#and i was rarely at the big parties over the last five years or so because i was in korea

[fiona-fififi]

Okay, but actually, one of the most annoying things is having people treat you like a guest in your best friend's home.

[chaussetteblanche]

and they were roommates

pairing : Spencer Reid x fem!student!roommate!reader summary : you are Spencer Reid's roommate, the team finds out about you when a case brings them to the university you study at word count : 2.5k warning : canon-typical violence A/N : the university is a random one I picked in Virginia, bear with me because I don't know how US university systems work, thanks :) I think this is a part one, there may be a part two or even more, idk, but tell me what you think !

part 2, part 3, part 4

"I- I'm sorry, what university did you say?" Spencer's frantic tone was immediately noticed by his colleagues. Suddenly, he seemed hyperaware of everything in the room. The loud AC, Derek's pen-clicking and the overwhelming smell of Emily's coffee. "Mary Washington University," JJ answered swiftly, eyes narrowed as she sent Reid a confused glance. The man in question mumbled a few words under his breath and shot up, grabbing his coat and scarf. "We need to go." His tone, unusually urgent, left no space for debate or questioning. He was out the door within seconds, followed closely by Morgan and the others.

When you'd applied for Mary Washington University, you had known you would have to get an apartment. You lived too far away to even consider taking the numerous trains and buses and subways to get there. So, when you had been accepted into your first choice of universities, you'd started apartment hunting. Or roommate-hunting, to be more precise.

To say you had been unlucky would have been quite the understatement. You'd visited four apartments so far and could not even consider living in one of them for a second. The first had been full of frat boys who made your skin crawl, the second was with an old, far right-wing couple, the third had been two sisters who'd yelled at each other for the whole time you were there and the fourth had been so crowded your were certain it was neither sanitary not legal for another person to live there. With the deadline of university starting and having to move all your things, you were starting to get quite anxious. But call it chance or fate, one day you stumbled upon an advertisement for an apartment in a nice neighbourhood with one person who seemed quite normal. This person was a state-employee (which meant a stable salary and that meant you wouldn't have to compensate for rent) who travelled often for work and liked to keep mostly to themselves. Not one for big parties, they preferred a night-in and rarely had people over.

So you'd put on your big-girl pants and had walked over to what you hoped would be your last apartment visit. You hadn't been expecting such a young person to open the door because of the way the advert had been written and because of what it said. "Hi, I'm Dr. Spencer Reid." You noticed he didn't hold his hand out and mirrored his behaviour. "Hi! I'm here for a visit!" You introduced yourself somewhat shyly, feeling intimidated. This man was at the most five years older than you and he was already a doctor?

He showed you around the apartment, which you liked very much. The rooms smelled like books and tea and everything was kept very clean. On the whole, it was tidy, even if a few books or articles were stacked in some odd places. The bedroom you'd stay in was large and luminous. After the tour, he made you a cup of tea as you discussed formalities.

"Uh, so, you’re a student, right?" he'd asked politely as he added a worrying amount of sugar in his earl grey. You bit back a teasing jest. You hoped maybe one day you'd get to place where you could comment on his daily sugar intake. "Yeah, um, I'm studying English Literature and Cinema." You stirred your tea, looking around the kitchen. Even though it was painted a dark, forest green, it still seemed luminous in the afternoon sun. "Oh, that's super interesting! I’ve always found texts in Middle English particularly insightful! I- I read the Canterbury Tales when I was about 10 years old. It’s fascinating the way in which issues which were already current then are still very present today, like in the Wife of Bath’s tale, for example-“

He cut himself off, leaning back into the couch. He rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks dusted pink. “Sorry, you probably don’t want me to ramble about what you already know.” “No, I think it’s amazing that you would know that, actually. What else did you like in the Wife of Bath’s tale?” Spencer seemed to brighten up at your words and thus ensued a lengthy discussion of the avant-garde themes evoked by Geoffrey Chaucer. You were fascinated by his knowledge and found his passion especially endearing. Lots of your professors weren’t even that passionate when talking of late 14th century literature.

After discussing rent, which you would afford by waitressing at a local bar, lightly touching upon political subjects (on which you seemed to agree on), he finally told you that he was an FBI agent. "Excuse me?" you spluttered, leaning backwards in shock. "I'm a profiler with the BAU, the Behavioural Analysis Unit. I can show you my badge if you want." He stood up and reached for his bag, but you stopped him in his tracks. "No, no, that's okay, I believe you. I'm just surprised, that's all, sorry." His expansive knowledge of so many things seemed fitting for an agent of the BAU. After realising you were the first person who didn't demand his badge as proof of his profession, Spencer granted you a small smile. "You don't need to apologise. I- I know it can be a bit... off-putting." He sat back down and looked you in the eye. "Is that a problem for you, living with a federal agent?"

You thought about it for a second. As a general rule, you weren't a big fan of cops. Even more generally, you didn't believe in the structure of today's society. But that was a big topic. Plus, a profiler wasn't really a cop, was he? "No, that's not a problem for me."

You'd moved in a month and a half later. Things had been slightly awkward at first and you'd had to figure out what kind of dynamic Spencer and you had. But eventually, you’d found your rhythm.

When Spencer left for work, you took care of his plants and sent him pictures of Geoffrey. Geoffrey was the cat you’d found on the street and taken in. He was named after Geoffrey Chaucer, author of the Canterbury Tales, your first common point of interest. Spencer had been reluctant at first, but you’d taken him to the vet, where he was tested and vaccinated, and the man had finally accepted him into your shared space. Now, he loved the little creature. Sometimes, you’d call him to ask how he was doing and whether he was safe. He’d always reply that yes, he was doing fine and no, he wasn’t in any danger, don’t you worry. He’d ask how you were doing and if you were staying on top of uni work and if you’d eaten and if Geoffrey wasn't being too annoying. As an orange cat, he had his particular tendencies.

When Spencer was at home, you'd always look forward to getting back from class. There was always that sense of comfort and ease when he was around. You had found a lovely routine quite easily. You'd both work or study, then cook, eat together and afterwards maybe you'd watch a movie or something. You were at a point where you could comment on his daily sugar intake, which he's started correcting since meeting you. He loved the Big Bang Theory and though you weren't such a fan, you loved the little laughs he let out and all the corrections he'd make. In general, you liked when he talked. Even more generally, you liked him. You also liked Friends and though Ross got on Spencer's nerves, he enjoyed being able to discuss it with you afterwards. The two of you got very close without even noticing.

Sometimes, you'd remember he wasn't just your roommate, but also a man. He'd make you a cup of tea and you'd stare at his hands a little too long while he stirred the honey in. Or he'd help you reach for a cup with his impressive height, his front just skimming your back with a shiver. He'd tell you to breathe and sit down when you were upset about something. A few times, he drove you home from a night out with your friends and laid his hand on your knee. He was the only one who remembered how you'd told him you wanted to kiss him.

With you, Spencer discovered many things he had never experienced before. A healthy, comforting and peaceful routine. A supporting, non-judgemental, healthy friendship. Easy laughter in the middle of the night and tired "good morning"s at dawn. Butterflies in his stomach whenever you touched him. A budding romance which kept him awake at night.

So when that was threatened, he just about lost it.

"Oh my God." "I can't believe this." "Is this a prank?" "Did someone call 911?" "What about her parents?" "Oh, that's sick."

Voices swarmed around your head, making you dizzy. Your hand rested over your mouth as you stared at the body strewn on the lawn. Much of the student body stood next to you, just as shocked. Mary Goldman had been her name. You'd crossed her just this morning in the main hall and had exchanged small smiles. You had thought that she looked really pretty today, but hadn't told her. You regretted that now. At the moment, her mascara had run down her cheeks and dried and her lipstick and been smudged. Bruises and cuts decorated her bare arms and legs and a big red stain sat on the side of her stomach. The contrast between her dead body and the green, thriving grass beneath her was haunting.

You turned away, feeling sick. You felt your friend's hand on your shoulder, a small source of comfort anchoring you to reality. Facing the road as you turned, you were surprised to see three big black SUVs speeding towards the crowd. You'd been expecting an ambulance, or cops. Not whoever these guys were. They screeched to a stop, drawing everyone's attention. A small dozen of people stormed out, all dressed differently though they all held the same aura of importance, knowledge and authority. You turned back to your friends. "Who are these-"

You stopped mid-sentence when you heard your name being called out urgently. You'd have recognised his voice amidst a thousand others. He spoke your name like no other. You frantically looked around, pushing your way to the large vehicles. When you finally spotted him, tears started pricking your eyes. "Spencer," you breathed in a half-sob. His eyes ran you over once, twice, assessing any damage. When he saw there was no physical wound, his shoulders sank in relief. He opened his arms and you rushed inside his warm embrace almost reflexively. Neither of you noticed the numerous pair of curious eyes observing your intimate exchange.

"Oh my God, Spence- What- What are you doing here?" you'd cried into his cardigan. You buried your face into his neck, inhaling the comforting scent he always bore. He wrapped an arm around your waist and another around your shoulders, holding the back of your head in a consoling manner. "We're- We're taking this on as a case, sweets. Are you all right?" He knew it was a stupid question but all the emotions and tension were barely wearing off and he didn't know what else to say. You pulled away but he kept you at arm's length, holding your cold, shaking hands in his warm, steady ones. "I- Yeah, it's just- I- I saw her this morning! How could she- Why would someone do this to her? To- to anyone?!" Spencer cooed and pulled you into another tight hug as you continued to ramble through your tears. When you'd eventually calmed down thanks to his words of reassurance, he pulled away softly.

Spencer understood what you meant perhaps more than anyone. The sadness, the shock, the anger, the need to understand. He gently wiped away the mascara under your eyes with his thumb. "I know, I- It's- Even I don't always understand, sweetheart, so don't- Why don't you go home? I'd come with you but-" You nodded, biting your lower lip. He gave you a sad smile. "I promise I'll join you as soon as this is over. You- you can make yourself a cup of tea and process all this and pet Geoffrey, okay? Classes are going to be cancelled either way." "I don't want to-" The look in his eyes kept you from arguing further. You nodded, giving him another hug. Before you left, an older man came over to you.

"I'm sorry to bother you, miss. I'm Agent David Rossi. I just had a question-" "Rossi," interrupted Spencer with a stern tone you'd never heard before. The older Agent raised an eyebrow at him. "Just one question." He turned back to you. "At what time did you say you saw the victim?" You inhaled shakily, running a hand over your face. "Uh, it must have been around quarter to eleven. I think- Yeah, somewhere between ten thirty and eleven." "Thank you, miss." You didn't miss the glance shared between the two men before Rossi retreated.

"Who was that?" asked Emily as soon as you'd left and Spencer had joined them behind the police tape. "No one," Spencer brushed her off as he kneeled next to the victim. Strangely, he hated the idea of someone who knew you dying. It felt too close to home. "C'mon, man, you lost your shit this morning, a girl you clearly know very well runs into your arms, you snap at Rossi and you expect us to believe you?" Derek raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. Spencer sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking up at the rest of the team. All were staring at him patiently. He stood up, swallowing.

"That was my roommate." He informed the team of your name and of how you'd been living together for a few years now. "Spencer, you've been living with a woman for years and you've never told us?!" Derek was all but hysteric. Hotch reminded him that everyone was entitled to a private life. "So, are you dating or something?" Emily prodded again. Spencer hesitated a second before answering. "No." Derek scoffed, appalled. "You mean to tell me you've been living with a beautiful woman like that for years and nothing's ever happened?!" "Not everyone is like you, Morgan," Emily reminded with a teasing smirk. Derek sent her an unimpressed look. "Look, let's all grill Spencer later, we have a case to focus on right now." Rossi, ever the voice of reason, directed everyone's attention back to the corpse laying next to them.

Needless to say, the BAU team did not need to interrogate Spencer or attack him with incessant questions to find much out. They'd seen by his behaviour that very morning how much he cared about you. They'd seen how relieved he had been when he'd seen you safe and sound. They'd noticed you'd only started crying when you'd seen him, a big sign of trust. They had never heard him call another by pet names such as "sweets" or "sweetheart". They'd read both of your body languages like a children's book and translated it easily.

Love. Comfort. Peace. Ease.

[idkdudethisisntpermanent]

Over the Limit - pt.v

jenna ortega x female reader

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi

summary: An unlikely group forms—did someone say road trip?

word count: 10.8k

a/n: It's officially been a month since I've started posting Over the Limit on Tumblr! Thank you everyone for the overwhelming amount of support💚

————

How are weekends meant to look for the average 20-year old? Finally sleeping in after having a week of 8am classes? Scrambling to your job that funds all your stupid vices? Maybe it was stressing over picking the sluttiest outfit you can wear since you had a frat party and needed all eyes on you?

That realm of life seemed impossible for you. When you’re from Brimstone you don’t have the privilege of worrying about those things—no, instead on this fine Saturday morning you’re groggily rubbing your eyes open at 6am, while Hunter is panicking about the land lord who’s five seconds away from knocking the door down.

“Dude just answer,” you say annoyed, you could barely sleep last night and the last thing you needed was this antsy land lord playing drums on the door.

“I fucking can’t!” Hunter whisper yells, crouching down to your position on the floor where you had slept the night prior. “He’s gonna hand me an eviction notice when he sees me!”

And that is how your weekend begins when you’re from Brimstone.

After ignoring the loud knocks for some time, the land lord left grumbling angry curses at Hunter.

“So you’re backed up on two months of rent?” you ask, learning the information from the man that was once outside the door.

The older guy sighs with a nod, “Yeah, you know how it is. I haven’t been getting much races lately. I should’ve put a wager on you when you raced that Blond douche,” he says with a hollow chuckle.

You frown. You know exactly how it is. It’s not rare for you to walk into the garage and hear the whispers of unhappy Sinners about their pay cut.

Race clubs had their own economy. The quickest way for racers to make money was by paying an entry fee to compete, with the total pool going to the winning racer or crew. Crews like the Sinners also occasionally hosted parties, collecting entry fees to boost their earnings.

But gambling was the bread and butter—side bets, wagers, and deals made on the outcome of races. Anyone could place a bet, whether it was on their own crew or against them, but most of the money came from outsiders: third-party crews or devoted townspeople.

And then there was the fastest, most dangerous way to make cash.

“Didn’t you have a sponsor?” you asked.

Hunter's jaw tightened, and a shadow of bitterness crossed his face. "Yeah, I did. But things went south," he muttered. "Sponsors aren't what they used to be. They're too caught up in politics, or they want a cut so big it's not worth the payout."

You nodded, understanding that finding and keeping a sponsor was a double-edged sword. While they offered financial stability and access to better equipment, they came with strings attached—controlling interests, unwanted appearances, and expectations that sometimes choked a racer's freedom. You had to be in at least the top 5% of racer's to even be considered by a sponsor, and Hunter was just that good. But that lifestyle was clearly not worth it for him. You don't blame him, you've heard the stories of sponsor's having crazy asks for their prodigies.

"You'd be a sponsor's dream you know?" he suddenly says.

You quirk a brow up, not knowing how so.

"You're a great racer, you get along well with the rich, you're submissive—

"I am not submissive!"

————

After some more banter with Hunter you finally proceed with your morning and freshen up. As you're standing in front of the bathroom sink, wondering how you're going to brush your teeth, you noticed two toothbrushes in the holder.

Hunter lived alone.

Not knowing the origins of the second toothbrush and not willing to risk it, you opted to brush your teeth using your finger, and splashed some cool water on your face, trying to chase away the exhaustion and pull yourself together.

As you stared at your reflection in the mirror, a chill slid down your spine. Shock had a strange way of altering a person’s expression—jaw locked, eyes hardened, gaze steely. The revelations of last night were etched into your face like battle scars.

You were scared. Everything you heard last night was real—things that will directly impact you and your loved ones. It wasn’t just some joke, it was real life. And about your father...ever since the revelations of last night, it's been weighing on you—if you should tell your mom about the foul play in her husband’s death. How do you even tell someone that?

Your hands tightened around the edge of the sink, water dripping off your face and pooling on the counter. You thought about how it didn't shock you more to learn that your father’s death was no accident. Did that make you a terrible daughter? You thought of Anton, always armed, always prepared for whatever might come his way. Of course this life was brutal. Your father had been a founder, a leader—how could it not be dangerous?

But who wanted your father dead?

That was rather the question that gnawed at you, digging deeper with every passing second. Who could have wanted him gone, and why? Your fingers clenched the porcelain sink harder, the tremor in your hands matched by the anger coursing through you. And then the tears came undone, streaking down your face and mingling with the water already on the counter.

“Y/n?” Hunter’s voice cut through the fog of your mind, followed by a knock on the bathroom door. “Hey, you okay in there?”

You sucked in a shaky breath, fighting to steady yourself. Now was not the time nor place for breaking down.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you called out, forcing your voice into something resembling normalcy. You wiped your face with the back of your hand and swung the door open. Hunter stood there, a towel draped over his arm, eyes shadowed with worry.

He frowned as you brushed past him, taking the towel and pressing it to your damp face. The silence hung between you.

Hunter’s gaze followed you as you moved, his eyes full of questions. “Y/n, look” he started his voice soft, hesitant, as if he was afraid that speaking too loudly would shatter you. "I don't know what's going on with you. But I know it's a lot. I already know that Jenna is a Viper and now this Ghost Smoke shit. You can talk to me about whatever you're dealing with if you want."

You paused, towel clenched in your fists, staring blankly at the wall. The weight of everything threatened to crush you, but you felt the warmth of Hunter’s hand as he reached out, resting it on your shoulder. That simple touch was enough to crack the fragile shield you’d tried so hard to maintain.

Tears welled up again, this time falling freely. Before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out, each one tugging at the raw wound inside you. “Hunter, I don't know what to do.”

He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a firm embrace. The warmth and steadiness of him anchored you as you broke down, sobs shaking your frame.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered, his hand gently rubbing your back. “We’ll figure this out, I promise. You’re not alone.”

The floodgates opened, and you told him everything—how you met Jenna, her request to find dirt on Percy, your dad supposedly wanting out of the Sinners, and the revelation that Bullet and Apex weren’t just names, but legacies tied to betrayal and death. Hunter listened in silence, holding you tight, his own expression darkening with every word.

In that moment, the fear and uncertainty didn’t vanish, but they felt a little more bearable. You had someone who knew, someone who would stand by you.

————

You and Hunter sat side by side on his worn couch, the late morning sun casting a soft light through the window. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable now; it was a shared reprieve after an outpouring of truths.

Hunter leaned back, one arm resting along the back of the couch, the other in the bag of chips he pulled out for you two. Your breakfast. He let out a breath, shaking his head slowly. “So, Jenna came to you with this whole thing about Percy and the Ghost Smoke operation, and you just… jumped in? Talk about submissive.”

You punch his shoulder lightly, and managed a small smile, the relief of finally sharing the truth giving your chest room to breathe. “I didn’t think it would spiral like this,” you admitted. “It was supposed to be simple—find out what Percy was up to, help Jenna. But now, with what we know...”

Hunter’s eyes darkened as he nodded. “It’s more than just racing politics. It’s deeper, more dangerous.” He glanced at you, concern still etched into his features. “And you’re sure Anton has no idea you’re involved?”

The question hung heavy between you, but you felt more grounded now. You nodded. “For now, he doesn’t. But I don’t know how long that will last.”

A sudden thought crossed your mind, and you straightened. “Do you think Mikey knows Jenna is with the Vipers?”

Hunter shrugged, "She give you any reason to think that?"

"She was just... observant man. The other day—when we went on the drive. She remembered the Aston from the footage she saw of me and Jenna. Said something about how it was the car I rolled in with 'my girl' in."

Hunter’s smirk returned, and he nudged you again, playfulness edging out the tension. “Maybe she’s paying close attention because she’s totally into you.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile lingered. “I’m being serious, Hunter.”

“Alright, alright,” Hunter said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “But on that note... we need to talk about the Aston.”

You frowned, a hint of confusion crossing your face. “What about it?”

Hunter leaned forward, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by seriousness. “Think about it. We crashed that meeting last night and got caught snooping around. The only lead they have on us is the car. They know we escaped in the AM. If they’re looking for anything, it’ll be that.”

Fuck he was right.

"I say we demolish it. Scrap it for parts or something."

"—no!" you exclaim interrupting his thought. "I'll find a place to have it stashed. Don't worry."

The older guy squinted his eyes in confusion. You were a mechanic, you never got attached to your cars. You knew better than anyone that cars come and go. Yet you couldn't let go of this one.

————

Being a mechanic had its perks, and one of the best was the network of wealthy clientele you’d built over the years. If someone had enough money to buy a custom-built, fully modded car from you, chances were they also had plenty of land—land that could discreetly store a car like yours. Now, you just had to hope their generosity matched the size of their bank accounts.

You stepped out onto the balcony as you scroll through your phone, siffling through your contacts.

"Hmm, maybe John might help me out," you mummer to yourself pressing call.

John was one of your more calm clients. He was the proud new owner of a 1969 Ford Mustang Mach 1. You’d delivered the car just over a month ago—the same night Anton nearly gave you a heart attack by pulling a mock robbery, complete with a gun pointed at you. You shook the memory from your mind, focusing instead on the call as it began to ring.

You first engaged with some small talk before you asked him for help. For all you knew he was a sponsor involved in some shady shit, maybe even involved in Ghost Smoke. Is this what paranoia is?

"I hope there's no complaints about the Mustang," you laugh lightly.

"No complaints Y/n."

"Amazing...so I actually need a favour," you said, leaning on the balcony railing. “I’ve got a car I need to tuck away for a while. Somewhere discreet. Think you could help?”

There was a brief pause, then a hum of consideration. “Hmm, yeah, I’ve got a lake house not too far from here. You can stash it there. No one will bother it.”

“Appreciate it. I’ll swing by later today.”

“Anytime kid,” he said before the call ended.

You exhaled, relief washing over you. One less problem to worry about—for now.

————

After letting Hunter know you’d secured a spot for the car, you set out for the address John had texted. The drive felt almost reflective, the Aston Martin humming beneath you like it understood the significance of this moment. Arriving at the secluded lake house, you carefully parked the car— the car that had genuinely started it all for you.

The Uber ride back to Hunter's was quiet, except for occasional small talk with the driver and faint chatter of the radio. You leaned your head against the window, letting the scenery blur as you reflected on everything that had unfolded.

Your phone buzzed, snapping you out of your thoughts. Hunter’s name flashed on the screen. You swiped to answer.

"Hey," you greeted.

"Hey, where are you?" Hunter's voice was calm but direct.

"In an Uber. On my way back to yours."

"Cool, change of plans. Head to Brenda’s Diner instead."

You frowned, the name clicking in your memory. "Brenda’s? That’s in the next city, like forty minutes away. Why there?"

"Just meet me. We’ll grab breakfast, Hunter said nonchalantly. "I’m almost there already,"

Your confusion deepened, your brows furrowing. "Why are you suddenly all the way out there? And why can’t we eat closer to your place?"

He sighed, "Jenna texted me, okay? She asked me to come here, so I’m here. So just come.”

You blinked, caught off guard. "Wait, what? Jenna texted you? Why does she even have your number?"

Hunter chuckled lightly, clearly amused by your confusion. "Relax, Y/n. Just come here. Who knows, maybe she’ll butter your biscuits or drizzle your pancakes."

"Excuse me—what?" you sputtered, but before you could say more, he hung up, leaving you staring at your phone in disbelief.

You slumped back in the seat, your mind racing. What in the actual hell is going on?

————

“Thank you sir," you say as you get out the Uber. You squint your eyes as you take in the red and yellow sign that said that read Brenda’s. Even the sun shined brighter in this town, from what you knew the town you were currently in—Countsville, wasn’t tainted with race crews and class differences. It was an average suburban town.

You couldn’t help but wonder why Jenna had called you here of all places. Did she have some secret life here? A hidden family? The absurd thought made you chuckle under your breath as you shook your head.

Pulling out your phone, you caught your reflection in the camera and quickly fixed your hair. A pang of nervousness hit you out of nowhere, making you hesitate. Why were you even nervous? Shaking off the feeling, you squared your shoulders and stepped inside.

“Ah, there she is! Y/n!” Hunter’s voice boomed, his arm shooting into the air to wave you over like you were lost in a crowd.

Your eyes darted to him, already settled comfortably in a booth, and then to the two women seated across from him—Jenna and the girl from last night. The one whose name you still didn’t know.

Your steps slowed as their hushed conversation came to an abrupt halt. Without a word, you slid into the booth next to Hunter.

Hunter leaned back in the booth, a smirk playing on his lips. “Took you long enough. Thought maybe you needed a treasure map to find this place.”

“Ha ha,” you deadpanned. Your gaze darted to Jenna, sitting across from you with her arms crossed and her focus firmly planted on the coffee in front of her. She didn’t even glance up when you sat down.

The girl sitting next to her, however—was the complete opposite. She was all smiles, her gaze bouncing between you and Jenna like she was waiting for something to happen between you both.

“Uh, hey. I don’t think we’ve been introduced?” you said, leaning forward slightly.

“I’m Aliyah,” she replied, her grin widening as she reached across the table, hand outstretched.

You took it, chuckling softly. “Nice to meet you.”

Aliyah’s smile turned teasing. “I’m Jenna’s sister.”

“Sister?!” Your jaw dropped as you let go of her hand, the word practically punching its way out of your mouth. Was she a Viper too? Did you get caught up in a family of snakes?

“Well it's nice to meet you,” you muttered, your attention flickering to Jenna. “So, uh, what’s this all about?” You doubt she invited you here to introduce you to her family.

Nothing. Not a word. Jenna’s silence was loud, deafening even, as she swirled her spoon in her coffee like you weren’t even there.

Hunter glanced between the two of you, clearly picking up on the tension. “Oh, this is fun. Should I just grab some popcorn, or…?”

You shot him a glare. “Not helping.”

“Not trying,” he quipped, leaning back with a lazy grin. “Anyway, why don’t you ask Jenna why we’re here? She’s the mastermind behind this little breakfast summit.”

You turned back to her, trying again. “Jenna?”

Still nothing.

“Seriously?” you asked, the irritation creeping into your voice. “You’re just going to ignore me?”

Jenna finally looked up, her expression cool and indifferent. “Oh, I’m sorry. Were you talking to me? Hard to tell when you’ve been acting like I don’t exist for the past few days.”

Hunter snorted, barely holding back a laugh. “She got you there.”

You sighed, sinking back into your seat. This wasn’t what you had anticipated. Sure, you figured she’d be upset about you ghosting her, but you thought you’d moved past that. Last night at the meeting, it felt like you’d reached some kind of unspoken understanding. Yet here she was now, stone-faced and silent, her cold shoulder speaking louder than words.

“Anyways, can we get some actual food in here before someone combusts?”

Aliyah snickered, clearly amused by the dynamic. “Sure, Hunter. Anything to save the day.” She turned her attention to you. “You have to try these pancakes, Brenda’s makes the best pancakes in town!"

Jenna muttered under her breath, just loud enough for you to catch. “Probably too busy to eat pancakes these days.”

Your jaw clenched, but you forced yourself to stay calm. This wasn’t the time or place to start something. Instead, you turned to Aliyah, doing your best to ignore Jenna’s jab. “Yeah, pancakes sound good. Let’s do it.”

Hunter raised his hand to flag down a server. “Pancakes for the table, and maybe a side of good vibes, yeah?”

————

For the past 20 minutes, the table had been quietly enjoying their pancakes, the clinking of cutlery filling the gaps in conversation. You caught Hunter sneaking a glance at your plate, his eyes drifting to the fluffy stack of pastries and then to the glass jar of maple syrup conveniently sitting right next to Jenna. With a sly grin, he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, clearly not letting his earlier joke die.

Aliyah finally broke the silence, her voice cutting through the calm. "Alright, since Jenna's committed to this whole silent act, I guess I’ll get us started. Last night was absolutely insane, and I think we seriously need to talk about everything we learned."

You frowned, glancing between the two girls across from you. “Wait, we? What do you mean, we?”

Aliyah looked at you like you’d asked a ridiculous question. “I mean we, as in all of us sitting here. Jenna, Hunter, me—you. We’re in this now.”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, your brow furrowing deeper. “But… Jenna got her dirt on Percy, didn’t she? That’s what all this was supposed to be about. What more does she have to do with any of this?”

The words came out sharper than you intended, and for the first time since you’d arrived, Jenna’s eyes snapped up to meet yours. Her expression was calm but laced with a distinct edge—and some hurt?

“Are you serious?” she said, setting her coffee cup down with a soft clink. “You think I can just walk away now?”

“Why not?” you shot back. “You wanted proof of what Percy was doing, and you got it. That’s what you asked me to help you with. This whole Ghost Smoke thing—it’s not your problem.”

Jenna’s jaw tightened, and her lips pressed into a thin line. For a moment, it looked like she was biting back a retort. Aliyah, however, was quick to jump in.

“It’s everyone’s problem,” she said firmly, her voice cutting through the tension. “Ghost Smoke isn’t just some petty racing drama, Y/n. It’s destroying lives, and if the Vipers start pushing it harder, it’s going to get worse. Way worse.”

Hunter nodded, his usual laid-back demeanor replaced by something more serious. “Aliyah’s right. Last night wasn’t just some casual run-in with Percy’s people. That dealer wasn’t joking around, and you saw how he talked about the ‘boss.’ They’re planning something big.”

You leaned back in your seat, the weight of their words sinking in. But still, a part of you couldn’t shake the nagging thought that none of this should fall on Jenna—or you, for that matter.

"I don't want you two getting involved," you said, your tone flat and detached, though the tightness in your chest betrayed the storm underneath. You stared at your plate, pushing a piece of pancake around with your fork, avoiding their eyes.

Jenna scoffed, the sound sharp and cutting. “Are you serious right now? You don’t want us involved? After everything last night?”

Your gaze remained fixed downward, even as her frustration bristled against you. “It’s not your fight,” you muttered.

“Not my—?” Jenna’s voice rose, and you finally looked up to see her glaring at you, her hands gripping the edge of the table. “You don’t get to make that call! You think you can just decide when you want me around and when you don't? Newsflash—you’re already in deep, and so are we. There’s no undoing it now.”

You stayed silent, your jaw clenching as you tried to tamp down the surge of emotions threatening to surface. She wasn’t wrong, but she didn’t understand. Couldn’t understand.

You couldn’t drag them further into a world where people are pushing drugs—where people are capable of taking lives, just like they had taken your father’s and uncle's.

“It doesn’t matter why,” you said finally, your voice still low. “I just… I don’t want you involved. Either of you. That’s all.”

Jenna let out an incredulous laugh, throwing her hands in the air. “Unbelievable," she muttered, pushing back her chair abruptly and standing up, her frustration was palpable as she strode toward the diner’s exit.

You watched her leave, a pang of guilt twisting in your stomach. Hunter sighed beside you, leaning back in his seat.

“She’s not wrong, you know,” he said quietly. “You can’t do this alone. They were there last night. As much as you don't it to be true, they're now part of it.”

You didn’t respond, the weight of your own thoughts pressing down too heavily. Even though your intentions were to protect them, you couldn’t help but feel like you were only making things worse.

————

"If you grip the wheel any harder, it’s going to fuse with your hands," Aliyah quipped, casting a cautious glance at her sister.

Jenna shot her a sharp side-eye but said nothing, her focus fixed on the road ahead as they made their way home.

When it became clear that Jenna wasn’t going to return to the table, Aliyah had reluctantly followed her, leaving behind the unfinished business that had brought them all together in the first place.

“I don’t get it,” Aliyah said, breaking the silence. “I thought you two were fine last night. What’s with the sudden mood swing?”

Jenna’s grip on the wheel tightened even further, her knuckles white against the leather. She thought she had been fine too. Last night, things had felt different—maybe not perfect, but at least... manageable. But seeing you again today had stirred something raw and unexpected inside her.

It's not your problem, you said.

“I don’t know,” she muttered, her voice strained, as though admitting it hurt.

"Well I don't think your girl—sorry Y/n had any bad intentions. And if you really want to get involved in this Brimstone drama, then you have to make up with her eventually" Aliyah said, her tone gentler now.

Jenna let out a slow breath through her nose, her eyes never leaving the road. “It’s not that simple,” she murmured. “She ghosted me, Aliyah. And now she’s acting like she has to carry everything on her own, like I can’t handle myself. She wanted me around at first and now she decides I'm out? Oh I'm sorry I wasn't aware I was some fucking doll.”

“Or,” Aliyah countered, “maybe she’s terrified of something way bigger than you realize and doesn’t want to drag you—us into it.”

That struck a nerve. Jenna’s fingers twitched against the steering wheel as she mulled over her sister’s words. Was it fear? Was that why you were pushing her away? Her frustration softened slightly, but the knot in her chest didn’t loosen.

“Even if that’s true, she’s going about it the wrong way,” Jenna said after a moment. “I can’t help if she keeps shutting me out.”

Aliyah smirked faintly, crossing her arms. “So tell her that. You’re not the type to sit around and wait for someone else to fix things, right? Go confront her, like the fiery little Viper you are.”

Jenna rolled her eyes at her sister’s teasing, but the words stayed with her. Maybe Aliyah was right—waiting wasn’t getting her anywhere, and the Brimstone situation wasn’t something she could handle without you. As much as she hated to admit it, you were already too entangled with one another for her to pretend otherwise.

She exhaled sharply, determination taking root. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll figure it out. But if she tries to pull some shit on me again, I won't hold back."

Aliyah grinned. “Now that’s the Jenna I know.”

Aliyah sighed in relief, glad her words had managed to ease her sister’s frustration. She could have kept up the teasing, sure, but she knew better. Deep down, she understood the root of Jenna’s anger—it wasn’t just about the danger or the argument at breakfast.

You weren’t wrong, after all. As far as Aliyah knew, the terms of whatever arrangement you and Jenna had were clear: you’d help her get what she needed, and once she had it, that was that. Simple, transactional, with no strings attached. But that simplicity seemed to be the very thing eating at Jenna now.

It wasn’t just frustration; it was hurt. Hurt because Jenna realized you seemed okay with it all ending there—with the two of you going your separate ways. And it wasn’t okay for her. Aliyah could see it—the sadness in Jenna’s eyes, the way her jaw clenched just a bit tighter than usual. It wasn’t about the Ghost Smoke or Brimstone drama anymore. It was about you.

Her sister wasn’t mad at you for walking away. She was sad that you didn’t seem to need her the way she found herself needing you. Sad that she no longer had a reason to stay connected.

Aliyah glanced at her sister, who was staring straight ahead, her grip on the wheel lighter now but still firm. Jenna didn’t want to admit it, not yet, but she was falling. And Aliyah could only hope she didn’t hit the ground too hard.

As Aliyah mindlessly glanced at her side view mirror, she noticed something.

"Uhm sis, do you think that car's been following us?"

Jenna raises her gaze up to the rear view mirror and she spotted the same car that had been trailing them for a while now—a solid black Escalade. But California traffic is like that, the typical resident wasn't going to lane change like a racer. "I'm sure it's nothing."

Still, to be safe, she made a series of deliberate right turns, one after the other, her pulse quickening with each corner. When she glanced at the mirror again, her fears solidified. The car was still there.

“It’s not nothing, Ali. They are following us,” Jenna said, her voice low but tinged with rising panic.

Aliyah stiffened beside her, her wide eyes darting to the side mirror. “W-what? Who do you think it is? Percy? Or those guys from yesterday?”

Jenna’s jaw clenched as she considered their options.

"Aliyah, call Y/n. Now," Jenna ordered, her voice steady, tossing her phone to her sister.

Aliyah fumbled with the phone, her fingers trembling. “What do I even say? ‘Hey, someone’s following us, want to join the party?’” she muttered nervously, trying to mask her fear.

Jenna shot her a sharp look. “Just tell her where we are and what’s happening. She’ll know what to do.”

Aliyah hesitated for a split second before dialing your number. “It's ringing.” Aliyah whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat.

"Jenna?"

The girl driving couldn't help but feel relief upon the sound of your voice, maybe it was because you both have faced many high stakes situations together and have always made it out on the other side. And in that moment, she felt certain you’d all make it through this one too.

“Okay, so, there’s this car, and it’s been following us for a while. Jenna took a bunch of right turns, and they’re still there. We don’t know who they are, but—”

“Aliyah,” you interrupted, your tone sharp with focus. “Put Jenna on.”

Aliyah quickly handed the phone over, and Jenna brought it to her ear without taking her eyes off the rearview mirror.

“Jenna, can you lose them?” you asked, voice soft, sensing her hesitation.

“I-I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I’ve never done this before—what if I mess up? What if—”

“Jenna,” you interrupted gently, but firmly. “Take a deep breath. You’ve got this. But I need you to help me help you, okay? What’s up ahead?”

Jenna blinked, her focus flicking back to the road. “Uh, there’s a left turn coming up, and... a main road with a lot of traffic.”

“Alright, take the left. Make it clean.”

She nodded, her hands slightly shaky as she turned the wheel, the tires squealing lightly.

“Good,” you encouraged. “Now tell me what’s next. What do you see?”

“There’s an on-ramp to the highway coming up,” she said, her voice tight with nerves.

“Perfect. Get on the highway. Blend into traffic and use the cars to block their line of sight.”

“Okay,” she whispered, guiding the car toward the ramp as Aliyah sat rigid in her seat.

“You’re doing great, Jenna,” you said, keeping your voice calm and steady. “Just focus. You’re faster and smarter than them. Trust yourself.”

Jenna weaved into traffic, her grip still tight on the wheel. She glanced in the rearview mirror and tensed. “They’re still back there.”

“Stay calm,” you said. “What’s in your lane? Any big vehicles?”

“Yeah... there’s a semi up ahead,” she replied, her voice rising with nervous energy.

“Good. Get in its blind spot. Use it as cover. When you’re close to an exit, slip off. They’ll have to stay on the highway.”

She exhaled shakily, maneuvering into position as you guided her through. The tension in the car was thick, but she followed your instructions to the letter.

“Whenever you’re ready,” you said softly.

Jenna swerved off the highway, her heart pounding as the pursuing car sped past the exit.

“They’re gone,” she whispered, her voice thick with disbelief.

“You did it, Jenna,” you said, pride clear in your tone.

She let out a shaky laugh, her shoulders finally relaxing. “We did it,” she corrected, a small smile tugging at her lips.

The line went silent for a moment, the weight of what had just happened hanging in the air. Then, breaking the tension, your voice cut through with a sudden, determined tone.

“Jenna, listen. Can you go home, pack a bag for you and Aliyah, and meet me and Hunter at the mall we went to?”

Jenna’s brow furrowed in confusion. Moments ago, you were adamant about keeping her out of your life, and now you were asking her to pack a bag? She glanced at Aliyah, whose puzzled expression mirrored her own.

Aliyah shrugged dramatically, mouthing, “YOLO.”

“Why?” Jenna asked, her tone cautious.

“I’ll explain everything when we meet. Just trust me and do it, okay?”

Jenna hesitated, her mind racing with questions, but something in your voice made her pause. Finally, she exhaled. “Okay. We’ll meet you there.” And hung up the phone.

“Well, would you look at that—your little lover’s quarrel is finally wrapping up,” Aliyah teased, her grin wide.

“Shut up,” Jenna shot back, though the corners of her lips betrayed her as they curved into a reluctant smile. “I’m still mad at her.”

————

“You two are so confusing,” Hunter chuckled as he drove, his laughter filling the car. “Do you hate each other? Or are you about to jump each other’s bones? Seriously, I can never tell.”

You rolled your eyes, but deep down, you couldn’t help but think he had a point.

“So, care to explain why we’re all packing a bag and meeting up with them again?” Hunter asked, his tone laced with curiosity.

“We’re going on a weekend getaway,” you replied nonchalantly.

Hunter’s head whipped toward you, excitement lighting up his face. “No way! I’ve always wanted to do the Bahamas.”

You laughed. “Not the Bahamas, Hunt. Just somewhere a few hours away. After everything that went down—the meeting, the girls being followed—I think it’s smart for all of us to lay low for a few days. I’m not taking any chances.”

Hunter nodded dramatically, placing a hand over his chest like he was pledging allegiance. “Protecting your girl and your sister-in-law. I respect it.”

Ignoring his teasing, you redirected him. “Just drive us to the garage,” you said firmly. “I need to let Anton know we’ll be out of town for a few days. The last thing I need is him freaking out and sending a search party.”

————

As Hunter pulls into the garage, you take in the sight of the Sinners hard at work, each one laser-focused on their tasks. Was there a race coming up?

Stepping out of the car, your eyes land on Anton at the back, working on a car with Mason. You hadn't seen Mason in a while—not since the Sinner-Viper race nearly two months ago. Not that you missed him; Mason was one of the most aggravating members of the crew. Apparently, Anton in the moment thought so too, judging by the way he was yelling at him for some reason.

"Hey! Long time, no see."

You turned to see Mikey approaching, her brown eyes bright with curiosity.

She tilted her head, eyes scanning both you and Hunter. "So, what have you two been up to?"

"Oh, you know," Hunter chimed in, "just the usual. Saving the day and eating pancakes"

Mikey raised a brow, her skepticism softened by amusement. “Uh-huh. Sounds like you two are living the dream.”

She shifted her attention to you, crossing her arms. “Haven’t seen you around for a few days. No more late nights at the garage?”

You felt a flicker of unease. Something about Mikey always made you cautious, as if she could see right through you. Keeping your tone casual, you rubbed the back of your neck. “Yeah, the Aston’s finished, so I’m finally catching up on sleep. Not much reason to be here right now.”

Mikey tilted her head, clearly not satisfied with your vague answer. “Really? And here I thought this place was your second home. What’s been keeping you busy?”

Before you could formulate a response, Hunter swooped in. “Oh, don’t worry, we’re not slacking off. We’re just gearing up for a little road trip.”

“Road trip?” Mikey repeated, her interest clearly piqued.

Hunter nodded, grinning. “Yeah, figured it’s time for some fresh air and open roads. Recharge the batteries, you know?”

You shot him a subtle glare, but he just winked at you, unfazed.

Mikey narrowed her eyes slightly, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “Interesting. Well, have fun with that. Don’t get into too much trouble.”

“Us? Trouble?” Hunter gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Never.”

"We actually came here to let Anton know we’ll be gone for a couple of days,” you say, flashing Mikey a polite smile. “Catch you later.” Without waiting for a response, you grab Hunter’s arm and drag him along.

“Would it kill you not to spill everything?” you hiss under your breath.

Hunter shrugged, his usual carefree grin firmly in place. “Relax. It’s gonna get out eventually that we’re taking a couple days off. If we act shady, it’ll just make people more suspicious.”

You sighed, shaking your head at his nonchalance. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Together, you made your way toward the back of the garage, where Anton and Mason were knee-deep in their latest project.

“I don’t know why I keep you around, Mason,” Anton groaned, his hands dragging down his face in exasperation. “You incompetent fool!”

Hearing your footsteps, he glanced up, his frustration momentarily melting into surprise. “Y/n? What are you doing here?”

“Hey,” you greeted, keeping your tone light. “I'm kind of in a rush, but just wanted to let you know Hunter and I are heading out of town for a couple of days. Figured I’d let you know so you don’t worry.”

Anton’s brows furrowed as he straightened up, eyeing the both of you. “Heading out? What for?”

“Just a road trip,” you said casually, shrugging like it was no big deal. “You know, get some fresh air, clear our heads. Nothing major.”

His eyes flicked to Hunter, then back to you, his suspicion barely veiled. “Where to and who’s going?”

"We don't really know yet, wanna see where the road takes us you know? And just us two," you replied smoothly, lying without hesitation.

Anton’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he was going to press harder. Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, fine. But something feels off about this, and I don’t like it.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “If this is about something dangerous, you better tell me now. You know I’ll have your back.”

You swallowed hard but maintained your composure. “It’s not, I promise. We’ll be fine.”

He didn’t look convinced. Anton studied you for a moment longer before nodding, though his concern was evident. "Alright. Just be careful out there, okay? Keep your phones on and don't do anything stupid."

"Got it," you promised, trying to sound reassuring.

Hunter gave Anton a mock salute. "We'll be model citizens, swear."

Anton rolled his eyes but didn't press further. As you turned to leave, Mason chimed in from where he was leaning against the car. "Bring me back something cool! Like a souvenir or somethin'!"

Hunter snorted. "Sure thing, buddy. How about a map so you can finally figure out how to navigate a racetrack without crashing?"

You couldn't help but laugh as you walked away, though Anton's lingering concern weighed heavily in the back of your mind.

————

The SUV you “borrowed” from the garage rumbled along the highway as you adjusted your grip on the wheel, glancing at Hunter slouched comfortably in the passenger seat. Your packed bag sat in the back alongside his, evidence of your brief pit stop at home. 

The memory of Anton’s concerned expression lingered, gnawing at you. You hated that you hadn’t told him the truth. He’d lost his father too—same as you—and you knew better than anyone how much that loss shaped him. How much it shaped both of you. But unlike you, Anton didn’t know there was more to the story. That it wasn’t just a tragic accident.

You felt awful for keeping it from him, for standing there and letting him believe everything was fine. But what were you supposed to do? Drop that bombshell and then tell him you were heading out of town for a few days? There was no way he’d have let you leave. No way he wouldn’t try to step in, to get involved.

And as much as it tore you up inside, you couldn’t let that happen. Not yet. Protecting Jenna—and by extension, your fragile alliance with her—had to come first. There was too much at stake, and dragging Anton into it now would only complicate things further. Still, the weight of your silence felt heavier with each passing mile.

“You good?” Hunter’s voice broke through your spiraling thoughts, pulling you back to the present.

“Yeah,” you muttered, though the word felt hollow.

He raised a brow but didn’t push, thankfully. Instead, he leaned back in his seat, letting the conversation from earlier drift back in.

“I gotta admit. I thought Anton would take a lot more convincing.”

Hunter glanced at you with a smirk. “What, you thought he’d put his foot down? He knows you’re stubborn as hell. Probably figured there was no point fighting you on it.”

“Maybe,” you murmured, though a part of you wasn’t so sure. Anton letting you go that easily still didn’t sit right. He’d been wary, his words cautious, but ultimately, he hadn’t stopped you. You wondered if he trusted you more than you expected—or if he had reasons of his own for letting you leave.

Shaking the thought from your mind, you shifted the conversation. “By the way, you seemed pretty comfortable with Jenna and Aliyah back at the diner.”

Hunter shrugged nonchalantly. “They’re cool. Aliyah’s funny, and Jenna’s… well, Jenna. We were just chatting for a bit before you showed up.”

“Before I showed up?” you echoed, glancing at him skeptically. “She didn’t seem in a chatty mood when I got there.”

Hunter chuckled. “I guess I have that effect on people. Smooth-talker, remember?”

Something about the way he said it made you pause, a memory resurfacing. “Wait. Jenna texted you, didn’t she? How do you even know her?”

Hunter tensed ever so slightly, and you didn’t miss it. “Uh… well…”

The gears in your head were starting to turn. “Hunter,” you pressed, narrowing your eyes. “How do you know Jenna?”

He fidgeted with his hands, clearly stalling. “It’s complicated, alright? Don’t worry about it.”

Before you could demand an answer, the bright lights of the mall parking lot came into view, and you spotted Jenna and Aliyah parked and waiting near the back of the mall. Hunter exhaled dramatically, clearly relieved to be off the hook—for now.

"We're here," he announced unnecessarily, pointing out the obvious.

You rolled your eyes but focused on parking the SUV. As soon as you stepped out, Jenna's sharp gaze locked onto you, her arms crossed, while Aliyah waved with a cheeky grin. Whatever Hunter was hiding would have to wait.

You park the SUV next to their car and step out, heading straight for the trunk. Without a word, you pop it open before turning toward Jenna and Aliyah. Stretching out your hands, you motion for their bags.

Aliyah hands over her duffle bag without hesitation, but Jenna hesitates, squinting at you with suspicion. Her scoff cuts through the quiet as you turn around and load the bags into the trunk.

Following you to the back of the SUV, she crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow. "Uhm, are you planning to explain what's going on anytime soon?"

You close the trunk with a sharp thunk and meet her gaze, keeping your tone steady. "I will."

You glance over your shoulder, flashing her a grin. "Oh, and hey—nice work shaking those guys. Not everyone's got those skills. Seriously, you were impressive."

As you turn back to the SUV, Jenna's voice comes softly, almost shyly, "Thanks."

You don't catch it, too focused on adjusting the bags in the trunk, but Aliyah and Hunter exchange knowing looks. Jenna's rare vulnerability wasn't something they saw often, and the faint pink dusting her cheeks didn't go unnoticed either.

————

You merge onto Interstate 5, the highway stretching south through California. The evening sun dips lower on the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of gold and fiery orange. Hunter has his window down, one arm draped lazily over the edge, while Aliyah hums along to a faint tune playing on the radio. Jenna sits diagonally across from you, arms crossed, her gaze fixed out the window. The soft pout on her lips and the sharpness of her glare suggest she’s deep in thought—and likely still mad at you.

You glance at her through the rearview mirror, unable to help the small smile that tugs at your lips. Even in her frustration, she looks ridiculously adorable.

As you bring your eyes back to the road, they flicker back to the mirror—and that’s when it happens. Jenna catches your gaze, her sharp brown eyes locking onto yours.

Crap.

She breaks the silence, her tone firm but tinged with curiosity. “Alright, enough stalling. Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?”

You’re relieved she doesn’t make a snarky comment about catching you staring. Instead, you sigh and focus back on the road, deciding it’s time to answer her question.

“I’m sorry,” you start, glancing briefly at her reflection, then at Aliyah. “To both of you. You were right earlier… about being involved in all this.”

Hunter nods in silent approval from the passenger seat, encouraging you to keep going. “…As much as I don’t want either of you involved,” you continue, catching him facepalming out of the corner of your eye, “there’s no avoiding it now.”

"Neither one of can help it, and that car following you? It kind of put things into perspective for me. So I think the safe option for all of us to get out of town for a few days."

Jenna raises a brow, her expression unreadable, but she doesn’t respond right away. Aliyah and Hunter both glance at each other, waiting for someone to fill the silence. When Jenna finally speaks, her voice is softer than you expected. “Still didn’t answer the question,” she says. “Where are we going?”

You shrug one shoulder, keeping your eyes on the road. “I don’t know,” you admit with a lopsided grin. “I’m just driving.”

Jenna stares at you for a long moment before exhaling and shaking her head. She doesn’t voice the acceptance of your apology, but something in her gaze softens, and you can tell she’s made her peace with it—for now.

“Unbelievable,” she mutters, loud enough for everyone to hear. “We’re on the run, and you’re winging it? Great plan, genius.”

Aliyah bursts into laughter, and Hunter cheers, “This is classic! Road trip roulette—who needs a destination when you’ve got vibes?” 

Jenna pinches the bridge of her nose, mumbling something under her breath, but you swear you catch the faintest hint of a smile.

————

The next hour passes surprisingly smoothly. Everyone keeps themselves entertained in their own way, avoiding any mention of the issues that pushed you all to leave town in the first place. Aliyah has her headphones in, swaying gently to whatever music she’s listening to, while Jenna scrolls through her phone, occasionally glancing out the window. Hunter fiddles with the radio, switching stations until he finds a faintly decent song, only to switch it again moments later.

You keep your focus on the road, but your mind drifts. A part of you wished you could bring back the easy banter you used to have with Jenna—back before you ghosted her. It would've made the drive so much more fun. Instead, there’s this quiet tension hanging in the air between you two, one you’re desperately hoping will dissolve sooner rather than later. At least Hunter agreed to take over driving on the way back. Maybe by then, things between you and Jenna will be better.

Suddenly, Hunter starts humming, his voice cutting through the silence. At first, it’s aimless, but then it takes shape.

“Ninety-nine bottles of milk on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of milk!” he sings loudly, grinning as he looks around at everyone.

You groan. “Oh, no. Don’t.”

Aliyah chuckles behind you, joining in softly, “Take one down, pass it around, ninety-eight bottles of milk on the wall!”

Jenna sighs dramatically but mutters, “This is so dumb,” just before she jumps in on the next line. Within minutes, the whole car erupts into an awkward yet oddly harmonious singalong, voices overlapping and laughter spilling between verses. By the time you hit ninety-five bottles, everyone’s belting at the top of their lungs.

It’s ridiculous, it’s cheesy, and it’s exactly what you all needed.

When the laughter finally dies down, Jenna clears her throat. “Uh, I need to pee.”

You glance at her through the rearview mirror, raising an eyebrow. Internally, you can’t help but think, Really? We’ve only been on the road for an hour. Did she not go before we left?

But you don’t voice the thought. Instead, you nod, spotting a route stop up ahead. “Alright, we’ll pull over.”

As you exit the highway and roll into the rest stop, Hunter claps your shoulder. “Road trips, man. This is what it’s all about.”

You just shake your head, chuckling as you park the SUV.

————

As everyone steps out at the route stop, the golden light of the setting sun casts long shadows over the parking lot. Hunter stretches dramatically, mumbling something about his aching legs, while Aliyah is already darting toward the brightly lit convenience store, proclaiming her hunt for snacks. Jenna heads to the bathroom, and once she returns she lingers by the SUV, her arms folded, her body language closed.

“Need anything?” you ask, hesitating slightly as you approach her.

She shakes her head but doesn’t look at you. “I’m good.”

You nod, biting back the urge to say more, and join Aliyah and Hunter into the store. The shelves are stocked with everything from bags of chips to questionable gas station sushi.

Hunter immediately gravitates toward the candy aisle, gleefully holding up a pack of gummy worms. “You know you want some,” he teases, tossing a pack at Aliyah, who yelps and tries to dodge.

You chuckle at their antics but can’t help glancing back toward the SUV, wondering if Jenna’s still standing there, or if she’s wandered in.

She hasn’t.

Grabbing a couple of bottled drinks and a bag of chips, you head to the register. Aliyah sidles up beside you, arms full of snacks. “Do you think we should get something for Jenna? She barely ate earlier.”

You hesitate, and recall her eating a chocolate the day you both hung out at the mall and then grab that brand of chocolate from a display near the checkout.

Outside, you find Jenna leaning against the side of the car, scrolling through her phone. You hold out the candy as you approach. “Figured you might want this.”

She glances at it, then at you, her lips twitching like she’s suppressing a thank-you. “Thanks,” she says quietly, taking it without meeting your eyes.

There’s a pause. The others are still inside, their laughter faintly audible from the store. For a moment, it’s just you and Jenna in the fading light.

“You okay?” you ask softly, unsure if you’re even expecting an answer.

She finally meets your gaze, her expression guarded but not unkind. “I’m fine,” she replies, but her tone doesn’t match the words.

You want to push, to ask what’s really on her mind, but something about the way she holds herself stops you. Instead, you nod and step back, giving her space.

She seemed fine interacting with you in the group, she was more vocal. But once it was just you two she got all quiet. But she surprised you with her next words.

She finally glances at you properly, her eyes searching yours. “Thanks, by the way. For this. I know you didn’t have to.”

You swallow, suddenly aware of how close she’s standing. “You don’t have to thank me, Jenna. I just… I want to make sure you’re safe—and your sister!”

She nods faintly, looking down at the ground. For a second, it feels like the rest of the world fades away, leaving just the two of you under the flickering lights.

Before the moment can stretch too long, Hunter sticks his head out of the car window. “Yo! Are we road-tripping or setting up camp here? Let’s go!”

Jenna chuckles, the tension breaking as she steps back. “Guess we should get going.”

“Yeah.” You push off the SUV, giving her a small nod. “Let’s hit the road.”

As you both climb back into the car, you can’t help but glance at her through the mirror again. She doesn’t notice this time, and you’re glad she doesn’t.

————

"Hey, Y/n, remember the car I was driving yesterday?" Aliyah asks, her voice breaking the comfortable silence that’s fallen over the SUV.

It’s been about two and a half hours since you hit the road, and everyone is busy with their snacks. Conversations drift in and out, short bursts of chatter punctuated by the rustling of wrappers.

You hum softly, urging her to continue.

Aliyah glances at you in the rearview mirror, her tone casual. “It’s pretty cool that you own that car. My dad used to have the same one, and I remember him always going on and on about how rare it was. Small world, huh?” She shrugs, clearly amused by the coincidence.

You and Jenna freeze. For a moment, no one says anything, and the awkward silence hangs in the air like a weight.

You glance at Jenna through the rearview mirror, and she avoids your gaze. Great, you think. Of all the things to come up right now, this had to be it.

“Well…” you clear your throat, deciding Aliyah deserves to know at this point. “That was your dad’s car.”

Aliyah’s brows furrow in confusion. “What? No, his was black.”

“Yeah,” you admit with an awkward laugh, “and then I wrapped it green.”

The realization dawns on her, and she turns to Jenna, her jaw dropping as she whisper yells, “Oh my God! You like the girl who stole Dad’s car?”

Jenna’s eyes widen, and her face flushes. “Aliyah, shut up!” she snaps, but her tone lacks bite.

Aliyah smirks, clearly reveling in her discovery. “I mean, this is peak comedy. She stole Dad’s car, and you’re just fine with it?”

“I’m not fine with it,” Jenna retorts, but her lips curve slightly as if she’s holding back a smile. “And for the record, it was both of us who stole it.”

Aliyah raises her hands in mock surrender. “Oh, so now you’re an accomplice? Love that for you.”

While they bicker in their private conversation, Jenna’s eyes soften, and her gaze turns nostalgic. “That day was insane,” she murmurs, more to herself than anyone else. “We had no idea what we were doing, but it was... kind of thrilling."

Not knowing what the two girls were talking about, you glance at her in the mirror for the millionth time today. Jenna’s smile, faint and genuine, tugs at something deep in your chest, but before you can dwell on it, Hunter’s voice cuts in.

“Well, look at you,” he says with a laugh, nudging your arm. “Stealing the car of the dad of the girl you like. That’s one for the books, huh?”

“Shut up, Hunter,” you groan, shoving his arm off you.

He just grins wider. “Nah, I’m serious. You’ve really outdone yourself here. Romantic and criminal—who knew you had it in you?”

Rolling your eyes, you lean back into the seat, but an idea suddenly strikes you. "Alright, since we're all in a sharing mood, how about this—Hunter, how exactly do you and Jenna know each other?" Your tone pointed, almost teasing.

Silence.

Not a word, not even the rustle of snack wrappers from the backseat.

Aliyah breaks the tension, her brows knitting as she glances at her sister. "Wait...what? I thought we both met Hunter this morning?"

You glance in the rearview mirror. Jenna’s expression is stone cold, her face unreadable, like she’s mastered the art of giving away nothing. She doesn’t so much as blink, just stares out the window as though the question didn’t even register.

Hunter, on the other hand, looks like he’s sweating bullets. His hand fidgets with the strap of his seatbelt, and he clears his throat awkwardly. “Uh, well… you see…”

Before Hunter can dig himself into an even deeper hole, Jenna suddenly bursts out laughing. The sound is so unexpected, so completely jarring after the tension-filled silence, that your head whips around to look at her.

Her laughter is light and melodic, the kind that shakes her shoulders and makes her eyes crinkle at the corners. For a second, you forget about the chaos in the car and just stare.

Her laugh is kind of… cute, you think, catching yourself and quickly looking back at the road before anyone notices.

Jenna waves a hand, her laughter dying down just enough to speak. “Relax, Hunter. Seriously, it’s not a big deal. Go ahead, tell them.”

Aliyah sighs loudly from the backseat, crossing her arms. “Okay, my patience is wearing thin. Someone better spill before I start throwing snacks.”

"Okay fine, you tell them Jenna, since you think it's so funny," Hunter mumbles defeated, shrinking into his seat.

Jenna glances at Hunter, who is clearly trying to become one with his seatbelt. With a small shrug, she answers casually, “I walked in on Hunter… being intimate.”

You blink, nearly missing your next lane change. “Oh, wow. That’s… embarrassing,” you mutter, trying not to laugh. But then your brain starts piecing things together, and you frown. “Wait a second. How does that even happen? Like… was this in public or something? Did you come to Brimstone, or were you—”

Hunter interrupts, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “I was in Summer Valley, okay?”

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye. “Oh, okay. Get that bag, I guess. But, man, from the way you were sweating, I thought it was something really bad.”

For a second, you think the tension has finally lifted. But then Hunter lets out a resigned sigh, muttering, “I was with someone from the Viper's crew.”

It all made sense now, why Hunter was so understanding of the idea of you being affiliated with a Viper—why there was two toothbrushes in his bathroom.

He had his own fucking Viper.

“What the fuck?!” you shout, your voice climbing a whole octave as you instinctively swerve the car.

Hunter grabs the oh-shit handle. “Whoa, whoa, focus! You’re driving, not judging!”

“What the fuck Hunter?!” you yell again, steadying the wheel as the SUV veers slightly back into the lane. Thankfully, it’s almost 8 pm, and the highway is relatively empty, so you narrowly avoid disaster. "You're fucking a Viper?! What the actual—"

Hunter throws up his hands defensively. “What’s the big deal?! You are too!”

You slam the brakes—figuratively, of course—your head whipping around to glare at him. “EXCUSE ME?!”

Your face goes red-hot, and you stammer, “I’m not—what—literally who?! I’m not fucking anybody!”

Hunter smirks, sensing your flustered state. “Oh, sure. But you wish you were fucking a Viper.”

If you thought you couldn’t blush any harder, you were wrong. From the backseat, Aliyah is howling with laughter while Jenna buries her face in her hands, her own ears tinged pink.

“You’re delusional,” you snap at Hunter, but your embarrassment only fuels his laughter. “Seriously, who even—"

“Doesn’t matter!” Hunter interrupts, his grin practically splitting his face. “I’m just saying, don’t judge me when you’ve got your own Viper situation brewing back there.”

“Hunter, I swear—”

Aliyah cuts you off, gasping between giggles. “Oh my God, I can’t breathe. This is the best road trip ever!”

Jenna groans softly, pressing a hand to her forehead, but the small, stupid smile tugging at her lips betrays her. She hated being teased, especially by Aliyah, who had the precision of a sniper when it came to embarrassing her. Yet, as the chaos bubbled in the backseat, Jenna found her thoughts wandering to the things Hunter had been saying to poke at you.

What had you two been talking about? Hunter clearly knew something she didn’t, and now, curiosity gnawed at her despite herself. She glanced at you, watching as you muttered under your breath and tightened your grip on the steering wheel like it might save you. It wasn’t just the teasing; something else was making you squirm, and Jenna couldn’t stop the faint curve of her lips from growing into a fuller smile.

She didn’t know what Hunter was hinting at, but the way your ears burned red and your gaze stayed glued to the road… she couldn’t help but find it a little endearing.

————

The freeway stretched ahead in an endless ribbon of asphalt, swallowed by the inky darkness of night. The faint glow of distant city lights barely pierced the dark sky, leaving only the occasional flash of headlights to illuminate the passing road signs and surrounding emptiness. It was quiet now, except for the hum of the tires against the pavement and the faint sound of Aliyah’s soft snores from the backseat. The earlier chaos had subsided, leaving the SUV calm in stillness.

You glanced over at Hunter, slumped against the window with his head bobbing slightly with the movement of the car. He and Aliyah had devoured the candy earlier like children on Halloween and, predictably, crashed hard. For the last thirty minutes, they’d been completely out, and you were silently grateful for the reprieve. Any more teasing, and you were sure your heart would’ve leapt out of your chest.

Your heart was still pounding, though.

You sigh as you wrestled with a thought you’d been avoiding for a while. You never addressed ghosting Jenna. You mentioned to her at the meeting that you’d talk later, but then you didn’t. And now, things between you were stuck in this strange, awkward limbo. You hated it. You hated the distance and the way your banter had evaporated into stilted exchanges.

More than anything, you wanted this trip to be enjoyable for both of you—for her.

“Hey, Jenna you awake?” you said softly, testing the waters. You knew she was awake. Her breathing wasn’t even enough to fool you. You just needed something to break the ice.

“Yeah, what’s up?” she muttered, her voice low to avoid waking her sister.

You hesitated for a moment, your hands flexing nervously against the steering wheel. Then you took a deep breath and decided to do what needed to be done.

“I just… I want to apologize,” you began, keeping your eyes fixed on the road ahead. “For ghosting you. I know it was shitty, and you didn’t deserve it.”

She didn’t respond immediately, but you could feel her eyes on you, listening.

“I… I had a conversation with my mom the first day I didn’t reply to you,” you continued, your voice soft and unsteady. “And it—it messed with my head. I found out my dad wanted out of the Sinners. That completely flipped everything I thought I knew. I was already so confused, and it just made things worse. And then…” You paused, forcing yourself to push through the lump in your throat. “It made me feel terrified. Of everything. Of this whole situation. And of you. Of what you made me feel—what I felt for—”

You clamped your mouth shut, cutting yourself off realizing you spilled too much. Your mind was already coming up with excuses for what you meant by what you made me feel. Heat crawled up your neck, your knuckles stark white against the dim light from the dashboard. You scrambled internally for a way to gloss over your slip-up, but the words weren’t coming.

“I’m not trying to excuse what I did,” you said after a beat. “There’s no excuse for it. I just wanted to explain, to tell you why I acted the way I did. And to say I’m sorry. Really sorry.” 

She's not saying anything. The silence stretched uncomfortably, and you risked a quick glance in her direction, her expression unreadable in the faint glow of the passing headlights.

Panic began to claw at your chest.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” you blurted out, your words rushing now. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I know what I did was shitty, and I know I have no right to expect forgiveness—”

"I know you didn't mean to hurt me, Greaser."

Greaser.

You smile.

And that was all she said until Hunter and Aliyah awoken from their slumber twenty minutes later. But it was enough.

————

"Damn, how long was I out?" Hunter grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as he shifted in his seat.

Aliyah stretched with an exaggerated groan, yawning as if she'd been asleep for days.

"Only about forty minutes," you replied, glancing at them. The weight in your chest felt lighter after your moment with Jenna, but a part of you braced for the teasing chaos that might erupt now that they were awake.

Aliyah groaned dramatically. "Ugh, I was hoping the driving part would be over when I woke up. Are we seriously just gonna spend days cooped up in this car?"

"We’ve only been driving for like three hours," Hunter pointed out with a shrug.

"And that’s not far enough?" Aliyah raised a brow.

Hunter nodded, turning his gaze to you. "She’s got a point, you know."

"...I have a suggestion." Aliyah finally says.

"Shoot," you encourage her.

She leaned forward slightly, a mischievous grin spreading across her face as she looked at Jenna. "How about we visit Markus? We’re probably close to him already."

Jenna’s face lit up instantly, her smile matching her sister’s excitement. "That would be amazing, Ali, but… are we really gonna risk leading trouble straight to him?"

Aliyah waved the concern off with a dismissive hand. "Come on, you really think those bad guys are gonna follow us all the way to LA?"

While the sisters debated, you leaned toward Hunter, lowering your voice. "Who the fuck is Markus?"

Hunter smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "What’s the matter? You jealous?"

"What? No!" you snapped, scoffing like the idea was ridiculous. But your mind betrayed you, lingering on Jenna’s radiant smile. Who was this guy, and why did she look so happy talking about him?

The sisters’ conversation quieten down, and Aliyah finally addresses you, her grin still firmly in place. "Y/n, how does a trip to UCLA sound?"

next chapter

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@cobaltperun

[bunni-v1]

Past and Future (Happy Birthday Lighter)

🍓Finished this shit at 4:30am, if y'all don't enjoy this I will kill myself. Anyway had fun writing this, it's more of me fucking around and finding out with Lighter's character, but I think it's fluffy and cute so... enjoy lol

TW: Mentions of Death; Suicidal ideation

Info: Lighter x GN!Reader; Angst to Fluff (?) Kinda?; hurt and comfort (i think??)

Word Count: 2k

December 27th. Two days after Christmas, five days before New Year's. Oddly placed on the calendar, awkwardly smooshed between two major holidays in New Eirdu. To most, it was insignificant, just another day. To Lighter it was something he dreaded each year. Between the holiday cheer and the buzz of excitement for the new year, it was nothing more than a looming cloud dampening his mood.

December 27th, Lighter Lorenz’s birthday, one of the worst days of his life.

He didn’t hate birthdays, they were nice when they were for other people. He had to admit he enjoyed getting gifts for others and seeing their eyes light up when they opened it, and the light atmosphere when everyone sang a horrendously off-key rendition of the birthday song was hard to hate. They were celebrations of the life of that person, a hurrah to cheer them into another long year until the next came around. He just hated his own.

Gifts and cake and warm fuzzy sweet nothings acted only as reminders that he was alive. He was alive, and everyone else who deserved to be wasn’t. Another marker of another year since he lost everything. He wanted to pretend it wasn’t there, maybe sleep until the 28th or run away for a while, but the girls wouldn’t let him.

They’d managed to weasel his birthday out of him about a year into his being here, and they made a point to celebrate it each year. Nothing big, they knew he wasn’t one for huge crowds outside of his fights, but still a party where they showered him with gifts and congratulations that he did not deserve. He didn’t have it in him to tell them to stop.

So, year after year he grinned and bared it with as much grace as someone as fucked up as he could. It wasn’t hard to be grateful for all they did for him, but it was always hard to smile and accept it like he deserved it. The nagging voice in the back of his head reminded him that he shouldn’t be allowed to be this happy, not when his stupidity cost the lives of good people ��� wonderful people, who he loved.

He usually only lasted until Burnice got out the nitro fuel, then he would quietly slip away from his own party to be alone. The quiet was easier on his mind than the distractions of colorful confetti and sweet cake made just to his taste. He liked to sit in the pain, to recede into that cocoon of hurt, as if to apologize to his friends by torturing himself. 

This year was no different, of course. Just as Burnice handed out the nitro fuel, he quietly slunk into the shadows, smiling to himself as the rest of the Sons of Calydon remained celebrating in his steed. He walked his way to his bike, sighing in the cool night air. The breeze on his skin was the only comfort from the hell in his mind.

He let the air out, hand tucking into his pocket to pull out the little thing of candy he carried around on him. The little lemon drops fall into his palm with ease, and he tosses them back with practiced ease. He rarely felt like smoking anymore, but his birthday was always a struggle. The heightened emotions made him want to take the easy route out, to fall back on his old ways and make stupid mistakes in hopes it would make him feel better. Instead of giving in, though, he sucked on those candies like a saving grace. It was the least he could do for his old friends.

As he stopped in front of his bike, he shoved the candies back into his pocket. Taking a second to himself in the quiet of the night. It was almost over, just a few more hours, and the pain would lessen back down to an ache again. A little longer and he wouldn’t have to worry about constant reminders of being alive, and he wouldn’t have to save face for everyone else’s sake.

“Lighter?” A quiet, soft, almost worried voice from behind him.

He glanced over his shoulder, eyes softening when he saw it was you. You’d been quiet about his birthday all month, not bothering him with any reminders. You knew, intrinsically, how much he hated it. You always knew everything about him, it was an infuriating quirk of yours that he would never want to go away. 

“Hey, dollface,” his voice just as quiet as he raised his arm for you to duck under, “got tired of the party?”

You press yourself into his side, enjoying the warmth of your personal heater, “I saw you leave and I wanted to make sure you weren’t doing anything stupid.”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “Me stupid? Never. Just needed some air.”

“Is this getting some air just for you, or could you use some company?” You offer, giving him the reins.

He liked the alone time, he wanted to wallow in self-pity more than anything in the world. His head reminded him that he deserved to be alone on a night like this. Yet, your eyes flutter a little at him, and your lashes brush away those awful thoughts like nothing. 

“I’ve always got room for you,” he hums, giving you one last squeeze before helping you on the bike.

The drive is peaceful, the breeze cooling his hot skin like an apology from the world for all he’d been put through. He doesn’t think he deserves it, but he wouldn’t deny the feeling either. Your arms wrapped firmly around his middle, head pressed against his shoulder only calmed him further. It grounded him back in the present, reminding him that the past had long passed and that he still had things to live for.

The Sons of Calydon, who took him in and cared for him despite how distant he was at the start. The Proxies, who took special care to stop by earlier and give him a gift, congratulated him for being so strong and thanked him for his constant help when they needed it. The other former members of his mercenary group who, despite how much he wanted to deny it, held no ill will to him and wished him the best for the future.

And, of course, you curled against his back. You trusted him with your life, and he would easily lay his down for you – not that you’d let him if you had any say. You kept reminding him every single day that he was someone worth loving, that he was more than his past, and that he was the one who could define what his future looked like. It was hard not to picture it without you there, not with how attached he’d become to your little displays of love for him.

Displays like this, following him out of his party to make sure he wouldn’t do anything to hurt himself more than he was already hurting. He smiles warmly back at you as he eases his bike to a stop at his favorite quiet spot. You smile back pressing a kiss to his shoulder before moving to get off the bike.

You intertwined your fingers with his like it was second nature as you walked to the fence at the cliff's edge. From here you could see the endless desert, and the edge of the hollow, the moon peaking over it in an almost beautiful display. He helps you sit on the fence, placing a protective hand around your waist to keep you from falling forward.

Your hand presses his head into your shoulder, scratching at his scalp with such care it nearly makes his knees buckle. Another reminder of what he has that he couldn’t afford to lose. No one has known him the way you know him, no one has ever had the effect you have on him. It was almost enough to make all the horror of his past dissipate in his mind, but a small part of him still clung to it. Unwilling to allow himself to fully forget.

“You okay?” You ask, interrupting the quiet bubble that had formed around you.

He nods, “Thinking.”

“About…?” You urge with a raise of a brow, unbearably cute in his mind's eye.

He smiles, genuine for the first time that night, “About how much I love you.”

You shake your head at him, but you don’t argue with him about how he’s lying, or try and force him to tell you everything. You don’t need to. You always trust that he’ll tell you when he’s ready. It’s another thing about you that he couldn’t risk losing.

You let the quiet fall over you again, leaning into his chest with a content hum. He allows himself to indulge in your affections for now, preferring having you here in his arms than staring aimlessly at the skyline by himself. It was easier to swallow the ache in his throat with you to soften the harshness of the feeling, regardless of whether you knew you did it or not. 

He wonders, hopelessly, what his old friends would think of you. They would like you, he was sure of that. You had a personality that would let you fit right in with their eclectic group. The idea of you smiling side by side with them warms his chest, his heart aching as it fades away. A dream he’d never get to see.

He’s not aware that he’s crying, he’s not sure how long he has been crying, all he knows is that you turn to him and cradle his face in your hands. They wipe at his tears without needing to be asked, another quiet reassurance that you cared for him regardless of what was going on in his head.

Lighter sniffles pathetically as his eyes lock with your worried ones. You seem to know what's wrong without him needing to say it, which he likely wouldn’t be able to do if you weren’t able to deduce it on your own. You frown at him, bringing him down to kiss his forehead.

“I’m sorry it’s so hard,” You whisper, wrapping your arms around him.

He pulls you in tightly, desperate for the skinship you offered up, “It never gets easier. Everything is a reminder.”

“I know, that’s okay,” you press a kiss to the side of his face, “I don’t think you need to forget it, Lighter. I think you need to learn how to live with it.”

He closes his eyes, the hollow where they’re buried fading from sight as if looking at it would blind him now. He holds you even closer, letting your words sink in. Learning to live with it, sounded much easier than it probably was. Maybe you were right though, he’d done so much wallowing and running, maybe it was time he found a way to live with the pain.

“Mistake, failure, accident… it doesn’t matter what you call it,” you continue, pulling him back to look him in the eyes, “It’ll always hurt, but that hurt is a reminder of how human you are. You don’t want to lose that. Remember it, feel it, and they’ll never really leave you.”

You swallow, taking him in with those pretty eyes of yours. It’s not perfect, but it’s what he needed to hear tonight. He presses you into a kiss, soft and light and nervous. He was afraid you’d disappear if he was too rough. You melt into it, indulging him like he hoped you would. This was the only way he knew how to show you his appreciation, words would never be enough to display how deeply he cared for you.

When he pulled away you were breathless, face flushed from lack of oxygen, and indescribably beautiful. He smiled subconsciously at you, and you returned the look with all the love and admiration in the world.

“Happy Birthday Lighter,” You say soft as the wind still tussling your hair, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” He repeats back, and he feels the ache in his chest lessen every second he spends looking at you. You taught him a lot since he met you. A lot about himself, a lot about those around him, a lot about you. Most importantly, tonight you taught him that despite his past, he made a future for himself that he should be more determined to remember to protect.

[looneyleyle]

waves ~ f. odair

synopsis: a look into the healing mind of a tortured champion

warnings: angsty, hunger-games typical trauma, some hurt and comfort, mentioned forced prostitution

words: 1916

first person pov

waves.

that was what the doctors told me to focus on. well, they told me to focus on something calming. something soothing that i could draw upon from my life before the capitol, before the games, before the trauma.

so, i thought of waves. not the big flashy ones far out on the horizon. i thought of the small ones that ripple just barely onto the sand line at night. the ones that would lightly wash over my bare feet during my nightly strolls with finnick.

finnick. another constant from my life, but not before the trauma. we were raised in the same district, but i didn't know him before the games. he would always be out in the water, spearing fish and weaving baskets, whereas i sat in the shop, drying up ocean plants and grinding up chunks of sea salt. i knew of him during his games, of course, but i never met him until i was reaped myself. it was a couple of years after him, five to be exact. my family was one of the poorer ones of the district. our shop didn't bring in much money, as most families collected and made their own herbs and spices from their time in the water. we mainly sold to the older folks who couldn't go out themselves, or when families needed something in a pinch. that was why i had my name in so many times. it was my last year of being eligible for the games, so i applied for a tesserae for each of my family members. rarely anyone else in the district applied for it, but there were a few other kids who did the same, coming from the same poorer part of the district as i did.

and so, as fate had it, i was reaped for the seventieth hunger games, and came to know the capitol's darling, finnick. he was a charming boy, everyone in panem knew that. by the time of my games, he had sprouted into quite a handsome young man, at the ripe age of 19. i was only a woman, of course i recognized it. in fact, i savored it. i knew i had no skills to win the games, i might as well drink in the sights before the end.

miraculously, i survived my games. survived was... a word you could use, i guess. the neverending trauma, the waking up in cold sweat, the sound of screams ringing in your ears never feels like "surviving", but that's what it could technically be called.

this is the part where i tell you that finnick was there to comfort and guide me through these times, except it's not. in fact, something in my games set him off so badly that he hid himself from me. during my victory tour, he locked himself up in his room, only showing his face during the speeches. instead, mags comforted me, being the wonderful woman she is. she waved off finnick's behavior with a sad glint in her kind eyes whenever i brought it up.

instead, it was me who comforted him. i was sitting in my room in the capitol, waiting for the party the following day at snow's mansion, when i heard a loud thunk outside of my door. when i opened it, i saw finnick, leaned up against the wall, in a daze. i immediately ushered him in, his body moving lethargically through the apartment. he all but fell onto the couch, eyes dragging along the surroundings until they finally honed in on me. when he locked eyes with me, his expression faltered, and his eyes began to water. i didn't know what was going on, the ever so cocky and charismatic man was in my victory tour apartment, almost sobbing.

"i won't let them take you, i won't let them." was all he was able to say. he muttered it over and over again, i started to seriously worry about my safety. who was 'they', and what did they want with me?

he later explained the predicament, how the capitol would take "desirable" victors and sell them to the highest bidder for the night. he told me about his 'friend' who had gone through it, but even as the word 'friend' left his lips, he knew that i saw right through him.

when my victory tour officially ended, i returned to district four with a new house and all the riches in panem. i offered my parents and sister to live with me, but they insisted on staying in the shop. they wouldn't take the money i got from the games either, but i managed to pay off a fair few of their bills before they could realize it each month.

so, i was the sole occupant of an overly extravagant house, no need to work, no need to fish, no need to lift a finger. my job was to sit there on the couch and rot away.

after one of his particularly long stays at the capitol, finnick and i found ourselves in a very similar situation to before: him, leaning on my door, broken, looking for some form of real human connection. i, of course, let him in, and just sat there and talked with him. he began to get antsy, pacing my living room. it was still fairly warm outside, so i decided to take him on a nice, calming, late-night walk on the beach. we let the little waves nip at our feet as we talked about small things, nothing too serious. it felt like everything in our lives were entirely too serious, and a break was much appreciated.

this became our routine. every time finnick got back from the capitol, he would show up on my doorstep, and we would take a long walk on the beach. finnick once told me that it was the only way he could get through those stays there, the thought that he would soon be walking among the waves with me.

waves.

when finnick got reaped for the quarter quell, it felt like the air was knocked out of me. it was finnick and mags, and while i stepped forward to volunteer, i was held back by one of the other victors. finnick had talked to me about it a few nights before, lying in bed with me. he made me promise that if one of us was reaped, the other wouldn't volunteer. it would do us no use if we were both in there. there was no chance of the capitol allowing two victors to make it out of the games alive again, not after the chaos that followed katniss and peeta's victory.

as soon as finnick was transported off to the capitol, i locked myself in my house. my bedsheets still smelled like him, and i bunched them up in my hands and cried into them.

i battled with myself, wondering if i should even watch the games. on one hand, i'd know for a fact if he was alive. on the other, i don't think i could bear the sights of him being maimed, mauled, or mutilated. ultimately, to keep my peace of mind, i decided against watching the games. one of the other victors watching was to inform me if he died, and nothing else. i instead spent my days weaving, something finnick taught me over the years. it was his way of focusing his mind, calming the thoughts. when i weaved, it was like he was there right behind me, arms wrapped around my torso as he whispered into my hair the directions.

i didn't know how many days into the games it was, but one day, at some late hour of the night, i heard knocking at my door. my stomach dropped. i could only assume the worst, that someone was here to tell me that finnick had died. i rushed down the stairs and swung open the door, only to be met by a mob of peacekeepers who violently dragged me out of the house and knocked me unconcious.

i don't remember much of what happened to me whilst in the capitol, and the doctors say that's good. they don't want me dwelling on whatever torture they might have put me through. but it freaked me out. according to the doctors, i was there for months. months of my life were just casually blank in my memory, and that freaked me the fuck out. this would be the point where i would start hyperventilating, and the doctors would tell me to focus on the waves.

waves.

the small waves that would hit the sand back at home. the waves of golden hair resting on my chest when i would wake up in my house in victory village. the now bronzer waves that i would see during my daily visitor hours. the lack of sunshine in thirteen really paled out finnick's appearance, though i've been told it was worse when he knew i was still in the capitol. they knew i was precious to him, they knew taking me would be the ultimate revenge towards him. as to how they knew about me and finnick, i had no clue. we weren't officially anything, though i suppose it was a bit incriminating when he moved over half of his belongings to my house a year or so after my games. after all, snow had eyes everywhere.

after a month or so in the medward of district 13, i was finally cleared to roam around on my own, provided that i came in for weekly check-ins. as soon as the words left the doctor's lips, finnick was at the door to my room, arm poised to help steady myself as we walked around. the doctors suggested that we head down to the cafeteria to get me socialized, but finnick seemed to have other plans. i didn't know my way around thirteen, but i knew that a latch in the ceiling certainly could not be the way into the cafe. instead, it took us outside. it was night out, and much colder than the nights in four ever were. finnick simply looked back at me, hand extended towards me with a question lingering in his sea green eyes. i took his hand with no hesitation, letting him pull me up and into the grass. the fresh air filled my lungs, after months of being locked up in stuffy rooms, both in the capitol and in thirteen. we walked in silence, me taking everything in, finnick's hand never leaving mine. eventually, i felt the texture of the ground beneath me change. looking down, i watched as my feet were swallowed by sand. my eyes quickly surveyed the area around us, and quickly spotted a calm pond fed by a small stream. the stream caused the slightest of ripples in the water, which just barely made it to the sand.

"it isn't anything like four, but it's the closest we have here. i would come out here almost every night while you were in the capitol, right there, hoping that i would get to take you here sometime, or better yet, to take you back to four." he told me. i looked up at him, my body aflame from his words. my heart was heavy, knowing how much he suffered while i was there, but knowing that we were here, right now, helped wash away the pain, like the waves hitting the sand.

[senpai-x-boyfriend]

helloo uhh

Tf do i say

Maybe random facts about characters idk

Actually, not a bad idea, alright then... big CBD characters info dump! Let's start this with...

· • ❝ 〔 Senpai 〕 ❞ • · 

✭ Before the events of Spirit being trapped in the Dating Sim, Senpai always repeated the same school day over and over, that is until the player decides to hop in to play, that's the only time when his school days were different.

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ Senpai used to be so confident with his looks and personality, thanks to the default comments people made to him, (these of course were coded dialogues for the NPCs to say to him!)

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ When Spirit entered Senpai's body, Senpai started to develop consciousness of the things surrounding him, and this ended up making him doubtful of his world, his friends, and even his own life.

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ CBD Senpai's hair was originally identical as the org game Sen's hair, but his hair changed due to the manifestation of Spirit being stuck in his body.

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ Sen is capable of seeing beyond the screen of the game, even if the player's TV doesn't have a camera.

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✭ He's the 2cd character in CBD to have the most outfit changes, having a total of 2 new outfits. (His regular school uniform doesn't count sense that's his default outfit from the original game/not design by me)

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ As soon as he found out (thanks to Spirit) that his world is just a videogame, he began to break the code of the game and modified to his own desire, and even understood what coding is.

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ Even if it doesn't seem like it, he still has anger issues in some ways like the original Sen, but he tries to control them as much as he can. (This will be showcase in a way during the dialogue of the new update!)

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ When Senpai was just a fully Ai character, he didn't feel hunger, pain, or need to sleep, but now he feels these from time to time as a side effect of having a human soul stuck with him.

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ He knows how to speak various languages thanks to the game giving you the options of changing the dialogue language.

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ Senpai was the first one to start developing feelings for Boyfriend, but he just thought these where just feelings of friendship, till he notices how much he wanted to be with Boyfriend not as a friend, but as his partner for how amazing and kind he was with him.

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ Sen always flirts with Boyfriend whenever Bf is feeling down or not confident of himself to cheer him up.

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ Senpai has in rare occasions flashbacks of what happened to Spirit before being stuck inside him, yet still he doesn't know what those visions are from or from whom.

· • ❝ 〔 Boyfriend 〕 ❞ • · 

✭ Boyfriend was always an "A's" student, but he almost failed his last exam due to a party he attended with other class colleagues to celebrate the end of school and his graduation, but thanks to Pico he managed to pass it sense he help him cheat.

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ Despite he's nice and a good person, whenever he needs to get away with something he would act up or try his best to be ignored from the situation, he could have set a house on fire and pretend he's scared or confused about why it happened and get away with it.

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ His favorite burgers are "Five guys" he especially loves to deep the fries with the Oreo milkshake they serve.

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ Boyfriend met Pico first during the last days of their school year, and latter both together met Girlfriend during a fair that was close to their neighborhood.

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ Even tho Boyfriend sees Girlfriend as a cool person and with interesting things surrounding her, he never developed feelings for her, he sees her more of a good friend he can count on whenever he has a struggle that someone he wants to spend their time with as more than friends.

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ He enjoys writing music during his free time, he even went to parks to play his music for fun, but sometimes people came up and give him money for his good songs.

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ Boyfriend saved Senpais game for his curiosity, sense he found the game when he went to help Girlfriend with a spring cleaning she had to do and found the game, Girlfriend told him to throw it away, but due to where he found it, the facts that the game had "caution" tape around it he got too curious as took it instead.

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ When boyfriend managed to get Senpai out of the game with the help of Girlfriend, he was the one who teach Senpai about the real world and how things where different from the game.

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ Boyfriend started to develop feelings for Senpai slowly after Sen went out in the rain to take him to the hospital sense Boyfriend had a really bad fever, he thought Senpai was just being a nice friend, but when Senpai went to check him and gave him a hug, he felt something special in the hug and how worried Senpai was for him.

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ Boyfriend is the 1st character to have the most outfit changes, having a total of 3. (The date outfit, the Gaming Night outfit, and his regular clothes)

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ Boyfriend likes to help senpai reach high stuff Sen cannot reach by climbing onto Senpai's shoulders.

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ Boyfriend is pretty aware that his date clothes look a bit childish, he was trying to go for a spring theme but he thinks he failed it, thanks to Senpai telling him they don't look childish and that he loves how pretty he looks for him with the outfit, Boyfriend is now convinced he doesn't look ridiculous at all.

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ Boyfriend was the main reason why Senpai and him decided to have children, he always thought of being a dad and having his own daughter or son.

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ Whenever Boyfriend's son, Kevin, misbehaves, he grabs any footwear he has and throws it at him, he surprisingly always manages to aim at Kevin's head with no struggle.

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ CBD Boyfriend Gaming outfit has a interesting thing about it, the boots he wears with it where stolen by him, he had lots of discount coupons of a gaming store called "Neon Hearts" to buy the shirt, the headphones, and his sleeveless jacket, sadly he didn't had enough discount coupons or money to buy the boots, sense these where 2 pair of boots of the same color, not different, but he wanted one color each, he managed to trick the cashier and ended taking the boots without paying them.

· • ❝〔Senpai and Boyfriend〕❞ • ·

✭ Senpai and Boyfriend are always saying complements to each other, especially when one of them is sad or doesn't feel confident.

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ Both of them enjoy having cuddles sessions, but Senpai is the one that asks for them constantly to Boyfriend.

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ CBD Boyfriend is afraid of lighting like the org Bf, but Senpai isn't afraid of it, so whenever there's thunderstorm with lots of lightning he goes and hugs Senpai.

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ CBD Boyfriend and CBD Senpai always give smooches to each other, but especially when they see someone who gets mad at them for just minding their business and they get pissed for them being a gay couple.

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ Senpai and Boyfriend know how to cook, but Boyfriend is the one who takes the lead when it comes to making dinner for both.

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ They both designed Kevin and Seth to have similarities to both of them, sense Kevin and Seth aren't actually humans. (Both being Ai's)

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ Boyfriend likes to pull Senpai's tie whenever he wears his school uniform just to kiss him.

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ Boyfriend owns a Nintendo Switch, while Senpai has a Nintendo lite, their favorite game to play is Splatoon 2, they don't kill each other if they are in opposite teams during turf wars.

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ Boyfriend brought a new TV for Senpai sense the one he had was really old and look "depressing" for Senpai's game.

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ They always like sleeping next to each other, so whenever they have to sleep separately for some situation on trips or other circumstance, they have pack up a blanket and their pillows so they sleep on the floor.

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ Senpai loves when he hears Boyfriend singing, he describes Boyfriend's voice as an "angel's voice."

•°❁────────•∞•✿•∞•────────❁°•

✭ They both have jobs, Senpai works in a coffee shop cleaning, and Boyfriend works as a commission artist.

That's all the facts for the moment about these 2, Pico, Girlfriend, Spirit info will be coming soon! Thanks for reading.

[bananaofswifts]

Whether she's breaking records or breaking Ticketmaster, Taylor Swift has proven time and again that she's one of the most powerful figures in modern music — and the Eras Tour is a manifestation of that.

By TAYLOR WEATHERBY

But after witnessing it in person, it's clear that Swift is not just delivering the tour of the year — it's the tour of her generation.

Sure, Beyoncé fans can't wait for her tour this summer; Harry Styles is about to embark on the final leg of his highly successful Love On Tour trek; BLACKPINK sold out stadiums around the country too. Yet, it's hard to imagine that any other tour this year will have a cultural impact as big as the Eras Tour — something that's wildly apparent whether or not you were there.

Even before Swift hit the stage for her first night at Nashville's Nissan Stadium on May 5, her influence was felt. Practically every fan of the 70,000 in attendance (a record for the venue — more on that later) was wearing some sort of reference to their favorite Swift era: a beloved lyric, or an iconic performance or music video look. While that's not necessarily a new trend in the Swiftie world, seeing all 10 of her eras represented throughout a stadium-sized crowd was equal parts meaningful and remarkable.

As someone who has been to hundreds of tours and most of Swift's — including the Reputation Tour, which I naively referred to as "the peak of her career" — I didn't think this one would feel much different than a typical stadium show. But even when Swift was just a few songs in of her impressive three-and-a-half hour set, a feeling came over me like I wasn't just watching one of music's greats — I was part of music history.

Below, here are five reasons why the Eras Tour will go down as one of the most iconic of Swift's generation.

It's Treated Like A Holiday

In the week leading up to the shows and over the weekend, Nashville was abundant with special events in Swift's honor. From Taylor-themed trivia nights to pre- and post-show dance parties to wine lists transformed into "eras," practically every place you went was commemorating her return (she last performed in Nashville in 2018).

While it's unclear whether this kind of takeover is happening in every city — after all, she does consider Nashville a hometown, as she said on stage — it's rare to see an artist have such a ripple effect by simply just coming to town.

During her May 5 show, Swift added to the excitement by sharing the highly anticipated news that Speak Now (Taylor's Version) was coming on July 7. Upon the announcement, three of Nashville's monuments — the John Seigenthaler Pedestrian Bridge, the Tennessee State Capitol and the Alliance Bernstein building downtown — were illuminated in purple, the album's color.

It's Breaking Records Left And Right

Though Swift is no stranger to breaking records, she continues to do so with the Eras Tour. After setting the all-time attendance record at Nissan Stadium on night one of her Nashville run, Swift topped herself (something has become accustomed to on the charts as well) with another attendance record on night two.

And despite the controversial ticketing frenzy the tour caused, Swift also broke a Ticketmaster record with more than 2.4 million tickets sold — the most by an artist in a single day — in the presale alone. If Swift announces an international leg of the tour, Pollstar projects that the Eras Tour could surpass $1 billion, which would add yet another first to her ever-growing list.

It's Spawned Parking Lot Parties

As if history-making attendance and record-breaking ticket sales aren't indication enough of Swift's power, the Eras Tour is so highly in-demand that fans are sitting outside of the venue to still be part of the show. Fans crowded barricades and camped out in the parking lot of Nissan Stadium, ready to watch (and sing along) Swift on the big screen — something that has seemingly been happening in every city.

It Can't Be Stopped By The Elements

Adding to the magnitude of the Eras Tour, Swift performs 45 songs across three and a half hours. And to make her last night in Nashville even more momentous, she did almost all of that in pouring rain.

Swift didn't get to take the stage until after 10 p.m. on May 7 because of storms in the area (she normally goes on around 7:50 local time), but that didn't mean she'd be shortening her set. Carrying on until after 1:30 a.m. — even through the "element of slippiness happening," as she joked — Swift made it clear that she's determined to give each show her all regardless of the weather.

It's Simply A Feel-Good Celebration

Perhaps it was the five-year gap between the last time she toured. Perhaps it was the four new albums of material. Perhaps it was the celebratory nature of the show. Whatever inspired the vibe of the Eras Tour, I've never seen Taylor Swift or her fans so alive. The passion was tangible, the energy was magnetic.

Though Swift has always been known as an artist with a very loyal following, it was still mind-blowing to hear 70,000 people belt out every word for three hours straight. There aren't many artists whose catalogs are as equally beloved as they are extensive, especially one who hasn't even seen her 34th birthday. No matter how many albums and tours are in Swift's future, the Eras Tour captures a special moment in time — and celebrates a legend in her prime.

[rayroseu]

I GOTTA LET THIS OUT OF MY FRANTIC MIND RN OR I'LL DETONATE FR

!! major spoilers for book 7 part 3 !!

i couldnt watch the entirety of the stream because it got released during my class D: ALSO BIG WARNING THAT THIS IS ALL OVER THE PLACE AKDJSK i just want to ramble💥

BUT from what i got--- ? The beginning was Idia's dream most likely and ofc, its the dream he wishes were real... where Ortho's alive-- 😭😭

I missed the following part after that but it seems Malleus was invited to the orientation AT LAST??!?!?!?!! I'm presuming that no matter what dream a person is having while asleep, Malleus is a part of it where he isn't excluded and feared???

☆

Its well known now that Book 7 will heavily imply familial messages and from what we seen with Shroud Family so far, is that they were very communicative and supportive of each other in the loving way possible.

I assumed they were strict and cold parents before but I'm glad its wrong, cuz this is such a nice twist 💕 their dynamic reminds me of disney Hera and Zeus affection on Hercules--- I wonder if theyre showcasing this as parallel of Diasomnia's??? So far in canon, most of them rarely talk about much they actually mean w each other or even being wholesome like the Shrouds were lol But still... its undeniable theyre family as wellll 🙏

Seems like the groovy nowadays are more 'wholesome'??? i wonder if theyre taking their whole message that "every villain isnt just purely a villain/evil" more strongly now-- 👀 idk if that will correlate w book 7 but i hope they (the devs) take time to finalize it since the impact of this overblot is so severe even I cant predict how they can mend this KAJSKAK

○

I really have to watch Mickey Through the looking glass, the references are killing me--

ALSO YESSS HIGH FIVE WITH MICKEYY AAAA 🥺💕💕 IM SO glad Yuu remembers what happened!!! IVE BEEN HOPING FOR THAT, that they got to have a big role for this book!!😭😭 Thank you TWST for hearing Yuu stans collective wishes--

this is actually Mickey's Dream... The date seems to be flipped and many theorized its flipped number 15, which is Silver's Birthdate-- 👀 idk what that means and why on Mickey's place?? and beside the mirror as well💥

♡

you know that GIF of Charlotte (Princess and the Frog) squealing with a newspaper??? THATS MEEEE--- AAAA SILYUUU FEAST!! SILYUU FEAST!!!! SILYUU NATION SO BLESSEDDD😭💖💖💖💖

when he says hold on tight while the surroundings crumbles down and we're about to get swallowed by ink blots, it is so!!!!! *delusional mind* SO ROMANTIC OF HIMMM 😭💖💕😭💖💕omg,,,, what a shoujo moment, we are winning everyone 👍🤲💕🤌✨🙌🙌

ALSO UNIQUE MAGIC REVEAL HOOYAAAHH🙌🙌

also his magic is so complicated 😭😭 theres A LOT of conditions to be met before it can even be used--

i wonder if thats similar to how Ortho said that for Mickey to appear in the mirror (at book part 1 where the first years are at the cafeteria) , certain conditions should be met??? I mean, Silver And yuu have some parallels already... esp the fact that Lilia says during when yuu felt unwell at the party, he stated its similar to Silvers face when hes about to fall asleep--

□

Afterwards is Sebek's dream..... we alll collectively sobbed at this part of the livestream HNGGGG sebek why would ur dream be like that-- IT HURTS SO MUCH 😭😭😭

Malleus accepting his graduation(?) from NRC with no qualms, Lilia graduating as well and leaving for Red Dragon Nation because of his internship and not his weakening magic...🥺💔💔

Sebek's reaction at Malleus overblotting was the most relatable one (fear and disbelief) over others and his dream was the mirror to what we(the fandom) wouldve wished what happened-- IM SOBBING WHY U DO THIS SEBEK AIDUHFJEUFN!!!😭😭😭💥💔

DONT EVEN. GET ME STARTED. ON HOW DOTING LILIA WAS TO SILVER..!!!! like wthhksjdj THATS SO EVIL TWST!!! THATS SO LETHAL MALLEUS OHMYGOD--- so evil to use everything silver wanted from lilia just for him to stay in this dream where::

-lilias healthy, lilia is staying w silver, lilia is caring to him, and how hes returning to briar valley to live with him forever??? BRO HOW MANY TEARS WERE SHEDDING TONIGHT HUH...--💔💔💔😭😭😭

●

MALLEUS IS SO MAD WE WOKE UP SEBEK OHMYGOODNESS 💥💥💥😭😭😭

I always love his voice, it seems his tone is so harsh and cold now when he overblotted its so sexy--- and at the same time terrifyingggg 👍🛐 Kazuki Kato, I love his performance in this, this is so haunting in the most agonizing way 😭💚💚

... NOT TSUNOTAROU GOING FULL BOARD ON THE DELUSIONAL LAND BESTIE I KNEW YOU WERE BAD BUT THIS IS ON A WHOLE NEW TIER OF BADNESS OORAUGJ😟💥💥

HIS ATTACKS ARE SO COOL AAAAAA I WAS AMAZED AND SCARED THE WHOLE TIME I CANT WAIT TO MEET HIM ON TWST EN OMGGG😩🙏🙏

■

byeee i never wrote a reaction post as long as this before KDJKAKD

theyre really dropping the obvious hints that crowley is a fae alright....⁉️⁉️👀👀

THE ALL AWAITED GENERAL VANROUGE REVEALLL!!!!!! im just.... oh... have we all PROPERLY look at him??? RIGHT NOW IM STILLLL SAVORING ALL THOSE DETAILS!!! MY GOODNESS---

i basically sped read allllll the musings twst twt and tumblr have been swooning about him and OH HE DESERVES ALL THE ADMIRATION 🙏🙏🙏ESPECIALLY HIS MAGIC AT HIS ENTRANCE!!!!!! ARE U KIDDING THAT WAS SO BEAUTIFULLL THE BATS SWAYING AND THE RED SPARKLES BEFORE HE TELEPORTED?????? SHIT I WOULDVE PASSED OUT FROM AMAZEMENT RIGHT THEN AND THERE-- BEGGING ON MY KNEES TO GET THAT ANIMATED 😩😩😩🙏🙏

AND IT ALL ENDED JUST LIKE THAT AAAIUSIAUSU!!!!! 😩😩😩 I WANT MORE BUT AAAA too much information will make me overload now akdjksd another long few more months before part 4 releases 😳😳 AND OOO I CANNOT WAITTT

=

my prediction is that theyre delving more into briar valleys history in the lens of Lilia's past.

My interpretation is that Lilia's dream related to his past is bcs he kind of whispered to himself that the reason hes leaving is because of his weakening state and how he doesnt want to wish anyone to see him like that.... I guess his wish was that he could be as strong as he was before... Really reminds me of Mulan's father 😭

IM WISHING DESPERATELY FOR MORE YUU RELATION NEXT PART AND THIS TWITTER THREAD SUMS UP ALL MY SPECULATIONS AS TO WHY YUU ISNT INVOLVED IN THE DREAMS WE HAVE SO FAR

"malleyuu divorce" is my fave phrase from op from now on lol

livestream of book 7 part 3

[cherrylng]

Green Day "iDOS!" interview [ROCKIN'ON (November 2012)]

GREEN DAY 『iDOS!』

Green Day already talked about "Dos!", the follow-up to "Uno!" Fastest interview ever!

“"Dos!" feels like a party in hell, and it gets darker and darker until the end. The last one is a love letter to the dead Amy Winehouse.”

Shortly after its release, "Uno!" is being played all over the world, and the release of the second album of the trilogy, "Dos!" is also just around the corner. Since their explosive energy live show at this year's Summer Sonic, I've been overwhelmed by Green Day's momentum that has taken over the entire second half of this year. In previous interviews, they have talked about the theme of "Dos!" with keywords such as "sex," "garage rock," and "party," but the 13 songs that I actually listened to are the most vulgar in Green Day's history, and it is an album that dares to step into territory that they have avoided. From the bold rock'n'roll "Fuck Time" that lives up to its straightforward title, to the reggae-style "Nightlife" featuring a mysterious female rapper, to "Amy" dedicated to the late singer, the unprecedented variety is surprising, but it all has a rough power to it. Of course, they don't want to act like badasses anymore. They are once again throwing themselves into pleasure and violence, with a bird's eye view that the dirty side is an integral part of life's energy. ……But then came the news that Billie Joe was hospitalised for substance abuse. I hope it is only temporary, but I am worried. I hope he gets well soon and shows us a healthy figure! (Kotaro Matsumura)

This time, "Dos!" is the second of three consecutive releases, how are you feeling so far? Billie: 「Yeah, I think everyone will listen to all three albums. Because who wouldn't want to? When you listen to "Uno!", or rather "Oh Love", you feel like you want to hear what happens next. Then, when you listen to (the first song on "Dos!") "See You Tonight" which is a little sad, it snowballs into the super rock 'n' roll "Fuck Time". From there, "Dos!" feels like a party in hell, and it just gets darker and darker until the end. The last song, "Amy", is about what happens to people in the end when life gets really dark, and that's something I've actually experienced. I mean, it's a song about Amy Winehouse, but it's about how when life goes down the wrong path, it can end in painful repercussions. But it's never about warning other people, it's more of a love letter to, how should I say it, people I wish were still alive.」

Did you interact with Amy Winehouse before she died? Billie: 「No, I've never actually met Amy. I just know her music, I'm not a big fan, but I think her music is a bridge between old soul music and now, and she definitely tried to do that. She knew first wave ska and all that stuff, and she brought it into the new era. I think in music, people like that are very rare, and her passing is a great loss that we can't get back. And I don't know when we'll see someone like that again. So the selfish part of me can't help but ask, "Why?" It was really hard, and it was hard to watch the news.」

How do you think you guys have managed to stay together as a band so far without experiencing a tragedy like Amy's? Mike: 「Yeah, what's fun is, we just celebrate rock 'n' roll. We've been doing that for a long time. We've played together for so many years really, we've been able to see the world, and we keep challenging ourselves. We've been on the top so many times and we're still intact and we're still doing this with passion. We work hard, we play hard and well, I hope we play much more than we work (laughs).」 Billie: 「Right now, I think if we could go back to the old hardcore scene — I mean the original hardcore scene that lasted about five years in the 80s that we were never a part of. I think that scene created the "do it or fuck off" attitude of the time. One of my favourite bands, Operation Ivy, put everything on their first album, but they did it because they were in a situation where they didn't know if they could make a second album at all. And they never actually made a second album. Instead, they became Rancid. So, I mean, we didn't take that stance, but I think somewhere in the back of our heads we knew we could carry on. We didn't know how we were going to do it, but, you know, somewhere in the back of our heads we knew. And now we've done not one, but eight albums, and now we've done eleven. That's if you add all three of this one.」 Tre: 「We're definitely going to include all three (laughs).」 Billie: 「That's a lot of records in a 22-year career.」 Tre: 「I'm just happy that through all the years of touring, writing, and recording, we're still great friends, we're still playing and singing better, we're still improving in bed (laughs). It's good to be able to evolve and when you look at everything we've achieved so far, it's awesome. It's like one step at a time…… Oh, that's off topic. Anyway, we're the best. That's what I mean!」

Some of the songs on this album sound country, like "Drama Queen". Billie: 「I wouldn't call that song country. It's more like—」 Tre: 「Shuffle?」 Billie: 「Yes, it's a shuffle. But I'd say it sounds more British Invasion-ish. I think it's got a bit of a Ray Davies meets Small Faces feel to it. I wrote it when I was making "21st Century Breakdown". I was doing a thing where I'd spin two roulettes and make up a song from the words on the board, and, er……」

The theme of the song, you mean? Billie: 「Yeah, themes, one is “tabloid” and the other style of music is……」 Mike: 「It was like “Emotion”.」 Billie: 「Maybe piano, I don't know, it started with piano and then it got a little silly……」 Mike: 「So it's like a very happy song, but a bit sad. My son was dancing to it the other day and he said, “Dad, I love this song, but it's sad, isn't it?” He's three years old. He's very perceptive.」

And "Nightlife" includes female rap. Who is that? Billie: 「"Nightlife" is one of those songs that a lot of people don't expect and are surprised by. I myself am still a bit surprised. When we were in Austin, Texas, we were jamming in a room trying to write a song that would be a sister version of "Kill the DJ", and we came up with the chorus and the bridge. I had a friend there who was in a band called the Mystic Knights of the Cobra, and they had a song called "Text Messaging Slut". We cut out the rap of Lady Cobra, aka Monica Painter, who is in "Text Messaging Slut", and mashed up the two songs. We played it for her and asked her, "What do you think?" and she said, "Haha, that's interesting," and just walked away. So I called her afterwards and said, "Can you come over and make something for us?" So that's how we wrote the song, and it's about something sinister or something. She ended up coming over, drank like half a case of beer, and did a great rap.」 Tre: 「She started spitting out her “knowledge”.」 Billie: 「Yeah, I mean, she belted out the rhymes in her style.」 Mike: 「When I listen to this song, I get a sense of danger. Dangerous, erotic, dirty, sexy. When you listen to it, you'll understand why we collaborated and did this.」 Tre: 「There are a lot of hip-hop songs out there where, for example, it's like a song where a famous rapper has a friend sing the hook. But this one is the opposite. We have a famous hook singer, Billie Joe, and Lady Cobra, aside from where she's from, Crockett, California, she pretty much has a lot of tattoos and is shrouded in mystery. So it's the complete opposite of what other people are doing now.」 Mike: 「Yeah, I don't know any other tattoo artists that rap that well (laughs).」 Billie: 「The album starts with a song called “Lady Cobra”, which leads into “Nightlife”, and those two songs are connected in a really cool way. It's kind of like you're on a journey with someone, which is kind of the concept of the album. But it's not like we're trying to make a concept album or a story, it's just the feeling that there's something dangerous going on.」

Towards the end of the album, it's like it just gets faster and faster. Billie: 「I think it gets weird and unruly around “Ashley”.」 Mike: 「Some people would say that's where the party gets going.」 Tre: 「Some people get too drunk (laughs).」 Billie: 「Then it's “Baby Eyes,” which is also called “Born to Kill,” which then goes to “Lady Cobra,” which then becomes “Nightlife,” which then becomes “Wow! That's Loud.” My wife came to me in this outfit and asked me, "What do you think?" The colour was too bright, so I said, "Wow, that's loud". Then I wrote it down and thought, "That's a cool title", and that's where it came from (laughs). But in the song, I was trying to create a reverberating sound in the bridge, which is similar to what you hear when you're on MDMA, so you might not get it when you're sober, but if you're high on MDMA and you hear that part and you're on a bad trip, you might feel like, oh man, I need to take a Valium! (laughs)」

Translator's Note: This interview is quite short and only last 2 pages, but not gonna lie, the pics for this interview are really aesthetically pleasing to the eyes.

Please do support me via my Ko-fi! ☕

[theartisticcrow]

This is a post about light pollution and my absolute hatred of modern architecture and outdoor lighting.

This is not going to be a short post, but I had to get this anger and frustration off of my chest. Writing is the best way I know how to do that.

I have seen a great many stars fall from the sky. Most recently when I was out in the field in front of my house, roughly a month ago, and I was wandering around, listening to Queen on my headphones, and as I looked over towards the road, I saw a star fall from the sky. I stood there for a moment, unmoving, staring up at the part of the sky where I saw that beautiful flash of light as one life ended and it felt as though mine had only recently begun, and I thought to myself how this one was different from others that I had seen. It lasted longer, about two full seconds. I continued walking, a little happy yet also a little sad. How tragic it is, what humans will do to obtain power. They oppress people, they choose the cheapest options to save money that they do not need, and rarely do they seem to think things through. They'll do anything to get the people into their grasp. They will even steal the sky from us.

How fascinated we used to be with the stars, but not anymore, because the night sky looked so much different three hundred, four hundred years ago. People used to be able to look out their windows at night and see the entire galaxy. What do we get? A few specks of light scattered throughout the sky if we're lucky? If it is not a boring, grey abyss? I should not have to drive four days into the middle of the wilderness to see the night sky as it truly is. No one should have to put up with this. I remember, when I was fourteen or thirteen, when they built a big house on the property next to where I lived, with blacked out windows, a basketball court and a swimming pool. The owners were rarely ever there, and when they were, they were terribly obnoxious with their parties and loud music, perhaps not realising how exactly sound manages to travel through that part of the island. And yet, for some reason, they felt the need to install a big floodlight which did not even shine onto their own property, but rather the field in front of my house. It shined directly into my parents window, and so often did I wish I could shoot it with an arrow. Now, my family did not own the property that we lived on. We rented a house there and in the day, the property functioned as a business. I recall the day that they installed a floodlight shining over the small parking lot. I hated it then and I still hate it now. The only reason I did not throw rocks at it until it broke was because I did not want to accidentally set fire to the building, or get evicted. Not to mention, my parents would know that it was I who knocked down the light.

But it was so frustrating, because no one is there at night except for my family and our neighbours (until the landlord kicked them out so that she could use the space as her own personal office), so why should they need a floodlight at all? And why must it stretch so far across the property? I did not live out in the middle of nowhere, as much as it used to feel like it at times. There was plenty forest and farmland surrounding the area, but beyond that was just city and suburbs. It used to feel like the only place where you didn't have to see the ugly architecture of the city, but even it caught up eventually. The house that the obnoxious neighbours built was only one example. In the distant hills, there appeared more lights than there used to be, and when I stood at the top of the hill on the property and looked out over the land, I did not used to be able to see the cranes in the distance constructing five or seven story condos. I used to not have to worry about security cameras watching me. I used to be able to wander around in darkness. I used to be able to see the stars. There were many stars at one point, scattered throughout the night sky. It was not the entire galaxy, but it was still a nice sight. I used to see the stars, and now I get little more than the big dipper constellation. Some nights, I am not sure that I can see anything at all, especially when it is a night where there are more cars passing by than usual, and you cannot even see the road when they pass, because their headlights are so unnecessarily blinding.

The night itself used to have a different colour: orange and yellowish, not horrifically bright, but now it is plagued by sterile white lights. I might like to write a complaint to whichever council, board, or committee is in charge of architecture and construction and suchlike in this city, if only I knew how. But even then, I have little belief that it would make a difference, for I would be only one voice with no one to join me. We are capable of change, I am sure of it, but if only I knew exactly how. If only I knew exactly who were the right people to talk to, how to reach them, and what to say. If only more people knew how, then maybe we could recognise that we are not alone. People don't see the point in trying, for they do not feel like putting in that sort of effort because they do not believe it will make a difference if they as an individual do not participate. But tell me, how many individuals think that? How many of you people believe that your voice does not make a difference? Alone, it might not, but when placed among thousands of others who share that same belief, it makes a huge difference! Imagine what we could achieve if we all stood up together and called for action. Imagine if people realised just how much they are actually capable of, and imagine if they actually took the steps to do that thing.

It is not impossible that I could make a revolutionary change in my country, or my community at least, if I really put my mind to it. If I gathered people together, devised some kind of plan, or used all of my writing capabilities to speak against what I believe the government is doing wrong, it's not unrealistic to say that I could make an impact. Now imagine if an entire city's worth of people did that. Do you know how much is actually possible? Do you know how much could have already happened if we didn't wait until the fate of the world was on the line? If only I knew exactly how. If only I had the resources and information. If only I was more willing to take up more responsibility and actually start trying to do something. Ah, but what might parents say if I told them I needed to be driven to the post office to send a letter addressed to the city council? I'm sure they'd be supportive, but it might be an awkward conversation, especially if they tell me it probably won't do anything. And alas, I am a coward.

Look at this entire post. Look at what I have managed to write on such short notice because I felt like it. Imagine what I could do if I were given the right opportunity. This entire post, and all because I was pissed that I could barely see the northern lights those few months ago when it was the only chance I might ever get, only to be disappointed because of that FUCKING FLOODLIGHT THAT MY BITCH OF A LANDLORD DECIDED TO INSTALL FOR NO FUCKING REASON.

[dedicatednotobsessed]

Special Birthday Surprise [Ewan Mitchell x Fem!Reader]

Other HOTD stories [requests open]

A/N: Seeing mine and Ewan’s birthday is only seven days apart, I decided to post an early birthday one shot for Ewan. Hope y’all enjoy. 💚 (it’s a few days late- it was supposed to be posted on my birthday- I apologize. 😂)

Summary: Being Ewan’s longtime girlfriend, you have rarely spent a birthday without him. With filming of the second season of House of the Dragon beginning shortly before his birthday, it was believed you would not be able to spend it together….

“Oh, he is going to be so excited!”

You smiled hearing Phia gush over your birthday present for Ewan. “I know, he called me the other night saying he wished I was here,” You said giggling.

You came in on a flight last night, everyone being in on the surprise. You had called a local bakery ahead of time to make a special cake in the shape of a green dragon.

"Mama!" Your five-year-old daughter, Charlotte- or Lottie for short- whined a bit. "I want to see daddy." She pouted.

You giggled while picking up your daughter. You remembered when you first found out you were pregnant; Ewan was so excited to be a father. He had been there with you through your good times and your bad. A part of you was scared that he was not going to take the news well at all but he was beyond happy to become a father, even if you were so young at the time.

"Well, Phia is going to take us to set," You began while rubbing her back gently. "Then we're going to surprise daddy with a giant dragon cake."

Lottie pouted but nodded. The girl may have been a spitting image of you, but she was a daddy's girl through and through.

“Tom is distracting Ewan right now,” Phia spoke up as she helped you with your bags in the rental car. “He calls it operation surprise birthday party.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at the name while you got Lottie in her booster seat. “I trust Tom being a good distraction.”

You gotten along well with all of Ewan’s costars, them especially loving Lottie. It did not matter if they were Team Black or Team Green, they absolutely loved the young girl.

“Well, let’s get Operation Surprise Birthday Party underway,” You said while getting in the passenger seat.

“Yeah!” Lottie squealed causing you and Phia to giggle.

“I believe Tom and Ewan are in the middle of filming so it shouldn’t be hard to sneak everything in,” Phia explained.

You rubbed Lottie’s back as Phia led you into the big green room. You smiled seeing the banners already up and balloons set in place.

“It looks like you guys have been busy,” You said while giggling.

“Well, Fabien was a good guard dog while we set it up,” Phia stated with a small smirk.

You laughed a bit once more. "So, they should be dropping the cake off around two," You stated while checking the time on your phone. "It should give us plenty of time to finish setting everything up."

Phia blew out a breath while nodding. "I know we still need to set up the gift table still and have a few decorations to hang up."

You looked around with a small smile. You knew he was going to love this little surprise, and even love the present that you had for him. He had never been one for presents, always enjoying the company you and your daughter brought him yet this present was a special one.

"Let's get going then!" You said while tying your hair back so it was out of your face.

❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈

“He should be here in about five minutes," Olivia called while walking into the break room.

You nodded a bit, placing your hands on your hips. The green dragon cake turned out to be perfect- even better than you expected. The present table was completely filled from costars that were there to costars that sent their presents in. You even were able to bring presents from his family. You wanted to make this day extra special.

“I feel like Tom needs a raise for being the distraction,” You said with a small giggle. You looked around and smiled at everyone that could make it. “Thank you guys for your help. It really means a lot to me.”

“We are always happy to help,” Phia said with a wide smile bringing you into a hug.

You smiled returning her hug, laughing as Lottie hugged your legs. The House of the Dragon cast was like a second family and you were glad they were able to help you make Ewan’s birthday special.

“They’re coming!” Fabien called turning to you with a wide smile.

You looked over as the door opened, Tom and Ewan in their Aegon and Aemond get up respectively. A bright smile came on your lips when Ewan’s blue eyes connected with yours.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” Ewan asked, clearly shocked.

“Did you really think you could celebrate your birthday without your girlfriend and daughter?” You teased and laughed as he hugged you tight.

“Happy birthday, daddy!” Lottie exclaimed and squealed when he picked her up.

You smiled as you watched Ewan sit at the special throne you made for him. Although his character wanted to be king and couldn’t, this was the second best option being the birthday king. You took pictures of him with Lottie in his lap, the little girl just excited to be with her daddy again.

“That’s payback for the Viserys Funko,” Tom stated seeing Ewan open the present from him which was a Daemon Targaryen Funko.

Ewan chuckled a bit as he looked at it. “Well, Daemon is my favorite character so I’ll still cherish this,” He said with a wide smile.

You tilted your head and looked down at your hands with a soft smile. “There’s one more present,” You spoke up when he opened everything.

You bit your lip gently as you handed over a pink envelope before pulling out your phone to record his reaction. Ewan slowly opened it before furrowing his brows as he pulled out the pictures. You laughed a bit seeing the tears forming in his eyes.

“We’re going to have another kid?” He asked looking up at you.

You laughed and nodded with a small smile. It was the first pictures of your second baby. You were finding a good time to tell him and the perfect way was to tell him on his birthday. You smiled wide as he stood up and kissed you suddenly on the lips as everyone cheered around you.

You smiled lightly against his lips, placing a hand on his cheek. “Happy Birthday, Ewan,” You whispered kissing him once more before hugging him tight.

{tagged readers: @lxdyred }

[roseofithaca]

Lost Little Witch

A follow up to No Longer Her. Mary tries to take care of Silver after her ordeal but she might be too far gone.

-

T'were like manoeuvring a corpse as she led her darling girl up the stairs, her lithe form leaning heavily into Mary, barely moving anything except her feet with encouragement. Praise be there not be any guests for them to filter through, but the appearance of any builders in their bright orange jackets had Silver huddling closer to Mary in fright.

She stroked the young one's hair; "Only be Livings, swee'heart. They cannots see thee, 'member?"

No word of reply to confirm whether she did remember that, or much else besides. Mary looked down to see the girl's wide eyes darting about at the floors and walls in great confusion.

"Oh! Must all seem so strange to thine eyes, little'en." Mary reassured, "Been many changes since you was last 'ere. I shall explain in time. Let's just get you settled, ey."

At least the child's eyes did seem to still be working. Perhaps they simply needed adjusting to the light after so long being shrouded. The hallways were certainly much better lit than had been in the days of Heather and then Alison.

Mary reached to find Silver's hand and squeezed it tight, leading her through the door of Higham Suite.

"Good Lord! Silver!" Captain was the first to see.

Everyone else then turned, the whole crew present save for Robin, and Humphrey and Amy who had followed them down.

"Oh my! Hello, petal! You....You all right?" Asked Pat, probably realising as he asked that the girl was anything but.

Silver merely stared back at them all. Silent.

"Silvy! You're back!" Kitty darted forward; "Oh I've missed you so much! You poor dear, you must have been ever so lonely, not to mention bored! But I know plenty of new games for us to play! And so many fun dances and songs-!"

Before Kitty could get close enough to reach her hands out and try to hug Silver, the teenager flinched back and clapped her hands over her ears, emitting a frustrated sound from her throat without opening her mouth.

The Georgian stopped and shrank back, her hands poised together.

"Oh dear. Did I say something wrong? I didn't mean to..."

"It's all right, Kitty, love. It looks like she's just in shock." Pat tried to comfort her.

Mary kept her hands on Silver's shoulders. She seemed to be the only one who the girl would allow to be close to her.

"You be all right, darling girl. Just all a bit startlin' for you, ain't it. We'll take it slow, we wills." She reassured her, then looked to the pantsless Tory standing awkwardly by the window; "Julians, can yous turn the tap on in the bath that turns the water into that nice mist for us?"

"You mean...Oh. Well I suppose the steam room is out of use for now, we can make do."

He sidled past them and into the en suite, using his powers to turn the hot tap on.

Five minutes later, he walked back out.

"All ready for you, ladies. Enjoy." He said, dusting his hands off as if it were a great feat of strength; "Let it run as long as you like, it's unplugged and I can explain the water bill to Alison."

"Much 'preciated." Mary thanked him before guiding Silver into the bathroom; "Come along, little'en."

The girl was disturbingly compliant as Mary guided her to sit in the tub, herself kneeling beside her as the steam filled the room. They couldn't feel the warmth of the water, but the air in such a state always had a calming effect, as they'd all learned to appreciate since the spa below had been built.

Silver tugged her knees up to her chest and hugged them tight, eyes staring at the water running from the tap. She rarely blinked, though when she did Mary noticed they were big, long ones. Like a cat.

Mary gently rubbed her back, "D'you remember, in the years before Al'son arrived, when the days would be ever so long and boring, we'd amuse ourselves by playin' those little games of make believe? Where we'd pretend to be fancy folk on our ways at a rich party? Or on a quest in a magical kingdom of tiny peoples?"

The teenager turned her head to meet her eyes, just for a second, before lowering them again.

"Well, how's abouts we play that again? 'Cept this time, we can pretend you been on a wondrous trip to all the corners of the world." Mary moved to sit on the edge of the tub, her hands moving to massage Silver's scalp, as if she were rubbing shampoo into her hair; "You dids have to go through many tough times but now you is home. Safe n' sound. And it be time yous be looked after. Shall we do that, darling girl?"

Still no reply. All the child did was let out a big, sad sigh and rest her chin on the folds of her arms.

Mary's ached at how quiet she was, reminded of her own muteness after her death. It had taken nearly a hundred years before Annie came along to help her find her voice again. Not to say Robin and Head Bit hadn't been kind to her in all that time, but they hadn't been able to reach her as Annie had.

Sucking in her worry for now, Mary forced her most cheery voice, humming as she pretended she were just a mother helping bathe her tired daughter, weary from her travels.

"All sounds very excitin', my love. How brave you is, facin' down thems terrible beasts." She spoke, miming rinsing the shampoo off and then smoothing in that cream the modern women now use to rid themselves of tangles, her hands sliding gently through Silver's short hair; "I know yous must have missed us all, not 'alf as much as we missed you. Took the sunshine with you when you dids depart from us, wicked girl."

She tries to tease, as they always did before, but the words make Silver flinch and lower her gaze in shame.

Mary tuts and wraps her arms around her shoulders.

"But yous is back now. And you 'membered to bring all the sun and stars with ye. Good girl." She kissed her temple and just continued to rub her shoulders as she watched the spa people often do to the folk who sleep on tables.

It took a few minutes, but she was sure Silver begun to lean back into her hands, her trembling starting to decrease.

After the 'bath', Mary doesn't take her back into Higham Suite, instead choosing to escort her up to her mostly unused room. She guides her around some of the storage boxes to the unused bed, sitting her down and keeping hold of her hand.

She began to gently fill her in on all that had happened since the day she 'disappeared'. Alison and Mike being offered to sell everything to the hotel people, initially refusing, then Mia being born and how that had changed everything.

"They still visit oft'. And she were kind to leave us a room just for us. But Is still likes to come up here when I needs peace and quiet." Mary explained, one arm around Silver as the teen rested her head on her shoulder; "Don't get much disturbance, 'cept when two of the servants want to sneak off for 'orseplay. That ain't happened in many a year though."

She could see Silver's fingers constantly relaxing and then constricting tight in her lap, digging into the holes of her tights in a pattern.

"You don' 'ave to speak till you be ready, little'en, but...If there be anythin' you wanna tell us, then-."

A pair of boots came running down the hall. Silver tensed beside Mary as a figure passed through the wall.

Robin panted, having clearly run as fast as he could from however far away someone had found him to tell him the news. He stared at Silver in disbelief.

"....Moonah Girl?"

The Pagan blinked again, showing little reaction.

Robin stepped cautiously as he approached, kneeling down to below her eye level. He flared his nostrils, as if checking his nose to be sure it was really her, without invading her space.

"Be weary, Robin. She be bit out of sorts, aren't you, love?" Mary rubbed her shoulders.

The caveman was gentle as he reached his paw forward, his wrist limp as he touched her cheek. Silver's eyes darted to his hand, then her own moved up to stroke a finger along the cuff of grey fur.

Her lips moved without sound.

"Me looked for you. Me did." Robin said, earnestly, "Many, many months I hunt, all over, and every Moonah I visit..."

Silver didn't seem to be listening. The girl was more invested in rubbing the fur and then tugging it to her face to feel it against her cheek. Robin indulged her, watching her carefully, as if studying her reactions.

It was then that Mary noticed how her darling girl seemed to be more interested in what she could feel around her. The grips on the fabric of Mary's dress, smoothing her palm across the base of the bath as she'd sat amidst the steam, and now Robin's furs.

Of course....surrounded by nothing but pitch black dirt for all these years, touch must be as much a wonder to her as what her eyes and ears behold.

"Mayhaps it best you try to sleep, darling girl. Good rest will do thee the worlds o' good." Mary encouraged, brightly.

"Uhh." Robin caught her attention and then pointed to the window.

The full moon hung bright behind a veil of thin clouds.

Mary clicked her tongue; "Oh! Ain't I a daft wench. I dids forget." She shook her head; "Stills. Maybes we just have a lie down in quiets, till you is ready to go out? How's that sound?"

Silver turned to look at Mary, leaning against her hold still. Then she looked at Robin's paw and tugged on his sleeve. Another hum rose up from her throat. Pleading, this time.

"You wants Robin to stay with us?" Asked Mary.

More humming, the slightest nod. Yes.

"'Course, me stay. Always stay for Moonah Girl." He forced a smile and moved to sit on her other side.

Mary looked at him gratefully, burying the quick rush of anger that had unfairly sprung up when he'd walked through the door. How could he not have known where she was? All the time he's been trapped here, how has he never seen anyone get lost as she had, that the thought never had occurred to him?! She knew it wasn't fair. She'd been none the wiser than he had...but she needed someone to take the blame.

"Was just filling the little'en in on all that did occur in her absence." She said, softly.

"Ooh, yes. Lots of good stories to tell. Me got plenty."

The two managed to coax the girl to settle back against the pillows, Robin and Mary laying either side, close enough for her to feel them both in a protective sandwich.

As they talked, more to fill the silence but keeping their voices soft so as not to overwhelm her, Silver kept mostly fixated on touching Robin's furs, then his beard and hair, then Mary's dress or just interlacing their hands together.

There were questions Mary wanted to ask.

How did you get trapped? What did you do to try to escape? Be anyone else down there? Did thou give up attempting to find a way out or rather were thee trapped in an endless circle of darkness?

But none of them seemed to matter as she looked at the girl. She doubted she would, or rather could, answer any of them.

-

This is by the far one of the strangest dreams she's had by far.

Usually they're always the same. She returns to the light, familiar faces are there to welcome her, cheery smiles and open arms. The house never changes. The wallpaper is still peeling, the corners full of cobwebs, windows cracked or taped over. Always people she knows. Her friends. Her newfound family. No livings except the couple who inherited the house, one of them smiling at the sight of her return, the other oblivious as always.

This one started off as it always did. She stumbled out. The plague ghosts are not always the first to greet her but that would make sense so it's hardly a shocker. And then comes Mary. Mary with her arms wide open. Mary with soft words and promises of safety and comfort.

But this time something was off. There was a new face. A girl...holding Humphrey's head in her arms, like a stuffed toy. Why would this strange girl be in her dreams? Her brain has trouble holding onto what got left behind, why is it inventing new things?

Then there was the house. So bright. So clean. So full of Life. Too many Lives. Too much noise. Too much to avoid walking into.

Everything was much too solid. Too noisy. Too close.

Get back. Get back! GET BACK!

When things get too real, she wakes. She doesn't want to wake. Wants to make the dream last as long as possible. Most times she's forced to wake up as soon as a hand reaches to hold hers. So why was it that this one continued on with all the hugs Mary was giving her?

How come she can feel in this dream? Feel more than just...the dirt. The nothing.

Silver lays in the bed, staring up at the plastered ceiling. No outdated artex pattern. Even for a junk room, it had been decorated. Mary and Robin lay either side of her, having succumbed to sleep, despite their best efforts. Despite their promises to stay awake with her. Mary's arm is around her stomach, while Robin's hand is resting near her shoulder. The teen has to keep touching it, waiting for the moment it becomes too much, for the trigger that causes her to wake. To return.

Any second now. The longer it goes on, the more painful it is. Best to get it over with.

Stop teasing her. Stop prolonging the inevitable.

Something thumps beneath the bed.

Like the beating of a heart buried deep beneath the foundations of the house.

Calling her back.

Silver sits up. She takes a look at the faces of those either side of her. This had been nice, while it lasted, but everything has to end. With any luck, she would get to repeat this dream again.

She slips off the bed and pads her way through the door. No one is awake at this late hour, she's sure, not that it should matter as none of it is real anyway. But the best way to navigate through dreams, to control them in a lucid state, is often to play into the dreams rules.

As she passes by the door to Kitty's room, with the new plaque placed across reading Higham Suite - another curious new detail - she pauses. There are voices murmuring within. She presses her ear to the door.

"What did Robin say when you told him?" Fanny asked, curiously.

"Not a word. Great ape bolted off faster than he does when seeing a squirrel." Julian replied.

"Poor thing. Can't imagine what must be going through her head." Pat sighed.

Captain cleared his throat; "I agree. The look in her eyes, same one I remember seeing on the boys who came back from the Front. Like a walking corpse. Which, I suppose we all technically are, but...For many of them there was no coming back. They were like that until their twilight years. Empty shells of human beings."

"Might have been better off leaving her there if it's what she's adapted to, can be harder adjusting to the outside." Julian mused.

"Not everything is the bloody Shawshank Redemption, Julian!" Pat scalded him.

"I'm just saying! Hope Mary and Robin know they've got their work cut out of them if they're hoping the kid will ever be normal again. Or, well, whatever you could call what she was before."

Silver moved her head away. Funny. Their conversations sounded the most familiar out of everything. Despite the harshness of their judgements, it was almost as comforting as the softness of Robin's pelts or the warm caress of Mary's hands.

They were right, however. She knew they were right. She didn't belong here.

She walks down the stairs and into the kitchen, barely recognisable from the dank old space they'd often all gathered in to annoy Alison at breakfast. All clean and modernised for catering to the public. But quiet in the middle of the night. Moonlight shone through the high window at the back. Silver didn’t dare to approach its beams.

Instead, she hunkered down to the floor and pressed her ear against it. The beating rhythm pulsed against her. Demanding her return. Now.

"Soon." She whispers, her voice barely audible from years of disuse, "Will come home soon. Promise."

The beat turns into a thump. Furious. Enraged.

Silver's hand claps over her ear as she shudders, curling up into a ball. Her next whisper is slightly louder, as she's confident no one will have reason to be wandering the kitchens at this time of night.

"Don't be mad. Please. Just one more day. Only one. Please. J-just let me say goodbye...Then I won't leave again. I promise."

[oldguy56-world]

The Winner Takes it All

Last night was Oscar night! A big night for rich people to get richer. I do not have a problem with that, but I do have some other things eating at me.

Are people really celebrities when you need someone to tell you who they are? Even after their names are given most of them are still a mystery to me. They should be referred to as performers or actors until the majority of people in all age demographics can identify who they are and what they have been in. Call it age bias but most of the younger ones all look alike to me. (And please, of you are under twenty five and are interviewed on the red. sorry champagne carpet before the ceremony DO NOT SAY how you have been working your whole life for this honor. They should have Will Smith standing by to slap you if you do).

Let's look at the winners. I may be wrong but there appears to be a criteria for this. When it comes to best movie the ones that made the most at the box office rarely win. I believe it is because those movies have already made enough money. They want you to go see the ones that didn't. The rich taking care of the less rich. When it comes to acting awards, that is a whole different enchilada. Hollywood likes diversity so that is how they vote. If you want to win you need to

a) lose a lot of weight

b) gain a lot of weight

c) kiss someone of the same sex

d) have your character addicted to something

e) be old and this could be your last chance to win one

f) be the first person with your background to be eligible. They love to say that this is the first xxxxx to win. If you are a cyclops from Patagonia with turret's and you were in a movie, clear a spot on your mantel.

g) do a nude scene especially if you are way out of shape

h) don't wear any make-up

The above is a broad view of my findings over the years. Let's talk about last night. I have some thoughts on what I saw, which I must confess does not cover the entire event. There were two interruptions. Salma Hayek came out to present something. I saw her and temporarily passed out. I like her. the second thing is anything that happened after 10 o'clock eastern time. I fell asleep so I missed all the fun. I did see the results this morning. Following up on point 'f' above it was a good night to be a Canadian. Other than that here are a few things I noticed.

What the hell do these people wear when walking the carpet or greeting the 'celebrities'? One woman was wearing see through pajama bottoms, many had bed head, and some are apparently color blind.

I was listening to one of the Oscar nominated songs and thought it was from a foreign film. I could not understand a word the singer was saying so I googled it and to my surprise the words are in English. I would say that I will never go to one of her concerts but for the life of me I have no idea who she is.

I was disappointed because no one got slapped. Where are the Three Stooges when you need them?

A lot of movies were not seen by either my wife or myself so they can't be good. We see a lot of movies.

There were a lot of sequels and remakes nominated. I do not believe they should be unless they are better than the original movie (or first in the franchise) AND that first movie won an Oscar. We need more originality. I know this will exclude John Wick 4 from next year's Oscars but I stand by my decision

All the big categories come after I am in bed. Put the Oscars on in the afternoon. It will also give the winners and losers more time to party afterward and get home at a decent time. Sleep is important.

Did I say it was a good night for Canadians? Just checking. But if we keep winning we will stop winning as it will not be unique unless we find someone from Newfoundland that can read or a person from BC who is not stoned all the time.

What is next for me? The Emmy's of course, where there will be a lot of shows nominated from streaming services I do not have so I will not know anything about the shows or actors. It will force me to get those new services. It is all a plot I tell you.

THOUGHT OF THE WEEK: I am not sure why we need to declare the best of something, although it is nice having plaques or trophies with your name on them.

[soul-our-punk]

It's been four years since she started to show signs. At first, she could keep doing her job, but the mistakes piled up within a year until the organization had to take her out of field ops. She got to work another five months as analyst, two as a paper-pusher. Her last two weeks were just grace period her superiors gave her so she could qualify for a higher pension. I'll always be grateful to them for that. It was hard when she stopped work completely. She could take care of herself around the house most of the time, and we could still reminisce about the assignments we'd been paired on. As time went on, I had to remind her of events or correct little errors in her recollection more. With the bulk of year two behind us, she couldn't retain that I was also part of the agency.

When I'd ask her how we met--a litmus for how she was doing on any given week--she now said we bumped into each other at a dignitary's party. An assignment when I was on data collection and she was serving distraction and defense. She grew frustrated the more I corrected her, the more asserted reality on her, the more I inserted myself into the narrative running in her head. She eventually stopped engaging me on the subject, nor any other topic closely related to her work at the agency. Things were quiet after that. She still showed affection for me and we could talk about other things, but covert operations were a big part of our lives before this thing started eating away at her mind. It wasn't until just recently, when I needed to retire and devote myself as a full time caretaker that I caught a glimpse of her inner-world. A half-murmured conversation with a disconnected analog telephone. Objects that I later recognized to be on the list of potential emergency weapons quickly tossed aside into drawers or closets when I passed by. I found a few pieces of jewelry, trinkets, utensils, money, or even shelf stable food in hiding places. My home computer, not secured as there was nothing sensitive there, I'd frequently find with its desktop icon rearranged. None of these things and things like them happened in the evenings. This was exclusively a nine-to-five operation. When I asked her about these things, she'd pull some classic tricks. Deflection, changing the subject, asking about what I think it could be, playing it off as nothing. It finally clicked that her mind was trying to hold on to the skills she'd honed over a full career. Everything she was doing had been banal, save for the moment I thought I lost a receipt for something I needed to return--a document she labeled 'blackmail evidence,' finally found among many other scraps in the housing of our now rarely used sewing machine. Overall, it was very heartwarming, even though I'd been written out of the role of her spy spycraft partner. She'd recast me as the dutiful husband that needed to be protected from the sinister world she dealt with on a day to day basis. What kind of monster would I be to tell her that's not true? Now I ask her to tell me about her job. She laughs and says it's above my paygrade or shrugs before explaining just how boring it is. Whatever she says, I run with it, I let her guide the narrative. Her eyes sparkle as she weaves a new world where her cover is a jet setting fashion model, a small online seller, or a secretary, or more. My favorites were her taking on a janitorial, security, or medical role of some sort, positions that lend to a lot of entendres with wetwork. She speaks the most about those and I can sometimes notice what assignments her mind is pulling on for inspiration. She asked me today, "why are you smiling so much about my dental assisting?" I chuckled and brought her in for a hug. "Because it's you. It's all you."

Your spouse (erroneously) thinks they’ve done a good job hiding the fact that they’re an assassin for hire from you. You’ve known for years now, but find just how awful they are at hiding it endearing, and don’t want to spoil it for them.

[doonarose]

Fuckity fuck. We all knew I was gonna crash hard after a couple of weeks of absolute madness and, in particular, the five days of running this big deal clusterfuck well with constant adrenaline and four hours of sleep and too much alcohol.

So the last two days I've taken afternoon naps and yesterday I only left my little solitude den to walk around the block and grab food.

And now I've of course woken up at 5am, bored out of my skull which bodes well for tomorrow's 5.30am Doctor Who.

And I cannot make up my mind what to do.

Because it's a direct eight hour drive to my parents (where dog is at so priority) but I won't do that because the drive is awful.

There's several scenic routes which take more like twelve hours, including one I've not done before because it's over the top of Australia's biggest mountain (not actually that big) but that would add more hours.

My dad's big family christmas party is tomorrow and I beholden to show up because i) I can and ii) I always do. But the logistics of who is driving who and when and how are messy and I kept threatening not to make it because I finally kind of have an excuse this year.

And also Doctor Who tomorrow morning... which might be devastating, to be honest, but last week's episode and then my five hour drive immediately after were hysterically happy and blissed out. Like i will remember those six hours fondly for decades just because of how happy I was. So watching it at my parent's house and then having to deal with them sounds awful...

But then if I don't go all the way home I have to spring money on a motel somewhere... but then I can watch DW in peace and drive quite a bit afterwards and still make the christmas party...

Fucking hell, I'm overthinking this. You should have seen my brain right after the conference. Eight of us got together at one of the airbnbs for a BBQ and I could not switch it the fuck off. Like every minor mishap I was coming up with plans and contingencies and solutions and everyone around me was looking at me like I'd grown a second head. I was so decisive and definite which I rarely am, and not loudly or in quick succession.

Anyhow, this is a spiral post. I'm grabbing my mountain of dirty clothes (almost three weeks on the road now) and checking out and getting a coffee and a hashbrown and driving to Jindabyne.

[casspurrjoybell-21]

Pirate Chains - Volume 2 - Against Tides

*Warning Adult Content*

Chapter 2 - I'm a Pirate Too - Part 1

Nyx

I stood by the side of the deck, my hand holding one of the ropes tugging the sails. I watched as the sun dove behind the horizon, where the sky and the few clouds traveling slowly were painted in a beautiful shade of red.  Another hot day tomorrow, I thought.

'We sailed south for about a month and twenty five days, then we turned slightly east. And we sailed in that direction for about three weeks already.'

I tried so hard over the days to figure out our exact destination by my own. I had a few ideas but I still felt frustrated of being uncertain.  If we continued in this direction, there were so many possibilities. And judging from the food we had left, I narrowed it down to five possible destinations and one of them was Eboa. I really wish it would be Eboa.

I've never been there before but it's a known big island, surrounded by a couple of small ones. Many merchants like to go there to trade or put their hands on rare items. In fact, my uncle is one of them. He used to visit Eboa once a year. I remember him saying that he was thinking about owning a couple of shops there, something about getting the locals to trust him and favor working with him. 

So if I looked around a bit at the port of Eboa or the market, I'm sure people would recognize his name. The hope gave me a spite of excitement and I kept praying for Eboa to be our next stop. But I could still be wrong... I have never sailed this far ever before and all my guessing's are from what I remember from maps or heard from people who got this far.

But if we were sailing to Eboa, we would have gotten there already. We're not exactly following the shortest routes, more like approaching indirectly, like in a circular way. Which is understandable for obvious reasons, Pirates. They don't exactly knock on front doors. Besides, lately the Martina crew started fishing from time to time.

The sea is not very generous in this area but they're getting enough to maybe last longer without land. I observe them, hating myself for wishing they would catch nothing. But they do and everyday I try to reevaluate the time left based on the remaining food. Now, if we were heading to Eboa we should've turned sharper to the East, like, days ago...

At this rate we're missing the island and moving further. And the ones in the following area are not exactly protected islands. People live there and everything but there are no guards to keep the order, so they're what we like to call 'The Shadows'. Full of thieves and... damn it... full of pirates. Which makes them a much better fit for the Martina than Eboa.

'So.... If we missed Eboa, I might start praying the food will keep us long enough to reach another guarded area.'

I sighed, aware of my own naivety. 

"You're praying for land so hard an island will just pop out in the middle of the ocean."

I rolled my eyes to Nash's sarcasm. Of course I made sure he didn't see that. He doesn't exactly need to be provoked. Even silence is enough fuel to warm him up for a seance of mockery.

"I'm not praying."

"Liar."

"I'm just watching the sun set, Nash."

"Oh, that's very romantic," said Lou while trying but failing at mimicking a woman's voice, after he leaned his heavy body on my shoulder...

Nash snorted.

"More like very bullshit."

"Always looking for someone to bully."

Yeagar appeared right behind Nash who stepped away instantly. Yeagar smirked at that and his brother Ajax approached from the other side, giving the impression that they were cornering Nash.

"Huh? You know him brother, he likes to play with small fish. What does that make you, Nash?"

"The one who'll fucking slit your throats, that's what it makes me."

"Ouch."

I zoned out of their ranting. It was always like that with Nash. He'd be either picking on me or menacing Yeagar and Ajax, who strangely seem to enjoy being insulted by him.  I had no intention of partying tonight. Sailing into the unknown was getting on my nerves. Don't get me wrong, I love sailing.. at first I appreciated just advancing through the waves, never reaching the horizon... but it has been months since I got on the Martina and the trip became more stressing by the day.

And the truth is... It's not the sailing that frustrates me. It's about my own fate. Where will I end up? I wanted to leave for a quieter place. I moved to part from the crazy gathering that started growing but I felt my right arm being yanked back. I looked back to see Lou's amused stare.

"Where are you going?"

'None of your damn business.' 

"Somewhere calm."

"Have you looked around lately? There's nowhere like that on this ship."

I pulled my arm trying in vain to release his grip.

"I would like to verify that myself."

"The only quiet place here is the sea. You're not thinking of suiciding again, are you?"

He said that in an amused way and I tried to defend myself.

"I never did such thing."

Seeing how he was insistent to tease my nerves, I continued in a calm confident voice.

"Would you mind releasing me?"

I was glaring at him but that was just the thing that entertains Lou the most. He leaned closer and said in a low voice.

"You want to know where we're heading, right? Want me to tell you?"

My eyes widened for a second to the idea but I instantly hid my excitement. Lou was one of the most obedient to Agenor and informing ME of our destination had somehow fallen under the cover of defying the Captain. He's just playing with me and for once I'm not falling for it.

"Save it. I already know that."

I tried my best to look calm and composed, and apparently it worked because his smirk fell and his eyes narrowed.

"Oh yeah? Who told you?"

It was my turn to smirk now and I savored the moment. I just loved these rare times when I felt like I won over their teasing. He studied me for a few seconds, then his eyebrows arched and he dared me.

"Or maybe you're just lying." 

I opened my mouth to find a smart response to that. Luckily, a thud on the edge of the deck right beside us got Lou startled. He let go of my arm and looked to his left to see Maren who just landed there.

"What'ch you're doing?"

Maren released the rope that he just used to swing and he crouched on the edge of the deck with a big smile on his face.

"Maren, please be careful..."

"FUCK windy. I've warned you not to fucking fly above my head again."

Maren rolled his eyes and I laughed a little at that. He always managed to avoid everyone's teasing even though he was the youngest AND not very strong compared to pirates like Lou or Nash. Not even Ace could intimidate him and I so admired that. I retreat. I didn't really want to spend the evening with the drunken pirates.

Lately they became a bit more aggressive about things. Maybe I'm the only one who noticed but the eagerness for the land makes them quite impatient and mean. I walked down the ladder to the hull. I strolled to the water room and drank some water, then I stepped into the hall and looked around. 

'Agenor is not here, I guess. Which means that he's in the lower hull ordering people around. Or more precisely laying back watching Ace as he ordered people around.' 

I smiled at the thought. 

'What a lazy devil.' 

I walked back to the deck and into Agenor's cabin. 

'I'll wait for him here.'

It's not like I'm allowed down the hull with them. But it's fine. I don't care if I'm not allowed to walk everywhere or know about things like our next land. The important thing is that now I'm living way better than the day I first walked on that deck. I'm much more comfortable with my work and the pirates. 

'Things can't go backwards now. Right?'