#also she'd KILL him if he said her first name in front of anyone else. but when they're alone it does feel more.. personal 🥺💖

[cherry-bomb-ships]

K I'm about to post gayass cute thoughts don't look <_<

But uurgh... UUUUUGH So I've always thought that R. Marie kinda likes keeping her full name a secret, just cuz its not really necessary for anyone to know and of course, R. Marie sounds much more intimidating. But of course, Cortex would want to know what the "R" stands for, and I'm sure he'd be persistent in pestering her about it as often as he could get away with, until finally she snaps and gives in. She'd probably just blurt it out in the middle of him asking yet again, like "It's RUBY, alright?!? My first name is Ruby. Are you satsfied?!" before she storms off in a huff (which is definitely to hide her blush).

Cortex would probably just stand there for a moment or two, letting this new info sink in for a moment. And then for the rest of the day, he'd just keep repeating her name to himself. Even while working on blueprints and machines, he'd just keep repeating it under his breath, and I guarantee he'd have the MOST dumb lovestruck grin the whole time, would probably play with his hair a bit too UGH 💀💖💖 After waiting so long to know what it was... he'd just like how it feels to say 💀💀💖💖💖💖

[gothicrazor]

Anything for you [P1]

Kurt Wagner x Fem!Reader || Rating: PG(?) || WC: 1.4k

Inspiration: Foreigner's God - Hoizer

Content Warning: afab reader, unrequited love (both reader + Kurt), Kurt pining

Authors Note: First time writing for X-Men! Please be kind to me I'm trying pookies, hopefully this turns out okay or I might actually weep! I dunno if anyone would want a part two of this, just lemme know ig??? Also let it be known I used deepL for the few things he said in German... Please don't hate me 😔

Who knew the kiss on the back of a gloved hand could really tank someone's mood as quickly as anything else at a typical Saturday night dinner. Watching the gleam drain from your eyes across the table was something he's sadly used to now. Following your eyes to the end of the table to what he knew you were staring at.

His dear sister and one of his closest friends. Rogue and Gambit. The strongest "couple" next to their leader and his wife. A force strong and immovable. Rogue, too scared to stray. And Gambit, too loyal to look anywhere but her eyes half the time.

And it kills you. Anyone who knows you can see your heart break every time they connect.

Thankfully, no one seems to be paying attention to you, no one but the blue mutant across the table from you. He finds it hard to keep his eyes anywhere but on you. Always has since you met all those years ago. He's seen you at your best, the fierceness burning behind your eyes during the heat of battle. And at your worse... Grieving the loss of something you could never have in the first place.

Your chair screeches, moving across the hardwood of the dining room harder than you intended. Standing up too fast, everyone stared in surprise.

"I'm gonna turn in early." Scott's brow rose behind ruby quartz shades as he stood up.

"Everything okay?" You smile, trying to keep up the facade, not wanting to openly weep in front of the team you call family.

"Just a little tired from training." You grab the edge of your half-eaten plate of dinner before you're met with the rough hand of Logan next to you on your wrist.

"Leave it kid, go get some shut eye." His face almost looks slightly worried, as you don't even put up an argument as usual. Just nodding, you push your chair in and hurry out of the dining room.

Kurt watches you leave, tilting his head to watch you rush up the foyer stairs as chatter picks back up at the table.

"Do you think she's sick?" His ears perk up to the concerned whisper of Jean's voice, looking at Scott as he sat back down at the head of the table.

"It's not unlike her to keep quiet when she's not feeling the best."

"She's barely been eating more than half her food in the past week Scott, I'm starting to get worried. She hasn't been like this since the Professor died." Kurt's head turns, chiming in with his usual soft tone.

"I'll check on her after dinner." Jean and Scott both looked at him. Jean smiling softly as she squeezed his shoulder.

"Thank you, Kurt. She'd probably talk to you before any of us." He nods, his dark hair bouncing lightly before turning his attention back to dinner.

Walking down the hall, he stops at your door, glancing at your nameplate before raising his fist to knock. Freezing for a moment, knowing you'd expect him to come upstairs anytime after you left. Why should he bother to knock at this point?

But Kurt is quite literally a creature of habit. So he does.

Two soft wraps hit the door before grabbing the knob, edging the flat wood open to peek inside. Your room is still dimly lite, only the moon from your window cast over the person-sized lump under the covers of your bed. A soft mutter of your name leaves his lips, yellow eyes glowing as he looks down at the bed.

"Can I come in?" A whimpered 'yes' is all he gets in return, stepping inside with the subtle click of the door closing behind him. The familiar creak of the bed fills the room as he sits on the edge, tail curling over your legs covered by blankets. Hand meeting your side under the covers, eyes falling to their usual worried state, like every time he's comforted you this way before.

Rubbing gently over your lower back, he doesn't say a word, just feeling the slight tremble of your body hidden away from his line of sight. You sniff, pulling the blanket from over your head to look at him, eyes bloodshot and miserable looking. Something he's seen too many times before but still breaks his heart seeing you like this.

"Can you lie with me, please?"

"Anything for you, mein Schatz." He gets up, walking around the bed, pulling the covers back as he climbs in next to you. Fixing them back in place, you assume your natural spot of your head on his chest and his arm around your shoulder. The gentle rub of his hand down your bicep in a soothing gesture.

"Are you okay?" His voice barely raised above a whisper, his cheek settling onto the top of your head. You take in a sharp bit shaky breath trying to calm yourself.

"It's getting harder and harder to be around them... I don't..." You choke up for a second, breathing out a soft whimper.

"I don't know... How much longer can I stand to see them together... It's so unfair of me to feel this way because he'll never love me... Not like Anna, but I just can't... Stop it. I just - I feel terrible for so many reasons." Kurt hugs you tighter, knowing that feeling all too well. Unrequited affections for someone who'll never see you as anything more than a good friend. It almost hurts him knowing you're feeling how he feels constantly.

"I know, I wish I could take the pain away from you." You shudder, sniffling against his chest. Tears welling up in your eyes as you hold onto him like a lifeline, trying to ground yourself in desperation. Squeezing your eyes shut, the tears slipped, soaking the front of his suit.

"I feel so stupid." You whine, starting to hiccup against him, tears sliding past your lashes in groves. Kurt shushes you, moving his hand to your back to cradle you closer. Sharp claws raking over the back of your uniform, gentle touch as he always has with you. His hand moves up, thumb rubbing over your cheek and turning up your chin to look at him.

"You are not stupid, meine Liebe. It's okay to feel this way. The heart wants what it wants. Unforgiving or not, you can't help that."

"Why does it have to be him of all people?" His lips turned to a frown, seeing the hurt behind your eyes. Still wiping your eyes with his thumb, he just shakes his head.

"I wish I could give you the answers. Remy is... A kind man who deeply cares for those he loves. I can see the appeal. But you'll be okay. Eventually, I'm sure of it. You're very strong after all." You just blink, breath quivering as you start to calm down a bit.

"I'm strong..." You mutter under your breath, making him smile slightly before your head goes back to him. Finding his shoulder to lean on, you take in a deep breath, shutting your eyes as you exhale and repeating the words like a prayer.

"Ja, the strongest I know."

"Thank you, Kurt, I don't know what I'd do without you." You give a weak smile as you relax against him, feeling his head leaning against yours.

"And you'll never have to find out, that's a promise." You smile a little wider, a chuckle escaping your lips.

"Can you keep holding me for a little while longer?" He smiles against the top of your head, soaking in the shared warmth between the two of you.

"Of course." You sink into his body, putting your full weight against him. His grip tightened around you. Taking in a deep breath, his eyes wandered from your relaxed expression to the window. Watching the night sky as you slowly drift off in his arms.

Feeling you go slack in his grip, Kurt looks at how relaxed you are now. Thumb moving back over your delicate features like a feather. Something he's done too many times now. But you're so beautiful to him. He can't help but want to touch you. Lips pressing the crown on your head, lingering longer than necessary.

"Ich liebe dich..." His eyes shifted back down to your face, waiting for a reaction he never got. Good or bad. It's just another confession that's gone unheard dozens of times now. No matter how much he's said it.

Smiling at your sleeping expression, he moves down the bed. Shifting onto his side to hold you against his chest. His tail wraps around your waist as he keeps you close.

Cherishing the little moments, he gets to pretend he has your heart... No matter how much it hurts his heart.

♡Thanks for reading♡

[whatitshouldvebeen]

(no idea if these even go through, first time pls be patient with me) i’ve been going through your blog for a few days and i am loooving it omg i love the way you write so much! i was wondering what you would think would go down when,

a victim using reader as bait to let the victim go

a victim hurting reader (mistook as a family member) or

A victim dragging reader out an exit to escape also (thinking she’s another person trapped there) please don’t feel like you have to answer all, (or even answer at all) you have your own life and you can make your own decisions in life :) 👋

A Dog's Loyalty

I wrote this as a combo of all three requests of yours!

Description: Ana tries to escape with you, but you don't want to leave

Warnings: blood, injury

"Oh my god, Leland, there's someone else in here!"

You looked up at her, your eyes wide. You were huddled in the corner of Johnny's shack, frozen in place. It had been months since you saw another person; you'd almost forgotten anyone but Johnny truly existed.

"Don't worry, hun, we'll get you out. My name is Ana, what's yours?" the young woman asked, working to untie the rope from around your ankle. She had the most beautiful tan skin, her dark hair matted with sweat but still cascading in pretty waves down to her shoulders. The guy she'd called Leland kept watch, peeking out of the cracked front door anxiously.

You hesitantly told her your name, and she smiled as she helped you up from the floor. "I think our friend Julie already unlocked the front gate. We just have to get there without getting caught."

Leland signaled that the coast was clear, sliding through the crack in the door. Ana waited for you to go, and you marveled at how easy it was to get through now. You'd been here so long you'd lost a lot of weight since the first time you'd been sneaking around trying to escape.

You're almost blinded by the light as you emerge on the other side. How long had it been since you'd been outside? You couldn't even remember. Months? A year? Longer?

Ana came out after you, and not long after the three of you heard a chainsaw revving. Ana pulled you into some tall grass while Leland ran away from the exit, drawing the attention of the man you'd heard Johnny refer to as "big boy," who yelled in outrage as he chased after him.

"Come on, now's our chance!" Ana said, grabbing your hand. You stumbled after her, not used to running after so long locked away.

"Where do you think you're going, sweetheart?"

The voice stopped you in your tracks, only a few feet from the gate. Ana looked at you incredulously and tried to pull you toward the gate.

"Come on! He's coming!!" She screamed, tugging at you. You stayed rooted in place, your ears burning.

"Be a good girl and stay right where you are." Johnny rounded the corner of the white picket fence, walking so slowly you probably could get away if you started running. But you didn't.

"Oh my god, you're one of them, aren't you?!" Ana accused, pulling your back against her chest. She took out a bone scrap and held it to your neck, her breathing erratic.

"Let me and Leland go, or I'll kill her!" Ana said, pressing the scrap against your neck and backing up toward the gate. You winced, but it wasn't anything new to have a sharp edge threaten your life.

Johnny stopped, his eyes narrowing.

"'Fraid I can't do that. Your friend is already in the basement being chopped up as we speak."

Ana swallowed harshly. "You piece of shit! You're lying!"

Johnny grinned. "Stick around fer dinner and I'll let you see him again, all dressed in some nice gravy ‘n chitlins."

Ana's tears fell on your shoulder as her back ran into the gate. Johnny stayed where he was, his fingers twitching at his side.

"Johnny," you whispered, trying not to move.

"Obviously, she wants to stay. Keep her," Ana said, shoving the gate open. She then took the bone scrap and jabbed it into your thigh, throwing you to the side.

You screamed as you fell to the ground, blood welling around the bone scrap. Johnny let out a feral growl before lunging, moving faster than you'd ever seen him move.

"Help me!" Ana screamed, running out onto the road. Johnny moved twice as fast, fueled by rage as he grabbed her around her midsection. He didn't hesitate before dragging his blade across her throat, her blood fanning out through the air and splattering on the road. He let her drop to the road, discarded, and you heard him run back through the gate.

He collected you in his arms, sitting on the dusty ground and holding you close.

"Are you okay baby?" He asked, gently stroking your hair from your face. He looked down at your leg and winced, the first time you've ever seen him queasy at the sight of an injury.

You nodded, though your face was pallid and your fingertips felt cold.

"I… need a bandaid…"

Johnny laughed and nodded. "I'll get ya one. Come on." He picked you up easily, cradling you against his chest. Instead of taking you to his shack, he brought you into Nancy's house for the first time. Once inside he laid you out on the dining room table, much like the meals they'd served over the years.

He rushed to the bathroom and brought back gauze.

"This is gonna hurt sugar. Here." He unbuckled his belt and put it between your teeth. "Bite down on this, alright?"

You nodded, and he smiled. "Good girl. One… two…" He then yanked the bone scrap from your thigh.

You wailed, more thick blood oozing out onto the table. Johnny poured alcohol over the wound, making the pain almost unbearable. He then, as quickly as he could, wrapped your leg in gauze. You felt your vision getting fuzzy as you began to fade. But then, Johnny leaned over the table, took his belt back, and kissed you.

Your heart instantly picked up, and your eyes focused on him as he pulled back, his cocked grin on his handsome face.

"You showed your loyalty today, sugar. I knew you were special." He kissed you again, and even though your arms were weak you still wrapped them around his neck. When he pulled back, he looked happier than you'd ever seen him.

"Welcome to the family."

[selfproclaimedunicorn]

Thought I’d do another one! Does your OC have children? If so then how fiercely do they love them? If they have more than one then do they love them all equally? If they do not have children then is this part of their future plans? - for the Roycegaryen kids (whichever one(s) you want!)

a;lksdjf you're so sweet for sending another, thank you!

No one has kids atm, but they all wind up having kids by the time we reach the end of season 1. None of the kids are super fleshed out atm, & Robella may wind up having more depending on how the vibe of their relationship goes, because I'm gonna be real: if you'd told me when I published chapter one 11 months that I'd be this far into the fic by now I would have thought you were nuts. I simply have made more progress than I thought I would have & so I never really made working on the kids a priority. I still have time to flesh them out (especially since I'm sure a, like, planned hiatus will be coming in a couple chapters), but things are a wee bit lackluster on detail front. There's enough that I think I can sufficiently answer this, though!

Rhaella/Robella: At the moment, I'm planning on three kids. Ella would, 100%, without a doubt, kill for her son & daughters. She'd set villages on fire for them. So long as she has a say, they are simply never going to struggle or know hardships or get let down by her or anyone else in their lives. How Griffith, Aerea, & Adrienne see the adults in their lives (especially her, because she's aware of her shortcomings) is going to be the undeniable truth because she is never going to lie or manipulate them or do anything to make the way they see her as some sort of illusion that will be shattered one day. If anyone asks she doesn't have a favorite & she loves all of them equally, & she for sure cares for all of them & makes sure that they all have special memories with her, but Adrienne is her favorite. Like, sorry, but she named this little girl after her childhood OC, there is no recovering from having done that.

Yorick/Yoreen: Even if his sister winds up having more than my three planned on kids, she's not having as many as Yorick. This man said "I love MILFS & also titties" then knocked his wife up 6 times. He loves his kids, he would die for them if it would protect them & he would kill for them if they asked, but he's very much got his "I was 'raised' by Daemon Targaryen during his Rhea Royce era" that kind of sees him being an overly soft touch with his kids. Like, he does discipline them & have expectations, but he's more a "verbally express that I am disappointed & then give you lots of affection after I have told you to apologize" type of parent. He gets more stern as he gets more kids under his belt & just generally gets more sure of himself, but he's remains very conscious of not doing to his brood what was done to him. Yorick, I don't think, has a favorite. He, like, actually does have an equal-across-the-board level of love for his kids, but his oldest daughter definitely has him as her favorite parent. Like, Rhea is a daddy's girl & there's nothing Yorick can do about it, lmao

Aemon/[redacted ship name, but it's another OC]: He isn't getting married till the gap between episodes 7 & 8, so he has the least amount of details there. Where I stand right now, he only has one kid by the end of season 1 & any others are born after The Dance (because, like, him & his wife are still pretty young. He's only 3 years older than Aegon), & I keep waffling on which "I have fucked up attachments" name he gives his son. Regardless, that baby is literally only, like, one-to-two years old & there's not really any dynamics at play there. Because actual toddler. Also, I feel like Aemon is the kind of person who, if something is cute enough, it makes him a little unhinged. Like, he would say he wants to eat his son & throw things across the room because he doesn't now how to handle how cute he thinks babies are. He did cry the first time he held Yorick/Gerold the Younger [name I settle on pending].

[star-shapedfruit]

Let's talk about Chapter 107- Part Deux (Ex Machina)

Man. Man.

Follow up post from this. Might as well keep this as a series because I guess verbal diarrhoea is a coping mechanism for me. Thoughts and predictions again. Spoilers below

So it appears that yes, Hiyori is 100% dead now since we saw her memories through Yato (broke my fucking heart btw) and we're going down the shinki route.

Yato didn't want to name her. He had no choice. He had just watched the love of his life be murdered right in front of him and was about to see her be transformed into his Father's monstrous puppet. Naming her there and then before Father got the chance to was the only way to save her. This is the most brutal fucking chapter in the entire series I swear to GOD. (Though I think most of us can agree that from the small glimpse of Hakki we have so far, she looks gorgeous. That sakura design.. 🥺)

But seriously I'm hoping and praying that Hiyori is somehow going to retain her memories and either bypass the GGS or be pretty much immune to it. Like I said before, she's a special case. Because she already had ties to the Far Shore and to multiple gods, she might get a sort of get out of jail free card here. Plus it would just interrupt the flow of the finale to a really weird extent if she lost all of her memories. It'd be too jarring and weird imo. Perhaps she initially has all of them but then over time her Near Shore memories will eventually fade away.

(Reiterating what I said in the previous post. I have no idea how this is going to affect other shinkis with her being around in regards to the GGS. Or even if her existence will be allowed by Amaterasu. It's not like Ammy can wipe everyone's memories of Hiyori to safeguard them. But hey)

Also the fact that his shinkis are literally Snow White? Lol.

Lets say she retains her memories. Will she still be called Hiyori or will she have to go by Shirone even if hearing her name won't break her? Maybe it'll be a closely guarded secret by her and Yato. Having her name on a part of her body that can't be seen (like over her heart for instance because thematics) means it's hidden from view from anyone else, therefore nobody can use that name against her (KAZUMA. 👀) An extra layer of protection for her. It'll be her and Yato's (and probably Yukine's too) secret.

Speaking of Yukine, I'm guessing he's going to be out of action for this final final fight. With Hiyori slicing the Koto No Ha in half like an absolute boss ass bitch, it's likely that The Nation will collapse and everyone will return to their regular forms. Yukine will probably be in a bad shape and unfit to fight let alone even transform into Sekki. Meaning it's going to be Yato and Hiyori Vs Father working together as one. The Deux Ex Machina has appeared and she is pissed.

(Literally though, first thing she does as a weapon is take a slice at Father and the brush. I didn't even realise she'd cut his fingers til the second read through. Looks like she might have even got his neck too? Dare I say...? Slay?)

So yeah. I'm hoping that because of her original ties to Yato and the Far Shore, her memories may not be lost. The two of them will team up to take down Father as possibly the most powerful shinki we've seen so far. Nobody has been able to make a dent in the Koto No Ha until now. Which is possibly why this is why the story is going this way. Yato has tried and failed to take down Father multiple times. He couldn't use Yukine for his final confrontation for obvious reasons so he went on a search to find a suitable and powerful enough shinki to take his place, and that ended up being Kazuma. Obviously didn't work out as intended though.

Funny how maybe the person he's needed to take down Father all along is Hiyori. Father might have ended up winning in the end but by killing her, he's essentially doomed himself.

[backjustforberena]

Rhaenys was Jaehaerys granddaughter yeah but she was also the daughter of the sister who's birth he attended, who he helped raise. How could he be so callous and cruel to her?

Then again wasn't he the same to his first daughter about who would become queen, constantly brushing his wife's worry away by saying she'd be queen when her brother was king?

Yes, Jaehaerys would never commit to Daenarys being Queen per se and would simply state that she and Aemon would marry when old enough. It's said that "from the moment Aemon was born, the king began to speak of him as his heir" - which goes to show.

I can understand his caution, and perhaps excuse this as less misogyny, but more pragmatism, given Daenerys was so young and the incidents surrounding Rhaena and her daughter were so fresh, the idea of a female ruler or the implication that female could become ruler over a male relative was galling and signalled only bad things. And, of course, it would only bring back ideas regarding his own claim. Surely, stability in the form of what Jaehaerys and Alysanne had done would be appealing and mean that a reoccurrence of that kind of fracturing would not be possible.

But, then time passes. And it's just now totally and utterly sexist. Rhaenys has no volatility, she does not represent any sort of danger to the Targaryen hold over Westeros. Her father was not wild, but serious. A picture of duty. Her parents were literally picture-perfect. There was no reason to fear the kind of ruler she could become. Alysanne doted on her and favoured her. She'd grown up in court, she was the eldest grandchild, daughter of the eldest child.

It is her RIGHT. Even in the book, it's interesting that the blokes all agree that Baelon would be "better suited" because he was older, a warrior, with two sons and the love of the people. As if Jaehaerys was about to shrivel up and die right then and there. Honestly, there would have been NO HARM in naming Rhaenys heir at that moment. If childbirth were the issue, then sure, name Baelon once she dies. Or if there is a child that lives, name Baelon as regent or whatever. Either way, you don't have this.

What interests me are the conditions around which the choice was made. Rhaenys's father dies. Baelon goes to war to slay those that killed Aemon (ironically, something Rhaenys would be unable to do due to her condition, though she would not be unwilling to fight on dragonback, we know that) - and Jaehaerys starts thinking:

It's not discussed in official Small Council meetings, but rather in private audiences with Septon Barth and the Grand Maester. There's nothing to suggest that Alysanne was consulted until after the choice was made. This is also true of anyone else who might have been on Rhaenys's side.

Rhaenys's strongest male allies were away, fighting the war. Her husband, Corlys Velaryon (incidentally also Master of Ships and on the Small Council), as well as her uncle Boremund Baratheon. Both on Tarth.

Rhaenys would have spent a portion of this interim time on Driftmark (Aemon dies so quickly and they had departed from the island to go to Tarth) and consoling her mother, as well as be caught in her own grief. She would have no idea what the King was up to. But, neither, also, would Baelon.

When it's announced, it's done so in a way that cannot be undone: it's in public, as soon as Baelon gets back, in front of the smallfolk and the lords, and it's done to cheers. Jaehaerys embraces his war hero son and proclaims him heir. Baelon arrives via dragon, so, again, it's likely that all of this is done whilst Rhaenys is alone, as Corlys would be travelling by ship.

Ergo, no one can do anything about it. And that's why Corlys resigns and Alysanne flies away and Jocelyn and Boremund glare and dissent. That's all they can do.

[medtech-mara]

8, 11, 22 for Mara/Jack and Mara/J I H Z Z Y

Ref post

8.Who is the big spoon? Little spoon?

Jihara- which is the couple name for J I H Z Z Y and Mara. I think we can all guess who is the big spoon.

It's Mara. J I H Z Z Y is the little spoon.

For Jack & Mara, who don't have a couple name because we've not came up with one yet.

Jack is the big spoon. Before he got the extra inches (his height, don't be in the gutter lmao) from his Sigframe, he was a like a Jetpack on Mara. Kinda cute. He wasn't that much shorter than Mara, only a couple.

9.Who is clingy?

For Jihara- Mara is the more clingy one. Something about this rockerboy leaves Mara desperate for his attention. Maybe it's because his fame makes her feel insecure? Especially knowing that Missy (Our pop queen) has had his audience a few times. Of course it was only for discussing Collab and Missy asking J I H Z Z Y to get Gordie to look her way again, but it still made Mars hella jealoussssss!!!!

For Jack & Mara- Jack is the clingy one. He has always hung on every word Mara has ever said since he fell in love with her when they were 9. She'd come over one morning, with her frizzy of unmanageable mane, her glasses, and braces, something in the way she smiled, something in the way she was so excited to talk about this new show she watched, when she crawled into the blanket fort dubbed Fort. Adams with his twin brother, just made him realize she was the one for him. While they have always been inseparable, after getting together in Water on Mars, the two are rarely seen without each other, and Mara will never admit to anyone but him, there's no place else she'd rather be.

22. What is something - either character - doesn't like about the other?

Jihara- For J i h z z y, I can't speak for him on this, but IF I were to guess, it would be that Mara's content with going any minute, she's okay living the rest of her days as a merc. He wants more for her.

For Mara, She doesn't like that J I H Z Z Y has never taken being a merc serious, despite this being the whole reason he's here for his next album. He's not improved and too many times she's had to hold herself back to tend to him to to be near him in the invent that something horrible does happen, she has to get him hooked to a Cryo-bag stat.

Jack & Mara- For Jack, He hates Mara being a merc. Well, at first. He was SOOOO AGAINST IT!!! That was, until one day she was coming home from a gig that she blew him off for, she was pushed onto N-CART track and left for dead.. But she wasn't. Maelstrom scavs near by took advantage of a fresh corps to pick apart, but the only Cyberware she had at the moment of value was her KIROSHI 075362K Limited Gold Edition w/ the following upgrades: 

-Low-Light/Infrared/UV 

-Color Shift

-Anti-Dazzle

But they were fried when she fell on the track, and left blind. THE ONLY saving grace was that Mara had a Frequent Flyer card addressed to a Titus Atredies (Space prince) and they saw their chance for a good cash cow that they wanted to milk dry. However, He never showed. I have no clue what the Boosters planned on, but Mara was almost never seen again. If it hadn't been for her brother putting a tracker in her bag, a spy toy from when they were kids, which he'd recently given to Jayce before he was arrested. (Look theres a lot, that was going on at that time. I would need a soild hour to explain.). Mara had pinged Jago several times to get her, and he hadn't showed either. Blind, she knew that she wouldn't fair well, but she was gonna die trying. She didn't want to know what they planned for her. Just as she got ready to make a break for it, Jack showed up and killed the two guys in the front seat. That's when he decided he had to be proactive, he had to protect her or else she was going to end up like her friend Jennifer Costa.

& also he hates mara's ex jago a lot and hates that she even has anything to do with him still

Mara HATES that Jack can never say what he feels. Its always gotta be to the point of no return for him to finally make his move. Mara wasn't blind to how Jack felt, but when she made her move, he didn't respond? So she was kinda left confused, and maybe thought it was for the best. She stood the most to lose if it didnt work. It wasn't until He heard about Mara and Titus had broken up, thats when he went to make his move. LIKE DUDE WHY? UUUUGGGGHHHHHH

[tsukidrama]

hi! same anon. thanks so much for answering all of my questions! i hope it’s ok that i have some more?

when reader and papa first met at the battle of heaven and earth, what was she like? i know even in trnt she still has some negative feelings towards papa for what he made annie go through, so what was she like towards him before she actually got to know him?

are any of the other animals besides cinnamon and the cats named? I like to imagine reader and annie naming each and every one of the chickens and then forgetting who’s who

what was reader like when hange died?

im so sorry for all of these questions i know you said its fine but i just kind of feel like im bombarding you 😓

have a good night!

of course i don't mind! though the first two questions don't have very interesting answers. i genuinely have a lot of fun answering these and i like it when people are curious!!! continue to send asks forever if you want to. i will never get tired of talking about TRNT.

i've gotten this question before, i think? they really don't interact that much! Annie does introduce them to one another in the aftermath of the battle but he's never met any of the Paradis kids, so nobody particularly stands out. on Reader's part, she's definitely not thrilled to meet him. and she doesn't particularly like him going in but she knows that he's important to Annie, and that being with Annie means being okay with her dad. so she swallows her feelings in favor of just politely nodding and smiling, shaking his hand, and introducing herself. Papa hasn't seen his daughter in years so he's more focused on catching up with her rather than grilling her about who she's dating. i don't think the idea of her dating someone even crosses his mind until it happens. that's his baby, yknow? the image he has of her in his head is from when she was a child. even if they were hugging in front of him i don't think Papa would immediately connect that to her being romantically involved with anyone. plus, after that big battle everybody had a lot of other things on their mind.

i don't think he's that observant so he doesn't even really notice anything after reader and Annie move in together. have you read off the beaten path? particularly this one and this one since they deal with the early dynamic.

yeah, the other animals have names! i don't list them in the story because there would be too many names to keep track of. i don't think i've ever sat down and come up with names for them and i doubt i will but they obviously exist in canon. any suggestions from the people? lmao

Papa would only know the cows' names since that's what he deals with, but reader + Annie know them all. they have all their little markings or feather/coat patterns memorized, as well as their mannerisms. you might be surprised how distinctive of personalities farm animals can have! after a month or two of seeing them every day they become part of the family.

as for hanji's death: initially, i mean, basically the same reaction as everyone else? she'd be devastated and crying and shit, but i don't think she would spiral too incredibly badly. more than anything i think reader's biggest takeaway would be that all this fighting just keeps killing people she cares about. she realizes that death is the only thing coming for the people who are involved in war.

honestly it didn't hit me until now but... hanji's death might be what pushed reader over the edge into being so eager to detach herself from Paradis. there are very, very few people left for her. she's got no family left alive and like everyone, she's watched people she's known for years slowly being picked off one by one. hanji dying just pushes her to the point of not wanting to be involved in anything having to do with war - or peace/diplomacy for that matter.

that's definitely part of why she doesn't go back to Paradis. she doesn't want to see places that she associates with people who are now dead. and it also doesn't help that things would be awkward with Historia. what happens from the raid on Liberio all the way to the finale changes reader's mind about "going home," and i think she's so caught up in the fairytale feelings of having Annie back that she doesn't even realize she left Hisu behind until it's too late. and with a newborn baby, too. it's not reader's best moment but hey! girl has got issues.

this will come back in TRNT at some point actually, but shsh sh ssshh spoilers ....

[chrisevansluv]

Here is the 2012 Detail Magazine interview with chris evans:

The Avengers' Chris Evans: Just Your Average Beer-Swilling, Babe-Loving Buddhist

The 30-year-old Bud Light-chugging, Beantown-bred star of The Avengers is widely perceived as the ultimate guy's guy. But beneath the bro persona lies a serious student of Buddhism, an unrepentant song-and-dance man, and a guy who talks to his mom about sex. And farts.

By Adam Sachs,

Photographs by Norman Jean Roy

May 2012 Issue

"Should we just kill him and bury his body?" Chris Evans is stage whispering into the impassive blinking light of my digital recorder.

"Chris!" shouts his mother, her tone a familiar-to-anyone-with-a-mother mix of coddling and concern. "Don't say that! What if something happened?"

We're at Evans' apartment, an expansive but not overly tricked-out bachelor-pad-ish loft in a semi-industrial nowheresville part of Boston, hard by Chinatown, near an area sometimes called the Combat Zone. Evans has a fuzzy, floppy, slept-in-his-clothes aspect that'd be nearly unrecognizable if you knew him only by the upright, spit-polished bearing of the onscreen hero. His dog, East, a sweet and slobbery American bulldog, is spread out on a couch in front of the TV. The shelves of his fridge are neatly stacked with much of the world's supply of Bud Light in cans and little else.

On the counter sit a few buckets of muscle-making whey-protein powder that belong to Evans' roommate, Zach Jarvis, an old pal who sometimes tags along on set as a paid "assistant" and a personal trainer who bulked Evans up for his role as the super-ripped patriot in last summer's blockbuster Captain America: The First Avenger. A giant clock on the exposed-brick wall says it's early evening, but Evans operates on his own sense of time. Between gigs, his schedule's all his, which usually translates into long stretches of alone time during the day and longer social nights for the 30-year-old.

"I could just make this . . . disappear," says Josh Peck, another old pal and occasional on-set assistant, in a deadpan mumble, poking at the voice recorder I'd left on the table while I was in the bathroom.

Evans' mom, Lisa, now speaks directly into the microphone: "Don't listen to them—I'm trying to get them not to say these things!"

But not saying things isn't in the Evans DNA. They're an infectiously gregarious clan. Irish-Italians, proud Bostoners, close-knit, and innately theatrical. "We all act, we sing," Evans says. "It was like the fucking von Trapps." Mom was a dancer and now runs a children's theater. First-born Carly directed the family puppet shows and studied theater at NYU. Younger brother Scott has parts on One Life to Live and Law & Order under his belt and lives in Los Angeles full-time—something Evans stopped doing several years back. Rounding out the circle are baby sister Shanna and a pair of "strays" the family brought into their Sudbury, Massachusetts, home: Josh, who went from mowing the lawn to moving in when his folks relocated during his senior year in high school; and Demery, who was Evans' roommate until recently.

"Our house was like a hotel," Evans says. "It was a loony-tunes household. If you got arrested in high school, everyone knew: 'Call Mrs. Evans, she'll bail you out.'"

Growing up, they had a special floor put in the basement where all the kids practiced tap-dancing. The party-ready rec room also had a Ping-Pong table and a separate entrance. This was the house kids in the neighborhood wanted to hang at, and this was the kind of family you wanted to be adopted by. Spend an afternoon listening to them dish old dirt and talk over each other and it's easy to see why. Now they're worried they've said too much, laid bare the tender soul of the actor behind the star-spangled superhero outfit, so there's talk of offing the interviewer. I can hear all this from the bathroom, which, of course, is the point of a good stage whisper.

To be sure, no one's said too much, and the more you're brought into the embrace of this boisterous, funny, shit-slinging, demonstrably loving extended family, the more likable and enviable the whole dynamic is.

Sample exchange from today's lunch of baked ziti at a family-style Italian restaurant:

Mom: When he was a kid, he asked me, 'Mom, will I ever think farting isn't funny?'

Chris: You're throwing me under the bus, Ma! Thank you.

Mom: Well, if a dog farts you still find it funny.

Then, back at the apartment, where Mrs. Evans tries to give me good-natured dirt on her son without freaking him out:

Mom: You always tell me when you think a girl is attractive. You'll call me up so excited. Is that okay to say?

Chris: Nothing wrong with that.

Mom: And can I say all the girls you've brought to the house have been very sweet and wonderful? Of course, those are the ones that make it to the house. It's been a long time, hasn't it?

Chris: Looooong time.

Mom: The last one at our house? Was it six years ago?

Chris: No names, Ma!

Mom: But she knocked it out of the park.

Chris: She got drunk and puked at Auntie Pam's house! And she puked on the way home and she puked at our place.

Mom: And that's when I fell in love with her. Because she was real.

We're operating under a no-names rule, so I'm not asking if it's Jessica Biel who made this memorable first impression. She and Evans were serious for a couple of years. But I don't want to picture lovely Jessica Biel getting sick at Auntie Pam's or in the car or, really, anywhere.

East the bulldog ambles over to the table, begging for food.

"That dog is the love of his life," Mrs. Evans says. "Which tells me he'll be an unbelievable parent, but I don't want him to get married right now." She turns to Chris. "The way you are, I just don't think you're ready."

Some other things I learn about Evans from his mom: He hates going to the gym; he was so wound-up as a kid she'd let him stand during dinner, his legs shaking like caged greyhounds; he suffered weekly "Sunday-night meltdowns" over schoolwork and the angst of the sensitive middle-schooler; after she and his father split and he was making money from acting, he bought her the Sudbury family homestead rather than let her leave it.

Eventually his mom and Josh depart, and Evans and I go to work depleting his stash of Bud Light. It feels like we drink Bud Light and talk for days, because we basically do. I arrived early Friday evening; it's Saturday night now and it'll be sunup Sunday before I sleeplessly make my way to catch a train back to New York City. Somewhere in between we slip free of the gravitational pull of the bachelor pad and there's bottle service at a club and a long walk with entourage in tow back to Evans' apartment, where there is some earnest-yet-surreal group singing, piano playing, and chitchat. Evans is fun to talk to, partly because he's an open, self-mocking guy with an explosive laugh and no apparent need to sleep, and partly because when you cut just below the surface, it's clear he's not quite the dude's dude he sometimes plays onscreen and in TV appearances.

From a distance, Chris Evans the movie star seems a predictable, nearly inevitable piece of successful Hollywood packaging come to market. There's his major-release debut as the dorkily unaware jock Jake in the guilty pleasure Not Another Teen Movie (in one memorable scene, Evans has whipped cream on his chest and a banana up his ass). The female-friendly hunk appeal—his character in The Nanny Diaries is named simply Harvard Hottie—is balanced by a kind of casual-Friday, I'm-from-Boston regular-dudeness. Following the siren song of comic-book cash, he was the Human Torch in two Fantastic Four films. As with scrawny Steve Rogers, the Captain America suit beefed up his stature as a formidable screen presence, a bankable leading man, all of which leads us to The Avengers, this season's megabudget, megawatt ensemble in which he stars alongside Scarlett Johansson, Mark Ruffalo, Robert Downey Jr., and Chris Hemsworth.

It all feels inevitable—and yet it nearly didn't happen. Evans repeatedly turned down the Captain America role, fearing he'd be locked into what was originally a nine-picture deal. He was shooting Puncture, about a drug-addicted lawyer, at the time. Most actors doing small-budget legal dramas would jump at the chance to play the lead in a Marvel franchise, but Evans saw a decade of his life flash before his eyes.

What he remembers thinking is this: "What if the movie comes out and it's a success and I just reject all of this? What if I want to move to the fucking woods?"

By "the woods," he doesn't mean a quiet life away from the spotlight, some general metaphorical life escape route. He means the actual woods. "For a long time all I wanted for Christmas were books about outdoor survival," he says. "I was convinced that I was going to move to the woods. I camped a lot, I took classes. At 18, I told myself if I don't live in the woods by the time I'm 25, I have failed."

Evans has described his hesitation at signing on for Captain America. Usually he talks about the time commitment, the loss of what remained of his relative anonymity. On the junkets for the movie, he was open about needing therapy after the studio reduced the deal to six movies and he took the leap. What he doesn't usually mention is that he was racked with anxiety before the job came up.

"I get very nervous," Evans explains. "I shit the bed if I have to present something on stage or if I'm doing press. Because it's just you." He's been known to walk out of press conferences, to freeze up and go silent during the kind of relaxed-yet-high-stakes meetings an actor of his stature is expected to attend: "Do you know how badly I audition? Fifty percent of the time I have to walk out of the room. I'm naturally very pale, so I turn red and sweat. And I have to literally walk out. Sometimes mid-audition. You start having these conversations in your brain. 'Chris, don't do this. Chris, take it easy. You're just sitting in a room with a person saying some words, this isn't life. And you're letting this affect you? Shame on you.'"

Shades of "Sunday-night meltdowns." Luckily the nerves never follow him to the set. "You do your neuroses beforehand, so when they yell 'Action' you can be present," he says.

Okay, there was one on-set panic attack—while Evans was shooting Puncture. "We were getting ready to do a court scene in front of a bunch of people, and I don't know what happened," he says. "It's just your brain playing games with you. 'Hey, you know how we sometimes freak out? What if we did it right now?'"

One of the people who advised Evans to take the Captain America role was his eventual Avengers costar Robert Downey Jr. "I'd seen him around," Downey says. "We share an agent. I like to spend a lot of my free time talking to my agent about his other clients—I just had a feeling about him."

What he told Evans was: This puppy is going to be big, and when it is you're going to get to make the movies you want to make. "In the marathon obstacle course of a career," Downey says, "it's just good to have all the stats on paper for why you're not only a team player but also why it makes sense to support you in the projects you want to do—because you've made so much damned money for the studio."

There's also the fact that Evans had a chance to sign on for something likely to be a kind of watershed moment in the comic-book fascination of our time. "I do think The Avengers is the crescendo of this superhero phase in entertainment—except of course for Iron Man 3," Downey says. "It'll take a lot of innovation to keep it alive after this."

Captain America is the only person left who was truly close to Howard Stark, father of Tony Stark (a.k.a. Iron Man), which meant that Evans' and Downey's story lines are closely linked, and in the course of doing a lot of scenes together, they got to be pals. Downey diagnoses his friend with what he terms "low-grade red-carpet anxiety disorder."

"He just hates the game-show aspect of doing PR," Downey says. "Obviously there's pressure for anyone in this transition he's in. But he will easily triple that pressure to make sure he's not being lazy. That's why I respect the guy. I wouldn't necessarily want to be in his skin. But his motives are pure. He just needs to drink some red-carpet chamomile."

"The majority of the world is empty space," Chris Evans says, watching me as if my brain might explode on hearing this news—or like he might have to fight me if I try to contradict him. We're back at his apartment after a cigarette run through the Combat Zone.

"Empty space!" he says again, slapping the table and sort of yelling. Then, in a slow, breathy whisper, he repeats: "Empty space, empty space. All that we see in the world, the life, the animals, plants, people, it's all empty space. That's amazing!" He slaps the table again. "You want another beer? Gotta be Bud Light. Get dirty—you're in Boston. Okay, organize your thoughts. I gotta take a piss . . ."

My thoughts are this: That this guy who is hugging his dog and talking to me about space and mortality and the trouble with Boston girls who believe crazy gossip about him—this is not the guy I expected to meet. I figured he'd be a meatball. Though, truthfully, I'd never called anyone a meatball until Evans turned me on to the put-down. As in: "My sister Shanna dates meatballs." And, more to the point: "When I do interviews, I'd rather just be the beer-drinking dude from Boston and not get into the complex shit, because I don't want every meatball saying, 'So hey, whaddyathink about Buddhism?'"

At 17, Evans came across a copy of Hermann Hesse's Siddhartha and began his spiritual questing. It's a path of study and struggle that, he says, defines his true purpose in life. "I love acting. It's my playground, it lets me explore. But my happiness in this world, my level of peace, is never going to be dictated by acting," he says. "My goal in life is to detach from the egoic mind. Do you know anything about Eastern philosophy?"

I sip some Bud Light and shake my head sheepishly. "They talk about the egoic mind, the part of you that's self-aware, the watcher, the person you think is driving this machine," he says. "And that separation from self and mind is the root of suffering. There are ways of retraining the way you think. This isn't really supported in Western society, which is focused on 'Go get it, earn it, win it, marry it.'"

Scarlett Johansson says that one of the things she appreciates about Evans is how he steers clear of industry chat when they see each other. "Basically every actor," she says, "including myself, when we finish a job we're like, 'Well, that's it for me. Had a good run. Put me out to pasture.' But Chris doesn't strike me as someone who frets about the next job." The two met on the set of The Perfect Score when they were teenagers and have stayed close; The Avengers is their third movie together. "He has this obviously masculine presence—a dude's dude—and we're used to seeing him play heroic characters," Johansson says, "but he's also surprisingly sensitive. He has close female friends, and you can talk to him about anything. Plus there's that secret song-and-dance, jazz-hands side of Chris. I feel like he grew up with the Partridge Family. He'd be just as happy doing Guys and Dolls as he would Captain America 2."

East needs to do his business, so Evans and I take him up to the roof deck. Evans bought this apartment in 2010 when living in L.A. full-time no longer appealed to him. He came back to stay close to his extended family and the intimate circle of Boston pals he's maintained since high school. The move also seems like a pretty clear keep-it-real hedge against the manic ego-stroking distractions of Hollywood.

"I think my daytime person is different than my nighttime person," Evans says. "With my high-school buddies, we drink beer and talk sports and it's great. The kids in my Buddhism class in L.A., they're wildly intelligent, and I love being around them, but they're not talking about the Celtics. And that's part of me. It's a strange dichotomy. I don't mind being a certain way with some people and having this other piece of me that's just for me."

I asked Downey about Evans' outward regular-Joe persona. "It's complete horseshit," Downey says. "There's an inherent street-smart intelligence there. I don't think he tries to hide it. But he's much more evolved and much more culturally aware than he lets on."

Perhaps the meatball and the meditation can coexist. We argue about our egoic brains and the tao of Boston girls. "I love wet hair and sweatpants," he says in their defense. "I like sneakers and ponytails. I like girls who aren't so la-di-da. L.A. is so la-di-da. I like Boston girls who shit on me. Not literally. Girls who give me a hard time, bust my chops a little."

The chief buster of Evans' chops is, of course, Evans himself. "The problem is, the brain I'm using to dissect this world is a brain formed by it," he says. "We're born into confusion, and we get the blessing of letting go of it." Then he adds: "I think this shit by day. And then night comes and it's like, 'Fuck it, let's drink.'"

And so we do. It's getting late. Again. We should have eaten dinner, but Evans sometimes forgets to eat: "If I could just take a pill to make me full forever, I wouldn't think twice."

We talk about his dog and camping with his dog and why he loves being alone more than almost anything except maybe not being alone. "I swear to God, if you saw me when I am by myself in the woods, I'm a lunatic," he says. "I sing, I dance. I do crazy shit."

Evans' unflagging, all-encompassing enthusiasm is impressive, itself a kind of social intelligence. "If you want to have a good conversation with him, don't talk about the fact that he's famous" was the advice I got from Mark Kassen, who codirected Puncture. "He's a blast, a guy who can hang. For quite a long time. Many hours in a row."

I've stopped looking at the clock. We've stopped talking philosophy and moved into more emotional territory. He asks questions about my 9-month-old son, and then Captain America gets teary when I talk about the wonder of his birth. "I weep at everything," he says. "I emote. I love things so much—I just never want to dilute that."

He talks about how close he feels to his family, how open they all are with each other. About everything. All the time. "The first time I had sex," he says, "I raced home and was like, 'Mom, I just had sex! Where's the clit?'"

Wait, I ask—did she ever tell you?

"Still don't know where it is, man," he says, then breaks into a smile composed of equal parts shit-eating grin and inner peace. "I just don't know. Make some movies, you don't have to know…"

Here is the 2012 Detail Magazine interview with chris evans:

The Avengers' Chris Evans: Just Your Average Beer-Swilling, Babe-Loving Buddhist

The 30-year-old Bud Light-chugging, Beantown-bred star of The Avengers is widely perceived as the ultimate guy's guy. But beneath the bro persona lies a serious student of Buddhism, an unrepentant song-and-dance man, and a guy who talks to his mom about sex. And farts.

By Adam Sachs,

Photographs by Norman Jean Roy

May 2012 Issue

"Should we just kill him and bury his body?" Chris Evans is stage whispering into the impassive blinking light of my digital recorder.

"Chris!" shouts his mother, her tone a familiar-to-anyone-with-a-mother mix of coddling and concern. "Don't say that! What if something happened?"

We're at Evans' apartment, an expansive but not overly tricked-out bachelor-pad-ish loft in a semi-industrial nowheresville part of Boston, hard by Chinatown, near an area sometimes called the Combat Zone. Evans has a fuzzy, floppy, slept-in-his-clothes aspect that'd be nearly unrecognizable if you knew him only by the upright, spit-polished bearing of the onscreen hero. His dog, East, a sweet and slobbery American bulldog, is spread out on a couch in front of the TV. The shelves of his fridge are neatly stacked with much of the world's supply of Bud Light in cans and little else.

On the counter sit a few buckets of muscle-making whey-protein powder that belong to Evans' roommate, Zach Jarvis, an old pal who sometimes tags along on set as a paid "assistant" and a personal trainer who bulked Evans up for his role as the super-ripped patriot in last summer's blockbuster Captain America: The First Avenger. A giant clock on the exposed-brick wall says it's early evening, but Evans operates on his own sense of time. Between gigs, his schedule's all his, which usually translates into long stretches of alone time during the day and longer social nights for the 30-year-old.

"I could just make this . . . disappear," says Josh Peck, another old pal and occasional on-set assistant, in a deadpan mumble, poking at the voice recorder I'd left on the table while I was in the bathroom.

Evans' mom, Lisa, now speaks directly into the microphone: "Don't listen to them—I'm trying to get them not to say these things!"

But not saying things isn't in the Evans DNA. They're an infectiously gregarious clan. Irish-Italians, proud Bostoners, close-knit, and innately theatrical. "We all act, we sing," Evans says. "It was like the fucking von Trapps." Mom was a dancer and now runs a children's theater. First-born Carly directed the family puppet shows and studied theater at NYU. Younger brother Scott has parts on One Life to Live and Law & Order under his belt and lives in Los Angeles full-time—something Evans stopped doing several years back. Rounding out the circle are baby sister Shanna and a pair of "strays" the family brought into their Sudbury, Massachusetts, home: Josh, who went from mowing the lawn to moving in when his folks relocated during his senior year in high school; and Demery, who was Evans' roommate until recently.

"Our house was like a hotel," Evans says. "It was a loony-tunes household. If you got arrested in high school, everyone knew: 'Call Mrs. Evans, she'll bail you out.'"

Growing up, they had a special floor put in the basement where all the kids practiced tap-dancing. The party-ready rec room also had a Ping-Pong table and a separate entrance. This was the house kids in the neighborhood wanted to hang at, and this was the kind of family you wanted to be adopted by. Spend an afternoon listening to them dish old dirt and talk over each other and it's easy to see why. Now they're worried they've said too much, laid bare the tender soul of the actor behind the star-spangled superhero outfit, so there's talk of offing the interviewer. I can hear all this from the bathroom, which, of course, is the point of a good stage whisper.

To be sure, no one's said too much, and the more you're brought into the embrace of this boisterous, funny, shit-slinging, demonstrably loving extended family, the more likable and enviable the whole dynamic is.

Sample exchange from today's lunch of baked ziti at a family-style Italian restaurant:

Mom: When he was a kid, he asked me, 'Mom, will I ever think farting isn't funny?'

Chris: You're throwing me under the bus, Ma! Thank you.

Mom: Well, if a dog farts you still find it funny.

Then, back at the apartment, where Mrs. Evans tries to give me good-natured dirt on her son without freaking him out:

Mom: You always tell me when you think a girl is attractive. You'll call me up so excited. Is that okay to say?

Chris: Nothing wrong with that.

Mom: And can I say all the girls you've brought to the house have been very sweet and wonderful? Of course, those are the ones that make it to the house. It's been a long time, hasn't it?

Chris: Looooong time.

Mom: The last one at our house? Was it six years ago?

Chris: No names, Ma!

Mom: But she knocked it out of the park.

Chris: She got drunk and puked at Auntie Pam's house! And she puked on the way home and she puked at our place.

Mom: And that's when I fell in love with her. Because she was real.

We're operating under a no-names rule, so I'm not asking if it's Jessica Biel who made this memorable first impression. She and Evans were serious for a couple of years. But I don't want to picture lovely Jessica Biel getting sick at Auntie Pam's or in the car or, really, anywhere.

East the bulldog ambles over to the table, begging for food.

"That dog is the love of his life," Mrs. Evans says. "Which tells me he'll be an unbelievable parent, but I don't want him to get married right now." She turns to Chris. "The way you are, I just don't think you're ready."

Some other things I learn about Evans from his mom: He hates going to the gym; he was so wound-up as a kid she'd let him stand during dinner, his legs shaking like caged greyhounds; he suffered weekly "Sunday-night meltdowns" over schoolwork and the angst of the sensitive middle-schooler; after she and his father split and he was making money from acting, he bought her the Sudbury family homestead rather than let her leave it.

Eventually his mom and Josh depart, and Evans and I go to work depleting his stash of Bud Light. It feels like we drink Bud Light and talk for days, because we basically do. I arrived early Friday evening; it's Saturday night now and it'll be sunup Sunday before I sleeplessly make my way to catch a train back to New York City. Somewhere in between we slip free of the gravitational pull of the bachelor pad and there's bottle service at a club and a long walk with entourage in tow back to Evans' apartment, where there is some earnest-yet-surreal group singing, piano playing, and chitchat. Evans is fun to talk to, partly because he's an open, self-mocking guy with an explosive laugh and no apparent need to sleep, and partly because when you cut just below the surface, it's clear he's not quite the dude's dude he sometimes plays onscreen and in TV appearances.

From a distance, Chris Evans the movie star seems a predictable, nearly inevitable piece of successful Hollywood packaging come to market. There's his major-release debut as the dorkily unaware jock Jake in the guilty pleasure Not Another Teen Movie (in one memorable scene, Evans has whipped cream on his chest and a banana up his ass). The female-friendly hunk appeal—his character in The Nanny Diaries is named simply Harvard Hottie—is balanced by a kind of casual-Friday, I'm-from-Boston regular-dudeness. Following the siren song of comic-book cash, he was the Human Torch in two Fantastic Four films. As with scrawny Steve Rogers, the Captain America suit beefed up his stature as a formidable screen presence, a bankable leading man, all of which leads us to The Avengers, this season's megabudget, megawatt ensemble in which he stars alongside Scarlett Johansson, Mark Ruffalo, Robert Downey Jr., and Chris Hemsworth.

It all feels inevitable—and yet it nearly didn't happen. Evans repeatedly turned down the Captain America role, fearing he'd be locked into what was originally a nine-picture deal. He was shooting Puncture, about a drug-addicted lawyer, at the time. Most actors doing small-budget legal dramas would jump at the chance to play the lead in a Marvel franchise, but Evans saw a decade of his life flash before his eyes.

What he remembers thinking is this: "What if the movie comes out and it's a success and I just reject all of this? What if I want to move to the fucking woods?"

By "the woods," he doesn't mean a quiet life away from the spotlight, some general metaphorical life escape route. He means the actual woods. "For a long time all I wanted for Christmas were books about outdoor survival," he says. "I was convinced that I was going to move to the woods. I camped a lot, I took classes. At 18, I told myself if I don't live in the woods by the time I'm 25, I have failed."

Evans has described his hesitation at signing on for Captain America. Usually he talks about the time commitment, the loss of what remained of his relative anonymity. On the junkets for the movie, he was open about needing therapy after the studio reduced the deal to six movies and he took the leap. What he doesn't usually mention is that he was racked with anxiety before the job came up.

"I get very nervous," Evans explains. "I shit the bed if I have to present something on stage or if I'm doing press. Because it's just you." He's been known to walk out of press conferences, to freeze up and go silent during the kind of relaxed-yet-high-stakes meetings an actor of his stature is expected to attend: "Do you know how badly I audition? Fifty percent of the time I have to walk out of the room. I'm naturally very pale, so I turn red and sweat. And I have to literally walk out. Sometimes mid-audition. You start having these conversations in your brain. 'Chris, don't do this. Chris, take it easy. You're just sitting in a room with a person saying some words, this isn't life. And you're letting this affect you? Shame on you.'"

Shades of "Sunday-night meltdowns." Luckily the nerves never follow him to the set. "You do your neuroses beforehand, so when they yell 'Action' you can be present," he says.

Okay, there was one on-set panic attack—while Evans was shooting Puncture. "We were getting ready to do a court scene in front of a bunch of people, and I don't know what happened," he says. "It's just your brain playing games with you. 'Hey, you know how we sometimes freak out? What if we did it right now?'"

One of the people who advised Evans to take the Captain America role was his eventual Avengers costar Robert Downey Jr. "I'd seen him around," Downey says. "We share an agent. I like to spend a lot of my free time talking to my agent about his other clients—I just had a feeling about him."

What he told Evans was: This puppy is going to be big, and when it is you're going to get to make the movies you want to make. "In the marathon obstacle course of a career," Downey says, "it's just good to have all the stats on paper for why you're not only a team player but also why it makes sense to support you in the projects you want to do—because you've made so much damned money for the studio."

There's also the fact that Evans had a chance to sign on for something likely to be a kind of watershed moment in the comic-book fascination of our time. "I do think The Avengers is the crescendo of this superhero phase in entertainment—except of course for Iron Man 3," Downey says. "It'll take a lot of innovation to keep it alive after this."

Captain America is the only person left who was truly close to Howard Stark, father of Tony Stark (a.k.a. Iron Man), which meant that Evans' and Downey's story lines are closely linked, and in the course of doing a lot of scenes together, they got to be pals. Downey diagnoses his friend with what he terms "low-grade red-carpet anxiety disorder."

"He just hates the game-show aspect of doing PR," Downey says. "Obviously there's pressure for anyone in this transition he's in. But he will easily triple that pressure to make sure he's not being lazy. That's why I respect the guy. I wouldn't necessarily want to be in his skin. But his motives are pure. He just needs to drink some red-carpet chamomile."

"The majority of the world is empty space," Chris Evans says, watching me as if my brain might explode on hearing this news—or like he might have to fight me if I try to contradict him. We're back at his apartment after a cigarette run through the Combat Zone.

"Empty space!" he says again, slapping the table and sort of yelling. Then, in a slow, breathy whisper, he repeats: "Empty space, empty space. All that we see in the world, the life, the animals, plants, people, it's all empty space. That's amazing!" He slaps the table again. "You want another beer? Gotta be Bud Light. Get dirty—you're in Boston. Okay, organize your thoughts. I gotta take a piss . . ."

My thoughts are this: That this guy who is hugging his dog and talking to me about space and mortality and the trouble with Boston girls who believe crazy gossip about him—this is not the guy I expected to meet. I figured he'd be a meatball. Though, truthfully, I'd never called anyone a meatball until Evans turned me on to the put-down. As in: "My sister Shanna dates meatballs." And, more to the point: "When I do interviews, I'd rather just be the beer-drinking dude from Boston and not get into the complex shit, because I don't want every meatball saying, 'So hey, whaddyathink about Buddhism?'"

At 17, Evans came across a copy of Hermann Hesse's Siddhartha and began his spiritual questing. It's a path of study and struggle that, he says, defines his true purpose in life. "I love acting. It's my playground, it lets me explore. But my happiness in this world, my level of peace, is never going to be dictated by acting," he says. "My goal in life is to detach from the egoic mind. Do you know anything about Eastern philosophy?"

I sip some Bud Light and shake my head sheepishly. "They talk about the egoic mind, the part of you that's self-aware, the watcher, the person you think is driving this machine," he says. "And that separation from self and mind is the root of suffering. There are ways of retraining the way you think. This isn't really supported in Western society, which is focused on 'Go get it, earn it, win it, marry it.'"

Scarlett Johansson says that one of the things she appreciates about Evans is how he steers clear of industry chat when they see each other. "Basically every actor," she says, "including myself, when we finish a job we're like, 'Well, that's it for me. Had a good run. Put me out to pasture.' But Chris doesn't strike me as someone who frets about the next job." The two met on the set of The Perfect Score when they were teenagers and have stayed close; The Avengers is their third movie together. "He has this obviously masculine presence—a dude's dude—and we're used to seeing him play heroic characters," Johansson says, "but he's also surprisingly sensitive. He has close female friends, and you can talk to him about anything. Plus there's that secret song-and-dance, jazz-hands side of Chris. I feel like he grew up with the Partridge Family. He'd be just as happy doing Guys and Dolls as he would Captain America 2."

East needs to do his business, so Evans and I take him up to the roof deck. Evans bought this apartment in 2010 when living in L.A. full-time no longer appealed to him. He came back to stay close to his extended family and the intimate circle of Boston pals he's maintained since high school. The move also seems like a pretty clear keep-it-real hedge against the manic ego-stroking distractions of Hollywood.

"I think my daytime person is different than my nighttime person," Evans says. "With my high-school buddies, we drink beer and talk sports and it's great. The kids in my Buddhism class in L.A., they're wildly intelligent, and I love being around them, but they're not talking about the Celtics. And that's part of me. It's a strange dichotomy. I don't mind being a certain way with some people and having this other piece of me that's just for me."

I asked Downey about Evans' outward regular-Joe persona. "It's complete horseshit," Downey says. "There's an inherent street-smart intelligence there. I don't think he tries to hide it. But he's much more evolved and much more culturally aware than he lets on."

Perhaps the meatball and the meditation can coexist. We argue about our egoic brains and the tao of Boston girls. "I love wet hair and sweatpants," he says in their defense. "I like sneakers and ponytails. I like girls who aren't so la-di-da. L.A. is so la-di-da. I like Boston girls who shit on me. Not literally. Girls who give me a hard time, bust my chops a little."

The chief buster of Evans' chops is, of course, Evans himself. "The problem is, the brain I'm using to dissect this world is a brain formed by it," he says. "We're born into confusion, and we get the blessing of letting go of it." Then he adds: "I think this shit by day. And then night comes and it's like, 'Fuck it, let's drink.'"

And so we do. It's getting late. Again. We should have eaten dinner, but Evans sometimes forgets to eat: "If I could just take a pill to make me full forever, I wouldn't think twice."

We talk about his dog and camping with his dog and why he loves being alone more than almost anything except maybe not being alone. "I swear to God, if you saw me when I am by myself in the woods, I'm a lunatic," he says. "I sing, I dance. I do crazy shit."

Evans' unflagging, all-encompassing enthusiasm is impressive, itself a kind of social intelligence. "If you want to have a good conversation with him, don't talk about the fact that he's famous" was the advice I got from Mark Kassen, who codirected Puncture. "He's a blast, a guy who can hang. For quite a long time. Many hours in a row."

I've stopped looking at the clock. We've stopped talking philosophy and moved into more emotional territory. He asks questions about my 9-month-old son, and then Captain America gets teary when I talk about the wonder of his birth. "I weep at everything," he says. "I emote. I love things so much—I just never want to dilute that."

He talks about how close he feels to his family, how open they all are with each other. About everything. All the time. "The first time I had sex," he says, "I raced home and was like, 'Mom, I just had sex! Where's the clit?'"

Wait, I ask—did she ever tell you?

"Still don't know where it is, man," he says, then breaks into a smile composed of equal parts shit-eating grin and inner peace. "I just don't know. Make some movies, you don't have to know…"

If someone doesn't want to check the link, the anon sent the full interview!

[cheekygreenty]

Little Witch - Part 14

The Darkling x Reader

You felt fine after dinner, the food quickly replenishing your dwindled physique, but you didn't go back to work. You took Aleksander's advice and took the rest of the day to rest and take your mind off the countless tasks you had. There was one thing you needed to do though and that was thank Zoya for today.

She didn't have to do any of it, in fact, you believed she hated you from the minute you interrupted Aleksander's meeting. You were told by a servant she was out training Inferni's and so you made your way down to the Etherialki training grounds. She stood there, the image of a goddess. Her dark hair fell down her blue kefta in defined curls, collecting small snowflakes.

There was no indication she'd been involved in a deadly attack a mere 4 hours ago. Saints, I think I have a crush on Zoya. Nevertheless, you walked over to her, calling out her name to grab her attention.

'Deputy, how are you feeling?' She looked worried yet relieved to see you standing in front of her on both of your legs.

'Y/N will do Zoya.'

'Alright then'

'Thank you for today. I don't know what came over me.'

'We all have our moments. Some of us just hide them better' You couldn't tell whether that was a dig at you or not.

'You're an amazing soldier Zoya. I'm very impressed'

'Well I didn't just sleep my way to the top if that's what you're implying.' She turned her addicting gaze away from you, studying the young Infernis.

'I beg your pardon?' You were taken aback.

'How's your leg?' She tried to change the topic but you weren't ready to.

'What do you mean Zoya, spit it out.'

'You know what I mean Y/N.' Why was she avoiding the conversation if she brought it up in the first place?

'Are you and Gener-' Is this another thing he had lied to me about? You vaguely remember thinking the two had been involved when you seen them in the same room but it passed quickly, surely he would have told you, especially if it was with one of his most trusted Grisha? The thought was another painful blow to your gut. They just kept on coming. You couldn't finish your sentence for she already answered it.

'No.'

'Zoya'

'Not anymore... Alina is here now' The strong feisty woman was gone now, in her place was a hurt and rejected woman. You were old enough to see it, you had been her before, hell you were her now. You looked at her striking beauty, thought about her incredible skills, and then stupidly compared yourself to her. If he rejected her, you're next. Your silence must have comforted her more than words could, for she shrugged her shoulders and said

'He keeps saying she's his equal, the day to his night' His equal. That's what Alina said.

'You don't need anyone Zoya. I can promise you you'll amount to great things on your own.' Despite the hurt you felt, you focused on her.

'Well as of right now I'm stuck to skiff trips and when you request me' You eyed her inquisitively 'Our dear General's doings.' she admitted.

'What gave you such an honor' you teased.

'I got into a riff with the precious Sun-Summoner after she vexed me.' She shut her eyes tightly as if trying to forget the memory.

'She doesn't strike me as the vexing type-' Your conversation was quickly interrupted when an Inferni accidentally set alight more than just the mannequin and Zoya scrambled to put it out, scolding the boy in the process.

'I'll leave you to it then'

You walked away, hurt and on the verge of tears. You needed to speak to Aleksander, you were sick of him lying to you but you were even more tired of feeling that severe urge to cry every time you thought about him. You came here to do your job and to show everyone you had your powers under control, yet all you've done so far is the opposite. Saints be damned you would walk away from your position because of a complicated relationship, you were better than that. But you also recognized that if you confronted Aleksander about all of this, he would either have to tell you about his plans for Alina or lie again, and you knew he would lie. It was a vicious cycle, one that wouldn't end. It was heartbreaking knowing that the man who claimed to never stop loving you could lie to you so easily.

You were right to question your trust in him, he never gave you a reason not to.

***

He was sitting at his desk, back turned towards you. You hesitated, the thought of running out the door and locking yourself in your room sounding pretty attractive. Maybe a good cry will fix this.

'Y/N I thought I told you to rest' He spoke calmly, his hand never dropping the pen. You shut the doors, not wanting the guards outside to hear what you were about to say. This made him turn around.

'We need to talk'

He dropped the pen and paper and stood up, indicating he was all ears. You glued your eyes to his knowing your vulnerability peeked through but you didn't care to hide it.

'What are your plans for me, Aleksander?'

He cocked his head to the side, confused. 'What?'

'Why keep me around when Alina is here?'

You were never the jealous kind, but you came to realize this wasn't jealousy. It was disappointment and aching after being away from him for almost a century. You had built up this life in your head, one where everything was perfect and Aleksander hadn't changed but you raised the bar too high. The bad parts of Aleksander faded away with each year and the best parts of him enhanced in your mind. You had forgotten what he was truly like, plus coming to terms with the fact that he lived a seemingly happy life while you were gone stung a bit too. With each day, the disappointment turned into hurt and anger.

'Y/N I already told you, I have a plan.'

'So you expect me to watch you and Alina fawn over each other while I stay in the shadows being a dutiful Second in Command? I may be loyal but I'm not going to blindly follow along Aleksander, not anymore.' It's making me miserable.

His hands reached out for you but you moved away. 'You know I love you Y/N' He said as if the foolish statement would make your worries and anger melt away.

'Then act like it'

'It's not that simple.'

'It never is, is it?' You bitterly laughed. What's the point of loving somebody if you're not willing to do everything to make them stop hurting?

'Why won't you tell me?' Your voice was a whisper he barely registered. 'Do you not trust me? Cause I'll admit it right now, I may love you, but I don't trust you Aleksander.'

Your admission hit him like a pile of bricks. He was brought back to when you first met, your shaking body radiating hostility as you rode in the carriage with him. He tried to assure you you were safe, you were one of his Grisha now, but you were having none of it. You didn't trust anybody for months after you arrived in the Little Palace, especially him and right now, it was all back to square one.

'Have I really given you that many reasons to not trust me?' It had been so long since he had somebody to care for and love that he forgot how to act around you. Perhaps he was back to square one too.

'Yes. Your sly comments about killing the King and finding the stag, your relationship with Alina, even with Zoya- Aleksander you're lying to me every day and you think I'll still be compliant. I'm not the same Y/N you remember.'

'You know what I want Y/N. You've always known'

'I do, but I need to know how you're going to do it all. How can I be supportive when I don't know what the hell is going on around me. A goodnight kiss every now and then won't fix this if you're doing the same to somebody else'

'Is this what this is? Your way of saying I'm fucking my Sun-Summoner on the side?'

'I never said that. All I wanted to know was why I'm not in on the plan that's supposed to give us more power. Is it because I'm a loose cannon, are you scared of what I'll do if I won't agree with you?'

You were sure of one thing; while you were gone nobody dared to disagree with the Darkling and he had grown to get used to it. Power corrupts, resistance humbles.

Somehow you still held your composure, albeit it was difficult. Aleksander however, was losing his temperate demeanor. He was pacing the lengths of the room and his hand had brushed through his hair countless times, the image of someone who was backed into a corner they couldn't get out of.

'I haven't told you because I don't want you to get burned. If it goes wrong it would be good to have some of us not hanged for treason would it not?' Bullshit. He must've forgotten you had the power of a heartrenderer. Aleksander was lying right through his teeth.

'You and I both know that's not true. If history is any indication then they'll turn on all Grisha.'

'And you'll be here to make sure they don't.' He tried to reason but you let out a loud laugh.

'Up until 2 weeks ago you didn't even consider giving me my old post back, do you really expect me to believe you changed your strategy in a matter of days?'

He stayed silent and settled against his desk. His crossed arms showed he was in no mood to discuss any further but you weren't done. He was going to tell you everything whether he liked it or not. You were sick of being kept in the dark. You had your title of Deputy back now, yet you still had no idea what truly went on and had no real sway against the top-ranking Grisha who no doubt were in on the plans. Power corrupts, resistance humbles, and you were done being humbled.

'Aleksander don't make me force it out of you' As soon as the words left your mouth you tried to find some part of you that regretted them but came up empty-handed.

His head whipped around with whiplash speed. You could see the internal battle going on behind his eyes of whether you would actually make do on your threat. You didn't know whether it was empty or whether you actually would do it but it was tempting.

'You said you changed, but I don't think you did' He retorted, eyeing you up and down with a look of displeasure. The situation was a shift from the usual, this time he was the one losing control and spiraling whereas you were the perfect example of a calm before the storm. The Little Witch he had grown to love and worship.

'I'm stronger, I can be stronger. I am limitless' You prided yourself on the restraint you'd shown thus far. You were in a palace full of Grisha, of Healers, a Tailor, a Sun-Summoner yet you didn't make any moves to take anything. The old Y/N wouldn't hesitate to take what wasn't hers. Maybe that's why you would burn out, lose as you gained. This time you knew how to do it properly, how to be an Elemental who yielded it all.

'Your quench for power is contending mine, Sweet Y/N.' For the second time in your life, you saw fear in Aleksander's eyes. He always had a feeling you yearned to have a stronger grasp of the Second-Army and for so long, even now, you tried to lie to yourself and deny it. But deep down some voices always whispered 'it's only right to have a leader who represents them all'.

'Wrong. I already have it, I just need to use it.' You raised your hands slowly, showing him you meant what you said. I'm really doing this. Your heart dropped when his raised too. He's willing to hurt me to protect his lies.

'There's no going back from this' You felt weirdly ready. Although you had never used your Grisha powers against Aleksander in a fight, you had a hefty slice of hope in you that you could overpower him. You had what he had and more.

'Y/N stop this.'

'Why? So that you'll lie to me again? Make me the other woman? It's inevitable that it comes to this' Your heart picked up in speed as your breathing became rapid. The influx of power at your fingertips itched to get out and make itself useful and containing it was painful.

Shadows pooled on the ground and around your feet yet you didn't know who they belonged to. Technically they're all his, I just know how to control them.

Panic shot through you as you felt a tendril of the black nothingness grasp around your wrist. No. You let yourself go, snapping the shackle and mirroring it on him. He had never experienced cruelty at the hands of his own power until now and was completely powerless as the black restraints rendered him useless. You concentrated on his pulse, soothing it to its normal rate then into a slow hum, relaxing his mind. This all felt so wrong yet so right.

'I'm feeling merciful today. When you feel up to it, tell me everything, or else I promise I won't hesitate Aleksander. We're the same in that manner.'

You watched as he gathered himself, anger rising onto his face. His moves were rigid and stiff despite your previous soothing.

'Time is ticking' Before he could say another word, you left the defeated Darkling, instilled with a sudden sense of pride.

______

Part 15

Here's my masterlist where you can find previous parts of this series!

Taglist (Tell me if u want to be added to the Little Witch taglist!)

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @patdsinner33 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl @exo-1204 @houseofdupree @oberonpascal @eireduchess

[farfromsugafanfic]

Sutures - Chapter Ten: Amiodarone

Genre: Soulmates AU, Idiots to Lovers, slight Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Yoongi/Named Reader

Warnings (chapter specific): family member hospitalization, therapy, angst if you squint

Synopsis: “A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.” –Jean de la Fontaine

There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?

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The first thing you felt--before you opened your eyes--was Yoongi's white T-shirt against your cheek and the warmth of his skin beneath it. His arm was around you and his hand rested on the peak of your hip. You opened your eyes and looked up to see his hair splayed across his forehead and his lips pouted.

You smiled as you slowly removed yourself from Yoongi's arms. He stirred as you stood up and were away from his grasp, but he softly moved as he rolled onto his side and his arms reached for where you had once been. You could get used to waking up next to Yoongi every morning. Something about the way he missed you--even when he wasn't awake--made your heart swell.

You quickly pushed those thoughts away as you took two mugs from the table and flipped them right side up. While you were used to cheap hotels with packages of instant coffee and--if you were lucky--an electric tea kettle, this hotel, however, had a full coffee maker and a few coffee brands to choose from. You chose a brand you recognized and placed it in the coffee maker.

It wasn't long before the entire room smelled of coffee. As you were pouring the second cup of coffee, you felt a soft touch on your waist and turned to catch Yoongi's soft smile and messy hair as he reached for one of the mugs.

"Thanks," he said, his voice raspy and deep.

You nodded and took a sip of your coffee and sat down at the table, Yoongi soon following and sitting across from you.

"You like it black?"

"Yeah," you said. "My dad would always drink it black and when I was old enough that's how he made it for me. It just kind of stuck."

"Do you miss them?"

"Of course," you said. "It's hard when they're so far away, but I don't regret staying here. I can make a living here, more so than I could in the US."

"When did you see them last?"

"Around a year ago. Minki came with me and it was the first time he'd been to the US and the first time he met my family. They didn't like him that much. I guess I should've listened to them." You chuckled sardonically and took a large sip of coffee, creating a silence--while not uncomfortable--had a small bit of tension laced in. "What about you? You don't get to see your family much either, right? Being an idol and all?"

The question caused him to sit up straight and meet your eyes before quickly looking back down at the wooden table. "Uh, yeah, we usually see our families a couple of times a year. Usually towards the end of the year and then sporadically throughout. Some see their families more often cause they live near Seoul, but getting to Daegu is hard. We didn't always get along when I first moved, so it was hard for a while."

"Oh," you said. While all families fight and disagree, you couldn't imagine not talking to your family or not having their support. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he said. "We've moved past it. It was a long time ago. We talk more often now and they really want to meet you."

You laughed, not sure if it was from the nerves of thinking about meeting his family or simply because the idea itself was laughable because you weren't in a relationship. "Why? I mean, they know what we're trying to do, right?"

"Yeah," he said. "They're convinced it won't work though. We're soulmates. We'll always come back to each other."

"It's worked before. Pairs of soulmates able to distance themselves and move on. I think we can do it."

"Yeah," he said, his words punctuated by sips of coffee. "Yeah, we can." There were a few moments of silence before he set his mug down and his eyes met yours. "So, I promised you a proper date, but after everything that happened yesterday, do you want to risk going out into the city?"

"Not really," you said. "I don't even want to leave the room. I want to see the city, but it makes me nervous just thinking about going back out there."

Yoongi reached across the table, his fingers brushing over the back of your hand. "I'll bring you back someday when we can properly wander the city."

Your stomach flipped. You knew it was probably just an empty promise and supposed to be comforting, but considering you had just talked about distancing yourselves from one another, it seemed unwise to promise, even something empty and trivial.

---

Two hours later and the two of you were laid on the bed, close, but not touching. Empty plates littered the bedside tables and each of you held a wine glass in your hand. You smiled as you sipped the deep red alcohol and felt as a buzz came over your senses. It wasn't unpleasant, just like a small vibration in your head. The same one that had convinced you to sleep with Yoongi the first time you met him.

"You're sure this isn't too much?" you asked, glancing down at the nearly three hundred dollar room service bill.

Yoongi laughed. "You really don't have to worry about it."

"It makes me feel bad," you said. "Will you let me pay for something later?"

"If it makes you feel better." His fingers glided over the skin of your left hand that rested on the bed, dangerously close to his thigh.

The couple in the movie you were watching kissed and you felt a stirring low in your stomach. It had been so long since you'd felt Yoongi's lips on yours. You knew he was feeling the same way, as he squirmed slightly beside you.

"You feel it, too?"

"Yeah," he said. "We need to try and resist it."

"Didn't the therapist say to try and get through it with mainly friendly things?"

"I think so."

His arm came around you and his skin felt like ice on a sunburn. You nearly let out a moan. You wanted to feel his lips on your neck and his hands on your thighs. The bruising way he grabbed your skin without leaving any bruises. How his hair looked pushed back and the way his lips swelled after even the softest of kisses.

"Yoongi, can--can I kiss you?"

"I don't think that's exactly friendly."

"Just one," you said. "It'll be less than we did last time this happened."

"All right," he said. "But, we can't let it go too far."

You nodded and shifted so that you faced him, the front of your body pressed into his side. His hand came to rest on the small of you back and his lips came to meet yours before you'd fully closed your eyes.

They were soft, like always. You could taste the red wine on his lips and the hesitation as he pushed the tip of his tongue into your mouth. His hand bunched the fabric of your T-shirt and your hands laced in his hair. You never wanted to let go.

Yoongi pulled away first, although his eyes were pained as he did so. He reached up and smoothed your hair back.

"Damn," he said. "If only I'd met you before Jihee."

"Yoongi, you can't mean that."

"Maybe if it was a different time, or if I wasn't an idol, I don't know, but I like to think there's a universe where we work out."

Your lips formed words you hadn't thought of yet when your phone vibrated on the bed beside you. You reached for it and saw it was your mom. It was nearing 9 p.m. in Los Angeles and your mom normally called you just after dinner. 

"I--uh--have to take this." 

---

You walked into the bathroom and answered the phone as you shut the door. 

"Mom? Hey, what's going on?" 

"Sumi!" Your mom's voice sounded panicked. "Are you still in Japan?" 

"Yeah, we're flying back to Korea tomorrow?" You paused. "Is everything okay? You don't usually call me at this time." 

"Well, I don't want to worry you. I want you to enjoy the rest of your time in Japan, okay?"

"Okay..."

"Grandma fell and is in the hospital. She broke her wrist and the doctors say her blood sugar was too low. They don't know what caused it yet, but they're going to monitor her for a few days." 

You nodded and already felt the tears forming in your eyes. Your grandmother was nearing ninety and you knew your time with her was limited, but she'd been the one to encourage you to stay in Korea and do what you wanted. She always knew and wanted what was best for you and you loved her more than anyone for it. 

"Okay," you said, your voice cracking. "Is there anything I can do?" 

"Call when you get back tomorrow. If she's feeling better, I'm sure she'd love to talk to you." 

"Of course. I'll call as soon as I'm back." You reached up and wiped the few tears that had managed to squeeze out. "Just keep me updated."

You heard a soft knock on the door as you hung up the door. You opened it and met with a soft-eyed Yoongi, his arms almost immediately coming to rest on your hips. 

"Everything okay?" 

"Uh. yeah," you said. "My grandma's in the hospital. It's not too concerning at the moment, I just, uh, get a bit emotional when it comes to her." 

He nodded and led you back to the bed. He didn't say anything else, just electing to keep one of his arms around your shoulders and turn the volume on the movie up. He handed you an unopened bag of cookies as if he knew it was exactly what you needed. 

---

A few days later

"So, how are things going?" the therapist asked, her notebook resting on her lap and her glasses slid down the bridge of her nose. 

"Uh, well, we get along better now. I-I think we understand each other better now. But, we've run into something a little more worrisome." 

"What's that?" 

"Well, we had a fight a while ago. I'm fairly close with his other members and one of them was trying to comfort me and when he touched me, I burned him." 

"Yeah, I also have a weird emotional attachment to her. Like, my emotions are tied to hers. If she's sad, then I feel overwhelmingly sad until she's happy again." 

You turned to Yoongi with your lips pursed in curiosity. "What?" 

"Oh, I thought you'd caught onto to that." 

You had noticed that Yoongi had seemed to understand you better recently. He was always there whenever your mood flatlined, you soon found Yoongi coming with a snack or a cup of tea. Sometimes he stuck around and sometimes he didn't, but he never failed to jumpstart your mood.

"Is this happening constantly or only after a conflict?" 

"I'm always tuned into her emotions. However, negative emotions always come through the strongest, whether caused by me or not." 

You felt him looking at you and it caused your cheeks to heat. "Oh, the burning happened twice. Once as we mentioned and the second time I burnt through another's T-shirt, but I didn't actually burn him." 

The therapist nodded and chewed on the end of her pen. "There aren't many precedents for these sorts of things, as you know, soulmates are rare. It's even rarer for a pair to decide they don't want to be together. The physical symptoms we've seen before were not that different from the ones you're exhibiting." She jotted down a few notes and flipped back to a previous page. "Now that you're exhibiting these symptoms though, it means that you've grown to the stage where we can begin to back off the connection.

"The only things you two need to do is to try and minimize the conflict between the two of you, continue resisting urges to the best of your ability, and we will be prescribing some medication. Since such a high profile soulmates case has come up, the interest in research recently has increased and so your medical treatment may change. So, you'll need to go in for a checkup in after about a week on the new medication."

"I have a quick question," Yoongi said. "My, uh, parents really want to meet Sumi. They know we're trying to break this and everything, but we have some time off and I was wondering if that would hurt things if she came with me to Daegu?"

The therapist shrugged. "I don't see why it would. It's perfectly fine for the two of you to act as friends and you have to stay together until the bond is completely severed. However, if something feels off during the visit, leave." 

You looked at Yoongi. He'd left you speechless for the second time during the appointment. He never brought up meeting his parents, only that they wanted to meet you. Your palms went clammy and you began to pick at the skin around your fingernails. You wished you'd brought your needles.

---

"You never mentioned actually meeting your parents," you said, carrying your prescription and ducking into the car before anyone could catch sight of you and Yoongi. 

"I didn't really think it was happening, but, I don't know. If we only have one soulmate, I want them to meet mine."

"Okay," you said. "I-uh-I just don't have much time to prepare." 

"What? Why would you need to prepare?"

"So they'll like me." 

"You don't need to worry about that, Sumi. They'll love you." 

---

Mom (3:45 am): Sumi!

You (3:47 am): Yes? Is everything all right?

Mom (3:49 am): Hey, isn't it early there? Shouldn't you be asleep?

You (3:50 am): It's all right. How's Grandma?

Mom (3:52 am): Oh, she's fine. She's getting discharged now. She's actually in fairly good spirits. You'll never guess what arrived this morning.

Sumi (3:53 am): What?

Mom (3:55 am):

Mom (3:55 am): From Min Yoongi. It made her so happy. Give him our thanks.

[chrisdiels-babygirl]

Chapter three: I will always keep you safe

Amora found herself wide awake on Friday morning she couldn't sleep, she briefly thought about her date with the man she'd met in Maria's café on Tuesday, she had to admit the thought of going out with him tonight made her feel a little queezy and a little unnerved, the only reason she had said yes was because her best friend Carol had been going on and on about how Amora needed to put herself out their more and date some guys, Amora remembered how Carol joked one time and said "you never know you might meet Mr right", but if Amora was being completely honest with herself she was also disappointed about how Christopher hadn't asked her on a date, she would much rather go out with him than the guy from the café, she then allowed her thoughts to wander to Christopher and how she'd grown so fond of their interactions in the mornings, she now knew how he liked his coffee, that the intimidating man who was always with him was called zabdiel, that he and Chris had been best friends basically their whole lives along with their three other best friends and how he was not actually that intimidating once you got to know him, rather he was more like a gigantic teddy bear, but zabdiel told her never to tell anyone else that because he had a reputation to up hold, which Amora remembered made her laugh in the moment.

Amora was just peacefully laying on her back facing up at the ceiling when suddenly she heard loud rapid knocking on her front door, she got out of bed and padded across the floor wondering who the hell it could be at this time in the morning.

Amora opened the door to two men with caramel like skin, both had black hair but one of them also had a beard and a pair of black sun glasses on, Amora gave them a questioning look, she had no idea who they were and thought to herself they must have the wrong apartment. The man without the sun glasses spoke first "are you Amora" he asked her, Amora wanted to know how the hell he knew her name and where she lived, she cautiously nodded her head yes. The man with the sun glasses on then stepped forward and forcefully grabbed Amora's wrist and said "you need to come with us", she panicked, where they trying to kidnap her, she tried to yank her wrist back "I'm not going anywhere with you" her voice raising and becoming more panicked, when suddenly in walked through her door zabdiel, "zabdiel" Amora yelled with relief as she ran to hug him, he carefully tucked her in his arms, she gazed up at him as she pointed a finger back at the other two men "their trying to kidnap me" she frantically told him, zabdiel looked up from her face and the gentle look he had been looking at Amora with vanished and was replaced by the mean glare she knew all to well, "what does she mean you tried to kidnap her" he asked coldly, the guy who had previously grabbed Amora stood forward and said "we told her she had to come with us" "thats it" zabdiel snapped, he was loosing his patience, the two men stood back with their heads hung low. Zabdiel turned to Amora "I'm sorry about these two idiots they appear to have left their manor's at home" zabdiel said staring at them with a look that could have killed them, he then turned to Amora and his gentle gaze was back "Christopher sent me to get you, he needs to talk to you" Amora looked at zabdiel with an apologetic look on her face and said "I'm sorry zabdi, but I've work, can it not wait till later", the two men behind her raising their heads with shocked looks on their faces at the mention of the nickname, as they both knew very well he hated that nickname and they were even more surprised when zabdiel didnt give out to her for it, "No it can't wait, Amora please its important" he said it so softly she almost mistook it for a whisper, she nervously bit her lip and pondered the idea, Amora strolled over to her nightstand to pick up her phone, she dialed her work number and told them she was sick and she wouldn't be in today, zabdiel smiled at her, grateful that he had managed to persuade her, "why don't you get dressed we'll wait outside the door for you.

Amora stepped outside her apartment door and zabdiel was right there just like he told her he would be, to tell the truth the other two men made her uneasy and she didnt really want to be left alone with them. Amora sat next to zabdiel in the car, the whole time her eyes never left her lap, she felt intimidated under the other two men's gaze.

Finally the car pulled up to a house that appeared to be more like a mansion. Amora stepped out of the car and zabdiel led her into the house, the other two men walked ahead of them into what she presumed to be the living room. As soon as Amora stepped foot into the living room her eyes wandered around the room, she first noticed Christopher, which made her feel a little more at ease, she didnt know why but she just felt safe around him, she noticed another man he was short with beautiful dark skin that was covered in tattoos and he had blonde hair, he didnt look as intimidating as the two who'd shown up at her door with zabdiel, there was also a girl, who Amora noticed had beautiful caramel coloured skin, short black hair and her arms were also covered in colourful tattoos, she sat on the sofa with a bored expression on her face. Amora's eyes flickered back to Christopher, he walked closer to her and looked at zabdiel "was everything alright" he asked while his gaze flickered between zabdiel and her, zabdiel looked over at the two men they'd arrived with and then back to Chris "Joel and Erick scared the shit out of her, but apart from that yeah everything is fine", Amora thought to herself so thats their names, Christopher sharply turned his head towards them with a mean and cold stare on his face, the two men instantly hung their heads low knowing they were in for it later. Christopher turned to Amora and with a soft look in his eyes he said to her "we need to talk, I have to tell you some important things", the girl on the sofa snickered under her breath but Christopher still heard her and he was not remotely impressed. Christopher stuck his hand out for Amora to grab onto, she quickly looked up at zabdiel as if asking if she should go with him, zabdiel gently nodded his head yes, Amora softly placed her hand in Chris' as he was leading her off she heard the man with the sun glasses say "$5 says she runs for the hills when he tells her", she then heard zabdiel smack him over the back of the head and say "Cállate pendejo".

*Amora's POV*

As I sat on a leather chair in what appeared to be Christopher's office, I nervously played with the hem of my sun dress waiting on him to talk. He looked nervous, like he didnt know how to start or if he even wanted to. Christopher looked up with a solemn look on his face and I suddenly knew that whatever Chris was about to say was serious. "Amora I have to tell you something important, but you have to promise to stay calmb and not freak out ok?" I nodded my head yes, he took a deep breath and with a stone cold expression he said "Amora I'm in a gang", I laughed "yeah right, and I'm secretly related to the queen of England", "Amora I'm not joking I'm the leader of a very well known gang", he then went on to explain how the rest of the guys outside are also apart of his gang, his most important members, but he then also went on to explain how he had many enemies but his main rival was an american gang and that the man who I was supposed to go out with tonight was apart of that gang and he was really trying to kidnap me and he then explained how I'd have to go away with him at least until he could eliminate the threat against my life. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach and like I was gonna pass out, Christopher quickly noticed how pale I'd gotten all of a sudden "Amora why don't you lay down on the sofa, I know this is a lot of information to process" he helped me to the sofa in the corner of his office, I layed down "I can't believe this someone's trying to kill me" I gasped out, Chris looked me in the eyes "I will always protect you Amora, I'll never let anything happen to you" was the last thing I heard before passing out.

*Narrator's POV*

Amora woke up to the faint sound of talking in the distance, she sat up, the office was now empty, the door left slightly ajar. She tip toed out of the office so as to not draw any attention to herself, she peeked around the corner of the living room to see Christopher telling everyone to start packing as they would be leaving early tomorrow morning, Christopher caught Amora out of the corner of his eye, he instantly turned his attention to her "you're awake, are you ok bonita?" he rushed to her side to check her like a worried mother, Amora shyly smiled at his concern, "we're leaving, where are we going?", Christopher gave her a sorrowful look "yes we have to leave to keep you safe cariño". The girl Amora recognized from earlier scoffed "this is bullshit" Chris snapped his head in her direction so sharply Amora thought he'd break his neck "Cállate Natalie" Amora had never heard Chris sound so mean, "oh come on Chris this is fucking bullshit and you know it, we're all just supposed to pack up and move to protect little miss princess there huh, tell me why we shouldn't just give that little bitch to jonah right now, better her dead than us", Christopher was seething with anger and Amora felt the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, she turned and ran back to Christopher's office where she had previously been, as she closed the door she could hear Chris screaming at Natalie, before now Amora would have never been able to picture Chris so angry, then again she'd only known him a week, but she couldn't believe it, her Chris who was so gentle and sweet with her was actually a well known gang leader, this sounded like something straight out of a book. Amora sat on the sofa crying, she didnt want to die, she heard a gentle knock on the door and Chris poked his head in, he quickly scanned her face and seen the tears streaming down her pink cheeks, her eyes were puffy and looked sore from her rubbing them, he quickly sat down and cradled Amora on his lap, running his fingers through her hair while he rubbed her back with his other hand, making soothing shushing noises "Amora don't listen to her, she's just a bitter, selfish bitch and besides didnt I tell you I'd always protect you and I'd never let anything happen to you" he softly spoke looking into her tear filled eyes, Amora wiped her eyes one last time, sniffling as she nodded her head yes, "well I always keep my promises cariño".

Later that night Amora found herself struggling to fall asleep in the big dark room Christopher had previously shown her to after her little break down, she felt restless and a little scared she was in a strange house. Amora sighed she couldn't take it anymore, she yanked the sheets off her body her bare legs cold as she was only wearing one of Christopher's t shirts as a nightdress, she tip toed out of her room and down to the door at the end of the hallway, she gently opened the door, it squeaking in the process, Christopher lay asleep in the bed his mouth wide open with soft snores leaving his perfect lips, Amora had to stop herself from giggling at how cute he looked, she carefully tip toed across the floor but one of the floor boards creaked Christopher being startled sat upright on the bed his eyes quickly focused on Amora standing in front of him wearing his t shirt, her curls messy and a tired look on her face, concern flashed across his face "Lo que está mal cariño" he watched as she shifted from one foot to the other with a shy look on her face "I couldn't sleep and I was wondering if I could stay in here with you" she timidly replied while figiting with the hem of his t shirt she was wearing, a sleepy smile made its way onto Chris' face "Por supuesto que puedes bebé" he softly whispered while pulling the blanket back for her, she climbed into the bed, Christopher pulled the covers over them and then enveloped her in his embrace "¿Es este bebé bien", she nodded her head against his chest inhaling his scent. Amora drifted off to sleep wondering what tomorrow would bring.

Hey guys this is chapter three of The Gang Leader I hope you liked it😊

[lovemecharlie]

NEW YORK MINUTE

An interactive story where you'll get to read and play along as your favorite wife and make choices. Good luck to you all and enjoy!

The First Night

When the private jet touched ground in NYC, Erik and his wives transferred to a matte black 12-passenger van where Bastion sat in the passenger seat to give the address of the house she'd rented via Noirbnb. The driver was an older black man named Sam and Erik watched him closely as he kept looking at Bastion.

“Erik, did you just hear that foolishness. JoJo said she tryna go to Dubai. For what,” Kimora cackled.

“Why Poosy? Just why,” Homie asked.

“I'm not entertaining this,” Hennessy chuckled.

“Think about it,” Josephine said launching into explanation while the others laughed.

“Eyes on the road, nigga,” Erik snapped suddenly causing everyone to look to the driver where Erik had been staring.

“Erik, leave that man alone,” Homie laughed when the driver flinched. “He don't mean no harm. You married nine beautiful women, what do you expect?”

“Hey, Mr. Driver Man, how old are you anyway,” Josephine leaned with Angel pushing her back and Erik throwing an evil expression daring Jojo to try him on this family vacation.

“Stop,” Angel cringed blocking Jojo.

“You and these old men,” Charlie laughed. “Hey Mr., you ever been to Dubai?”

“STOP. Mr. Sam, don't answer that,” Hennessy yelled. The driver continued to look ahead with Erik's eyes still burning a hole through his head.

---

The rental house was grand. It was no Stevens-Udaku estate by any means, but it was still larger and more luxurious than the average American home. A smooth dark stone path led to the front door where a quaint balcony jutted out overhead. There were many windows and many lights as well as many plants outdoors and artfully scattered inside as well. A complimentary fruit basket sat on the kitchen counter along with twelve decadent cupcakes which were boxed and sealed, and a few bottles of Arbor Mist wine in various flavors.

“This is my kind of vacation,” Charlie said around a mouthful of strawberry buttercream. “These cupcakes..” She gave a thumbs up. Erik tilted his head as if to say ‘Really?’ and she swallowed pointing to the fluffy cupcake in her hand. “I'm tasting it for poison. I'm the guinea pig.” He rolled his eyes and the group moved on looking through the lower level of the house while the driver took the bags upstairs and sat them in the hall. Vast living room, a bathroom, a movie theater den and a pool out back. They went upstairs and Bastion immediately paired everyone up for the rooms. There were five bedrooms.

“Daddy and I will-”

“Erik and who?” Hennessy cocked her head to the side. “No, try that one again.”

“Okay fine,” Bastion huffed, “Daddy and Kennedi. Is that fair?” Erik kissed her cheek when she pouted.

“Yep,” Homie said stepping forward in response to her government name being called. Erik smirked as she pulled him into the bedroom and waved her fingers closing the door.  

“Don't forget to be dressed and ready for Broadway. No sleeping in tonight. Sleep tomorrow,” Bastion yelled pointing to the next room. “Angel a-”

“Got ya,” Ryley said pulling Angel into the room. The door closed before anyone else could comment.. and now Homie was moaning.

“Okay, I'm rooming with Aly'Sha. Kimora, you're with Jojo. Henny, you're with Charlie,” Bastion pointed. The groups scattered with an agreement to reconvene when it was time to leave.

---

They'd all arrived at Broadway with time to spare dressed to kill watching a captivating performance of The Lion King. When it was all over, they hadn't far to go to get to the restaurant for dinner. It was all in the heart of NYC. Carmine's was the name of the establishment and they were the focus of the dining floor in their eye-catching garb. They looked like movie stars taken off of the red carpet and dropped at a white cloth covered table. Erik wore a navy velvet suit with a crisp white button up and navy velvet loafers. His fade and facial hair was cleanly cut, locs freshly washed and retwisted with aloe, and his golden rimmed glasses took him from pimp to intelligent black professor. He beamed, showing off his platinum bottom grill as he admired his table full of beautiful women.

“Him drunk look at'em,” Ryley snickered gesturing to the grinning N'Jadaka. His eyes were squint. The wives snickered and smiled watching him shake his head like he was just the happiest man on earth.

“I wanna make a toast,” he slurred raising his wine glass. His vodka glass was empty. Since he wasn't driving, he could get as lit as he wished.. and he was. “I married…,” he hesitated thinking about it, “Nine beautiful ass bi-” he paused looking to Charlie, “-young ladies.. beautiful. Stunning. Radiant. Divine. Beguiling..”

“Leave it to you to use big words when you're smashed,” Hennessy giggled watching him point at her with a happy yet unfocused expression. She shook her head confused, laughing and Charlie met her eye just as humored. He was really drunk.

“I love all of you so much.. so, so, so, SO much,” he stressed shaking his head for emphasis.

“Oh my God,” Angel howled giggling so hard she started crying.

“Shh shh,” Erik hushed with a finger to his lips. “I would die for you, mon amour, ma vie, mon tout..”

Hennessy wiped the tears from her own eyes, still in a giggling fit as Erik turned his attention and declarations of eternal love to her, toast forgotten.

When the check came, Hennessy used Erik's card to pay and they all hobbled into the street with Erik still whispering sweet nothings switching from French, to Xhosa, and back to English without seeming to notice.

“Yotteru yo,” Charlie said switching to Japanese grinning as she helped Erik to walk since he was weaving on the sidewalk.

“Shhh,” he shushed leaning to whisper in her ear. “Nonono I'm not drunk, babygirl. Daddy just lit. Yottenai.. Yottenai.”

“You're drunk,” Hennessy laughed.

"Hey, I think there's a club nearby, like in walking distance. We can ditch the car since we'll have to wait on it to drive around the block in this traffic and reach us. Let's just walk and enjoy the city," Kimora enthused checking her phone's GPS. Erik jogged ahead to drape his arm over her shoulders.

"Lead the way baby." Suddenly he was walking straight and Charlie stared at him, mouth wide as Hennessy laughed. Kimora turned to walk down a blackened alley that they couldn't see the end of due to shadows. Erik was right there with her.

"Wait, no," Bastion froze. The only light in there was the moonlight.

"Don't be scared, I'm right here," Erik announced walking into the shadowy darkness with Kimora. Feeling safer with him than without him, Bastion rushed into the darkness clutching onto the back of Erik's soft blazer.

"Uh uh, hold up now. I don't know 'bout all this," Angel drawled placing her hand on her hips and looking to Ryley. "My security don't get here til tomorrow."

"I'll be ya security. We'll protect each other," Ryley promised holding Angels hand firmly in hers. Side by side they walked on in after Bastion. Homie looked to Jojo then and followed as Josephine grinned and walked into the alley first.

"Should we go," Charlie asked Hennessy as they hung back.

"Wait a minute." Hennessy paused on the sidewalk to pull her engineered joint out of her clutch. Charlie sparked the lighter for her and she smirked putting the joint to her pink lips. “Thank you wifey.”

“Anytime,” Charlie smiled watching Hennessy inhale and exhale clean smoke.

"I'm ready." Hennessy and Charlie turned together walking into the alley, Charlie's phone flashlight shining ahead.

---

Erik kissed his teeth noticing three shadows moving ahead and stepped in front of Kimora. "Why we can't just walk through the city in peace," he groaned. A gun lifted pointing at him and he rolled his eyes as three men approached, two black and one white.

One of the black guys let out a long whistle, kissing his teeth at the end. "This my lucky day, money and bitches falling in my lap." He racked his gun and made the count two peices aimed at Erik who smirked at the comment. They ain't know him or his wives. "Young nigga out here gettin it," the man snorted, spitting off to the side. "We been watching you, nigga. You not from here." He looked over Erik's fit and to the wives who were decked out in pricey gowns. "I hate to embarrass you like this in front of ya bitches, but... nah, I actually don't give a fuck. Get on your knees Carlton ass weakass bastard."

"You think you can walk up on me like shit sweet just because I'm surrounded by women? Hm. Also, Carlton didn't wear glasses," Erik sighed unbothered.

"Wow motherfucker, you have a death wish," the white man laughed. The other muggers were distracted for only a second and brought back to attention by the sound of four guns clicking nearly in unison. The distraction was all the time the wives needed to flip the script.

Ryley held her pistol out strong, her eyes never wavering. He posture was a cold dare. She dared them to try to pull the trigger faster than she could, gripping up her dress with her free hand in case she had to rip it and get crazy. Angel was loose from her wine and her gun had flown quickly into the air ready to pop at any movement of the men's fingers. She nearly fired simply because she was tipsy and they were annoying. She hobbled back on her high heels, mirroring Ryley's bold energy. She silently dared them to try and pull the trigger on her husband. They'd see ugly like they'd never seen before. Bastion had the gun that Erik had given her aimed at the white guy, but she didn't exactly know how to hold it or how to aim since she lacked gun skills. The heart was there, however, and she held the gun sideways like she'd seen in the movies before looking briefly to Ryley out the corner of her eye and holding the gun straight to mirror her pose. Josephine's gun was aimed for the other black guy and she stuck her arm out over Angel with her gun to the side, but that was just how she shot guns.

"Ain't nobody killing that nigga but me, y'erd. Pull the trigger and get sprayed like gřřřřtttt," Josephine threatened imitating the sound of an automatic assault rifle. Hennessy stoodby also unbothered and smoking her joint passing it off between Homie and Aly'Sha who were barely interested, they were so unafraid. Charlie stood watching the scenario through her phone's camera, chuckling in the background behind the armed wives. They had it handled. Two of the men turned tail, lowering their guns and running away, but that one bold one who was talking trash stayed with his gun up. Angel pulled the trigger and then Ryley shot. The man fell to his knees and forward dropping his gun. Charlie stepped forward and looked him over without touching him.

"He'll live," she determined walking on. Kimora and Erik followed and then Hennessy, Homie, Bastion, Angel, and Ryley. Aly'Sha walked on like nothing had happened and Josephine started to move on, but something in her witchy mind said no. She shot her gun sending a bullet to the man's head killing him. Aly'Sha rolled her eyes.

"Now we gotta get out of here," Ryley groaned walking faster. When they emerged into the street, they saw the club a couple of blocks away.

"See! Not that far," Kimora pointed.

---

* only JoJo is available to play now. Follow the links

Play as Hennessy

Play as Aly'Sha

Play as Ryley

Play as Angel

Play as Homie

Play as Charlie

Play as Kimora

Play as Josephine

Play as Bastion

[havntednlost]

The main problem: my mother.

Her and my social life.

She's my fucking hell. Since I was born. She never allowed me to do anything along with my father (that was waaaaaay more possessive and jealous when I was a child while now with my little sister he's all like "do whatever you want it's fine").

She never respected my privacy. My spaces. My decisions. My opinions. I wasn't allowed to have an opinion. I wasn't allowed to speak when she decided something. I wasn't allowed to choose my friends. I wasn't allowed to speak to some people I defined friends because they weren't okay for her. She'd always decided who I had to talk to and how I had to behave. She always shushed me when I wanted to say something that she thought could've been against her decision. I grew up with her ideas, with her ways of talking and acting. She was manipulating me, creating a copy of her. She wanted to see her in me. (You failed. Ops?🤭) And I was always alone. I never had friends. The only friends I could make were people with disabilities. Because others couldn't stand me. Others hated me or made fun of me. Since I was 6 (elementary school) to being 10 I only talked to people who had difficulties at school or were handicapped. I felt like they didn't judge me. And I felt like they were okay with me being their friend.

What does not having friends has to do with my mother?

Well easy: my social life was in her hands. And that's why I never had anyone by my side. Because no one was okay for her. Only one or maybe two people. And I never complained about it. Because she made me grow up like that. I had to shut up and just do what she said. In my childhood I remember disobeying just a couple of times to my mother. Consequences? Being hit. She slapped me in the face so hard she made me cry. Once she slapped me in front of my classmates in that way. My teacher told her it wasn't necessary and mum just used a polite way to say "fuck you I am her mother and I decide how she has to grow up". My teacher had to shut up while he was caressing me and making me calm down. In that moment I forgot I was in class. I must remember being in my teacher's arms and feeling safe, far from my mum's hands. I was 8 if I'm not wrong.

So, elementary school ended. Middle school started. First year. Me, still with the mentality of a child. Naive. Too innocent and silly to understand the world I was going to face. Middle school was the worst period of my life. I've been bullied all the three years.

First year: Afraid. Always defensive. But willing to be a perfect student just as I was at the previous school. It was just me and other four girls (way smarter than me because they didn't live like they were perfect dolls to keep in a house-cage) and then 15 boys. One of them had a crush on me. I rejected him. I got no will to talk about that embarrassing story. After that also this boy + all the girls made fun of me and bullied me and called me names like: horse, camel, annoying, stupid and stuff like that. I was absolutely not used to being talked to like that, consequently it was one of the first traumas I've experienced in first person, without having my mother "by my side" "to dEfENd me". First year ends and I made no friends.

My parents decide to move to another city. Caserta. Close to Naples. I spent two years there. It was a fucking hell. People there were like... the plastics of mean girls. We were 10 girls and 13 boys. Way better, I thought. Ugh, I was wrong. Boys were terrible, worse than the ones at the other school and girls? Damn, they were all Regina George. It was when my depression symptoms started, along with anxiety. They talked at my back, saying bad stuff about me. How I found out? My mother was going through my chats (without me knowing, of course) and she called me to tell me. I read the group chat. They started saying "Is Maria in this group? No? Are you sure? Yes". So after establishing that I wasn't there they started saying things like: Oh luckily she isn't. She's so annoying. Why the fuck did she came to our school? Couldn't she stay at her old one? She's so ugly and stupid. No one can stand her. No one wants her. And she thinks we're her friends! 😂😂😂 She thinks she's better than us! (totally untrue) She's no one. etc...

Now imagine me crying while reading everything because I didn't expect it.

My mother: Didn't you expect all of this? It was obvious.

Well sorry if I was too stupid because I grew up thinking people were good and I would've faced a world full of roses and love.

I just told her I didn't. Your fault, darling.

Day after. My mother goes to school and talks to my teacher about it. My teacher defends me and helps me with that and the thing is solved. But my classmates just hate me more and more. And they just keep bullying me but more subtly so that no one notices. But I was a bit smarter because I had my cousin (I will dedicate another post to this special person ❤️) that was helping me to go through all the shit and giving me advice.

Middle school ends.

I am not homophobic anymore (like my parents taught me to be). I start having doubts about my sexuality but ignore them. My depression gets worse and worse.

My mother gets worse and worse. Starting to prefer my two brothers and little sister over me for everything. I was needed just to clean the house and to be yelled at for wearing always black, being unsocial, always staying on my own in the dark, always with my phone, always listening to music, always being sad or angry, never smiling, staying up after 10pm for watching TV series or reading, not studying much etc...

(Want a hint my dear mother? I was/am depressed.)

In this period I start having suicidal thoughts. Still because of my parents. My cousin supporting me and telling me is silly and that there are other options.

We move back to Naples.

I am now 14.

Highschool starts. First year is shit because I get bullied again but I start making friends. A group of 7 people (me included). My mother says they're okay. Fucking finally.

Alessia, Gabriella, Chiara, Simona, Sara, Andreea (romanian). Fucking amazing friends. Disgustingly amazing.

My grades are low. My parents keep hating on me and yelling at me for that. But my friends support me.

In the meanwhile I get to know a girl on the Internet. We become close friends and that develops in feelings. We start a relationship. Let's be clear. It wasn't. It was just based on the fact that we had the same problems and she gave me a lot of affection, and I thought it was love.

One day my mother takes my phone, again, without me knowing, and reads all of my chats.

She finds out about this girl. I was terrified and so I confess. My first coming out. She says nothing. She goes to my dad and tells him. My dad yells "Go away! Go away from my sight!" and I go to the kitchen terrified. Crying and sobbing. We sit. Me, my mother and my dad. They start talking to me. A sum up:

I don't remember how my mother started talking. I removed it because it was traumatic, all I remember is her saying shit about that poor girl.

I say "Mum, what's wrong with gays? They're just like us"

Mum slaps me. Hard as fuck. I was shook. Scared. Hurt. Confused.

After that they start talking about how wrong is being gay, that God doesn't accept it, that it's not natural, that it's just a phase, that only animals have gay sex and that's why we humans are different from animals that must follow their instincts. They keep repeating the same things in different ways for 3 hours. I am not kidding. 3 hours. From 3pm to 6:30pm only talking about this. (Want to know what I've done all this time? I just nodded. I kept on nodding because I was afraid to talk.)

Mum deletes and blocks every number and friends from Internet and takes my SIM card and puts it in her phone so she can check all my chats from her phone. She throws my phone away breaking it.

Nighttime: No sleep. Everytime I fell asleep I had nightmares so I woke up. Sobbing. Crying. I can't fucking breathe. A fucking hell.

Morning: I wake up totally empty and with a dead face. My parents are in the kitchen. They warmly say "good morning" and ask me to sit. I sit on the couch. They ask me "how are you". My answer: HOW AM I?? HOW AM I YOU FUCKER?????!!!!! YOU'RE REALLY ASKING ME HOW ARE YOU WITH THIS NONCHALANCE???? FUCKING KILL YOURSELF. My actual answer:.... i'm tired.

I don't remember anything else after that. Trauma I guess.

I am not a psychologist but I'm pretty sure I'm fucked up.

So after this happens I tell everything to my cousin. She doesn't believe that. She actually doesn't. She was too shocked to believe it. Haha, same sis. I don't either.

So, it takes a while for her to process everything and that's when our friendship starts for real. (We were good friends since I was 12. We grew up together, but there has never been an actual friendship because of how I was as a child. A pretty horrible child.) She starts helping me with my mother and all the stuff. We start getting closer and closer as time goes by and as my mother keeps being a bitch.

Second year of highschool.

My fucking favourite. It was such a good time. My grades weren't the best, my depression was fucking me up more than ever, my anxiety was kicking me out, but.. I had my friends. With a new entry. Simona. Yeah another one. Alessia changes school. So it's still 7 of us.

I swear if it wasn't for my friends that year and my cousin. I would've killed myself. Going back home from school everyday was basically going back to hell every fucking day.

dude: go to hell

me: awww where do you think i came from honey?

Then... that summer comes. Summer 2018.

I argue with my friends because of my parents, giving them the fault of everything. I keep them away from me. My mother gets even worse. She's against me like I am her enemy. She yells at me for everything. Every single thing.

me: *wakes up*

mother: WHY DID YOU WAKE UP GO BACK TO SLEEP AND SLEEP PROPERLY LIKE A LADY YOU'RE DISGUSTING.

She separates me from my cousin because she talked back at her (after she said bad things about my cousin's mother at her face) and here, another trauma. She calls me whore, liar, bitch because I didn't defend her like my cousin did with her mother (sorry but i hate you bitch). She says it's all my fault because I told my cousin everything about the bad things she did to me. That day goes away and my mother calms down and says it's not my fault but my cousin's because she's a bitch. I have no chance to talk to her for a month then we finally meet when my mother isn't at home. Since then we talk without no one of my family knowing. (It will be 3 years this summer, she never knew we do. How stupid can she be thinking I wouldn't talk to my favourite person ever because she said so).

September comes. Back to school. Third year. No friends. Low grades. No will to study. No will to live. But my cousin has my back. She keeps me alive, in fact I tried to kill myself multiple times. I failed. (Now I'm happy I didn't.) I pass that year. Not after another trauma. I seek for help at school. My teacher tells my mother about it and tells her that I am bisexual, atheist and I'm not okay in my family.

Thanks for ruining me, teacher. I expressively told her not to talk about it with my mother buuuut okay.

Quick sum up: I come back from school, my mother is crying. She starts saying things like "You don't want me as a mother? You don't like me? You hate me?" and I said no (not knowing that she knew what I said at school). Then the evening she walks to me and sits near me.

"Tell me the truth"

I was obviously confused. So she confesses what she knows. I was expecting the worst. It ended up with me talking to my uncles because my mother was "tOo hUrt" to talk to me.

"It's just a phase." "I hated my parents too." "You're too young to say these things." "You can't say you're bisexual if you never experienced anything."

It ended up with me faking a hug and "I'm sorry mum, I exaggerated." (obviously it was just to make everything stop).

bonus

me: *wants help to fight a difficult situation*

mum: *gets to know about it* YOU HURT ME YOU UNGRATEFUL BITCH.

also mum: *reproaches it to my face everytime she's mad at me*

Fourth year starts. This is my year. This year. 2019/2020. It started perfectly. Good grades, my friends are back.

We move again. Tivoli (Rome). I am fucking happy with that. Expect for the fact that I can't meet my cousin anymore. But of course we can chat. Secretly on Telegram. Because my mother doesn't know what it is. Also, she stopped checking my phone, finally.

So, now. I'm 17, fourth year of highschool. Here I have no friends because they all suck. I miss my friends from Naples. And I wish I was free from my parents.

Some parts are not detailed. This because I will dedicate to them other posts otherwise this one would've been waaaaaay longer. And it's already too long.

No one will read these long posts but in case you're doing it, thank you ❤.

[leonawriter]

Stray Dogs and Tiger Cubs (pt.8)

Read it on AO3 from the start

Fandom: Bungo Stray Dogs

Characters: Dazai, Yosano, Atsushi, Kyouka.

...

He's humming to himself, when he hears footsteps. Several dozen plans being created and then tossed away like the beginnings of drafts written on scrap paper in hid mind, because it isn't as though he hasn't got the time to think right now.

No Kunikida harassing him for paperwork or reports, or... anything, really. No fieldwork. No- well, no, he'd almost prefer to be hounded by a cute young waitress for his unpaid tab than be strung up here by his wrists. It does hurt, after all, and once he's out of here he's going to have to change the bandages around his wrists because he knows it's chafing, and it'll be sore for a while.

But, it's not like he's in any rush.

The information he's after isn't going anywhere, after all, and Atsushi himself should be safely back at the Agency, being looked after by everyone else in his absence. If anything comes up, he trusts that someone can handle it; there hadn't been anything worse than their normal investigations, escorts, and so on ever since that one day, when he'd first found out that there was a bounty on the boy's head.

A bounty that wasn't going to go away just because it would be convenient, and if Mori was sending people like Akutagawa to take in Atsushi, then it had to be something important, even aside from the monetary value of it.

And so he hums, a song about suicide and death that doesn't have any true thought or meaning to it, and can only barely be bothered to stop when the sharp tendrils of Rashomon cut past the bandages on his neck before reaching his skin and dissipating into so much mist as the ability is nullified.

"Oh..." He looks up, something far colder in his eyes than he's ever let anyone in the Agency see, let alone Atsushi. "You... were here?"

...

Yosano is there when Kunikida attempts to question the girl once she's awoken, both because she's got every right as the doctor who'd been treating the girl's injuries to know if she winds up tearing anything open again, and also because, even more than Kunikida, she'd been there.

Atsushi had woken up not all that long ago himself, and a single question of asking where "Kyouka-neechan" had gone at least told them what her name was, even if asking anything else had just come up with a shrug or a shake of Atsushi's head.

For a while, they had both thought that the boy was just being difficult, but hadn't been able to do anything about it.

Now, seeing the girl - Kyouka - barely react at all to any of Kunikida's questions, Yosano wasn't so sure. In fact, she was starting to think that maybe, Atsushi really didn't know anything more than her name... and, probably, the fact that she'd been meant to kill herself, along with all of the passengers on the train.

She couldn't help the way that her hands clenched and tensed at odd moments when Kyouka just kept staring into space, no matter what was said, no matter how loud, with eyes that stared blankly ahead, and might as well be dead for all the life in them.

"...so answer me. Who's the person 'above' you?"

At first, it seems like there'll be no answer to that, either, and to top it all off, she feels a pressure on her skirt - the hand too small for any of the remembered attempts at groping that she's had to endure, she knows before she even reacts reflexively, no matter that no one at the Agency would so much as dare.

Atsushi gets a pat on the head, for reassurance.

"...the boiled tofu at Tachibana," comes a quiet voice, one that she's only heard speak once before. "It's... tasty."

Atsushi blinks up at her as Kunikida huffs in annoyance. Tachibana - that place is expensive, if she remembers right. And yet...

"You'll talk if you eat, huh?"

Kunikida levels an incredulous stare at her. But the girl nods, and that's all Yosano needs.

Don't even try telling me what I can or I can't take on, she tells Kunikida when they're both out of earshot of the kids. She respects him well enough, but she'll press the point home if she has to.

Thankfully, she doesn't have to, because he's smart enough to know when to let the matter drop.

...

He expects the blow, rolls with it as best he can when all he can do is adjust the angle of his head against the stone wall behind him, but it still hurts, his face stinging and growing hot in the way that says he'll have a fresh bruise there, which he isn't happy about even if he'd anticipated it.

"You are not entirely impervious," he hears Akutagawa say, as he breathes in to accommodate for the ringing in his ears before turning his head back to face his ex-mentee, and current opponent. "You still get hurt when stripped of your ability. I can kill you any time I want."

Dazai bites back a sigh, a roll of his eyes, a scoff - instead putting everything into a smile, and a few words.

"Really? How dreadful." Akutagawa stared, and Dazai could almost see the anger simmering away beneath the surface. Which is fine by him. "If you don't mind my saying... training you was such an ordeal, back then. You were dumb as a brick, and so very headstrong... not to mention, that trashy ability of yours."

Perhaps he shouldn't rile up the one who had already had no qualms against attacking a boy to get at the tiger within once before, but they were words that had been kept locked inside for so long, frustrations borne of how Akutagawa had never made full use of himself, nor of his ability, in all the time he'd made so many attempts to train him, much like a dog that could only understand the one command.

Chuuya, at least, had always been capable of learning, of adapting, of working with him and strategising, even if those strategies were never exactly things of finesse. 

"You won't be cocky for long," Akutagawa said, holding onto his restraint by the tightening of his fist, by the looks of things. "We will annihilate the Detective Agency in a few days, and seize the weretiger. Then, we will execute you... after forcing you to helplessly witness the destruction of your organisation, and everything you've built up... including that boy."

Those words, more than anything else Akutagawa had said up until then, strike like a snake at some part of Dazai's guts that makes him feel a cold sharpness digging in, in a way that he hadn't since-

Since- 

Not since the threat of seeing Odasaku's back retreating into the distance, as he watched helpless to stop him.

The memory of a trailer filled with dead children enters his mind, and the insidious thought that this time, he would have personally trained the one responsible for such an act.

For a moment, the fear he feels is paralysing, enough that he feels that he can't breathe - is this what anyone else would feel, if they were drowning?  - and then, he almost feels like laughing.

Atsushi is stronger than that. The Agency, is stronger than that.

The fear abates, for the most part. Leaving only pure anger in its wake.

"Do you have it in you, though?" he asks. "In all this time... all you've ever done is kill whoever's in front of your face. Even an eight year old child knows better how to use their ability than that."

This time, the punch comes fast enough and is backed by enough hatred and strength that Dazai's sharp inhale of breath at seeing it coming isn't enough to stop him from coughing out blood, stars dancing in his vision, and the reverberating sound of the door closing leaves him in a darkness deeper than merely that of the dimmed lights of the interrogation room.

[books--andt]

Before I Fall by Lauren Oliver Review and Discussion

Hello lovely book people! Hope you're having a terrific reading year so far.

So Lauren Oliver was one of the first authors I read that gripped me. I was so attached and obsessed with her Delirium series; I couldn't put it down and it introduced me to the bookish community! That was nearly two years ago and since then I haven't read anything more by her. I know! Crazy!

Before I Fall is about a popular high school girl named Samantha Kingston. To the blind eye she has it all; popularity, a cool group of friends, a hot boyfriend. But Samantha soon realizes that these are not things that will be on her "greatest hits" list. On February 12th Samantha and her friends hit up a party and on their way home suffer a car crash. The peculiar thing about it is, Sam wakes up the next morning as if nothing happened, and once she checks the date and realizes that it's still February 12th, she understands that nothing really did happen. Sam lives February 12th over and over, frustrated and finally accepts that she must change events that happened that day to make things right.

I enjoyed this book. I had some problems with it here and there but all in all it was an interesting read that grabbed my attention and I really wanted to know how it ended. I have some deeper thoughts so I'm going to move into some spoilers now! If you haven't read this book read no further!

***SPOILERS AHEAD***

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Alrighty hey spoiler people! So first things first- Samantha. What. A. Bitch. I had a hard time reading from her perspective and actually liking her just because of the things she'd say or do. That goes for Lindsey an her other friends as well. While Elody and Ally may not have been as mean as Lindsey, they were followers and didn't stand up for themselves or anyone else. Samantha kept saying how much she loved Lindsey ad how great she was, despite all of the things she's done wrong. But for me I just couldn't see the goodness in her. She was fake; she could drop Sam any time she wanted and make her the least popular girl in school; she was mean to others and frankly didn't give a shit about their feelings. Sure she had problems of her own, but she would never face those problems because she was scared that others would find out and *over exaggerated gasp* she'd become less popular!!

This book can really bring back memories of high school. But for me, high school wasn't about popularity or parties or any of that. So I didn't relate to that level of the book either. I've always believed in standing up for others or what you believe in, no matter what, so when Samantha would laugh until her stomach hurt about a joke that Lindsey or Ally would make about Juliet Sykes or Kent I just.... Didn't find it funny at all.

However Sam did grow on me as the story progressed, which I guess is kind of the point. Sam lives the same day, February 12th, seven times. And I get that she had to relive the same day for an entire week before she comprehended what she needed to do, but sometimes the story just felt tedious. It didn't drag for me, I thought the pacing was actually quite good, but just certain things were said over and over and it bothered me a bit.

Okay so now for the elephant in the room; the ending. OH. MY. GAWD. I honestly wasn't expecting it and I don't really know what to think or feel and I'm slightly confused. Did she actually die on the seventh day???????? Or was she dead the entire time and just had to "make things right" before she could be fully accepted in the afterlife??????

I was waiting and waiting and waiting for Samantha to have this epiphany at Kent's party and STAND THE HELL UP for Juliet in front of EVERYONE. I personally think that would have been a lot more powerful; her telling Lindsey to back off and stop people from shouting "Psycho! Psycho!" and pouring their drinks on her, rather than her just following her to the highway and saying all this crap that made ZERO sense to Juliet and trying to stop her from jumping in front of moving vehicles. Maybe my preferred ending would have been too cliche, but I just think it would've been more powerful and would actually show us readers that Samantha HAS changed.

And alas... Samantha realizes that in order to make things right, in order to stop herself from living the same day over and over, she must sacrifice her LIFE for Juliet. I understand this and Lauren Oliver did a good job surprising me and making me FEEL something but like.... gahhh!!! What about Sam's little sister?? She would be devastated. What about Kent???? He's SOOOOO confused about everything that happened between them since, to him, they haven't spoken at all in years! And Sam was always such a bitch to him, then all of a sudden she's nice, but then NOPE PSYCH she dies?????

And what about her friends??? Does she really think that killing herself is going to stop Lindsey from being a bitch to others? I'd hope that Lindsey would make the connection, and realize that Sam saved Juliet Sykes but... I just don't know.

And of course, how is Juliet Sykes supposed to feel??? She'd probably feel horrible that someone else dies for her, and she probably doesn't understand the half of why she did it!

I can only hope that all is pieced back together after Samantha sacrificed herself. But what if she was dead all along? I'm only wondering this because Samantha says something at the end of the book like, "I saw hair so bright and white it looked like a halo" and she also says she can hear Juliet saying "you saved me" and "why did you save me?" sooooo was Juliet dead all along? Did they all die in that first car crash this whole time???

All in all I liked this book. If a book makes you think about it after you've read it, if you hate some of the characters, or if you really want to know what will happen next as you read it, then the author did something right!

I'm happy I read this book before the movie comes out and I can't wait to see it. I'm liking the casting that I've seen so far. The girl who plays Lindsey looks spot on, and I think Zoey Deutch will do a good job playing Samantha.

What are your thoughts on this book or on the casting for the movie? I'd love to know!

Star rating: 3.5/5 stars.

Psssst- I've been really active on my bookstagram lately and you should totally check it out --> books_andt

Thanks for reading!

- T