While screaming. A lot.

*discussion about ace making a murder plan after nearly being murdered*

Teruko makes a good point here - He could have made the plan the day following his near-murder.

Teruko: Most people wouldn't like going back to the scene of their almost-murder. (paraphrased)

...Teruko, you're projecting. Hard. Like, really hard.

Ace: ...

Ace: Y-yeah! Exactly! There's no reason for me to take the tape unless I made a plan to kill her in a few seconds. (paraphrased)

Hesitation spotted! And a stutter! I freaked out over this on call for no reason, but that is VERY suspicious, dude.

Arturo: Who uses non-medical tape for first aid? That's sickening.

Teruko: It's not that weird, I do it all the time.

...AUWVGGHHHHH. Teruko you make me ILL. This is probably referencing how she didn't have money for medical supplies in the regular world so she had to use regular tape for wounds, since her luck hurts her often, which cannot be good/safe for injuries. I nearly cried here, because I'm very dramatic when it comes to Teruko. YOU DESERVE BETTER.

Ace: What is this, some sort of Devil's Pubes?

...What the fuck?? What??? I am not kidding when I tell you I was drinking water during this line and fucking choked. WHAT DOES THIS MEAN??? HELLO?? CAN SOMEBODY TELL ME WHAT HE MEANT??

Ace: Everyone is always attacking me for stupid reasons. (paraphrased)

He's not wrong, actually. Everyone is always attacking him - Though not always for stupid reasons.

Ace: Do you even hear yourself right now? I'm a murderer because of my "personality"?!

I've got to agree with him here - that's a pretty stupid argument to make. As much as I don't want to slander Min, did her personality seem like the type to murder?

Teruko: Show me your neck scars.

...That's a little invasive, no?

*discussion about scratched neck*

I also believe some people pointed out Ace's bloody fingers, but I haven't seen anyone mention scratches on his neck! To be fair, that is a VERY small detail that's quite easy to miss.

Teruko: But you probably never forgot. After all, you have to live with your scars every day. Even if you've been pretending it's fine, it still hurts, right? (paraphrased)

...Ohmygod she's projecting again. Is she insecure about her scars?? Or do they just remind her of bad situations? Teruko, I love you so so much you make me SOB.

Ace: I thought I was supposed to be the stupidest one here! What the fuck is this?!

...He just called himself stupid. He is NOT beating the idiot allegations.

the whole veronika spiel**

Well, yeah, I'd imagine being almost murdered is somewhat traumatising.

turpentine, jockey and strangling arguements:

This post is going to get VERY long soon, so sorry for the massive skip lmao.

Turpentine: Correct - How would have Ace kept Arei unharmed apart from her neck wounds without her being unconscious due to turpentine? I really don't have any clue.

Strangling: Strangling her?? I didn't see THAT coming. But yeah, I suppose it works. I really don't have much to say here, tbh.

Jockey: Basically, Ace is stronger than Eden and can therefore knock her out. True, I suppose, but it's a shaky argument based off assumptions.

Charles: Ace was trying to imitate Nico's murder.

I can see this being the case - Ace using that to frame Nico. Ace HAS been blaming Nico quite a bit, huh?

Ace's injury argument*

Good points made by both Eden (for some reason??) and Teruko. Yes, Ace was bleeding out and in a lot of pain, but the wound was not severe enough to limit either his speech or his movement. The murder might have hurt, but he'd be able to do it.

J: Isn't Ace...too stupid?

I burst out laughing...that's quite direct, J! But also mean. Ace is literally right there. Also, that is not a proper argument!

Ace's whole dignity thing*

Jeez, I used to despise Ace, but I'm liking him more and more. He has some really funny lines, and his development is REALLY good.

I think it's super interesting that ACE, who everyone believes is dumb and rude and unable to take criticism, is letting himself be called stupid for the sake of being declared innocent. It really shows how his character is more than just "I'm rude and I hate you all!" DRDTDev, your writing is so good.

Charles' explanation*

Now, I'm split on this part.

For one, I agree that his IQ would not have much to do with how Ace carried out the murder and is irrelevant. However, the whole argument of "Ace rides horses, he is strong!" thing isn't really accurate - in chapter 1, he describes how he never actually practices jockeying.

**also, the acevi fans are in pain. i see you looking at how levi said ace wasnt dumb. I SEE YOU

Non-stop debate with ball of clothes as bullet*

I was WONDERING WHEN THE CLOTHES WOULD COME IN!! Again, I'm not original, so I've seen theories regarding the ball being thrown over the railing. But...the railings pretty high. I don't think you could just throw it.

Bullet is used*

Oh, so Teruko is using the "ball of clothes was thrown" argument? It still seems very high up..

Ace: How could I have thrown it up that high?

Aha, so they are addressing that issue! I'm glad.

Ace tangent*

Again, I'm sorry for having to reduce this AMAZING character development down to a "tangent", but this post is already WAYYY too long.

He definitely has a point, though. Just because he's a jockey doesn't automatically make him the murderer. Just because he's somewhat athletic doesn't mean he could've thrown the ball of clothes.

And, as much as I REALLY don't want to admit this...Teruko's reasoning for siding with Eden was a little shaky. At first, Teruko believed Eden because Eden believed her in the first trial. Adorable, yes, but you could argue that was unfair towards Ace. However, there is definitely concrete evidence against Ace at this point and Teruko is valid for siding with Eden at this point in the trial.

Not to say I don't understand why Teruko sided with her - I totally understand. And she did say she'd keep an open mind. I still love how this was all done - Teruko siding with Eden was a nice touch.

Argument Armament or however the fuck its spelt.*

Wait what?? I DID NOT SEE THAT COMING\??? that AA came out of absolutely nowhere but i am here for it! The art is fantastic as always - i especially love the horse!

Final blow; using a sling shot*

...I'm sorry? What??

OH! THE FITNESS BAND!

I knew it must've come in somewhere! This trial has been so satisfying so far...God I love this fangan.

So, Ace tied the fitness band around the...bar things in the playgroud and flung the ball of clothes up. ...I still don't really get it, but it's definitely better than just yanking it up there!

Teruko, interrupting Ace: SHUT UP, ACE!

...eh? EH??? TERUKO??

Teruko: Do you even understand what this class trial is? Tell me, how do we decide who's the murderer? We determine who lives and dies by a majority vote. YTTD REF?? In other words, the opinion of everyone who *isn't* you.

I...woah. I didn't see that coming. Like, at all. Let's see what else she has to say.

Teruko: Who cares where you stored the water jugs? That doesn't matter. (paraphrased)

Um...I'm pretty sure it matters, Teruko. Though I can see where she's coming from - she wants this trial over with and she thinks discussing minor details is a waste of time.

This line makes you seem like the culprit, but she has protag privileges, so yeah. Just Teruko going off again.

Teruko: The point of the trial is to determine who the killer is, not to determine every single little detail of what happened.

Aha, so I'm correct. She doesn't want to discuss "minor details".

Teruko: It doesn't matter that you're not convinced. It's not going to help you, nor change your fate. No matter how you feel or what you think, nothing will change.

You think that your whining and screaming is going to change our minds? That if you call us all stupid and wrong, we're going to magically decide to not vote for you out of the goodwill of our hearts?

...Okay, so. I think she's projecting here. Again. She knows that screaming wont do anything for him - It never did anything for her. She knows that people vote stop deciding the culprit's you out of the goodwill of her heart - They didn't do that for her.

Maybe I'm reaching, who knows.

Teruko: Come on Ace! Don't you want to live?! Defend yourself!

Oh, she's desperate. She really wants to be wrong here, huh? She doesn't really want him to be a culprit.

Ace: I'm such a piece of shit.

...is that a confession?? IS IT??

Ace: Yeah, you're right. There's no way I'm making it out this trial alive.

Okay this could still be interpreted as him just giving up on trying to find the actual culprit but-

Ace: I killed Arei. That's exactly right.

....OH. I...WHAT??

That...wow. I don't even know what to say! Before this point in the trial, I was kind of suspicious he was an accomplice, but hey...that's a confession for sure!

Ace: I was scared of dying. That's all.

Yeah, I've definitely seen a theory on that somewhere. And it fits his character - But jeez. I'm gonna be sad to see him go.

Ace: I'm fucking terrified of dying! I can't sleep at night because I keep thinking about how I'm going to die young in this goddamn killing game! I didn't want to die!

Ace: Live, and escape this killing game, and go back to my shitty life where I can't do anything on my own because I can't control myself.

Ace: Back to that life where I can't do anything but a sport that I hate because I suck shit at everything else.

Wow, it sounds like he really didn't think he had any way of enjoying life, whether in the killing game or not. I feel so bad...We knew from Chp. 1 that he was quite the scaredy-cat, but to make that a motive into killing? Like...I'm not sure what to say. /pos The character development is SO good though I am HERE FOR THIS!!

J: So what? Get over yourself.

...J?

J: Murder is unacceptable, no matter what.

Oh! I see what's happening! This is a super interesting way for a character to think. This makes me think that sometime later on, a murder will be done on accident in some way, (maybe by herself - THAT would be a twist for sure) but she still refuses to forgive the culprit. I really love J getting character development!

Ace: Arei…she was a piece of shit too. Just like me. Eden if she said all that nice bs to Eden, there was no guarantee she was actually going to change. (paraphrased)

…Ow. “Piece of shit” really is becoming the new “Good person”, huh? /hj

And, I suppose Ace is right in that there wasn’t any way to tell if Arei  *was* going to change for certain - But I think she was genuine!

Ace: But at least she (arei) was trying. And I can’t change even one thing about myself. Not my shitty job, nor my shitty personality, nor my shitty life.

OH OKAY OUCH AUGH. This…is painful. Here’s my (not very good) interpretation of this:

Ace doesn’t trust that people will be able to change. Sure, there’s a chance - but no guarantee. However, he applauds Arei because at least she was trying to be better. He thinks it’s pointless for him to try to be better - everything bad in his life, he cannot change. And that scared him, and that is what led him to murder.

“...” said by Levi and Nico*

Wow, going to the two people who have the most to do with his character right after he says that is crazy. /lh 

But yeah, I can’t even imagine what was going through their heads… The person who reprimanded them for killing others (and in Nico’s case - trying to kill him) actually ended up being the killer of Arei - and intended to kill everyone in order to escape the killing game. It sure must be a lot to process, huh?

Ace: Just vote me already! Put me out of my damn misery!

…Damn. This really hurts… 

He’s obviously terrified of dying. He probably wants it over with. He doesn’t want to wait in anticipation for his death. He just wants it over with…I feel SO bad.

Teruko: Before we do that, allow me to go over the case one more time, to confirm we all understand this murder.

Ace: Why? Why do you have to remind me of the fucked-up shit I did? I already feel like crap. I don't... I don't want to think about what I've done. Not now, nor ever.

Ah, so there’s also guilt involved. I mean, of course he’d feel guilt - but he probably felt killing Arei and escaping the killing game was his only option, excluding death.

Teruko: …

Teruko: Sorry, but it has to be done.

AGH. Teruko feels bad for having to make him relive his murder…dangit this cast makes me ILL /pos

Teruko: Confront the mistakes you've made. Then accept death. That's the fate of everyone who chooses to participate in this killing game.

I meannn…she isn’t wrong. But I still feel horrible for Ace.

**Closing argument**

Oh cool!!! Here we go - I can’t wait!

GIRLKISSERS!!! oh, and ace ig. /j

This is probably my favourite cg from the closing argument. It’s just….Idk. Arei’s expression is sort of funny to me.

The way Arei’s hanging body appeared in the middle and lifted up slowly…that was disturbing. But in a really, really good way. DRDTdev is super creative with these closing arguments!

Cut her free…with what, exactly??

Also, Teruko calling the carousel a spinner is hilarious to me. Not even a spinny thing anymore - just a spinner.

I burst out laughing at this cg…because I DIDN’T EXPECT HIM TO BE UPSIDE DOWN??? I giggled a lot at this, it’s really not that funny - but I didn’t expect him to go full monkey style in order to tie the rope.

And…there it is. Sorry folks, but I really doubt Ace isn’t killer after getting the “trial close” screen and the…end of closing argument cg??? Thing??? I have no clue what it’s called. 

Wow, this episode was a rollercoaster ride. I love love love love LOVED it. I can’t wait for the next one!

Before this episode, I really didn’t like Ace. At all. I just found him annoying. But DRDTdev did his character arc SO well - he’s really grown on me! Now time to see him get executed…oh.

Also, I realise I forgot to comment on the new cgs,,, whoops. They’re all super good though - I LOVED Teruko’s.

Anyway, I think that’s all….this took SO incredibly long lol. I don't really know what to say in order to end this post. So. Yeah.

[sailorstar9]

When Dealing With An Unreasonable Contractor...

F/N was the third generation of a sweets shop; the Raku-ame was once a Japanese-style sweets shop under her grandfather. However, after F/N's father graduated from the famous culinary institute in Portland, the Raku-ame became a store that made both Japanese and Western-style confectionery. The shop had many regular customers because it offered original branding and full-order packaging.

“I want 20 boxes of doriyaki with our logo.” a long-time customer placed their order.

“I want 30 boxes of assorted Western sweets for year-end gifts.” a middle-aged housewife ordered.

“Thank you very much for your patronage.” F/N bade the customers farewell after each sale.

The business was thriving, with orders constantly coming in.

As the third heir to Raku-ame, F/N was put in charge of the storefront; the clients loved her as a surrogate granddaughter.

But, there was one company that was a pain: Wide Wedding. It's the largest wedding hall in the prefecture, taking orders for wedding cakes and sweets, as well as pastries that were served at the cafe nearly every day. The Raku-ame was also asked to make sweets to serve at the dessert buffet during the reception.

F/N had known Wide Wedding since her father's generation; the person-in-charge in the beginning was mild-mannered and soft-spoken, generally a good person who took Raku-ame's convenience into consideration. But, after the predecessor retired, things started to go wrong. Ikeda, who was newly put in charge, was a man who looked down on the Raku-ame workers, calling them 'subcontractors'. Ikeda, who was the son of the director, had been acting arrogantly and F/N and her father father did not have a good impression on him. Since Ikeda was put in charge of business dealings, it made things difficult as he would often demand a lot of unreasonable things.

“I received an order to put an original branding on a drawstring.” Ikeda slammed a piece of paper with a design on it onto the Raku-ame's front counter. “Use this design.”

“This is for next next week's wedding, right?” F/N gave the wall calendar a quick glance. “It might be a little difficult...”

“You're a subcontractor and you're talking back?” Ikeda fumed.

“We'd need a special mould for the branding and it'll take at least a week for that specific mould to be made by a craftsman.” F/N argued.

“Then, why don't you just get on with it?” Ikeda fired back. “I asked you to do it, now you guys adjust it and make it work. Don't think just because you're cute I'd cut you any slack. I should warn you, my client is a well-known blogger. So, if you offend them, you'd never know what they might write on their blogs. My company's creditability is at stake. Make sure you brand it with this design. If you don't do as you're told, I'll cancel the contract. If we cut you off, it would be a huge blow to your business, wouldn't it? Then do it.”

Left with no choice, F/N's father had to ask the craftsman to make the mould on a super-express basis, managing to the delivery date.

After that, Ikeda continued to impose even more reckless demands.

“I'm going to ask for additional gifts.” Ikeda returned to Raku-ame once again.

“How many?” F/N asked, taking out a notepad.

“A hundred.” Ikeda replied. “They said they wanted to distribute them to clients who will not be attending. Get on with it.”

“When is the delivery date?” F/N asked.

“It's a weekend wedding, so two days.” Ikeda answered. “If you refuse, I'll ask another sweet shop to do it for me. I won't use your place from now on, if you're okay with it...”

“I understand.” F/N sighed. “We will make it on time.”

F/N's father and the other employees were angry, but knew that if they lost the contract with Wide Wedding,their sales will drop dramatically. So, they persevered and worked overtime and managed to meet the delivery deadline.

“If you can do it, don't say it's impossible from the beginning.” Ikeda scoffed at the delivery person.

After that, Ikeda kept asking for a change of the wedding cake's design at no additional costs, saying 'The customer's request has changed'. He even started to interfere with the ingredients, insisting 'Keep the price the same, but use better ingredients'.

As expected, F/N and her father were running out of patience; no matter how big the client was, there were boundaries that must be kept. After a family meeting, it was decided that they should renegotiate their contract with Wide Weddings.

“The weekend gifts; they were all cancelled.” Ikeda informed one day before the wedding, shrugging. “A client had a falling out. The wedding was cancelled.”

“We've already finished the products and there's only the wrapping left.” F/N protested. “If you cancel at this point, we'll have to charge you a cancellation fee.”

“Who cares about that?” Ikeda snorted. “I'm also in a rush because of a sudden cancellation, so don't bother me anymore.”

“That's not going to happen.” F/N stood her ground. “The cancellation fee is written in the contract. You get the cancellation fee from the customer. You can at least pay us the cancellation fee from there.”

“Shut up.” Ikeda barked. “I'm on the edge of my seat because of a disgusting customer. I've placed many orders from you. Stop making a big deal out of one cancellation. If you keep talking back to me, all future transactions are off the table. Now cancel the order.”

“I understand.” F/N gave Ikeda a calm smile. “If you insist that much, we have no choice. We cannot do business with anyone who does not pay the cancellation fee. We will not do any business with you in the future.”

“Do you know what you are saying?” Ikeda was puzzled. “If that's what you want, fine. I'll report your rudeness to my superiors and all business with you is off the table. You're going to pay for this. It's too late for regrets.” he spat out and left.

F/N knew Ikeda probably blew the whistle to either his boss or his father, saying that Raku-ame was to blame for everything. That month ended Raku-ame's contract with Wide Wedding and the reason F/N and her family wasn't panicking was because...

“You look stressed.” Chigiri entered the Raku-ame, bringing the Blue Lock contenders along with him.

“Hyoma...” F/N blinked at the redhead's surprise visit.

“Ikeda giving you trouble?” Chigiri guessed.

“What was your first clue?” F/N sighed.

“Take a break.” Chigiri planted a quick kiss on F/N's fringe. “I'll take over from here.”

“Say, F/N.” Mikage Reo addressed the Raku-ame heiress after everyone's purchases were packaged. “Chigiri mentioned your shop is the most reputable, long-established sweets shop in Kagoshima and the Mikage Corporation is looking to expand into Kagoshima. We intend to build a wedding hall here, therefore we're making the first move and inviting you as a full-time staff member.”

“Let me call my father out.” F/N retreated back and got her father out.

And with that, Reo made his pitch to F/N's father, with F/N's father handling the final contract signing weeks later.

[monsterswithimagines]

Undisclosed Desires - Part 6

Joe Goldberg x female!Reader

Summary: Twenty minutes before he would have met Guinevere Beck, Joe meets you instead. You intruige him, but it will soon become clear that there is something off about you.

Words: 845

Masterlist

Saturday can't come soon enough. I feel like this week has lasted an entire year.

Then it's finally Saturday morning. I'm happy to go to work today, because at the end of the morning shift, you'll be waiting for me. My reward for my work. You won't even mind that I won't have time to change out of my usual clothes - it's a deliberate choice on my end, because you like how I look. You told Nadia about it on Twitter just three days ago.

@MoonShadow_: waarom zijn jongens in boekwinkels altijd zo lekker 😭😭

Which translates to: why are boys in bookstores always so hot

I didn’t realize you were thinking this way, (Y/n). If I'd known, maybe I would have made a move already.

Candace wasn't nearly this hard to read.

Candace wouldn't have been worth all this waiting, though.

I'm not ashamed to admit that Candace was a wrong choice. I thought I saw something in her that wanted to be known by me, to be taken care of, but I was wrong. You, on the other hand, are unknown to almost everyone except your dear childhood friend. It must be so lonely. But when you're with me, you won't have to be alone anymore.

Ethan notices I'm distracted today, but he doesn't say anything about it. He's happy to take over the regular customer service duties if it means I'll run up and down the basement stairs carrying heavy books from eight to twelve. Ethan is the kind of guy who swears by a Kindle.

You'd never use a Kindle, would you? I can't imagine it. You buy books way too often to bother about something as asinine as digital reading.

Maybe if I tell you the Kindle is everything that's wrong with modern-day America, you'll laugh and agree with me. But then again, maybe you'll just think I'm a ‘gatekeeping dick’. That's what you called someone on Twitter when they said The Secret History was awful and that only insufferable, snobbish, self-absorbed, classist rich kids would ever think to read this shit. Don't kill me, (Y/n), but I kind of agree with the guy. One day you'll see my side.

I kind of agree with you too, though: the world needs to learn how to read again, it doesn't matter where they start.

I used to judge people for what they bought at Mooney's, but now I don’t anymore. At least they're reading. You're making me a better person that way. You're making me realize that even if people are just reading whatever bullshit they saw on TikTok, at least they're reading.

It's one pm, and you're late. I'm not too upset about it, though. You texted me about an hour ago.

YOU: omigod joe!!!

YOU: my boss is super pissed i forgot to send a client this important email

YOU: i gotta fix my mistake i might be like

YOU: 15 mins late

ME: Don't worry. Take your time.

YOU: 😅

I didn't reply to your smiley. What on earth am I meant to say to a picture of a smiling face? Besides, a smiley isn't worth nearly as much as your actual smile.

And there you are.

Only ten minutes late. It could have been worse.

You look flushed like maybe you ran here, and your hair is a mess so you've covered it with a beanie again, but you also look so happy to see me. I'm happy to see you, too.

You hug me.

“I'm so sorry,” you say. I'm not sure what you're apologising for, because I'm still trying to get over the fact that you hugged me. “I've had such a crazy morning.”

“You're not even that late,” I assure you, which is true. Candace used to be hours late, sometimes. Sometimes she didn't show up at all. “Do you mind giving me a minute? I want to wash my hands and stuff.”

I don't need a minute. I've been ready to leave for a while now. But I think you might need some time, and I can tell you won't ask for it.

“Yeah, yeah,” you say. “No problem.”

So I turn and I head to the bathroom. This means leaving you alone with Ethan, which may be risky. Ethan might say something stupid, or something about me. But then again, I don't think he'd ruin ‘getting some tail’ for me.

In the bathroom, I wash my hands and check my hair. I look how I always do after a shift at Mooney's, but I think that's fine.

You look beautiful, (Y/n). It's too soon to tell you something like that, but you do.

I emerge. You look calmer now. You're waiting in the office - Ethan must have let you in - sitting with your hands behind your head and your feet on the table. Stretched like that, I can see a bit of the skin above your jean shorts.

It's deliberate. You're taunting me.

“Hey,” you say. “All ready?”

You're wearing make-up. You don't usually wear make-up.

“All ready,” I agree.

[ultrabrokengirlposts]

and then you showed up.

pairing: miguel o'hara x spider-person!reader (intended to be afab, but there's no description of the reader :3)

summary: your getting used to working with the spider society, until you find out something miguel has been keeping from you.

warnings: more angst, mention of character death but no description, miguel being his normal self, feels, no use of y/n

word count: 756

note: well, it's the long awaited part two! only three people asked for this, but i've had part of this written for awhile. enjoy!

since joining the spider society, life had been great for you. it helped take your mind off of life, helped you put your energy into something good. 

you, of course, knew about miguel’s mission: protect the canon. you only ever saw him when he sent you on missions and during mission reports, which helped your grief. you were still getting used to him being another version of your late fiance. 

even though a year had passed since you joined, it hadn’t gotten any easier seeing him. but you had made plenty of other friends. jess was one of the people you were closest to. she gave great advice, for missions and regular life. like an older sister. but there were times she said things you were sure had been meant to stay secret.

“you know, miguel was the one who chose you. i didn’t have to beg him to recruit you,” she said as she took a sip of her water. the both of you were relaxing in the cafeteria.

“really?” you weren’t sure why, but that surprised you. he often acted like you were a nuisance. 

jess shrugged. “yeah, i guess he felt bad about what happened with your fiance. canon event aside.”

you paused, your brows furrowing. “wait, what do you mean?” but you didn’t need her to answer. you had a feeling you understood well enough what she meant. you excused yourself and quickly made your way out of the cafeteria.

—

"you knew?!"

"have fun dealing with that," lyla told him as you stormed into his office, blipping out of sight. miguel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose but didn't turn to face you.

"i'm busy. can we please deal with whatever you're upset about at a later time?" 

but you didn't leave. you didn't turn, grumbling about how he was always busy, always working. you used your webs to catapult yourself up to his platform desk and shoved him.

"hey, what the-"

"you knew he was going to die and you didn't do anything to stop it?" you were seeing red, not just because of the lighting in his office. you were angry, livid. and despite the fact that miguel looked like your late fiancé, you wanted to hurt him.

miguel turned to face you but you didn't cower, didn't back down. even though he looked terrifying. "it was a canon event, i couldn't interfere." he said it with such little emotion, such a stoic face, that it pissed you off even more.

"canon ev-" you cut yourself off, letting out a laugh of disbelief. "he was you! the love of my life that i watched die with my own eyes. in my arms." you had started poking his chest with every word. "all because of your stupid fucking mission to keep the multiverse safe?"

"it was one person over bill-"

you let out another laugh, taking a step back as you put your hands on either side of your temple. "oh, fuck you, miguel. you don't care about anyone but yourself and your fucked up mission." you wanted to hit something, you wanted to hit him.

so you lunged for him. he stepped to the side and you nearly face planted into the console table. you turned, ready to punch him and he caught your wrist.

"fighting me won't bring him back. he wouldn't want you to be angry, he was fine with the way he went."

"don't talk about him like you know him! he would've wanted to live. to get married, have a kid." you fought against him, trying to get yourself out of his grasp. "grow old with someone he loved. you don't-" when had you started crying? your struggling slowed to a stop as you hung your head, your shoulders shaking slightly from your sobs. "you don't get it. the wedding was two months away. i lost everything."

he dropped your hand and you took a step back, wiping the tears off your face. "and then you showed up and i thought-"

"in another life, maybe." your gaze shot up at his murmur and you took a few stumbled steps back. the realization hit you. not only did he know, he watched. he watched the fight against the vulture. he watched you finding him. he watched your heartbreak and your anger. he watched everything. and he didn't tell you.

"you. . . i can't do this." you had to leave before you broke entirely. you turned, using your webbing to drop yourself from the platform.

and you left.

[minty-mumbles]

Heyo hope you’re having a wonderful weekend!! I was just wondering if you would be able to share some hc’s of how Wind discovered the others weren’t normal humans in your monster au? (Not sure if you’ve answered this already or not so sorry if you have!) no pressure! I love this au!! 💜

I have made a post about this before, but you inspired me to do a little bit of writing for this AU again! Sorry it took so long to answer your ask

The first section is set a few weeks after Wind met Time. (He was given a concussion and nearly mugged, but Time saved him and carried him home.)

(Read on AO3 here)

~~~

"I didn't expect to see you here, Wind."

Wind turned to look at the person addressing him, expecting to find one of his grandma's friends or someone like that. He mentally prepared himself for the ordeal of having to sit through someone making small talk and trying to pinch his cheeks. He silently cursed himself for choosing to sit in a cafe after school instead of going straight home. (He just couldn’t help himself. The Red Lion Cafe had the best coffee in town.)

Instead of his grandma’s friends, he found the familiar figure of the God who had saved him two weeks ago. Time, Granny had said his name was. 

"Uhhh," Wind said, trying to calm his racing heart. It wasn't often you were directly addressed by a God, after all. "Hi?"

Time's lips twitched as if he were hiding a smile. "I'm glad to see you again. I was worried about you after the other night. No lasting problems, I assume?"

"Uh, no." Wind agreed. "The doctor said the concussion wasn't that bad." 

The "doctor" had actually been Granny, who’d scanned him using some medical runes. (The kind she still wouldn't allow Wind to study, saying they were too advanced for him.) She’d said he'd be fine. He didn't need to tell Time that though. Better to let the man think he'd gone to an actual medical professional.

"That's good." Time gave him a satisfied look before he turned and gestured behind him. For the first time, Wind noticed a kid hovering nearby, who’d been partially hidden behind the bulk of Time’s frame.

They had cropped blond hair that almost reached their shoulders and gray eyes that were startlingly intelligent. They wore a multicolored oversized hoodie and a pair of black tights, and their hair was pushed out of their face with a green headband.

"This is Four.” Time introduced. ”They and their grandfather live in my- They're my tenants." Wind picked up on Time's swift self-correction, wondering what that was about. Four and their grandfather live in Time's- What? 

What would make a God correct himself? Wind tucked that question into the back of his head, and refocused on Four. They smiled at Wind and offered a soft wave in his direction. "Nice to meet you. I've heard only good things."

Wind snorted. "You mean you've heard how I got a concussion from a pair of muggers in an alleyway." Four shrugged, not denying it. 

Wind took a moment to let his senses explore the magic hanging in the air around him. As a Psychic, he was able to sense and manipulate the universe’s natural magic. And that meant that Wind was able to see people’s natural auras. No matter what kind of magic someone used to hide their form, a Psychic was always able to see through it by sensing their true self. 

Pointedly not looking in Time’s direction, as they didn’t want to be overwhelmed by the God’s strong aura, Wind carefully inspected Four’s aura.

Four’s aura made the taste of smoke fill Wind's mouth, and they fought down the automatic cough in response to the flavor. If they hadn’t already known Four wasn’t Hylian, that would have confirmed it. Every Psychic that was old enough to sense auras was taught how to recognize shapeshifting and glamor magic. The smoke was a dead giveaway. Four was using some sort of shapeshifting magic to hide their true form. 

Underneath the smoke, Four’s aura was smaller, somehow, than a regular Hyian’s. Not less powerful- no, quite the opposite- but it seemed to take up less room than a Hylian aura would. Streaks of red, blue, green, and purple magic danced behind Wind’s eyelids when he blinked at Four.

Wind… had no idea what they were. It was obvious they were not Hylian. (Not that Wind had expected them to be, considering they were hanging around a God.) But he had no clue what they could be otherwise. He’d never seen a magical signature like Four’s before.

Yeah... okay. Wind mentally shrugged. It wasn't like he had any room to talk. He wasn't being honest about the fact that he wasn’t Hylian, either.

Wind blinked, shaking himself out of his thoughts. "Well, It's nice to meet you anyways, Four! Do you go to Castle Town High School? That's where I go."

Four flushed a bit, looking slightly embarrassed. "Ah," they said, not meeting Wind's eyes. "I actually did online school. I graduated early and took an apprenticeship at the local blacksmiths."

As the two talked to each other, Time- who seemed pleased that the two were getting to know each other- wandered away toward the counter to order himself a drink. Four took the opportunity to pull out the chair on the other side of the small table WInd was sitting at.

"Are you still working on that, then? Are you apprenticed at Rohan’s Forge?" Wind didn't know very much about Rohan, the old Goron who ran the local forge. But he did know that Rohan was a strict teacher who very rarely took on apprentices. 

Four looked even more embarrassed, his ears flicking as he wouldn’t meet Wind’s eyes. "Um, I already finished my apprenticeship." 

Wind's jaw dropped. He would almost say it was unbelievable, to get a mastery in a craft before you’re twenty. But Wind had no idea how old Four truly was, so he couldn't say it was out of the question. 

Four’s aura was similar to a sixteen year old Hylian’s in terms of maturity, but Wind doubted Four was actually sixteen. They were probably the equivalent age for their species, but that could be hundreds of years old. Chances were they’d been alive for far longer than Wind. Ample time to get a mastery in the craft of their choosing.

Wind also noted that Four had carefully avoided saying where they’d been apprenticed.

Oh, well, he could play along. "Really? That's so cool! You must be really good at smithing then, to get a mastery so young!"

Wind left the cafe that day with Four's number in his contacts, and a promise to text each other later. Wind didn't even care if Time had orchestrated the meeting or not. Four seemed like a chill dude, even if Wind didn't know what kind of creature they were. 

~~~

Wind had become a bit of a regular at the Red Lion cafe since the day Time had introduced him to Four. The two of them had made it a habit of hanging out there after Wind got out of school, and they met up almost weekly. 

It looked like Wind got to the cafe first today, which was a bit unusual. Four was almost always the first one here. He got his coffee and claimed their usual table, a little one tucked away into the corner. Settling in to wait, Wind pulled out his physics homework. He sighed.

Wind hated physics. There was too much math involved for what was supposed to be a science class. 

After a while- long enough that he was starting to worry Four wasn’t going to show up at all- Wind was shaken out of his concentration by a commotion up the cafe’s counter. Pulling his eyes away from the problem he was trying to solve, Wind took a glance at the yelling.

There was a man leaning over the counter and shouting at the barista, his face beet red with anger. 

Wind frowned. He knew that barista. Not by name, but she was often the one who took Wind’s order, and she’d never been anything but polite. Wind doubted she’d actually done anything wrong to deserve the man’s anger.

It seemed Wind was right, as he listened for a few more moments. The man was only angry because the barista had given him an iced coffee, and not a hot one. That was it. Hardly something to be yelling about. The girl could just make him another drink, but instead of asking, the man had decided a simple mistake was worth throwing a tantrum over. 

Wind frowned, considering if he should say something. No one else was doing anything, and the barista looked like she was about to cry. But what could Wind really do? The man probably wouldn’t take him seriously. 

Wind was still considering what to do when the man suddenly fell flat on his back. Wind blinked. The man had been steady on his feet only a moment ago. Why had he fallen? 

Wind carefully scrutinized the scene, and he was probably the only one who noticed that the iced coffee the man had been holding was floating midair. It hovered for a split second, before moving slightly to the left and falling right on top of the man’s head.

Hmmm. Something was off here. 

Wind tilted his head and reached out his senses towards where the man had fallen. His suspicions were confirmed. Definitely magical interference.

The ghostly form of a teenager was hovering over the man and laughing openly at him. The boy hadn’t been there before, when Wind had been looking with just his eyes, so he was definitely magical. (If the fact that he was floating and see-through hadn’t tipped Wind off.)

The boy was floating over the flabbergasted man who was still splayed on the floor and covered in coffee. His long hair obscured his face, although Wind saw the hint of scars crawling up his neck.

This wasn’t a ghost, although he looked like one. Ghosts didn’t laugh. They didn’t pay any attention to Hylians. And they definitely couldn’t interact with the physical world.

This was a Poltergeist, a sentient spirit who lived off chaos.

Should Wind leave? He wasn’t very experienced with Poltergeists. He’d read a little bit about them, sure, but there weren’t very many of them in the city, so he’d never seen one before. 

At this point, he doubted Four was going to show up, and if the poltergeist noticed Wind could see him, he might be in trouble. He started to quietly shove his homework in his backpack.

And then- 

“Hey, sorry I’m late.”

“Four!” Wind exclaimed happily, spinning around to see the other teen standing behind him. “I thought you weren’t going to show up.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Four said sheepishly. “One of my friends wanted to come, and he wouldn't take no for an answer.”

“That’s fine,” Wind said, a little confused. “I don't mind meeting your friends.”

Four sighed slightly, taking a seat. “Yeah, but Wild can be a little, uh, Wild. He can be overwhelming to meet.” 

Wind snorted. “It sounds like he’s named well, then.”

Four nodded. “He is.”

“I am!” A new voice cheerfully agreed. Wind looked up, and had to suppress his startled flinch at seeing the Poltergeist standing there, now in a corporal form with his feet firmly on the ground. “Sorry, I was in the bathroom.” Wild continued and pulled over a chair from an unused table to take a seat next to Four.

Wind knew for a fact Wild hadn’t been in the bathroom. Wild had been harassing the rude customer, making him trip at least three times on his way out of the cafe, and utterly humiliating him. (Wind could still hear someone nearby muttering about how the man must have been drunk.)

Well. Wind always knew that Four would have weird friends. And it’s not like Wild’s actions had been harmful, per say, so…

“Hello, Wild, It’s nice to meet you!” 

~~~

Hyrule laughed easily. Wind figured this out soon after he met them. 

The first time Wind heard Hyrule laugh, he hadn’t even known them for ten minutes. Wild, who’d been the one to introduce Hyrule to them, had done something stupid and slightly chaotic- as was typical for the Poltergeist- and Hyurle had laughed at him. 

Their laugh sounded like sweet chiming bells. And not in the metaphorical way, where people describe someone’s laugh as “sounding like a bell” as a way to say their laugh was pretty.

Hyrule’s laugh was literally the sound of overlapping ringing bells. Wind wasn’t the least surprised when he took a peak at Hyrule’s aura and saw the familiar sight of delicate Fae magic. 

Wind had never spoken to a Fae before, but plenty of them lived in the Lost Woods. He’d seen them out of the corner of his eye while he was playing in the woods as a kid, and he’d sensed their magic. It was a little strange, he thought, that Hyrule didn’t seem to mind being in the city. Most Fae preferred nature.

Smiling, Wind lets his own giggles join Hyrule’s.

~~~

Werewolves were one of the creatures that Wind could actually identify based on their magical signature. He’d seen plenty of them around the city before, and his Granny had been sure to point them out to him. The local Werewolf packs were always easy to spot when they were out and about. 

Wind had identified Twilight based on his aura alone, but he hadn’t really needed to see Twilight’s magic to know what he was. Everything about the man and his actions screamed “Dog.” 

Not to mention, the marks on Twilight's forehead that signaled his worship of the moon goddess. That was a bit of a dead giveaway. 

(There was also that time Twilight had started chewing on the bone of cucco drumstick after he’d already picked all the meat off it. But by then, Wind was already aware that Twilight was a Werewolf, so didn’t draw attention to what the man was doing.)

~~~

A bell jingled merrily somewhere deep in the shop when Wind pushed open the door to Ravio’s Curio Shop for All Occasions. An unfamiliar voice rang out from the back of the store in response to the chime. “I’ll be out in just a moment! Feel free to look around!”

Wind shuffled awkwardly in place. He hadn’t come here to shop. He'd come to find Legend, since she’d promised to help Wind with his history project. 

Legend had mentioned before that she’d gotten a degree in art history at some point, while carefully not telling Wind exactly when she’d gotten said degree. When Wind had gotten the assignment to make a presentation about a Renaissance artist, he’d practically begged Legend to help him. The project was due on Monday, and since it was Saturday, he didn’t have a lot of time to finish it. Wind hoped she hadn’t forgotten. 

As he waited, Wind did as the voice instructed and took a look around the store. The inside of the shop was jam-packed with cluttered shelves. The one nearest to him was filled with assorted jewelry, and another was filled with an odd assortment of keys, old coins, and other small metal trinkets. Yet another shelving unit was stuffed full of books. The ancient tomes overflowed haphazardly onto the floor next to the shelf, piled in stacks that were almost taller than Wind.

The whole shop was like that, packed full of bits and bobs in only a semi-organized way.

A pleasant musty smell that reminded Wind of old secondhand bookstores filled his nose, and the wooden floor creaked under his feet as he cautiously moved into the shop to wait at the front desk. Despite the age of the building, the interior was well taken care of, clean, and dust free. It was obvious the shopkeepers took pride in their store.

Not that Wind expected anything less than that from Legend and Ravio, her business partner that Wind had yet to meet. The only thing that looked slightly out of place was a bird cage set behind the counter with a white and blue bird sitting within it, head tucked under its wind and apparently asleep.

Legend didn’t seem like the kind of person who would keep a bird in their shop. But maybe the bird was Ravio’s?

After a few moments of waiting, someone pushed aside the heavy velvet curtain that separated the back of the store from the shop floor, and came hustling out. 

The person wore a long purple dress that came down to their ankles, with a belt cinched around their waist. A blue and purple striped scarf was wrapped around their neck and tossed over their shoulder, and a pair of green rupees had been transformed into earrings that dangled from the person’s long ears. 

Their eyes were a bright unnatural green that matched the shade of the rupees that made up their earrings. If Wind didn’t know any better, he would assume the person was wearing contacts. It was just like Legend’s pastel pink eyes, Wind mused. 

It was unnatural. At least for a Hylian.

The person laid eyes on Wind, and he could see them immediately light up at the sight of a customer. “Hello!” They chirped, “My name is Ravio, and welcome to my shop!” 

Steamrolling onwards and apparently not in the least bit concerned that Wind hadn’t had the time to say anything, Ravio turned their attention towards a lamp that sat on a nearby table. It was an ugly thing, with a marbled neon green and pink pattern, and a yellow lampshade. 

“Why don’t you buy this lovely lamp?” Ravio asked. “It’s a bit old-fashioned, but it would be a conversation starter. I’m sure it would look lovely in your living room! Only a small price of ninety nine rupees!” 

Ravio’s voice had turned soft and lyrical, and Wind couldn't help but think Ravio was right. The lamp was a bit old-fashioned, but maybe Granny would like it? The green and pink pattern would go nicely with the decoration in the main sitting room of the house….

Wind blinked, and abruptly all those thoughts immediately faded away as if they’d never been there. In retrospect, they seemed ridiculous. There was no way the pink would go with their home decor, and Granny would be so mad at Wind if he spent all his allowance on an ugly lamp.

Ravio’s voice… It had put those thoughts in his head somehow. It was magic, obviously, but what kind? 

WInd knew of only one creature that held that sort of power in their voice.

Sirens.

Wind stared blankly at the Siren for a moment.

Granny had told him about them before. Weren’t Sirens supposed to live in the sea? Wind had thought so, but here one was, standing and breathing on land. 

And Ravio must be a Siren. He didn’t know of any other magical creature that could be so convincing with their voice alone. He’d have to check the library when he got home and see if they owned any books about Sirens.

Wind reached out his magical senses towards Ravio, reaching out along the natural magic of the universe until he reached Ravio’s aura. Immediately, familiarity struck him. The aura had a dreamy ephemeral quality to it that could lull Wind to sleep if he let it. Despite a few key differences- the kind you would see between individuals- it felt exactly like Legend’s aura. 

So that’s what kind of creature Legend was. 

Legend’s attachment to wearing his choker everywhere made sense now, Wind thought. He must be trying to hide his gills. 

Wind ended up staring at Ravio longer than he intended to as he took in the feeling of the Siren’s aura. It was enough that Ravio’s grin became a touch uncertain. “Uh, kid?” When Wind still didn’t say anything, Ravio sighed and muttered. “Oh well, I guess that lamp’s a bit of a lost cause. Can’t even make anyone buy it…”

Ravio quickly recovered, his voice returning to its happy tone. “We have other objects if you don’t care for lamps! Over here we have some vintage locks. Most of them don’t have their keys, but-”

“Um, no thanks.” Wind interrupted. He wasn’t trying to be rude, but Ravio was the one being rude in the first place, using his Siren song on another magical creature. Wind didn’t know a lot about sirens, but even he knew that wasn’t polite.

Not that Ravio had any way to know Wind was magical, but still. It was the principle. 

Ravio blinked at Wind with wide eyes. It took a moment for the Siren to register that Wind wasn’t affected in the slightest by his song. When they did, they squeaked. “O-oh! Sorry, sir, I didn't realize, uh...” As they stuttered, the shopkeeper turned redder and redder, flushing all the way up to the tips of their ears

When Ravio looked like they were going to run away and hide in the back of the store, Wind took pity on them. He wasn’t offended by Ravio using their song on Wind, so there wasn’t any need to make a big deal out of it.

“It’s fine.” He shrugged. “I was actually looking for Legend?” 

“Oh!” Ravio relaxed when Wind dismissed their mistake, a sliver of confidence returning to them. When they realized what Wind was saying their eyes widened. “Oh, you’re that kid she was talking about! She didn’t mention that you were…” Ravio trailed off, not knowing what magical creature Wind actually was. “Magical.” He finished lamely.

Wind shrugged, not bothering to tell Ravio that he was a psychic. “Legend doesn’t know.”

“But you know he’s a siren?” Ravio questioned. 

Wind suppressed a snort. If he hadn’t already figured it out, Ravio would’ve just given the game away. Not that there was a game, really. At least not one that his friends knew they were playing. “Not until about two minutes ago.”

Neither one of them seemed to know what else to say. Ravio was grimacing at Wind, and Wind was sure he was making a similar face back at them. 

“Let’s never speak of this to anyone.”

“Agreed. Legend is out right now, but she’ll be back soon. You can come and wait in the back for her, though.”

And just like that, the incident was mostly forgotten.

[motherofkittens94]

Ah gee I went to see hozier yesterday and yeah I enjoyed it the music was good but I had such a strange experience right first off this lady pulled me out the queue and put me to the front im used to this part happening and I'm usually kinda glad like yes that’s the one single disability perk right, queue jumping

but also this lady was making me hold her hand which was a bit much like you dont need to do that I can walk but yeah my disability is noticeable i guess and people think theyre doing good but anyway she let me go in ahead and yeah that was great but then I guess she was telling the whole staff about me or something because like literally every other ten minutes some new staff member would corner me ask if I was okay or why I was alone or if was I lost or if I needed help I would say I'm okay not lost im by myself I can manage but then some other person would come later and ask me again if i was okay and if I wanted help and Its like again??

eventually they moved me to the raised platform which is not what i booked ok but fine it is a better view there from thanks but I dont see why people felt the need to be checking me so much i wasnt drunk i wasnt injured i wasn't upset i was not doing anything out of the ordinary nothing that anybody else wasn't also or less even i mean there were very drunk people there and they weren't being asked if they were okay

I mean asking once fine nice even

twice ?understandable but like seven /eight times? Frickin weird leave me alone already I can manage

Like I feel I should be grateful they were helping me and it sort of was and you may think oh but everyone wanted to assist you wouldnt you perfer that? surely worse things could've happened instead you got better treatment thats good right?

Yeah maybe but you know it was going on so often it made me feel self conscious like clearly I was coming off as not normal and /or vulnerable somehow or maybe they didnt believe i was as old as i said i was or idk but i didn't ask for help and didn't really need it either I just wanted to have fun listen to music relax be a regular person like everybody else there

It would've been fine- if i had asked for help - I didn't

Also afterwards they didn't even let me leave until it was nearly empty and then they all waving at me like goodbye sweetie goodbye _like embarrassing how am i ever gonna come back here now after this

and then they made two guys walk with me all down the street because i was going home by myself ive done this same journey a billion times i know what im doing

so anyway thats not even the end of it because next I take the train back and get off my stop someone in the train gets off to ask I'm okay and if I know where to go like yes I'm going home then as I go up the hill this lady is following me annnd then she asks im okay and if i need help as well!

what do you think I'm doing!

like what the hell is wrong with me tonight that nobody thinks I'm okay? I don't know what you think is wrong whats the matter with me huh? I can't work out what I did that made everyone so concerned except just being there

I was by myself fair- i guess if someone was with me all this wouldn't have happened and yeah im a loser and i go to events by myself sometimes so what? its not illegal though is it im twenty eight not bloody five i literally live there I don't need help walking around im not lost I dont need you to pretend to befriend me I did not need help

Maybe i took this all the wrong way because yeah they wanted to help but it felt like every single person was singling me out and letting me know they think I'm strange and that I cant cope

Uncomfortable!

This is what i get for trying to do normal gal activities I guess

[gisellelx]

For the fanfic writer asks, want to do 29, 33, and 44?

Thanks @jessicanjpa!

29. What's your most popular fic?

Ithaca Is Gorges, by far. It totally makes my day any time I see someone rec it, and the fact that it's still kicking around at the top of a lot of people's rec lists is such a terrific compliment. I use reddit mainly for my hobby of investing and personal finance, so I only lurk on the Twific reddit but there's usually not a month that goes by where someone doesn't suggest somewhere that someone else read it. It's one reason I refuse to be shy about the value of fanfic writing. I work alongside people whose whole job it is to publish novels and teach fiction writing, and sure, nobody's written about my fanfic in Kirkus reviews, but for sure far more people have read and recommended my novels than have any of theirs. 😆 I'd rather have the latter.

33. Do you ever read your own fics once they've been posted?

Perpetually. In fact, I just managed to lose/break two Kindles in one month and am on my third since the beginning of October. I noticed when I added my Calibre library to the one before this one that my table of contents weren't working properly for several of my ebook versions so I actually took the time to regenerate them last week. Of course, then I sat down and read the entirety of Present Perfect—it's the gnarliest one to format so at first I was just ostensibly checking to make sure it was done correctly, but then I got sucked in because it's a pretty good story if I do say so myself.

It's helpful both because it spurs my own writing, but also keeps me aware of my own canon. Whenever possible, I try to write such that every story I write takes place in the same universe as every other one, and being reminded that oh right, this is the year I decided that Alice and Jasper showed up, and where, helps me make sure a reference I make to it six years later isn't different. Wouldn't mind if Stephenie Meyer paid as close attention.

44. How often do you write?

Trying to bring this back to a more regular practice. I add a few words to things almost every single day. But really getting into the groove of it isn't nearly as often as it once was. I keep trying to get back into a daily fiction writing practice and it's hard. Part of that is, I fear, the easy allure of other kinds of online distraction which did not exist as completely when I used to write fiction, both ofic and fanfic, more prolifically. But other of it is just that I do a lot of writing these days. People think professors are mostly teachers and nope, we're mostly writers. So when work is writing, having fun also be writing is sometimes a lot. On the other hand, I write a lot when I'm writing a lot. 😅 When the ole's sideblog is very active, it's a really good sign that I'm also throwing thousands of words down on the WIPs. So, trying to write more and read more and reddit less.

Ask me things

[eyesallforu]

@dcynight

Sun had slowly begun to notice a new face lingering around the pizza plex the last several weeks. He wasn't sure who they were, but he caught a few glimpses of them peeking inside the daycare close to closing time. Like they wanted to come inside, but wouldn't... Which, in Sun's experience- a LOT of adults found the daycare to be really comforting and whimsical. But most were embarrassed to step foot inside. So he assumed that's what the case was for this person too. So, to try and hopefully encourage them to come forth, Sun made a plan to leave them a little gift near where they liked to linger sometimes. Nothing TOO extravagant, but it seemed to be just a lone origami flower with a note underneath it. The note read: Dear, Stranger Hi! My name's Sun :D I've seen you around the daycare a time or two, and wanted to know if you'd like to be friends!! Our doors are almost always open to people of all ages! Maybe I can show you how to make one of these flowers some time?? Anyways, I'm running out of room, so I hope you enjoy the gift!! PS: Moony says hello too! PPS: You have a nice smile :) From: Sun ☼

Going on for another one of their regular patrols about the near gigantic pizzaplex, making sure everything was under control just in case another monster had any bright ideas to sneak about while the young stalker kept to the shadows, it only felt natural for them to linger closely where their targets of affection often rested during their short night cycle. He wouldn't let anything bad happen to them, not even if it meant "escorting" a few of the most vile human beings away from harms way. Some would even get a bit too touchy for Doe's own liking, and it was only fair he looked out for his darlings' comfort when they already had enough to worry about on their plate. They work so hard to take care of the many little ones that came through their humble sanctuary. What would two saints be without their lil guard dog, too?

As long he avoided the cameras and used his ever expanded shortcuts through every little crack and vent he found... What could possibly go wrong with him wanting to stay a tad close? He was doing these security guards a favor with volunteering his time of course!

And oh! His eyes dart to a couple pieces of lone paper that littered near the one giant gate of his beloveds' home. Now what do we have here?? He dare leans down and goes to pick it up quickly into the feelers of his hair, if not out of habit from keeping a supposed unknown admirer from reaching to the pair sooner. He'd just have to follow that little trail later, if so be it he has to take care of another bug trying to steal away what was theirs.

However, with one look to be stolen upon the slightly folded note, John's heart nearly skipped a beat in that instant...

.. He had to bite his tongue just to strain the sharp hiss of delight that threatened to sing out from his vocal cord. Oh, oh! What a terribly delightful change of events! They were starting to take notice of him after so many time reversals, and many much more if all this waiting were to be worth it in the end!! He walks a bit faster to go hide in the nearest vent with his newfound prize. He must add it to his growing collection! Any treasure they gave had to be protected in his nest! He'd have to break a bit more of those metallic toys that guarded the vents to get back to his fine collection, but to be given such a token was just going to be the start of it.

Oh, my dear hearts! You truly know how to make a totally regular guy swoon. What did they ever do to deserve you both? :)

[bbugyu]

of all the views you had seen, there was little that could compare to him.

6.2k | cavalry captain!jeonghan x gn pyro!reader, genshin impact au, fluff, adventure, drinking, so much flirting, mentions of trauma, honestly this is the sweetest i'm ever gonna write jeonghan

happy inazuma release day!!! it's your local kaeya trash, because i predictably fall for gay bastards that lie straight to my face (example: jeonghan), and i'm here to give you a fic i wrote AGES ago and just polished up a bit to celebrate the release of what is likely going to be my FAVORITE region in genshin impact. i'm japanese so 😅 i have a soft spot. if there's any other gaymer carats out there, enjoy this one. if not, sorry! you can actually probably still read this and understand it for the most part, though you might miss a bit of context of the landscape and the lore.

ps. go tell @babiemingoo that wonwoo xinqiu 🤭

~

your work with the adventurer's guild was always efficient. you received your commissions, you carried them out, then returned for your reward, usually before the sun had even peaked. the rest of your day was generally spent either basking in the eternal sun of mondstadt, feeding cats in inazuma, or enjoying a hard earned meal in liyue, depending on where you decided to stay that week, finding board and paying for it with the commission you had earned that day. your tendency to wander came less from choice and more from nature - you could call yourself a nomad, but generally, you just got bored, and preferred seeing everything teyvat had to offer rather than settling in one place. adventuring was simply what you were meant to do, your mother had told you at a young age.

she, too, had wandered for most of her youth, and didn't stop just because you had come into her life. you remembered getting scooped up because you had wandered off a bit too close to the railing at wangshu inn as a toddler, playing with dogs at the docks of liyue harbor. you remembered the ludi harpastum and the first time you had ever had a sweet honey roast, and the way it made your eyes grow ten times in size before you dug in for more.

when your vision was bestowed upon you, you already knew how to use a sword. it was important, your mother told you, that you knew how to protect yourself. she had a vision as well, younger even than you had, and you had come to recognize the static in the air as a sign that she was angry - whether it was because of an altercation with someone on your journey or because you had secretly eaten the last hashbrown without consulting her first.

she used her vision and a sturdy blade she had owned since before you were born to protect the two of you on the road, but when she felt you were old enough, she taught you how to weild. a two handed weapon that was far too big for you when you were only fourteen, but when your reckless abandon got paired with a spark, you suddenly became far more dangerous than even your own mother. she scolded you for nearly starting a forest fire when you tried to pair the two skills for the first time after receiving your vision, and you both agreed that training was a beach activity from then on.

your mother settled eventually, after you were old and skilled enough to take on the road alone, pulling the many favors she had gathered in her travels to build a home in a small neighborhood south of liyue harbor, nestled in the foothills of mount tianheng, where you visited as often as your wandering allowed.

you had become much better with your vision. more careful but just as hot. quick to scan situations and strategize in the moment, hardly taking a second before jumping into action, slaying hilichurls like you were getting paid. well, you were, you supposed, but you had been doing this long before you had discovered the benefit of joining the guild. you were good at it. you were built for adventure, but revelled in leisure. there was good reason you were able to take afternoons off, and you milked every last second of it.

"you're back in town?"

you grinned, leaning your sword against the wall and dropping your bag off your shoulders before settling at the bar. "for now."

rubin often served you alcohol - when you were in mondstadt, at least, however often that may be - but never questioned you deeply. he would ask how your travels were, and listen to your stories from regions beyond his knowledge, of the cultures that he had only heard of from people like you. he enjoyed them just about as much as any, if not a little more, purely because your tenacious personality brought something more to the table. he wondered, though, how long you intended to keep living day by day, sleeping in different beds every week.

"what's wrong with sleeping in different beds?" you teased, laughing into your wine glass. "if i didn't know any better, i'd think you were shaming me, rube."

rubin simply laughed, knowing your tone by now. "i just wonder if you ever intend on digging in your roots, or if you'll continue travelling forever."

"if i dig roots, you may never see me again. is that what you want?"

"what," he said. "you don't like mondstadt?"

"i love monstadt," you assured him. "but i also love inazuma. and my mother is in liyue, though she might be upset with me if i try to settle too close to her. perhaps natlan would suit me more?" you shrugged finally, the door behind you opening as you finished with "i suppose i'll settle when i've found a reason to love one place more than the rest."

rubin shook his head, a chuckle falling from his lips. "a wanderer through and through." his attention was quickly drawn to the man entering the bar. "ah, captain! the usual?"

"please," the decorated man said, quickly taking a seat beside you despite the rest of the bar being available. "would you like another, wanderer?"

you eyed him cautiously, studying what you could see if his face around the black eyepatch, gaze skimming down his elaborate clothing before looking down at your emptied drink. "sure."

"another for your wandering friend, rubin, on my tab, please." your brain swirled, considering the brief information you had been given and wondered how you had never managed to meet this regular during your past visits. "are you just drinking dandelion wine, or something more fun?"

"more fun?" you asked. "what are you drinking, then?"

"well, a death after noon, of course," he stated. "don't tell me you haven't had one."

you blinked at him. "i haven't."

you turned towards rubin when he laughed at the back and forth. "shall i make two, then?"

"definitely," your new drinking buddy said, then gestured to you. "you trust my taste, right?"

you said nothing, but he accepted your silent smile as an agreeance. "captain," you said finally, thinking of how rubin had addressed him. "of?"

the man turned towards you, his elbow planted on the bar and his cheek on a fist. despite his get up, he had a playful smirk across his lips. "you mean, my reputation doesn't precede me? you really are a wanderer. everyone in mondstadt knows my name."

"everyone but me," you corrected. "as i'm currently in mondstadt."

his teeth shone behind his smirking lips before he sat up straight. "well, allow me to introduce myself." he saluted, his arm extending from his side at an angle - a salute you recognized from the guards around the city. "i am jeonghan, the cavalry captain of the knights of favonius."

"ah, the knights," you smiled briefly, before letting your eyes wander as you thought, crossing your arms over the bar. "i don't see much of a cavalry in the city, though."

he let out an amused exhale. "so i have a bit more free time these days."

"i'm sure the acting grand master is jealous of all your free time," you teased. "poor guy, looks like he's staving off a panic attack every time i see him. you should probably help him more."

"so," he sighed, leaning against the bar again. "you know of the acting grand master but not me?"

"jihoon?" you asked. "of course i know of him. he's all anyone ever talks about around here."

jeonghan nodded once, thanking rubin when he placed two drinks before you. "people talk about me, also, you know."

your lips stuck out in a pout. "jeonghan, you said? doesn't ring a bell."

he rolled his eyes and picked up his drink, holding it out for you to cheers against. you giggled, clinking your glass against his before taking a sip. the golden liquid was sweet, but not like the dandelion wine you had grown to love in this region. it had more depth, a subtle bitterness to it, and a refreshing bubble. you stared after the glass when it left your lips, then looked over to find jeonghan grinning at you.

"i see why it's your usual," you said, taking another sip before placing the glass on the bar. "i could drink too many."

"will you?" he asked.

"not tonight," you replied coolly. "i haven't asked sana to put me up at the guild yet, and if i get there too late, i'll get a cot instead of a bed. unless rubin finally wants to come clean about something?"

the bartender laughed. "how many times do i have to tell you? we don't even have rooms to board."

you squinted at him. "i know there's something upstairs. i'll learn your secrets one day, rube."

"i wouldn't be a very good bartender if i didn't know how to keep them."

"so you're in the guild?" jeonghan asked as rubin attended to another patron. "an adventuring wanderer."

you smiled vaguely at him. "i am. i have to pay for my travels somehow."

he shrugged. "there's other ways to make money. probably more profitable, too."

you eyed his teasing smirk. "i'm not sure i know what you're implying."

"as a captain of the knights of favonius, i assure you, i'm implying nothing at all," he said, exhaling sharply and adjusting on his stool. he leaned over towards you before speaking in a quieter tone. "but as jeonghan, i think you know exactly what i'm implying."

you only laughed, recognizing the thinly veiled attempt to worm a secret out of you. "i outgrew those means a long time ago. besides, when mora gets tight, i can always board up with my mother. i like liyue enough."

jeonghan studied you as you drank again. "liyue's home, is it?'

"for her, yes," you said, looking over to him, but you found yourself looking away again when his steely blue gaze met yours. you thought carefully about how much of yourself you were willing to reveal to this stranger, especially considering how important he was in the rule of the city. "she was a wanderer, too, and ended up falling in love with liyue harbor."

jeonghan made note of the way your face softened as you spoke about your mother. "and what about you?"

you met his intent look again, thinking about how his covered eye somehow made him even more intimidating. perhaps that was its purpose. "what about me?"

"what have you fallen in love with?"

a smile crept onto your lips as you processed his question. "oh, archons, what have i not fallen in love with? the smell of the open ocean in inazuma, the breathtaking temples in sumeru - have you ever been to waterfall city?"

jeonghan merely shook his head at you, the corners of his mouth turning upwards as he put his cheek on a fist again, leaning against the bar. "beautiful?"

you exhaled, eyes wide as you thought of the towering falls and the light mist that covered the city, trying to come up with an apt description. "humbling. there's nothing like it."

he watched your expression, head tilting further. "what a wonderful way to describe a place. tell me more."

your gaze went to him, then away briefly, feeling suddenly shy as you noticed his look. "about waterfall city?"

he shrugged a fur covered shoulder, shaking his head lightly. "about anywhere. describe your world, wanderer. i'd like to hear whatever you have to say."

you wondered if the heat that ran through you was because of the alcohol or the man, but you just took another drink and cleared your throat lightly, thinking of more places you had discovered in your travels. you thought of qingce village, one of your favorite places to visit, because the people are kind and welcoming and the fields are so beautiful. you told him about a tea shop owned by an old man - he insisted you call him pops so fiercely that you weren't even sure you had caught his given name - and it was probably the most relaxing cup of tea you ever had.

"it's been a while since i've gone," you sighed. "i think i'm overdue for a chat with pops and his tea."

jeonghan was smiling when you looked at him again. "the tea in liyue is unmatched," he said, reaching for his drink. before taking another sip, he gestured for you to continue.

so you did. you told him about sakura pond, about celestia city, about the volcanic black beaches. you told him liyue had your favorite people, but inazuma had your favorite food. he clicked his tongue at you.

"what about mondstadt? do we have one of your favorites?"

you smiled, genuinely. "sunsets. the night sky is different here than it is anywhere else. i think mondstadt is the closest we can get to the stars without joining the archons."

jeonghan studied you briefly, his blue eye flicking over your face as you finished your drink. "i think that's an apt observation. it seems your eyes are always wide."

"i travel for the views," you exhaled. "i don't plan on missing any."

he thought a second. "have you been to starsnatch cliff?"

your eyes lit up. "not in years," you said, in complete shock that you could have forgotten such a place. you pushed from the bar slightly, turning towards him, and he noticed the flash of a red gem strapped to your right thigh for the first time. "my mother took me there when i was a kid, but i haven't gone since."

"it never gets old," he said, sipping at the end of his drink. "i've yet to see that view and not be in awe."

"i'll go before i leave mondstadt again," you decided.

he looked to you. "when will that be?"

you sighed. "not sure, yet."

he just chuckled. "would you like another drink?"

"oh, no," you said, standing and stretching your spine. "i should make my leave. i don't like sleeping on cots. i just came by to let my ol' pal rube know i was in town again."

jeonghan watched you pull your pack onto your back, grabbing the handle of your sheathed claymore from where it was leaning against the wall next to the bar. "perhaps i'll see you again tomorrow?"

you looked at him, a vague smile on your lips as you strapped your sword back on. "perhaps you will, captain."

"jeonghan," he corrected. "but i don't believe you ever shared your name?"

"that was by design, captain," you said, and he swore he caught a glint in your eye as you bid rubin a farewell and stepped out of the angel's share.

jeonghan spun back around on his stool, immediately looking to rubin. "do you know their name?"

"no, sir," he said, looking at the closed door. "they've never said."

jeonghan's gaze went to the empty glass you had left behind, thinking about your stories, your sword, and the signifier of your vision on your thigh. "fascinating."

you got lucky - sana had a private room for you, and said you were welcome to rent it for your stay. she said not many people were travelling to mondstadt these days, and that more often than not, the adventurer's barracks in headquarters went unused. ever since the fatui had holed up in the grand goth hotel, it had been harder for you to make extended stays in mondstadt, but it seemed that something was telling you to stick around longer than usual. you laid on the hard mattress - a feeling that was more comforting than most, thanks to your continuous travels - and thought of the charming captain that had made a night of questioning you. you wondered if he really had any interest in anything you had to say, or if he had been hoping for details about something pertinent to an investigation.

you packed a lighter bag in the morning, only bringing along the essentials as you set out for your commissions for the day. that afternoon, you wandered around mondstadt and asked questions. questions about the simultaneously well-discussed and mysterious cavalry captain that had listened to your tales of travel, and answers came easier than expected, though they didn't contain all the details you were looking for. that night, you waited up at the angel's share to brag about your newfound knowledge to the captain that never showed, and you did your best to not let that hurt your ego.

the next day, you made a detour on your way back to the city after completing your commissions, stopping by springvale to enjoy a well deserved lunch and catch up with some locals. you sat in the grass with a skewer of grilled meat, watching the windmills of mondstadt steadily spin in the distance as time passed, thinking about how rubin had asked you if you didn't like it here.

you did, you decided. mondstadt felt different than anywhere else you had been. untouched, almost. wilder. freer. despite being born in inazuma, your first memories being in celestia, or your mother being in liyue, mondstadt felt comfortable. felt like a home. you wondered to yourself what that might mean.

sana greeted you happily when you returned much later than you normally did. she told you to go ahead to the guild and come back, filing away your reports and retrieving your rewards. you dropped off your things in your rented room, quickly, practically galloping back down the steps towards the entrance of the city to continue your conversation with the adventurer guilds' mighty receptionist without your sword weighing you down. you crossed your arms on the counter, comfortably lounging as you chatted with her, having always enjoyed her conversations more than most. like rubin, she was a reason mondstadt always felt comfortable.

"fancy meeting you here," an all too familiar voice said, and you pulled your eyes from sana to find jeonghan leaning his side against the counter next to you.

"good evening, cavalry captain!" sana chirped, placing your reward - your room free already removed - on the counter and bowing politely. "can i help you with anything today?"

his icy gaze flickered from your lightly curved lips towards sana. "oh, no, my dear. i'm just coming back from an investigation near springvale"

"interesting," you said, eyeing him. "i was just there and didn't see you."

"i wouldn't be very good at my job if you did, wanderer," he grinned. "knight business, you wouldn't understand. got the assignment yesterday."

"ah," you shifted to your side to face him, making him eye the vision on your thigh. "is that why you never showed? rubin was worried."

he looked you up and down. "rubin was, huh?"

you rolled your eyes and adjusted your posture to face away from his smirk. sana looked between the two of you twice before clearing her throat as quietly as possible, making jeonghan let out a chuckle before he directed his attention to the guild's receptionist.

"how goes holding the post, sana?"

she looked almost frightened when the attention was directed back to her. "good, captain! in fact, one of our most capable adventurers-" she gestured to you, "-just returned from taking care of some of our more difficult commissions - no one else would take them."

jeonghan looked at you. "why did sana have to tell your secret?"

your eyebrows quirked upwards. "what secret?"

"that you're good at this. shouldn't you be bragging?"

a chuckle spilled from your lips, and jeonghan watched you as you looked away. "i'm not the bragging type."

he studied you a moment. "what type are you, then?"

you considered the question, wondering exactly how to answer. what type were you? if not a teller, than surely you must be a shower, but that didn't seem right either. you exhaled. "the quiet type. see you later, sana."

he laughed, pushing off the counter as you tucked your mora into your waist bag, wishing sana a good evening and following you towards the fountain. "you sure talk a lot for being the quiet type."

a smirk landed itself on your lips as he fell into step beside you. "maybe private is a better description."

"that one i can see," jeonghan said, looking over to you. he thought of how you had spent nearly an hour telling him about the best views in teyvat, yet he still didn't know the most basic information about you. "do you share your name with anyone?"

you thought. "my mother."

he scoffed. "anyone else?"

you looked to the sky. "rubin."

"wrong," he retorted. "he doesn't know your name, either."

you laughed, looking over to him as you came up to the fountain, spinning and sitting back on the ledge. "you asked?"

"of course i asked," he said, planting one foot on the ledge beside you and placing his arms on his knee. "i asked other people, too. almost everyone knows you, but they don't know anything about you. bits and pieces, but never the full picture."

you just smiled up at him from your relaxed posture on the concrete. "what's wrong with a little intrigue?"

he just smiled back at you. "nothing. i tend to keep a bit myself. did you know there's a large number of people in this city that were shocked when i said you wield a claymore?"

you hummed, dipping the tips of your fingers into the fountain. "did you know there's a large number of people in this city that consider you the most eligible bachelor in not only mondstadt, but in all of teyvat?"

his lips parted slightly as you spoke. "so you snooped, too."

"i was bored yesterday. it wasn't hard," you exhaled. you flicked a drop of water towards his foot. "jeonghan yoon, the cavalry captain of the knights of favonius since he was only nineteen. who loves wine and whose adopted brother runs the biggest winery in teyvat, yet they're hardly ever seen speaking. who comes from a far off land on a different continent, but has come to love mondstadt like it was his home. who wears an eyepatch but has never told anyone why."

he chuckled at the assessment and pulled his foot off the ledge to sit beside you. "so when do i get to learn about you?"

"i told you about me yesterday," you said.

"you told me about teyvat," he corrected. "and while i was able to infer some things about your character, i still know close to nothing about you."

you thought for a moment, realizing no one had ever noticed how little you truly shared despite always being willing to tell stories. "sometimes it feels like i am teyvat. it's hard to think of things that are just about me."

"you could start with that vision," he said, nodding at the strap across your thigh. you looked down at it, exhaling.

"what's there to tell? you know what it means, and that's more teyvat than me, too."

he leaned back on a hand, looking you up and down in curiosity. "how old were you."

you chewed your cheek. "fourteen. you?"

his lip quirked upwards. "sixteen."

you bumped his shoulder with yours playfully. "beat you."

he laughed. "how'd it happen?"

you paused. "you go first."

he just chuckled and looked away, watching a dog wander past the general store. "another day, then."

"no fun," you sighed, brushing your hands together as you leaned forward. "what about the eyepatch?"

he met your eyes, mouth slanted in a smirk. "another day."

you clicked your tongue. "if you wanna learn about me, you have to be willing to give up some details, too. i value a fair trade."

"then stop asking questions that you know i won't share the answer to." jeonghan noticed the color of the sky, then suddenly pulled a pocket watch out, checking it quickly to confirm that there was enough time and stood. "come with me?"

you stared up at him. "where?"

he grinned, extending a hand to help you to your feet. "you said mondstadt's sunsets were your favorite, correct?"

you generally weren't prone to following mysterious men into back corridors, but jeonghan easily convinced you with no words at all that sneaking around the sight line of the acting grand master was completely normal behavior, sushing you with a grin as you giggled, taking refuge around a corner after the two of you made it up to the second floor of the favonius headquarters. he tugged your hand with his, pulling you into a steep maintenance staircase behind a door.

"this feels like it's against some rules," you said, climbing the stairs behind him.

"nonsense," he said, looking back at you and grinning. "are you suggesting that a knight of favonius would break rules just to impress a mysterious traveler?"

you laughed quietly, wondering if he really meant that he wanted to impress you. "not most, but maybe this one."

he only thought for a split second. "if anyone asks, we're on official knight business."

he opened the door and you found the sky again, beginning to glow orange as the edge of the sun began to hide behind the cliffs. you stared in awe at the way the few fluffy clouds reflected pink and gold, then readjusted your focus when jeonghan spoke again.

"i hope you aren't afraid of heights," he said, walking over to the parapets that surrounded you. "the best view requires a bit of a climb."

you looked up at the tower, and while it wasn't much higher than where you stood, you also recognized that you were well above most of mondstadt already. "you climb up there?"

he paused, studying you. "we don't have to, we can just sit on a merlon-"

"no, we can climb," you said, walking over to where he was and eyeing the small gap between the parapet and the adjacent roof. "hop over?"

he laughed, stepping over the gap and holding a hand out for you. "watch your step."

and though you didn't need it, you accepted the hand anyways, and it stayed on yours as you walked over the roof to the tower, as if making sure you didn't misstep several stories in the air.

"would you like to go first?" he asked. "i'll catch you if you fall."

you rolled your eyes at him, dropping your hand from his grip. "you go first. i want to see where the handholds are."

he just grinned at you. "very well," he said, tugging on the wrists of his fingerless gloves to make sure they were taught against his skin before taking hold of a brick. you watched him as he took foothold after foothold, and he resisted the urge to show off by speedily scaling the wall in favor of making sure you had the chance to see where he gripped. when he reached the opening in the tower, he pulled himself up and spun around, exhaling with a grin as he seated himself at the ledge with his legs dangling above you.

"your turn."

you adjusted your waist bag as you sighed in amused annoyance, spinning it to be behind you and out of your hips' way to climb the wall. it wasn't much - a couple meters, maybe - and you had definitely climbed further, but jeonghan's presence made you slightly nervous. that nervousness, however, just fueled you to prove yourself.

you scaled the wall easily, making jeonghan whistle and jokingly call you some kind of adventurer, and your only hesitation came when his hand was in your face. despite your initial inclination to ignore it, you put your left hand in his, allowing him to help you pull yourself up on the ledge and sit beside him.

"impressive," he commented.

you laughed, brushing off your hands. "you, too."

"c'mon," he said, gesturing his head over his shoulder before making moves to stand. "the view's on the other side."

you sighed, looking over the view of mondstadt shrouded in golden light as he stood and walked to the other ledge. "never a moment of rest with you."

"if you want to miss the sunset, be my guest."

you leaned back on your hands and laughed, pulling your gaze away from the city to look at where jeonghan had seated himself on the other end of the tower, and subsequently the view of the rolling hills beyond him that were glowing golden in the evening sun. you blinked for a second, realizing you hadn't seen the sunset the night before, and quickly got to your feet to join him before you missed this one, too.

he gave you a soft smile when you sat beside him, and you briefly wondered how many he had in his repertoire. the wind was stronger higher, whipping gently through his hair and alleviating any uncomfortable warmth you may have had from exerting yourself on the way up. you watched the dregs of sunlight skip across the grassy hills and the sky turn deep orange and bright pink, feet swinging lightly over the edge of the tower.

"i was fighting with my brother," he said suddenly, causing you to look at him with a start before you realized he was telling you about his vision. there was a slight smile on his face as he looked out on the fields. "hyungwon. it was bad. he already had his - he's a pyro, like you - and we were both young and stupid and just lost our dad. we were sword fighting and it came to me when i needed it. it probably saved my life, honestly."

you blinked at him. "you think he would have killed you?'

he exhaled, leaning back on his hands. "i think if the roles had been reversed, i would have tried to kill him, too. i'm grateful it didn't go that way, though." he coughed abruptly, clearing his throat. "we're on speaking terms, and i do love him as a brother, but i generally avoid him."

you let that thought ruminate as you watched the sun sink, halfway beyond the horizon. "my father was in a gang in inazuma, but my mom ran away when she found out she was pregnant. didn't want to raise a kid in that world, i guess? we ran into him when i got older and he wasn't very understanding." you paused, remembering the detail too well. "they were going to take her vision. that's what they did to traitors. probably take me, too. they weren't expecting me to start setting fires."

jeonghan's gaze was on you as yours was on the horizon. "just a couple of survivors."

you looked over at him, a smirk on your lips. "a couple?"

he laughed waving at your implication, thinking he would have said the same thing in an attempt to fluster you just as you were to him. "like, more than one and less than four."

you only laughed back. "fortune favors the weak, i suppose. the archons saw we needed help and extended a fig branch."

"is that what it was?" he asked, a laugh on his lips. "we were both fighting people. that's hardly an offer of peace."

"look for the deeper meaning, jeonghan. we were fighting for our lives," you pointed out, and he realized it was the first time you had addressed him by his name rather than his title. "i was fighting for family. for freedom. is that not the greatest pursuit of peace?"

he watched you as you pulled your knees to your chest, putting your feet on the edge of the stonework surface you sat on. he studied the way the golden rays lit your skin and made your eyes sparkle. "i suppose so."

you paused in that moment for a long while, and jeonghan allowed the comfortable silence as the two of you watched the sun disappear beyond the cliffs of mondstadt. the sky was turning a deep shade of purple when you told him your name, and jeonghan thought that it was quite possibly the best news he had ever received, but he kept that joy to himself as he confirmed your name, and you rolled your eyes.

"are you gonna answer my other question now?"

he scoffed. "about the eyepatch? is it really that interesting?"

"not any more interesting than my name," you retorted.

"completely untrue," jeonghan insisted. "i've never been so excited to be told a secret, and i get told a lot of secrets."

you eyed his smile warily. "my name may be unknown, but it's no secret."

he sighed and shook his head lightly. "you really wanna know the reason i wear it? it's probably not as dramatic as you're hoping."

"yet you hide it?"

he laughed. "what's wrong with a little intrigue?"

you looked away, recognizing the parrot of your own words. "whatever you say, captain."

"no!" he whined and grabbed your arm, making you start and look at him with big eyes. "you just started calling me jeonghan, don't go back to captain."

you stared at him, only breaking to laugh, dropping your legs over the edge again. "you won't show me what's under the eyepatch, so i thought we weren't on first name basis."

his hand on your bicep was warm and gentle, but his gaze was piercing as he thought it over for a bit longer. you did your best to hold it, but you felt yourself shrinking when he quietly muttered, "go on, then."

it took you a second to register what he meant, and you reached out slowly, fingers hesitating before they brushed upon his cheekbone. jeonghan closed his eyes, resigning to your touch as you gently lifted the eyepatch. his eyes opened again, slowly, and you thought your heart might have skipped a beat.

"like chocolate," you commented, and a smile spread across his lips.

"that's the kindest reaction i've gotten."

your fingers fell upon his temple, brushing down gently as you inspected his singular brown eye. "since birth?"

he nodded, his eyes flicking down to your lips briefly before he spoke. "heterochromia. it's a characteristic of my family."

you studied his face. "not the one here?"

he sighed. "not the one here."

the icy blue of jeonghan's eye had always struck something in you. it made him mysterious. commanding. it felt like he saw more than you despite having one eye covered. but now, you felt warm. you felt his gentleness. there was comfort hidden away behind that black patch, and you told him that you understood why the cavalry captain had chosen to hide the eye he did.

but to you, he was willing to show anything that would keep you around longer, he said.

"why me?" you asked, studying his expression when he looked away. the sun had retreated behind the hills, leaving the sky a deep blue.

jeonghan didn't respond right away, and you wondered if he himself even knew the answer. "we're birds of a feather, you and i."

you looked out to the view again, watching the subtle movements of the wild hills. "did you travel much before you came here?"

"it was all i knew," he told you. "i was thirteen when my father left me here."

your neck snapped, your eyes on his profile when he leaned back on his hands. "left you?"

he almost laughed, a smile on his lips when his eyes met yours. "i was slowing him down, i suppose. hyungwon's father found me and took me in."

"so you stayed?"

"i didn't always want to," he assured you. "i had the itch to leave for years. as soon as i was able, i always told myself." he paused, eyes dropping. "then father died. then hyungwon turned down his position with the knights. and i was their second choice."

you pursed your lips. "you stayed for a job."

he laughed. "it's not that simple."

you smiled at him, enjoying the warmth of his eyes on yours as the sky cooled. "are you sure we're birds of a feather?"

"listen," he said, getting off his hands and brushing them off on his thighs. "i accepted the job so that i could set the story straight. i didn't want to run from the people that believed that hyungwon tried to kill me to avenge our father."

you studied him. "i'm sorry."

"don't be," he said, nudging your shoulder. "i was still planning on leaving, but then i fell in love."

you looked away, trying to sort out the way your stomach flipped. "are they still around?"

"not with a person," he laughed, then nodded towards the now dark hills. "with the views. besides, i get free reign whenever i leave for missions. i have fun adventuring, and come home to the best sunsets in teyvat. there are worse places to call home."

your eyes scanned the horizon, remembering the brilliant rays of sun you had just seen skip across it. "that is tempting."

"how tempting?" he asked.

you thought on that for a moment. "almost as much as a death after noon right now."

jeonghan laughed, slightly proud that he had hooked you on his favorite drink. "shall we go see rubin, then?"

you hummed, smiling at the captain. "as long as i don't have to sit alone again."

"that's a promise," he told you as he stood, holding out a hand that you took without hesitation, though he withheld his intention to make sure you were never alone again.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S3:E3; Chapter Three, The Case Of The Missing Lifeguard - [Pt. 6 - FINAL]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

𝘌𝘭 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘉𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘋&𝘋. 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘺 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘙𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘙𝘶𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦.

⚠️: anxiety [but no attacks], drugged food/drink, chloroform

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

Through the heavy mist of rain, two beams of light emerge up the rain-soaked road. Behind it, two pairs of bikes; their riders — and one passenger — hidden under brightly colored rain slickers of red, yellow, and blue.

A flash of lightning erupts over their hunched figures, revealing the grim faces of El, Max, and Y/n.

With a wet screech, their tires skid against the pavement as they come to a sudden halt beside a very familiar mailbox.

"Is this it?" Max asks.

El steps off the back of Max's bike, her trepid features looking out over the front lawn and her gut sinks.

1438. Same red door? This had to be it.

El nods.

But what were they about to find?

That question had been rattling around Y/n's head all day, tangling her stomach into knots. Those knots only tightened when her friends began up the driveway.

She steals another anxious glance out from under her azure hood before joining them. Wincing against the mud trailing under her shoes as they sink into the grass, her stomach plummets when she spots the car taking up the rest of the driveway space: Billy's car.

Y/n sighed.

"Remember when this a regular sleepover?" She wonders aloud. "That was fun."

"Y/n, I'm sure it's fine. Come on," Max eases, genuinely trying to be helpful.

Y/n nearly argued with her. That there had to be something going on cause she had been feeling wrong about things since the night Dustin got home — since Will had started acting up. She wanted to argue that if El felt this strongly too, then it would be unmistakable. That something was going on.

But she didn't and she couldn't say why.

So here she and her friends now stood, hair clinging to their face in the humid summer rain, ready to investigate the newest mystery.

El's focus zeroed in on the door, and the muted click of the deadbolt unlocking itself reached their ears. And slowly, the red door crept open to reveal their figures.

Despite her fears, El stepped inside first with a newfound determination. Max lingered by Y/n, still adjusting to the reality of it all. Y/n's eyes catch her in a weak, knowing smile.

"Takes some getting used to, I know," said Y/n, reminded all too well of her last impromptu investigative adventure with El.

Max smiled a little after Y/n as she stepped inside before following in her footsteps, closing the door behind them.

The front entrance was short, and spit the girls out in a narrow, olive-green hallway lined with family portraits. Each of them featured a familiar face, the same face they had seen from the lifeguard info board: Heather Holloway.

As they trailed the halls, their soaked faces reflected in the glass of an all too happy family photo.

"This is her house," Max realizes.

"What?" El asks. That couldn't be right, could it? But Billy...

"Heather's house," Max confirmed.

"Billy's car was out front," Y/n mumbles. "Do you think he—"

The sound of a woman's laughter echoed out, pulling their attention down the hall. It was then they realized, they could hear the distant sound of music playing mingled in.

It didn't take them long to find the front living room. Coasters holding empty glasses were left forgotten on the coffee table, and from around the corner in the connecting dining room, they found a most unlikely sight.

Billy at the dining room table with the older couple from the photo; Heather's parents. They were all laughing and smiling. With Billy. It was as if they had somehow stepped into a creepy, picture-perfect, alternate reality.

"Isn't that cute, huh?" Billy had been saying, his face lit up in a friendly smile that didn't seem right to them.

The woman's laughter died out in an amused giggle, wine glass hung from her hand after a lazy sip. "He's so funny!"

Her voice trialed when all three pairs of eyes land on the three girls, gawking more or less in the living room.

Billy's smile never faltered when his eyes landed on his sister and her friends.

"Max!"

The couple at the dinner table bore vastly different reactions, despite the common shock.

"We didn't mean to... barge in," Max explains, still a little stunned with her brother's sudden unusual behavior. "We tried to knock, but... maybe you didn't hear us over the storm."

Billy didn't answer, he only stared blankly ahead as he chewed on his mouthful of steak. Mr. Holloway didn't let them off so easily.

"I'm sorry," he snarks, speaking to Billy as if they weren't really there. "who is this dripping all over my living room right now?"

Y/n bites her tongue. Her eyes were unable to pry themselves from the complete stranger calling himself Billy, wracking her brain as to how this could be the same person who had attacked Lucas. The one she heard horror stories about from Max, the one who shot her annoyed, rotten looks her way whenever she visited. Y/n could only imagine how Max must be feeling.

"I'm sorry," Billy let out a charming laugh, gesturing between his dinner hosts. "Janet, Tom, this... is my sister Maxine."

"Oh!" Chirped the woman, Janet, with a smile, further annoying her husband.

Billy rose from the dinner table and made his way towards the three utterly baffled teenagers in a tone so unsettlingly casual and upbeat.

"What on earth are you doing here?" He asks. "Is something wrong?"

"We just... wanted to make sure everything was okay," Max stammered, just as confused as her friends.

A look of concern flashed over Billy's face as he inched closer. "Okay? Why wouldn't it be okay?"

El had never officially met Billy, but she knew in her core how wrong everything felt. This was not the same man who she had heard so many awful things about, and this certainly was not the man who she had found in the void. Like her friends, El didn't know what to do. All she could do was watch, rooted to the spot right of Max as Billy seems to loom over them, his eyes drilled into Max's.

El couldn't take it anymore. This had to be an act. After all, El knew all too well how to spot when someone was playing nice. When someone was hiding their real intentions. She had learned how to it long ago in the lab.

"Where is she?" El all but growls.

His eyes snap to El, and she could have sworn she almost saw that mask break.

"I'm sorry," he said slowly. "Where is who?"

"Well, they're a little burnt, I'm sorry,"

All eyes turn to the chipper young girl striding in with a tray of cookies in her hands and a lingering smile on her face.

Heather.

The only troubled thing about her was the crisp cinnamon cookies in her hands. She had trailed off upon noticing the three young visitors.

"Heather!" Billy smiles, welcoming her as if she was an old friend.

El looked like she was seeing a ghost.

"This is my sister, Maxine," Billy chirps, turning back to the three confused girls. "And I'm sorry," he says to El, with an almost edge to his voice. "I did not quite catch your name."

El finally tore her eyes away from Heather, her mind racing. She might not have understood how she could be standing here, with Billy, as if nothing had happened, but she knew it had. Billy was hiding something, even if Max couldn't see it.

With a determined look in her eyes, she matches his steely gaze.

"El."

His smile, so fake it reminded her of plastic, never wavered. The unnamed look in his eyes flaring up.

"El." He hums. "What a pleasure it is to meet you El. And of course, who could possibly forget..."

El's stomach turns when Billy looks to her right. His movements were stiff and smooth, like a marionette puppet on strings, his eyes unblinking landed on her for the first time since they arrived.

"Y/n."

The sound of her name on his tongue made her skin crawl, his voice all the way in the back of his throat.

She was soaked to the bone, but the only chill Y/n felt came from Billy's unwavering stare on her. It was then she realized what was off about him, other than his unusual behavior. It was his eyes. Everything about him and his actions were warm and inviting, completely unbothered.

But his eyes... They were cold. Far away, and detached. And as he looked at her now, that crack in his mask was undeniable. And it widened to reveal something else entirely.

An untamed, hidden rage.

Billy inched closer to her in a single, nearly unnoticeable step.

And so did El. Wedging herself in between her friend and Billy.

Y/n hadn't said a word since seeing him, and she was glad she hadn't. But she didn't need to. The look in her eyes spoke volumes, challenging the look in his.

Hardly any time had passed, she realized, when Billy shakes his head with a laugh.

"Why, it's only my little sister's best friend." Her glare remains, and he glances at the Holloways. "Now please," he chirped, his gaze hardening as it zeroes in on El. "What is it you ladies were saying?"

There was a newer edge to his voice, a smug one. Almost as if he knew he had them cornered.

"You were..." They flicker back over Y/n, before resting back on El. "looking for somebody?"

El looked between him and Heather, her brain scrambling to make things connect. None of it added up. The void never lied to her. It had been misleading, and troublesome more often than not but everything she saw was real.

"I-I..."

So why wasn't this?

"I saw you—"

"Your manager." Max cuts in, quickly grabbing Heather's attention away from El. "At the pool. He said you guys didn't come into work today, so we got worried."

"Heather wasn't feeling so hot today," eases Billy. "so we thought we'd take the day off and nurse her back to health."

With that same, haunting smile, he looks back at Heather with a pointed look in his eye.

"But you're feeling just fine right now. Aren't ya Heather?"

"I'm feeling so much better," she assured.

Billy returns to the girls, calculated but smiling.

"Do you girls want a cookie?" Heather asks, finally managing to tear Y/n's challenging glare off of Billy. "They're fresh out of the oven,"

Thunder rumbled as Y/n looked her over, the booming in the sky matching what she felt thudding in her chest. Y/n couldn't help but feel like Hansel and Grettle as she looked upon the delicious tray of cookies, held out before her with a sickly sweet smile she couldn't at all bring herself to trust.

If she wasn't hurt... just what was going on?

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Disparaged and thoroughly disturbed, the girls pick up their bikes where they had stashed them at the bottom of the porch steps.

Out of habit, Y/n swipes away the rain on her seat as if it would make a difference. The only thing she succeeds in doing is spreading the water all over the leather, and she sighed, accepting her mind was elsewhere.

Billy was up to something. She just wished she knew what.

As she watches El join Max down the lawn, Y/n stands rooted to the spot, rain pouring down her back as she lingers.

She could feel him watching her.

And when she looked over her shoulder to see him leaning in the doorway, he was.

Her worried gaze hardened in spite as she stared back. His lips spring into a forced smile, his eyes still a dark nothing. Finally, she turns, hidden under the deep blue of her raincoat before retreating into the night with El and Max.

The smile fell away from his face as quick as she looked away, and a poisonous scowl quickly took its place. In those same stiff movements, he stepped behind the door as he closed it, lingering behind the windowpane as his eyes locked on their retreating forms.

His heart pounds dangerously loud in his chest as he watches her.

He feels his brow furrow, revolted.

He knew he had recognized her since she first stepped inside — he could feel the heat lingering from down the hall just as he remembered it.

The pain wasn't just fresh, it was still there.

He could still feel it, as searing and unforgiving as it had been that night.

《•••》

The world bent at her will; everything not screwed to the walls or floors broke loose as the cabin moved around all inside it. It was a movement so forceful and demanding, it moved all of Hawkins. A guttural battle cry pierced the air as her powers exploded into an unstoppable force that had awakened her full potential.

《•••》

He watched in a mixture of fear and hatred as she joined her friends in mounting their bikes. And for a moment, the small, dying part of Billy tries to understand why until he loses himself in another unfamiliar memory.

He had been having them all day — seeing her — all day.

《•••》

Her s/c skin began to glow like a star, the cosmic force at work pumping hard through her veins. The three figures watched in awe as she comes alive, all the while his small and trembling frame twisting and kicking as he is engulfed in searing pain.

《•••》

Fury pumped fast through his veins like ice, desperate to cool his already freezing body. He was filled with a powerful cocktail of anger, frustration, and terror. A feeling Billy was used to. But this...

Somehow, this was also something else entirely. And it was all Billy felt now and all he remembers before the world goes black again.

His pupils dilate and closing in around them are several black veins that cloud the whites of his eyes as he remembers.

《•••》

His screams vibrate with his body before his small frame shrinks in on itself like a dead spider. He straightens in seconds, his head, hands, and feet now glued to the bed as he bends in one final arc, his chest rising to the heavens. His mouth opens in another scream and a billowing cloud of inky black smoke escapes. It twists and unravels out from between his lips like a pitch-black tornado.

《•••》

There was no more denying it.

It was her.

He couldn't have forgotten her or her poisonous touch if he had tried.

It was bad enough that pesky, foolish child to have awakened him — to have shut him out — was here and had been watching him.

But she would have her uses. A means to an end.

All in good time.

But the other? The one to have made him feel a pain worse than death?

Well, the Mind Flayer was determined to return the favor.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

As Will mingled with the dirt beneath him, the storm pounding against his back soaking him to the bone, he feels it again.

The same feeling he had felt the night before Dustin's return, the day of, and now...

Well, there was no denying it. No more running. This was real, and it wasn't something so easily shaken.

A great change was upon him and his friends, a change none of them were prepared for.

Shakily, he pulls himself to his feet, not entirely sure if the voice calling his name was real.

"What happened? Are you okay?"

With a faraway look in his eyes, Will turns to his awaiting friends as his stomach plummets beneath the earth.

"He's back."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"He was singin' Bye bye Miss American Pie..."

Billy returns to the dinner table where Heather and her family awaits, the record player blasting an upbeat, melancholy tune to fill the silence.

"Is everything alright?" Heather asks, as he returns to his seat.

"Yes. Everything's fine," he assures.

"Your sister really didn't want to stay?" Janet asks with a frown.

"No, she's just not... you know, really a people person."

"Well," she says, fingers twitching numbly with the napkin in her lap. "I just don't like the idea of them out there in the storm like that."

"Oh, they'll be fine,"

Nervously, she reaches for her glass, not expecting her movements to be so sluggish. She yelps softly when her knuckles collide with the glass, knocking the wine out onto the table cloth.

"I told you to slow down on that wine, Janet," Tom grumbles from across the table.

"Yes, darling," she mumbles, embarrassed, as she dabs at the spill.

"Are you okay, Mommy?" Asks Heather.

"Yes, I'm— I'm just..." she stutters, doing her best to shake away the dizziness swarming her brain. "feeling a little lightheaded is all."

Billy boredly takes a bite of his food, sharing a discreet, fleeting look with Heather.

"Hm," Tom hums knowingly. "It's all that wine."

"I'm sorry," she says, fighting hard to keep her eyes open. "Um, if you'll excuse me, I'm just gonna go upstairs and lie down for a bit."

It takes all her effort to pull herself out of the chair, and she has to use the arms to hoist herself up but she eventually does the job. But she never reaches the end of the living room before she collapsed with a thud.

"Janet?" Tom asks, jumping to his feet.

"...half-time air was sweet perfume..."

Billy pulls a small glass vile from the floor with little interest. All the while, Tom threw himself to floor by his wife's side in a panic.

"Janet? Janet? Janet!"

With as little enthusiasm as Billy, Heather rose from her seat taking the wine bottle in hand. The record player continued its song louder than ever as Billy tipped the bottle of chloroform into the tablecloth napkin.

"Janet!" He turns to his approaching daughter. "Call 911! Call 91—"

Heather had struck him in the head with the wine bottle before he could finish.

"...never got the chance..."

Billy rose from his seat, leaning himself against the wall of the dining room as he hands Heather the napkin. She was advancing on her father, painstakingly slow as he tried so hard to crawl away to safety. But like his wife, moments before, the world had become a blur.

And it remained so even when he felt the sharp heel of his daughters shoe piecing his skin. Her fingers yanked at his hair, pulling his bloodied face out of the carpet. Before he could make sense of anything, he heard her detached voice in his ear.

"I'm really sorry about this, Daddy, but it'll all be over soon, I promise."

"We started singin' Bye bye Miss America Pie"

He tried to scream, but his voice died out in the chloroform soaked rag and the world went black.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Emergency Release Fund:

The Marsha P. Johnson Institute:

"Your contribution will be used to post bail for people held in NYC jails, prioritizing BIPOC trans people, medically high-risk or otherwise marginalized populations, and anyone within the broader LGBTQ+ spectrum. Additionally, we assist with ICE detention immigration bonds for LGBTQ+ detainees."

Black Visions Collective:

"Inspired by activist and self-identified drag queen Marsha P. Johnson, The Marsha P. Johnson Institute is dedicated to championing solutions for Black people in the US by employing black trans people, building more strategic campaigns, launching winning initiatives, etc."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"Based in Minnesota, the Black Visions Collective centers their work in healing and transformative justice principles, aiming to develop Minnesota's Black leadership and create conditions for long term success and transformation."

Taglist:

@dickkwad @iblesstherainsdown-in-africa @miscellaneoustoasts @happyandlonely-blog @peeperparkour @ba-responds ​ @bibliophilesquared @blogforhoes @witch-of-all-things-soft @shawkneecaps @whothefuckstolemykeds @daughter-of-the-stars11 ​ @stranger-things4 @kpopanimegirl ​ @nightbu-g @lozzybowe @gizmofishersupremacy @spiderbitch69420

❥ Let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist! ❥

[musedblues]

A Taste Of Honey (Part 2)

summary: A 1920's Deacy au! In which the reader, who comes from a family heavily involved in the American temperance movement, meets John, a bootlegger from overseas.

a/n: Well here it is. I'm fully aware interest may be completely lost in this fic but I'm very proud to have finished it. Im not sure where my writing journey will go from here. All I know is that this has been a very long time comin'... enjoy if you dare!

part 1 - 2

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

"If anything happens, Deacy, I'll have your head!"

Ivan shook his fist from the front porch, illuminated by the light flooding from the opened front door. 

"I'll be fine!" You dismissed, skipping toward the car, still getting used to the sway of the heavy golden dress you borrowed from Alice. 

"I'm talking about my car!" Ivan shouted, correcting you. John let out a laugh at the remark, and gave your brother a nod, while he opened the passenger door, nudging you toward it.

Your brother and his wife had loaned the essentials to send you and John away for the party a man you never met was throwing. It was a small thrill, the prospect of such fun to be had, in comparison to the sickening exhilaration that coursed through you at the thought of spending any kind of evening at John's side. And the fact he'd asked you to. 

The ride was quiet and short, but dragged on with each new glance you dared to steal at the man driving. Both of John's hands relaxed on the wheel. A hint of that deadly smile on his lips. 

By the time you got to where you were going, you'd been so preoccupied with thoughts of the man by your side, that you'd nearly forgotten your plans for the evening.

If you had any expectations, they were blown clear away. Before you was an estate made up of too many windows to count, draped in vines and hanging lights. 

Even the crunch of the gravel that decorated the winding path you entered into sounded oddly elegant.

Inside was a fever dream of all the things you'd imagined on your short journey into the threshold. Across a giant winding staircase and below the shimmering chandelier were people from all walks of life, crammed together to have one grand time. Different music came from different corners and wild laughter filled the gaps, if there were any. 

And before you, John led the way. You couldn't recall the moment your hand found the bend of his arm, or if he cared that you'd reached out to him as he weaved through the crowd. But the grin on his face when he turned back to catch your eye had to be a good sign; despite the way your heart nearly burst at his look. 

John led you past hoards of people and trays of half full glasses. There was only one way to go, further inside the home, but John seemed to move as if he had an idea of where he was headed. Sure enough when the pair of you met the landing of the staircase, the host of the party was there to greet you. 

The host's initial booming hello was focused mostly on John. And without more than a glance your way, the party thrower shuffled John away from your side, insistent on sharing a chat with him on the top landing of the stairs.

You were left to linger, stalling at the base of the stairs and studying the crowd around you. Girls in beaded skirts and men with slicked back hair passed you by flashing well meaning but entirely distracted smiles. 

You'd felt mesmerized enough by the scene to slowly start to drift into it yourself. Reaching to brush your finger across meticulously carved bookcases and daring to take a glass from the extended hand of the first person to smile directly at you. 

You reached for the stem of the blue stained flute, and managed to make your talk small enough for the interested lad to wander far off. But offers kept coming. Glasses of this and that shoved in your face. You accepted the offers more out of respectful politeness than any eagerness to lose your wits. 

By the time you lost track of everyone's kind gestures, and a man was leading you closer to a table decorated with cards and chips, another hand intervened.

John was back, letting his fingers curl around your shoulder and nudging you in another direction of his choosing. Thrilling as it was for you, to have been handled just so by him, you were a little taken aback. 

Funny how after the sips of this and that, you felt steady as ever. But one look from John and your knees threatened to give out and all your cares too.

In the middle of the packed house, with John looking at you that way, you felt like the only person alive. And somehow this all added up to equal your new found courage to speak a little bolder than usual.

"Are you on strict orders from Ivan to steer me clear of any strange attention or do you maybe fancy me a little, John?" You dared wonder. You almost didn't care of the answer. So long as he kept guiding you through this evening with a strong steady hand.

"Both." John seemed to decide, continuing to guide you along. The pair of you had reached the patio doors by now, and the cool night breeze rushed through in perfect time to ease the heat that had rushed to your cheeks at John's response. 

"Let's go see the gardens!" You decided at first glance of the sprawling greenery that surrounded the estate. 

John let you tug him along, darting between couples and groups who'd come to ruin the fresh air with all their smoke.

He followed along, a very good sport, smiling as you pointed out flowers and trees you didn't realize could bloom in this part of the country. As you turned from marveling over a certain rose's colour, John seemed almost enraptured. Maybe not by your subject but certainly by some part of you. His gaze was fixed, and he seemed to bite back a wider grin. And your already lightened spirits seemed all the more weightless as your eye's met his. 

"If you keep looking at me like that, John, I'm going to have to kiss you." You let a small laugh escape, as the foreigners' expressions remained steadfast. 

He'd kissed you only the night before, on your brother's staircase. It was the only reason you felt free of regret enough to lean in and brush your lips against his again. John reciprocated fondly, letting one of his hands creep around the bend of your waist. You never realized it was possible to feel so happy. 

"Did you do that because you've been drinking? Or do you perhaps fancy me a little?"  John mocked your earlier statement, when the kiss died and your eyes locked. 

"Both." You smiled, charmed enough to try it a second time. But this kiss was broken much sooner than you reckoned any kiss ought to be.

"You know I'll be leaving soon. Just a week's more time." John killed the mood with a few words. You glanced to your feet and muttered understanding, noticing his hand still clutched your waist. 

"I just don't want to see you disappointed." John spoke up after a beat of heavy silence, and the words seemed hard for him to piece together, but he spoke them all the while. 

"Then don't disappoint me." You shrugged, glancing back up to the perfectly handsome man, who's smile seemed sad now.

"Come on, then." John said, moving his hand to find your own. "Not even I get to enjoy parties like this too often."

And you let him guide you back inside. You let the sun set on all the pretty flowers. And you let yourself feel grateful for the rest of the evening at John's side. 

///

He rode the train home with you the next day, sitting across the bench from you, and not saying very much. 

You felt the need to chatter at the pass of every few minutes. You got John to ramble a little about the other places he was due to visit in the states. The guy only one more stop at some.fancy hotel after your town, in the big city, next week. Then he'd head home. 

After explaining as much, the man went quiet again. But you couldn't let the silence last. It was as if you didn't work to hold his attention, it would be lost the next time you looked up. Maybe that wasn't true. But you couldn't risk letting John slip away so easily. Not when your heart practically lept from your chest each time his eyes met yours. If it wasn't meant to be, then so be it. But you were going to fight for the chance that you had, while it was still within reach. 

So when the train pulled into your neighborhood, and John stepped onto the platform, you stopped him waving goodbye. 

"Will you be back? To our shop, I mean?" 

John took a step closer toward you with a very serious expression that softened just before he spoke. 

"I wouldn't dare leave before telling you goodbye." He promised, in a low, sweet manner. 

John pressed his lips to your temple for one brief heavenly moment. And then he turned away to hail a cab. 

At least now, in your terrible mix of emotions, something very bright and warm burned within you. And you got to believe, for a moment, that the same reigned true for John.

///

But all was not well at home. How could it ever be? 

Your mother was horrified that you'd up and left for the night without so much as a word about it to her, and to your brother's home no less. 

Her disdain for her first born left you sick to your stomach more and more each day. 

But this was nothing new. You knew to give the woman a showy apology and to stay silent as she confined you to the kitchen table as she lectured about morality. Tomorrow things would be back to her regular sort of unhappiness. 

What really stopped you cold in your tracks that night, though, was the sight of your father stood in the doorway of your room with his arms crossed.

To bring a frown to his face was your greatest fear. For he'd loved you and shown it. And you dreamed of doing good by him every chance you got. As you stalled in the hall and waited for him to speak his mind, you hoped this would only be a reprimand for causing your mother unnecessary grief, for her madness made you all ten fold more miserable. 

"I know you've been with your brother..." Your father nodded with understanding, not looking right at you as he spoke calmly. "But that also means you've been with John. And I don't like that."

Oh. Ivan had warned you this might be your fathers mood. But you'd ignored his warning in hopes it wouldn't have been true. 

"You know John!" You countered, "You work with him! You're telling me you get to work with a man you don't like but I can't see him?"

"He's a fine man. But all wrong for you." 

"You're supposed to be the one who lets me find these things out on my own." You reminded. Your mother did plenty of directing you from day to day. Your father knew of what you spoke and nodded reluctantly, uncrossing his arms and looking you square in the eye. 

"Well not this time. Stay away from John, you hear me? He'll be gone before you know it anyhow." 

Your father rested a hand on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze as if to ease the blow of his demands. But as he walked back down the hall, the uncertainty that had stormed within you since John left you at the train station, raged wilder than before. 

What a jam... 

///

There was nothing stopping you from returning back to the depths of the coffee shop, the next time Ivan started up his business. 

Your mother was sound asleep, and your father was already there, serving the last of the coffee up top. Once you arrived you knew he'd be cross but unable to march you away. 

So you slipped on your finest dress and twirled down the rickety staircase that led to the party your brother charged for. 

There were already a good deal of friends jam packed into the small basement; dancing to swells coming from the gramophone and lining up to grab a glass from Ivan's makeshift bar. Your brother flashed a grin when he saw you sauntering in, but his smile turned somewhat more into a worried grimace when he saw you march up the man near the end of those overturned book shelves.

So was everyone concerned over your connection with John? Even the man who'd held your interest sort of frowned at the sight of you demanding his attention. 

John had his fingers curled around a glass. You took it from his grasp and the action made the bootlegger grin oh so slightly. But his frown returned after you slammed back the swallow of liquor in his glass- unsure yourself by what had come over you.

"Hey, come on, don't be that girl." Ivan called to you from behind the bar. You couldn't be sure if he was commenting on the way you'd claimed Deacy's drink for your own, or on the way you seemed too eager to get the stuff in your system. 

Before you could snap back at your brother's comment, though, John spoke up.

"Don't worry about it," He insisted in the charming draw of his. "Just pour me another." And as the man who you adored stepped past you to hold your brothers attention, John sort of let his hand brush across your waist. And he left his fingers to linger along your sides as Ivan, disgruntled, poured another for John. 

"Is that all you cut in line for?" Ivan sighed, nodding toward the few people, impatiently waiting to fill their glasses, stood in a row behind John. 

And you hadn't really considered this before your brothers prompting. But at his asking, you were moved to pull out a twenty dollar bill from your coin purse, and demand he give you your money's worth.

Ivan was reluctant, going on for a bit how once your father spotted you here, like this, that he'd surely be disappointed. And you didn't want that, did you? But little did Ivan know, you'd already disappointed your father. And you were determined to get something you wanted tonight, one way or another.

So with a sigh, Ivan poured you a tall drink and informed you were good to come back for a few more, to match your payment. 

So began your evening of ignoring John's worried remarks about slowing down. And as you kept the drinks coming you weren't even sure why. Perhaps it was to test your very own limits. To somehow prove you were more in control of your path than all the others who seemed to have something to say about the direction of your life. 

And damn John, for the way he kept his eyes locked on yours between the distance he silently kept insisting upon. And damn him for helping you find your balance, despite the steps he kept taking away from you. For letting his hands stay secure around your waist, long after you'd straightened up from stumbling.

And damn your father. He had to have been behind John's change in attitude. From the moment you'd met, John had been a flirt. And steadily, his quips kept getting bolder, until the last party you attended. Ivan's rambling about your fathers dislike of your fondness of John had to be what caused him to step back.

And damn your father, for finding you all dizzy in John's well meaning clutch, now. Your dad pointed to the door and demanded you find your way out of this scene. 

"I know you're not taking her back to your hole in the wall you've been staying at, in the state she's in." You father grumbled in a low curse, his eyes searing into John's. You tightened your hold on the fellow, shooting your father a glare all the same. He couldn't tell you where to go or with who. 

"Take her upstairs if ya like. But don't step foot past the alley. I'll be up in a minute."

After a shared look, John moved, pulling you alongside him. You moved,  happily leaning into him, disgruntled by the course of the evening all the while. Even Ivan seemed to shoot you a sorry grin when he noticed you being marched away, from across the room.

The alley was a little cold. But John's figure was warm. And as you followed his lead pausing just beyond the backdoor, you could feel this chance waiting to slip away. 

"You like me, don't you?" You wondered, turning to face the man you'd been so taken with since the moment he showed up at your door.

"Of course." John nodded, and answered so softly and with such care truly felt as though it were melting. 

"Then kiss me, John." 

"You're drunk."

"But we may never get the chance again. One or both of us are about to be beheaded. Either way, that'll make kissing hard to do from now on." You implored, letting your head fall to rest precariously on his shoulder as you finished your plea. You heard John let out a somber little chuckle as he dared to tighten his arm around you. 

And then you heard a shuffle beyond the backdoor, and let out a sigh at the timing of your father coming to ruin everything. 

But instead, the door bursts open to reveal Rita in a fluster. Her usually perfect makeup streaking down her cheeks. At the sight of the girl you'd always admired, a pang shot through your chest. But not immediately for her upset, whatever it was, but because you realized you'd failed to see your friend here all night, until now.

Before you could apologize, or ask what the matter was, Rita sucked in a breath and let out a string of words for you. 

"He was a snitch. He-he told my parents everything." She stammered, wild eye'd. 

"Who?" You begged to know, having turned away from John, but not having totally turned your attention away from his hand still rested on the small of your back. 

"The pastor's son. Cole. He- he said he was alright with this whole thing. But he... He told your mother. She's on her way here, she's-" 

Sound of a car roared closer, and the engine died away, drowning out the last of Rita's warning. For a second, you thought of making a break for it. But then the click of heels on the pavement seemed to count down your fate.

And then she stood there before you. Your mother, dressed to the nines, complete with her usual scowl.

You couldn't let go of John. Your nails seemed to dig into his side on their own accord. The pair of you stared ahead to the woman who gave you life, and kept you from living it all the same. She stood and stared too, almost like she was giving you a chance. And that was the scariest bit of it all. 

As time seemed to pause, John let your name escape him in a nervous breath, like a warning. Trying to alert you that your hanging off him wouldn't help. But there was no way you were gonna let him go now. 

It was then your mother decidedly sauntered up to the two of you, letting her eyes search your from the top of your head to the tips of your toes and back up again. 

When she let out a scof, you realized you'd been holding your own breath. And when you opened your mouth, willing oxygen in, or words of mitigation out, your mother decided what was next. 

Before you could blink, one of her strong hands was digging into your arm, and she was tearing you away from John's gentle hold.

And despite his caution earlier, you could feel John's hand still trying to keep hold of you, as you were yanked away. The sensation of being taken from the man's clutch was horrid, but what was more painful was the feeling of his fingers trying and failing to keep hold.

So when your mother tossed you aside, toward the brick of the coffee house wall, you were hardly affected; not like you'd only just been.

And when you looked up, after steadying yourself and dusting your stone imprinted hands of dust, John was stepping closer toward your mother. He shouted something at her, about how she didn't have the right to treat you just so. But before he could finish defending you, he was shut down.

Your mothers hand flew across his cheek, and the sound of the slap and John's shocked hiss echoed through the alley and caused something vile to rise in your gut. 

You pushed yourself from the wall then, indifferent to the dizziness you felt, desperate to reach out to the man you'd been so fond of; calling his name.

But your mother was there, more sober and more angry. And she halted your mission to make it to your man, digging her nails into your sides and forcing you in the other direction. 

"John I'm sorry, John..." You called past the lump in your throat. That was when Ivan came upon the scene. He darted from the doorway and did his damnedest to block your mothers storming off. 

"You're a monster. Let her go!" Your brother fummed, as your mother managed to storm around her first born, pushing you along. 

"I'm her mother. And I'll do as I see fit to keep my child out of harm's way." Your mother stated, almost calmly.

"You're no mother. You're a walking nightmare. She's not your plaything-"

"Word's won't fix this, Ivan." You said, reminding him that his defying of the woman only ever made her ten times more evil.

"I'll pray for your children, son." Your mother nodded, opening the passenger door of her car, and flinging you toward the bench. "They're going to need it."

You didn't look to Ivan, as your mother drove off. You didn't dare look to John. You only hung your head and cried silent tears while your mother peeled down the road. And the whole way home, she spat vile things about you and Ivan. Her own children. About your father, her beloved husband. And aout John, a man who, since his arrival, had only tried to help out.

You let your tears dry when the car pulled up to the house you'd never really felt at home in. And went willingly from the ride to the door, knowing you would get very far in the countryside if you dashed away now. You'd need a wiser plan. Still, your mother dug her claws into your arm and marched you up the staircase to your room, like you were a girl no oler to know better. 

"Stay here." She demanded after pushing your further into your bedroom, her fist around the doorknob, establishing total control. 

You expected to be banished here. What you didn't expect, however, was the return of your mother with boards to nail against your windows. You might've laughed if you weren't the one being all locked up. Wasn't this sort of thing only supposed to happen in twisted fairy tales? You're life was twisted enough, you supposed.

She left you there, trapped in the space that was meant to be your own, meant to be safe. As you sulked in silence, the memory of your mothers assault on John haunted you. The horrid sound her action resulted in. His gut wrenching reaction, the small hiss, his stalling in the place she put him in. 

And the way he watched you being dragged off, helpless and sorry for you. It was pathetic, the situation you found yourself in. So you let your tears bubble up again and you cried and cried; until exhaustion set in. Tomorrow was a new day....

///

There was a pounding at your door, loud enough to jolt you from slumber.

"Open up!" The sound of your father calling from beyond the hall stirred you fully conscious. In one swift dash you were stood before your door, jiggling the handle, feeling silly for hoping that would work. 

"She's locked it." You groaned. "Do you have a key?" Your wonder was nearly frantic, and so were you- trying still to twist the knob. At the sound of your fathers grumbled cursing, you began to bustle about for some hair pins, but quickly realized you wouldn'tve had a clue to how to finess the tools into working like another. 

Then you heard your mother. She  shouted down the hall, telling your father to get out of her sight, to leave you be. Shouting that you were better off confined. That you'd be locked away until she found the right reformatory to ship you off to. You knew she meant it. You knew she'd send you away without a care of your consent. 

"She's not a child anymore. You can't just treat her like a bad pet who needs training."

"I'm her mother. And I'll be damned if I don't do what's best for my child. I failed the first time. God knows you never cared about either of them like I care." Your mother spat, breaking your heart and your fathers too no doubt. 

Their bickering lasted a while longer, and you spun away from listening in to force yourself to think. There had to be a way out of here, out of this life. There had to be a way to a better world. 

And the best you could do was wait.  Until dinner. Wait until your mother brought you a tray of soup and bread, trading a few put downs before she twirled from your room. And then you checked the time, and counted down the hours to her always predictable nightly routine.

And you waited still, until your bedside clock ticked well passed after midnight.

And then you used a lamp to pry the nails away from windows. You could tell her bedroom light was out by leaning against the sill.

With no time to spare, you tossed a change of clothes in your purse, and the envelope stashed with tips you'd been saving for over a year. 

It wasn't a very long way down. With the help of a lattice panel and the dark of night, you found grassy freedom in no time. Your heart beat heavy as you crept toward the road. It wouldn't be safe, not until the city lights were in view. But your shoes were flat and your hopes were high.

Miraculously, no one stopped you. Not the truck who zoomed by somewhere still deep along the dark country road. Not the school kids on the edge of town, tossing bottles off the bridge. And not the sleepy clerk at the desk of the hotel you raced into. 

"Be here, be here, be here..." You prayed under your breath, hurrying to the room you remembered John booking. And right as you rounded the hall, the door of the room you'd been in search of opened. 

But the squeak of wheels gave away the presence of a maid, pushing her cart of cleaning supplies out into the hall.

"He's gone?" You sighed, stopping at the end of the hall, your feet aching after moving so ceaselessly through the night. 

"Whoever was here left a while ago." The maid stopped for a moment, looking to you with a sorry expression. "Around dinner time."

"Right. Is there a phone at the desk?" 

The maid nodded and wished you luck, and you thanked her for it. You'd need as much as you could get. 

The clerk who was still kicked back, sleeping, startled at your ringing the bell on the desk. And though they didn't seem pleased at your begging to use the phone, they let you.

It only rang twice. 

"Hello?" Your fathers voice was a pleasant surprise. Of course he'd gone to stay with Ivan, in the midst of all this chaos. 

"Dad, Im-"

"Where are you? Does she know you've gone? I'll come fetch you."

"No." You implored, holding up a hand as if he could have seen your insistence.  "No I've phoned to let you know I'm taking the train to the city. I've got to find John before he leaves. And I'm sure of where he is. I've got to try." 

John had told you where he was headed next, on your last train ride together. And you'd felt silly for keeping the details at the front of your memory... until now.

The other line went quiet for a beat. And you'd fully prepared yourself for your fathers disapproval. But then he just said,

"Okay." Your father seemed to realize the weight of your feelings, you thought, by his tone of voice. "I knew you'd get out of there, eventually." And once more, you could tell by his tone he wasn't just referring to the room you'd been locked in for the last couple nights. "Phone us again, when you're safe and sound. I know you will be."

At his blessing, tears sprung in your eyes. You were going to go no matter what. But to have your father on your side made you even more determined to fly out of this hotel, and to the next one you knew John was meant to be staying at. 

///

Booking a train ticket was nearly impossible. And if you had spent much longer pleading with the station, you would have missed the bus pulling up down the block, offering rides in the right direction. 

The couple hour journey was maddening, and thrilling, and terrifying all at once. You were on your way to change your life. No matter what John said, or how he greeted you; no matter if he fell into your embrace or left you in the hotel lobby, you'd never go back the way you'd come from. 

And luckily, you managed to find the hotel John had briefly spoken of, without much trouble. It was the grandest of the business booming on this side of the city. Folks flooded in and out of the revolving doors, as you considered the past set of days that had led you to standing before here with such an erratic heartbeat.

But you only stayed paused for a moment. Your feet were darting inside before your mind caught up with how close you were to the mission at hand. 

The lobby was just as full of people as the revolving doors had been, lines forming near the desk, groups fighting to fit their luggage into golden elevators. 

And though you hated to be the person you'd decided to be, you dashed to the end of the front desk, hoping the clerk would spare you a minute at most. 

"I just need to know if someone's booked a room." You begged to know, shooting sorry looks to the people you'd cut in front of. The clerk seemed to have no patients for you, but miraculously, another set of hands swooped in to help. Some nice older woman flipped through the bookings to find John's name, after you gave it, and came up short.

"What about Deacy?" You hoped all of a sudden, quickly beginning to lose your ambition the longer she shook her head.

You'd done what you could, rudely so. And scurried away so your unwelcome presence would no longer be in the way of things.

And as you sauntered away, giving one last pathetic glance about the crowded lobby, you reminded yourself that it was all alright. You might not have found John. But you were finally free.

And then you pushed through the revolving door. And past your ghostly reflection, you spotted a familiar set of grey eyes. 

John seemed to wait until your gaze registered his own, before spinning around to make it indoors. You ignored the chilly night air and pushed on until you were right back where you'd just started to leave from. 

There he was, before you as real and sure as the sun and moon.

"You never gave me a proper goodbye." You reprimanded through a growing smile. He'd promised to give you a farewell, once. 

"How about a rain check? I've got lot's more important things to tell you, as a matter of fact." The man you'd come to adore smiled then, and offered his arm. You held on without hesitation and managed to follow his lead through the crowd, to the room he'd been staying in.

It was a humble little space, his suitcase opened on the coffee table and a yellow lamp left on by the window. John shut the door behind you with a soft click, loosening the pale blue tie round his neck, as you glanced about the room.

"I came by. Your place, I mean." John admitted, leaning against the closed door, as you turned from admiring the wall art to face him.

"You did?"

And then John said your father had dragged the Brit along, that night he'd knocked at your door. John was outside with high hopes. But your mother had caught your father before you'd even known there was a plan. 

"So you did try to come and tell me goodbye." You laughed a little, kind of glad he wasn't able to. This reality where you'd run to him was much more befitting to the situation, you thought. 

"Well, no." John pointed, not laughing along with you. "I never really wanted to say goodbye."

You stood there, taking in the sight of him. Watching John's brows oh so slightly furrow upward, hope pouring from his expression. You considered the gleam in his eye and the way he slowly seemed to shift his posture a little closer to you. 

"So we haven't got to part ways in a hurry then?" You wondered. Asking more than if you could linger a while longer in his rented room.

John seemed to know what you were asking. He seemed relieved, too. His shoulders loosened as the man crossed the space between you, in no big hurry. It seemed the two of you had all the time in the world at your disposal, now. John took his time, reaching out to tuck away some loose hairs near your ear. And his smile grew steadily too. By the time the guy pressed a kiss to your lips, you'd been wondering if the dawn would be breaking any time soon.

But the longer John went on kissing you, the less you thought of the sunrise. As John enclosed you in his arms, all your thoughts were of the man you'd come to adore. 

And as laid next to him and closed your eyes to the rising sun, you couldn't recall ever having experienced such a bright morning. 

"So you're not too eager to head back home, yeah?" John asked, once you'd both stirred from a restful slumber.

"I think I found a much more suitable place to be." You smiled, referring to the spot you'd settled under John's arm. 

And it didn't take much convincing on his end for you to agree on catching the next boat across the pond. 

///

The other line rang so long you'd almost decided to hang up. Then your brother answered. 

"Helllooooo!" He sang in a chipper timbre, making you wonder if he'd been expecting you at exactly this time, or if he answered everyone that way.

"Well I was going to ask how you were but it seems you're so well I don't have to wonder." You laughed into the receiver. 

The morning was early, and a breeze blew back a sheer curtain, obscuring your view of the grey English morning. 

Ivan spent the next few minutes yaking about how glad he was to hear from you. And you were glad to listen. On your rather spontaneous journey overseas, you were bogged down for a brief moment, at the thought of being so far from your dear brother. But as he rambled in your ear now, you'd never felt closer to him.

Ivan asked how things were. He asked after John, and that mattered so much more to you than his concerns for your well being. And when you had had your fill of the attention being on you, you begged your brother to give you all the details of what happened after you ditched home.

He said your mother was as furious as expected. Said she tried to blame your brother and her husband for your running off. Said she tried to get the police to shut down the coffee house for hosting such an undignified business after hours.

"You should'a seen her face when she found out officer Willard was our most loyal customer." Ivan chuckled. 

"We did have to pay a fine, in the end, so she'd quit her raving. It was almost everything we'd saved away for the baby." 

Your brother sighed. And you cooed his name in commiseration. 

"But my friend who owns that estate, the one who threw that party John took you to," Ivan explained. "He was good enough to loan us a bit of cash to stash away." Your brother said the man tried to give the money away outright, as a thank you to Ivan for helping start up his own speakeasy of sorts. But Ivan was dead set on paying him back, one day.

"Now we can't decide to name the babe after him, or John." Ivan chuckled. 

"And what if it's a girl?" You mused. 

"That'll just have to be a surprise." Ivan said, and just then the line went dead. You called your brother's name with a little hope he'd come back to tell you more. 

But you didn't worry when the line went on buzzing. You'd see him and his darling wife and his child to be, one day. You'd see your father too, if he was still hiding out at your brothers place. Hell, maybe they'd all come over here. 

Maybe you'd build a life with John, in his humble little English flat. You certain felt at home, watching the guy of your fancy stay dreaming as the sun rose. 

John had been kind to you. He'd been your friend when he didn't have to be. He'd let you lean into him, and he laughed at your jokes. He invited you into his world and smiled wide the closer your ship rolled toward London. 

And he'd treated your shoes as if they'd always been stored in the middle of the welcome mat. John opened his space up to you, and asked every night for the first few weeks, if you were happy, if you needed anything more. Your answers were always yes and no. 

And he didn't need to ask for honey in his coffee anymore. You just knew to add a little in the warm cup you'd have ready near the place he liked to sit in the morning. 

It was familiar and it was sweet, and so was John. Maybe he liked honey in his tea, too. And dear God, how you prayed every year from here on out; got to be spent guessing at life alongside the man who'd thrilled you by wondering all your answers all along.

[ripples-of-thought]

Abortion in 1987

My junior year in high school I met a young man from a rival school during a New Year's Eve lock-in at a roller-skating rink. This is about what happened about 8 months later, just before my senior year.

Since I had a steady boyfriend, I started on "The Pill". My mother knew I was having sex with him and supported my decision to use birth control. At the time I was not living with her, so I went to Planned Parenthood. Although I could not have afforded them full price, PP allowed me to purchase them on a sliding scale. It worked well for months; however, as time passed I started to get a little sloppy about taking my pill on time every day. Some nights I'd forget altogether, and the next morning I'd swallow the previous night's pill with a prayer that this one time wouldn't be the one that got me pregnant. One month at the end of the summer, my period didn't show.

I was anxious about getting pregnant, so I got a home pregnancy test as soon as I was a week late. The next morning, I peed on the stick. One line was negative, two lines... yes, the two lines right there on the stick... that meant positive. I was pregnant. I told my boyfriend, the one I was "in love" with. He meant the world to me, and would be my rock. Since my menses were normally very regular, I was pretty sure there was no mistake, but before being able to do anything, I would need a doctor's confirmation anyway. Back to Planned Parenthood I went, where they were able to verify the results, again at a price even a high school student in the 'burbs could afford.

The fact that this doctor's visit, and the potentially life-changing nature of it, seemed so routine that, years after, I've nearly forgotten it, is a testament to the professionalism of the care I received at that clinic. Everything was calm that day. The anxiety of deliberation all came afterward.

I told my parents. Being a pregnant teenager is scary, but I had two parents who loved me, and a mother who told me she'd support whatever decision I made.

She very much wanted me to be able to follow my own heart and mind about this, and I admire and appreciate that. I knew the history of abortion in the USA, had seen Dirty Dancing, I knew other times and other families had provided neither the freedom nor support that mine did. I was, and am, grateful for that.

But to no fault of theirs, I was not able to freely choose what to do with my body - whether to use it to continue growing this other human, or have the procedure that would end my pregnancy. My choice was smashed to pieces by my "rock".

For, while I was weighing the options - whether my family, my education and means, had room for an infant at this time... whether I was strong enough to carry a baby to term only to give it up to an adoptive family to care for it beyond my ability... whether to terminate the pregnancy and carry on with life's plans (such as they were) as if I'd never been pregnant... my boyfriend was thinking about his future career in the military.

His only ambition his entire life was to be part of an elite military unit such as the US Special Forces (the Green Berets) or what he saw as their modern equivalent, the Airborne Infantry. He was already a career Boy Scout, and an Eagle Scout, something he took great pride in. He'd talked to recruiters and was ready to enlist as soon as he graduated. And he saw my pregnancy as a threat to that.

At least, that's what he told me. I really can't understand his reasoning now... and I'm not sure I even seriously questioned it then. When I told him that I was considering adoption instead of abortion, he refused to even consider it. He couldn't stand the thought of "his" child being "somewhere out there" ...raised by someone else. He told me that if I did not have an abortion, I would never see him again.

There's a lot of hurt behind that statement... hurt that actually has nothing to do with him. Because while he had plans for a career after high school, I did not. I had vague ideas about what I wanted to do... I wanted to be artistic. I wanted to paint and write... but beyond that... I had no idea. I certainly didn't have plans for university... I didn't have the money to pay for it myself and I didn't have the grades or extra-curricular activities to get me a scholarship.

I knew I wasn't cut out for the military. I lacked the discipline and the physical fitness for that kind of life, whatever the film STRIPES made it out to be. So that left ...what? Becoming someone's domestic help? Being a grocery checkout clerk? Becoming a ...housewife? And with graduation looming ahead, I knew my days as a carefree teen were numbered. My mother had said so, jokingly, a few years before. I took it way too literally and way too personally. Mom had quipped about my dad's brother living in his parents' house in his 30's... "When you turn 18, you're on your own, kiddo." She didn't mean it. Hell, she wasn't even really talking about me at all! It was about her ex-brother-in-law, but I didn't realize that at 14 and I didn't realize it at 17. And so it went until that day... My self-esteem defining me through my romantic partnerships, never as the hero of my own story. So when he said my pregnancy threatened his future, and said he'd walk if I didn't terminate, I saw my future, the only future I could envision, endangered. I saw this pregnancy as a threat to the marriage I expected and all the children he and I might have in the future.

When I told my mom about my decision to terminate, I didn't tell her why. She took it calmly, but told me years later that she had been hoping I would choose differently. She offered to be there for me, she paid for part of it, and my boyfriend paid the rest. She drove me there and took me home after.

The Planned Parenthood in Beaverton did not perform abortions, and they referred me to a clinic in Northwest Portland, close to downtown. I had to make one appointment for "counseling" in which I had to lie and say that nobody was forcing me to get an abortion, and then I could set the appointment for the procedure.

I suppose that, in my mind, it wasn't really a lie. If I had been a stronger personality at the time, I could have refused to abort the pregnancy and sued him for child support... I never think about this event without a list of "what-ifs" as long as my arm.

I remember it as quiet, clean, with a neutral palette. I don't remember any of the other young women. It was the most normal thing really... just a trip to the doctor... just an "outpatient procedure". The table, the stirrups, the speculum... just like any gynecological visit I'd ever been to. I didn't pay much attention to the aspirator (the machine that provides the suction) and just focused on breathing slowly and staying relaxed. I was given local anesthetic and it was over very quickly.

I remember waiting in the recovery room for my mom to take me home, and I was relieved that it was over with. I was sorry that I had felt the need to do it, and I remember even apologizing to the fetus. I had already started believing in reincarnation as a teenager, and hoped that in the future, the same spirit might grow within another body that mine would build, when I was ready to have children. This was just not that time.

What followed the next week was pretty much what I usually went through during my period. Cramps, bleeding, and then... life went on.

I do want to write about that arms-length list of "what-ifs"... but this post, this blog, is not about what could have happened. It's about what did happen. And what did happen was not nearly as traumatic as some would have you expect.

It didn't result in any more depression than I was already experiencing due to undiagnosed chronic conditions. It's far more truthful to say that my depression led to needing an abortion than that my abortion caused depression.

I was not wracked with guilt afterward... although years later when I went through a Christian conversion experience I did feel a sort of guilt about not feeling guilty...

One out of four women in the USA have an abortion at some point in their lives. The reasons they list for having one are usually complex, involving multiple facets of their life; most often some intersection of emotional and financial stability. My story is not rare. It's common. It's normal.

It's okay.

For more information about the effect of unwanted pregnancy and abortion on the women who experience it, I recommend reading The Turnaway Study.

[randomsevans]

Positions

Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/n I dont make smutts but I know that this would be amazing that way . But I'm sorry I dont do them but i hope some REALLY FLUFFY ransom will do for now

Remeber you can send in a song request with a character

Requested @cheeseburgersstuff

Heaven sent you to me

I'm just hopin’ I don't repeat history

You had have your heart broken way too many times for you to remember. All by the same fuck boy types . You had promised yourself that you would mature up and not meet and fall for any other fuck boy . Just at that time you made that promise you had no idea that the biggest rickest trust fund fuck boy was about to woo his way into your life. And make you fall harder and fast then anyone else .

Boy, I'm tryna meet your mama on a Sunday

Then make a lotta love on a Monday (Ah, ah)

Never need no (No), no one else, babe

’Cause I'll be

The sun blazer threw the curtains as you stared at the ceiling. Remeber the events of last night . It had been a nice Sunday evening that you , Ransom and his grandfather was spending together. You had tried to make it a regular thing so Ransom could began to build a relationship with his family . He didnt want to do . Hi REALLY DIDNT WANT TO .but he would do it for you . So you thought you start with the person he hates the last and already has a decent relationship with . Harlan . It was about the 4 vist you think. And you were all laughing away at Harlan telling a story about baby Ransom on how he would run around the halls but naked (no change there ) and how his mother would just send the maid after him.

You hadn't meet the famous Mrs Linda Drysdale and your not sure if you want to . Sure shes your boyfriend mother and you still havnt meet her yet after a year . But by the stories she was no good women . Which seemed strange as Harland seemed as nice as anyone and although Ransom isn't perfect. God knows that. He has a good heart .

The laughing was cut short and there was a slam at the front door and a "Father !"

Ransoms eyes nearly pop out of his skull as his shoulder tensed up. While Harlan only took a deep breath before saying "in here " you heart stopped there and then . Oh no

"Arrr there you are.. Hugh what are you doing her e ?" A tall women with short hair and black formed glasses come stomping in the room .

Ransom pulled a face at the name but then quickly responded with "what does it look like I'm spending time with my grandfather "

Linda only chuckled and made her way over the three chair we were in "what you ran out of your monthly allowance already ?" She laughed at her self . Unknownign to that yes Harlan in a way was giving Ransom money now but instead of allowance he was now working in blood like wine .

Linda come and stood right in front of me her smug smile wiped of with a nasty look "theres no need for you here get back to work while a speak to my son and father "

You were in shook did ... did she think you were the help . You didnt know what do other then to stand up as you did a hand caught your wrist .

"I dont think so baby sit back down " Ransom said softly his eyes looking up at you untill he turned to his mother.

"And you never speak to HER that way again "

Switchin' them positions for you

Cookin' in the kitchen and I'm in the bedroom

I'm in the Olympics, way I'm jumpin' through hoops

Know my love infinite, nothin’ I wouldn’t do

That I won't do, switchin’ for you

You felt bad after then with Ransom taking you home you told him after breaking down that if he didnt wont you know more he could let you go . Ransom broke at your words . And told you time and time again how much you mean to him . He showed you to

You went to turn over after beening lost in your morning thoughts it wasnt till now you realised that the sheets next to you were empty. With a fuzzy mind and bed hair you quickly put on a rob and checked the bathroom . No he wasnt in there . Maybe his office no . You decided to go downstairs and as soon as you stepped foot onto the steps you smelt it. The sweet smell of pancakes .

As you reach the final steps and rounded to the kitchen you were quickly lifted of your feet and put onto the cold counter.

"There she is .." Ransom said softly moving your hair out of your face "hows my princess this fine Moring ?" He asked with a wink untill his face dropped in panic "sore ? Did I.."

"No no I'm fine ..." you quickly said placing a hand on his chest to slow his heat beat he admitted once his actually calmes him down . "I'm just hungry " you giggled .

"Oh well good . See I thought the smell of pancakes would get you out of bed ?"

"Did you actually cook these ?" You asked

"Of couse " Ransom answerd rather quickly

"Like in the kitchen with floor and eggs ..."

"Yes in the kitchen..... and well with a packet but I had to add water so ..." he had a pout as he was waiting approval

"Looks like your switch positions Ransom " you giggled

Perfect, perfect

You're too good to be true (You're too good to be true)

But I get tired of runnin', fuck it

Now, I’m runnin' with you (With you)

As you both sat silent eating away stealing glance at each other once in while like two teenagers with a massive crush. Ransom realised that for the first time ever in his life he was in love and there isn't nothing he wouldnt do.you for . Posistions and all . Your perfect for him and his perfect for you . His fuck boy days were well over the minute he met you he should of know he was a gonna then. But as he sat there looking at you bed and your morning glow Ransom made a promise he would have a perfect morning like this as often as he could with you till his dying days

Switchin' them positions for you

Cookin' in the kitchen and I'm in the bedroom

I'm in the Olympics, way I'm jumpin' through hoops (Jumpin', jumpin')

Know my love infinite, nothin' I wouldn't do

That I won't do, switchin' for you (Ooh woah)

Cookin' in the kitchen and I'm in the bedroom

I'm in the Olympics, way I'm jumpin' through hoops

Know my love infinite, nothin' I wouldn't do (I wouldn't do)

That I won't do, switchin' for you

[peterpanfromlemonland]

Angel of Arkham

"So," Paris Beckett, one of Arkham's newest therapists and psychiatrists clicked her pen as she stared straight into Jerome Valeska's eyes, "Why did you do it?" she leaned back in her chair as the crazy eyed ginger, wiggling in his restraints, smirked. This wasn't the first time these two have met...

6 months ago...

Paris was watching the circus with her niece that calm Sunday evening, not much was going on that night, just the regular acrobats and clowns. That was until a fight ensued between the clowns and acrobats. "Oh dear," Paris muttered as her niece grimaced and looked away, "I don't think this is supposed to happen..."

"GCPD!" A voice rang out through the circus tent, a cop, "Everybody freeze!" The string of events that happened next caught Paris off guard, she was hoping for a relaxing evening but instead she got a case placed on her hands. Sadly, her "people" skills wouldn't be needed until later.

"C'mon kiddo," Paris picked up the child, "Let's get you back home before your dad scolds me for getting you involved in my work." as the two of them left the tent a young ginger, no older than Paris bumped into them- literally- and dropped his bag of cherry flavoured candies. "Oh," Paris muttered as she knelt down to pick it up, "I'm terribly sorry, sir, I wasn't looking where I was-"

"No, no," the ginger man replied as he knelt down at the same time, "It was my fault-" their hands collided and their eyes locked onto each others. The two of them stared at each other for a moment, Paris felt the warmth of his fingers brush against hers as he blindly fumbled for the bag, until the scene before her finally began to process fully.

"Oh shit!" she jerked her hand away suddenly, her niece yelping at the random movement, "I'm so so sorry... again... I didn't mean-" she stuttered as her face flushed red, rising to her feet as her niece glanced around curiously. The ginger smiled awkwardly, that smile brought butterflies to Paris's torso, it was then did the man's features jump out at her. He was kind of cute...

"Again," he chuckled grabbing the bag and hopping to his feet as well, he was a few inches taller than Paris, "It was my fault, I wasn't watching where I was going." Paris was about to say more but the pressure of her niece gently banging her head against her shoulder stopped her.

"I- uh," Paris muttered shyly, "Sorry again- crap!"

"No worries, sweets," the ginger chuckled, "I'm Jerome, by the way."

"Paris," she smiled with a slight bow, "Nice to meet you." Jerome smiled back at her before taking his leave, her eyes followed him until he faded into the darkness. A smile still on her face.

"Aunt Paris," the small voice of her niece broke through her thoughts, "Can we go home now? I'm sleepy." Paris finally remembered why she was outside, she hummed in compliance and headed to her car. The trip to Paris's brother's house was 15 minutes, it was a quiet 15 minutes, time seemed to fly by without a moment's notice.

The next thing Paris knew was that she was pulling into her brother's driveway, she shuffled out of the car with her niece in her arms, "Paris," her brother smiled as he opened the door, "Thanks for taking care of her."

"It was no trouble at all, Jack," Paris replied softly, "We had fun." she placed the young girl in her brother's arms. She could see he wanted to say more but she quickly nodded a goodbye and rushed to her car.

"Paris!" Jack called out before she could leave, "Take care of yourself, kid." Paris stared at him before flashing him a smile and driving off...

The next day Paris was called to the scene, her job was to evaluate people's mental state after a crime as well as help out the detectives gather evidence. She pulled up to the circus parking with no knowledge of what happened after she left the previous night. When she got out of her car, a detective by the name of Gordon approached her, "Ms. Beckett?" he stopped her in her tracks.

"Yes?" she replied flatly as she took a sip of her coffee.

"I'm detective Gordon with the GCPD, you were here when the commotion started correct?"

"Yes sir." Gordon looked much older than Paris, maybe around his late 20s to early 30s, "One of the circus members attacked a fellow circus member." the two of them began walking.

"That," the detective said through gritted teeth, "And we happened to stumble across a dead body." Paris nearly tripped over her own feet. Turns out that the body they found was the mother of Jerome, Paris could feel her heart plummet to her stomach. She couldn't imagine the pain that sweet boy was going through.

"So..." Gordon focused his gaze on the girl, "We want you to talk to him..." his tone was cold and blank.

"That's my job, detective," Paris replied, "But something in your tone says that you don't think I can do my job." Gordon scoffed and bit his cheek.

"How old are you again?" he cocked his head skeptically.

"18," she replied with confidence, "Should that matter?"

"Look, I have no problem with you- really- I just think you're a bit-"

"-Too young to be a psychiatrist and therapist?" she smirked, "I assure you, sir, I scored the top of my class." and with that she walked off, leaving the detective dumbfounded, a smirk crawling across her face.

Paris made her way to find Jerome, asking here and there about his whereabouts, he was sitting outside of his trailer hugging his knees with his face buried. The poor thing must've been crying all night. She approached him gently and quietly, "Jerome?" she chirped softly, causing him to jolt in his seat, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you-" she noticed that his eyes were red and puffy, probably from crying, she gazed at him warmly with a small smile.

All the boy did was sniffle and look away in shame and grief, "What do you want?" he grumbled, aware of the girl taking a small step closer to him.

"Mind if I sit by you...?" she tilted her head quizzically. Jerome just scowled in response, yet she still sat by him anyway. The boy didn't protest or argue, he just scooted over a bit to make room for the girl.

"Why are you here?" Jerome finally spoke, "You don't look like a cop..."

"That is true," Paris shrugged, "But I do evaluate people."

"What? So you're like a shrink?" he scoffed.

"I guess. But I'd also like to be your friend."

"Did they tell you to say that?"

"No," Paris chuckled, "I actually do want to be your friend."

"What's in it for you?" Jerome muttered.

"Another person to share jokes with and eat icecream with?" Paris noticed a change in Jerome's postrue, she smiled softly. The two of them sat in silence for a couple of minutes before Paris spoke again. "You doing okay? With all that happened?" Jerome sniffled and shrugged, rubbing his eyes against his sleeve.

Paris shifted to give him a hug but he jerked as if he was expecting her to smack him in the face. Her eyes met with his, once he saw no malicious intentions he calmed down and allowed her to gently hug him. Jerome cried into her shoulder for what seemed like hours, Paris rubbed his back soothingly and rocked back and forth softly. When he finished crying Paris hopped to her feet and extended a hand out to him.

"Walk with me?" she asked with a childlike wonder in her tone, Jerome couldn't refuse. The ginger took her hand in his and was quickly yanked to his feet and dragged away. The two of them weaved their way around the circus, Paris taking in the scene around her.

"Were you two close?" she asked, Jerome tilted his head in confusion, "You and your mother?" Jerome hissed in disgust as she mentioned his mother, that hiss was enough to answer Paris's question. Jerome began to tell the girl about his relationship with his mother and how she would always beat him, he told her about how he would often find his mother in bed with another man, about how she would get drunk and hit him again and again for no reason at all. Paris jotting down notes as a therapist would.

"'Jerome'," he mocked, "'Go take out the trash!' Or 'Jerome, it's always your fault!' followed by her banging a clown in the other room. I'm sorry, I'm rambling again."

"It's quite alright," Paris reassured him, "As a friend, and a therapist, it's my job to listen." Jerome stopped and smiled at her, she was quite different than the others he had met.

"My mother's love life never really bothered me at all," Jerome continued, "I mean, it's the reason I exist."

"True." Paris shrugged in agreement.

"I just hope that they find whoever did this..."

"I do as well..." Paris's voice grew quiet, Jerome noticed that her gaze darkened so he quickly changed the subject.

"I gotta go run some errands soon," he scratched his neck, "But I kinda wanna talk to you more."

"Thank you." Paris beamed at this comment.

"Mind if I get your number, sweets?" Paris didn't refuse, she quickly scribbled her number on a fresh page in her notebook before tearing it out and handing it to the ginger. Jerome said his thanks as he shoved the piece of paper into his jeans pocket, "When's a good time to call you?" he asked before he left.

"Around 5:30-6ish," Paris hummed, "Weekends I'm free to talk all day."

"You wanna go out to dinner with me tonight?" Jerome asked before she left.

"Sure, surpirse me!"

"I'll call you later tonight."

And with that the two said their goodbyes and headed their separate ways...

Back to present day, in Arkham...

Paris waited patiently for an answer, Jerome's frenzied gaze burning a hole through her composure and confidence. The silence was suffocating.

"Well?" she urged, "I'm waiting for your answer." Jerome only laughed, if it were during other circumstances Paris would've adored that laugh of his. But in that moment his laugh brought fear.

"You remember the time I took you out for dinner," Jerome started, "Right, sweets?"

[a-random-sapphire-appeared]

It's been a month, and I'm still not over my 8 year old nephew saying I looked like a bag of dog shit and his parents (my brother and sister-in-law) laughing about it. Like, I don't think about it constantly, but it pops into my head way too often for my personal comfort.

Yes, this is the same kid who forced me to sleep on the couch at my parents' house because he "wanted his own room" and my mother thought that was okay and gave him the den as his room while we were all there.

Of course these weren't the only things that happened while we were there, and my mother is still pissed that I wanted to leave. She hasn't spoken to me in nearly a month.

I know there are people who'll say I should take the high road, since I'm the adult here, but this kid knows right from wrong, and if he doesn't, his parents sure as hell do. This is the same kid who, at Christmas when we were all there, broke the Joy-Cons for my switch because there was no dock and he couldn't play on the TV, punched and kicked my father because Dad wouldn't let him have his way, told his parents he hated them, ordered adults around on the regular, and threw fits because "nobody was nice to him". Oh sure, I can be the bigger person, but why should I? This little shit is a menace, and apparently he's the most important person in our family.

Yes, I am jealous of an 8 year old. I'm pissed off and hurt, and I don't give even half a fuck what anybody thinks of me because of that.