#bizarre game is fucking bizarre sometimes let me tell you

[victorluvsalice]

-->It was off to Chestnut Ridge! Specifically, it was off to the Big Sky Reach rental lot in the Galloping Gulch, because to my great surprise this neighborhood is smaller than I thought and has no community lots. O.o But that was okay, because I didn’t come to Galloping Gulch to visit a park or anything like that – instead, my goal was to find that secret swimming spot near the rainbow waterfall that I’d seen in a Petey Plays It video recently. I thus started scanning the landscape, looking for the swimming hole –

And to my delight, found it relatively near their starting point! :D So, after having everyone change into more appropriate clothing (Victor and Alice their “Selvadoradan jungle” outfits, Smiler their nonbinary shirt) – I had them all teleport down there via their special occult means and immediately make my efforts to dress them appropriately moot by sending them to swim! XD I had to stop them from just going in and then immediately getting out, mind, but once I’d gotten them all swimming around, they seemed content to stay in the water. :) Smiler almost immediately fulfilled the “Water Fun” tradition of the day (and ALSO picked up the “Outdoorsy” lifestyle in the process – wouldn’t have expected it of them, but I guess it’s kind of inevitable when you live on a farm), while Alice fulfilled it after they’d all had a nice back float. Victor, however, was having a hard time fulfilling the tradition for some reason – I tried to have him do some splashing with Alice and Smiler, but the golden confetti just refused to pop over his head. Slightly frustrated, I resolved to keep trying –

-->And then I looked at his and Alice’s needs and realized “Oh shit, these are terrible.” Notably, they both had to go to the bathroom BADLY. Fortunately, their occult statuses meant that this was easily remedied – all they had to do was swim out of the water, then Victor Transportalated himself up to the public bathrooms while Alice transformed into her werewolf form and tunneled to a slightly more private spot away from the water to “mark her territory.” XD I had Smiler keep themselves occupied poking around a frog log for frogs (surfer leaf – one they already have, sadly) while I then started looking for picnic tables for the gang to set their picnic up on…

Only to discover that I had apparently chosen THE ONLY NEIGHBORHOOD IN THIS GAME THAT HAS NO PICNIC TABLES. There were was a little campground near the public bathroom, yes, with log seats around campfires, but not a single picnic table that I could see. And as the game REQUIRES a picnic table for you to have a picnic (yeah, I know, bit annoying), I needed one so they could have their Annual SimCity Founding Picnic together! What do?

-->Why, remember that I’m on a lot that I can edit, go into Build/Buy, and grab a picnic table (after finally figuring out where they were – I thought they were in “seating” for some reason, not “tables”) to stick on the very corner of the lot for the trio to use! So that’s what I did. XD To my surprise, when I came out of Build/Buy, Victor was already on the lot when I didn’t remember sending him there. O.o Figuring that maybe he’d been glitch-teleported over there at some point, I then went to check on Alice and get her to lick herself clean and somber howl away her Fury before setting up the picnic –

Only to find her preparing to go hunting. Annoyed, I canceled the interaction, but she started jogging away instead of doing the other interactions I wanted her to do, as if she was still looking for the despawn point. Even more annoyed, I quickly laid down a save, then used shift-click to reset her to make SURE she didn’t go wandering off without my permission. (Also stopped Smiler from trying to chase her down so they could cheer about her being a werewolf again. That gets really old sometimes, I gotta admit.) In the process, I also discovered that, despite the fact that I couldn’t go inside the rental house (because we weren’t actually RENTING it, I was just using it as a drop-off point of sorts), Victor sure could – apparently what happened is that he used the sink in there to wash up after using the public toilet, then went back in to try and get some water. I stopped him and had him sit by the campfire with Smiler to chat and do some “Party Spirit” stuff while the newly-reset Alice licked herself clean and somber howled –

[toa-arania]

I found Touhou on IMDB and then it got worse.

So there's a bit of a story behind this, as there should be with any post. I have spent the past *checks clock* fifteen minutes and counting losing my goddamn mind over this.

Touhou 1-11, including 7.5 but not 9.5 or 10.5 for some reason, are all on IMDB. This is not that strange, as many video games are listed there for their writing or voice credits. What's weird is how I discovered this. I heard a voice in, of all things, a four and a half hour video about the Lego Ninjago show and how badly it fumbles its women. One of the characters sounded a bit like Azula ATLA so I checked. It was not the same VA. Then I saw this.

And then I saw this.

Now the sharp-witted amongst you may have noticed the tiny little inconsistency that

TOUHOU DOES NOT HAVE VOICE ACTING

Touhou has never had voice acting, especially not back in 2003 when PCB came out. There's also the detail that Layla Prismriver does not appear in PCB, nor does she appear in any Touhou game outside of her mention in the character profile of the Prismrivers, which firmly establishes her as very dead and thusly incapable of speech. You'll be pleased to know that it continues to get worse.

This is not the plot of PCB. What the fuck do you mean only one of these heroines intends to stop it. The cast list is also fucking bizarre.

Merlin and Lunasa are here but fuck Lyrica I guess. Alice and Youmu are not credited and REIMU ISN'T HERE EITHER. Youki Konpaku is credited. Youki Konpaku is not in this game. The goddamn Saigyou Ayakashi (which is spelt disastrously wrong here of course) is given a voice credit. THAT IS A TREE. THAT IS A TREE THAT DOES NOT TALK IN A GAME THAT DOES NOT HAVE VOICE ACTING. I AM GOING INSANE. WHERE IS REIMU.

Now obviously what I did at this point is start checking the other ones, and th8, 9, and 10 don't really have much interesting going on other than a continued and bizarre lack of Reimu in all of them. 6, 7.5, and 11 however are all bizarre for fun new reasons. Let's start with Subterranean Animism and work backwards.

I was suspicious of the lack of images so I went to check all of their pages and they're mostly men as far as I can tell. Most of them are credited in a film called Sule, Ay Need You, which a brief google has only barely convinced me is a real film that exists in the first place. It has a wikipedia article in indonesian. One of them, however (the only one with a picture) has been in eleven million different things with reasonably big parts. I have no idea what's going on here. With the player character situation there are eight characters uncredited not including Koishi, who is also nowhere to be seen (which feels strangely appropriate) and Sanae who I remembered literally as I was typing this is in th11.

Moving on to Immaterial and Missing Power:

TGHAT'S REIMU

Also I'm pretty sure Meiling wasn't in IaMP? (According to a quick google she was added in a patch but not given a story mode). Anyway the sudden appearance of Reimu is the only real interesting thing here because random cast absences are just so commonplace now. Now lastly for the weird fucking pages we have the Embodiment of Scarlet Devil and oh wow this one is something else.

Where do I even begin. Reimu is gone again. Three separate people are credited as Remilia. Actually most characters are credited twice except for Marisa and Sakuya for some reason. Sometimes they specify (voice) and sometimes they just don't. Most characters have [Character Name] and [Character Name (Voice)] which implies that one person is doing mocap or operating a puppet or something while another voices them but then there's just Rumia and Rumia. Who voices Rumia. Remilia has three fucking credits. Marisa and Sakuya get to be normal people. Reimu and Patchouli are just fucking gone. What the hell is happening.

And now it gets stranger once again because I said th1-11 earlier, not th6-11. The PC-98 games are all here too. However. Those pages are all just. Normal. ZUN is credited as the writer. There are correct plot summaries. No voices are credited. The name format is even different (Touhou [Number] [Japanese name]: [English name] instead of just Touhou [Japanese name]: [English name]). They're far too good quality. It honestly feels like whoever uploaded the PC-98 games is a different person to whoever's been doing their bizarre uploads of the windows games.

Now at this point I was looking for other interesting stuff to add - IMDB has Did You Know segments that had fun little details about the games, which seemed to be accurate. It also has a More Like This section linking to the other pages and-

...

...

Luna Nights is here too.

...

LUNA NIGHTS ALSO DOESN'T HAVE VOICE ACTING!!!!!!!!

[wrenrogue]

The first time Kenma heard Kuroo’s laugh, he thought is was the loudest most annoying thing he’d ever heard.

It was bizarre since his new neighbor had been really quiet up until then, quieter than him. So it took him by surprise when Kuroo guffawed with glee when the dirty volleyball landed in between his arms covering his sweater in muddy water, instead of bouncing off them like intended.

Kenma didn’t think much of it until Kuro only got louder with time and so did his laugh. He would laugh at everything, including when their volleyball would accidentally smack him in the face during practice.

It was annoying. Kuro was annoying. Kuro and his laugh were annoying.

And as they grew up, Kenma got to see Kuro annoying everyone else with his obnoxious donkey laugh. How he had a hard time staying quiet sometimes from finding something too funny. How he would get scolded by his grandmother for his laugh-induced coughing fits and almost throwing up on the furniture.

How Kuro had a phase where he invented himself an evil laugh and pretended to be evil around their neighborhood. How despite being “evil," when he accidentally broke his neighbor’s flower pot, he apologized profusely and took out his life savings (1000 yen) to try to buy her a new one.

And then Kuro met Bokuto.

Kuro honestly was polite, perceptive and had a high sense of self-control when he wasn’t laughing his ass off being a bastard to a poor victim. Kenma would’ve ditched him long ago if Kuro was just a high energy party animal with non-existent tact.

Somehow Bokuto loosened his self-control a bit too much though. They were loud together, had a ton of fun doing so too. But Kenma just wanted to play his games in peace and it was hard with Bokuto hey hey heying and Kuro’s taunting happening right beside him.

Kenma was truly the most miserable teenager in existence; he wondered if his misery would ever end. And then Kenma met Akaashi the year after and he thought he finally found solidarity in knowing someone else was plagued by their louder friends being idiots together.

What he found instead was Akaashi radiating the gay in massive amounts whenever he was around Bokuto that Kenma’s gaydar shattered irreparably. Kenma once told Kuro this, and like expected he turned into a hyena.

Kenma thought it wasn’t all bad when this happened, that Kenma was responsible for making Kuro laugh so loud. That he created that joy for him.

Kenma can’t really say Kuro’s laugh was always obnoxious. Because there were good things about it too. Like how Kuro’s eyes would crinkle at the edges or how Kenma was always flashed with all his pearly white teeth from that big mouth of his. Or how he’d turn red from laughing way too hard for way too long.

How Kuro, despite having a loud-as-fuck laugh, also had many other ones that were quieter, but just as effective. Like when he snickered at Kenma’s quips to other people and how he giggled at every joke Kenma told him. How sometimes his laugh was infectious and Kenma had no other choice but to laugh too.How Kuro had this particularly quiet breathy laugh that Kenma wasn’t sure how to describe, but that it was nice to hear anyway. How Kenma was many times the reason for that laugh to begin with.

The year Kuro’s gone to college, things didn't get any quieter, but the loud things weren't things Kenma liked to hear. Kuro’s laugh had always been obnoxious, but Kenma’s grown to kinda like it. If only because it belonged to Kuro.

If only Kuro was there to laugh at him for being so sappy. But he was far away and studying for tests instead of bothering him to practice a new special move near their bridge.

Kuro called Kenma that night out of the blue telling him he had the urge to bother him. “you’re not bothering me” kenma had said prompting a chuckle, something he missed hearing.

“how are you?” Kuro asked

“I…(miss you) played metal gear today”

“haven’t played that in years, let me borrow it next time I’m home”

“when will you be home?”

“aww kenma-kun misses me"

“shut up. my mom asked me earlier”

“riiiiiiight”

“i’m gonna hang up now”

Kuro cackled from the other end, and somehow kenma’s heart grew a little lighter.

Kenma joins Kuro at uni and their routine intertwines as is the nature of their friendship. But there’s a problem.

The thing about Kuro is that he was kinda objectively good-looking. Kenma wasn't dumb, he’d seen the entire student body ogling him from afar.

it’s kinda hard not to when Kuro was so tall, well built with a handsome face and even though his hair was always stupid, it looked good on him. Kenma was kinda mad at that honestly. How his childhood friend grew up into such a dreamboat with a foghorn attached. If he would’ve known sooner, he would’ve ditched him immediately.

Kenma thought this even more when his stomach wouldn't stop flipping like a pancake when Kuro started guffawing at his own corny jokes during breakfast, because since when did he find Kuro's laugh so attractive???

It gets worse. And it gets worse, and the years keep coming and they don’t stop coming. and Kuro's laugh gets more attractive and Kenma would just like to kiss him to shut him up once and for all. But he can't. All he could do was let the butterflies destroy his stomach as he stared dreamily at his best friend when he wasn't looking. He thinks he likes staring at Kuro more when he’s busy working on his things.

He was currently trying to apply to the JVA, said he wanted to make sure everything was perfect so Kuro was hunched over his laptop updating his linkedin account and kenma like a fool, watched as Kuro stuck his tongue out in concentration as he typed out his credentials, how he would randomly squint and make faces at whatever he was concentrating on, how he had a pen behind his ear despite the fact that he didn’t need to write anything down. How he was still in his pjs because he had stayed over at kenma’s house again and was too lazy to find any of his other clothes in kenma’s closet.

And kenma couldn’t handle seeing all that so he got up, only to come back to slide a plate of cut up fruit next to his best friend, because he hadn’t seen him eat anything since noon and he needed to eat.

Kuro turned to look at him, asked him “What for?” and kenma only shrugged. In response Kuro gave him a quiet breathy giggle and thanked him for the snack. kenma knows then that he’s completely head over heels fucked.

When Kuro gets the phone call that he got the job at the JVA, Kenma was there to see the glee write itself all over Kuro's face as he thanked the caller for giving him the opportunity.

He was there as Kuro joyfully celebrated his success, how he was loud, how Kenma couldn't help but celebrate too. How Kuro picked him up to twirl him around. How the excitement got to him enough that when he was back on the ground, he didn’t let Kuro go, instead bringing him down at eye-level to tell him “You did it” and kissing him on the lips.

Kenma’s not sure why he hadn’t thought of doing that sooner. He thinks Kuro’s laugh tastes sweeter than he imagined. Kenma’s not exactly sure when his own laugh got so loud. He thinks it’s probably Tetsurou’s influence.

Though he finds that he doesn’t really mind, especially when he laughs along side him as they reach more milestones together. Like when Tetsu became a staple in his streams, that they end up having a segment together. Like when Tetsurou kissed him feather light down his neck just to tickle him. Like when Tetsurou proposed to him the same day he was going to propose to him too. Like during their wedding and Tetsurou somehow got cake in his hair.

Like when they got a bigger house together and their friends helped them paint each room and lev got paint all over his face. Like when Tetsu lets their daughter give him makeovers and she makes sure his cheeks are as pink as possible. Like when their son learned to walk and immediately learned chasing their cat was a fun pastime. Like when Tetsu lets him hold him in bed while they giggle at how long it took them to get together.

Kenma remembers thinking Tetsu’s laugh was loud and stupid. He still thinks so, but he wouldn't want it any other way. Especially when he gets to experience all other laughs Tetsu has to offer, including the shy little giggle he does when kenma tells him he loves him before kissing him quiet.

[lakesbian]

aisha being bizarrely blase about alec's Shit Ass Joker Behaviors during GM is distinctly because wildbow refuses to let sophia ever be right about anything due to worm's antiblackness even if it contradicts previous depictions of sophia as being the one unfairly wronged so i don't think you can take it as an accurate indicator that she's an enabler in general. but i do think her overall characterization is consistent w/ the idea that shes like. yeah i have an ethical compass but the first tenet of my decisionmaking is that i demonstrate care for people in ways i have ascertained they would like to be cared for :) <- and then that applies even if that way is BATSHIT FUCKING UNREASONABLE or ENTIRELY fucking beyond the pale of what any normal person would expect from her. totally unprompted too. she does not believe in retributive violence and wants to apply it Zero Amount to her own life because she finds it sad and meaningless but she Will spend months torture-murdering her dead bestie's dad. because it's What She Thinks He Would've Wanted. and then afterwards she'll go "i've only committed one murder and it was a clone" because to her it's not murder if they kill themselves at the end. she will, like, get into arguments and disagree with her friends/loved ones over ethical matters but she's also still like. ok whagever lol. at the end of the day.

and this isnt really a trait unique to her all of the undersiders will usually be like Okay Whatever Lol when it comes to disagreements w/ each other that an outside party would not b so happy about bc at the end of the day they're each other's ride or die villain team against the world. they are all enabling each other. except for alec, he gets unintentionally reined in sometimes because he's just that fucked up, but they're certainly Overall enabling his worst tendencies. but i do think its funny and important to remember for aishalec interactions that shes not his moral compass despite having a far more functional one compared 2 him. she plays the favoritism game and she also doesnt care that much. alec is like i have no principles i will do anything an undersider tells me and aisha is like maybe we should put thumbtacks on accords chair during his important meeting with tattletale and alec is like youre right maybe we should do that

[rolloollor]

I'd like to hear more of your relationship with Hunchback of Notre dame, since you mentioned you wanted Frollo character since getting into game

There's not too much to tell.

As a kid, naturally, I watched a lot of Disney movies. My dad even had Disney song cassette tapes we'd listen to in his car. I watched the film as a kid and I really liked the music. I also thought Esmerelda was very pretty, her and Jasmine were my favorites as a kid. But also, something about the movie is just kind off compared to other Disney movies. It's darker and for merch and stuff it's kind of ignored in comparison to other Renaissance films.

Sometime early on in university, I couldn't tell you exactly how old I was since I read a lot of random lit for funsies, I read Notre Dame. I remember going, "Hm! Frollo's not that bad of a guy!" at first, since he loved his little brother and did try and help Quasimodo as best as he could. He was a decent guy, more human. But... you know... his tragedy in the novel is his descent into not being a cool guy. And in the novel, a lot of... bad things happen, I mean, it's so not part of Disney's image.

After I finished reading it, I was like, "Who had the fucking gall to stand up in a Disney meeting and say, "I think we should adapt The Hunchback of Notre Dame?"" What an inspiration... Can you imagine the type of person who would say that shit? I'm floored by the fact that someone would suggest it and the fact that the company went through with it. If someone had said, "Let's adapt The Brothers Karamazov" that day, would they have gone with that instead? It's similarly fucked up, so if one is okay, why not the other? The fact that the Hunchback movie exists is so baffling to me. Why? Literally why? They got away with it, but... it's so weird.

I guess that's ultimately why I wanted Frollo. His existence in the Disney canon is so bizarre. Hunchback's not full on ignored like The Black Cauldron, but it's not often in the limelight in terms of what the company does. I almost want to rub their faces in Hunchback like, "Remember what you did! You made that, you cowards!" ...That's a weird impulse to be honest.

Also, learning about the villain assistants or whatever they're called in the Japanese parks made my desire for a twst Frollo even stronger. Veil is very cute. I mildly ship her with the Hook lady... so if Hook ever gets a twst design, maybe I'll ship 'em with Rollo a bit.

[nightswithkookmin]

The patience I don't have is being tested, Jesus take the wheel

So, all that accusations just to say you disagree with my take???

Good grief- I can't read beyond your disrespect, delusions and accusations. "You shaming him cos you feel someway about his hair" Do you think may be that could have been the barrier to your communication?

Or you thought that was gonna fly over mi head?

You can't make unfounded allegations against people and expect them not to respond to it are you dumb?

Me, I see your disrespect and I raise you cusses and bruises and emotional damages. It's just the way it is.

Then you went and said I act like I know Jungkook personally- while also explaining to me how he's different on stage and off stage and how he has an IDAF attitude...

Question: are you his Aunt? Mother? Or the dude that suck his dick at night?

No? Then shut the fuck up telling me what he is or isn't. You don't know him personally EEEEEEEDA

As for name-calling please let's play that game. I BEG YOU. I'M ITCHING TO SAY A FEW WORDS.

Come at me find out just how immature I can be🥺

The disrespect aside, your opinion is totally valid and I agree with some of your takes. While I don't know Jungkook personally anyone with a functioning brain and who has been in this Fandom for a day CAN TELL he has an independent devil may care streak.

I was actually one of the few bloggers out here who pointed this out at a time where Jungkook's public persona wasn't as overtly brazen.

I pointed out years ago when he started asserting himself within the group and breaking away from the confines of the members' expectations.

You are seeing this IDAF attitude 2plus years ago, I'm seeing this all the way back to debut. He's always been this person but go on you tell me about it Jungkook's Auntie🙄 😒 😑

"Him giving a fuck about his hair has nothing to do with his shyness" it might be my lack of comprehension skills but I don't understand what you mean💀

Bottom line is, you and I were not there and we are both not him. We both can only speculate on why he's shy. And even though I don't know what your take is exactly on why you think he was shy- it's valid. You do you boo.

If you don't mind sharing it with the class- I would like to read it though 💀

I just don't know why this is such a big deal to you💀

Sometimes I wear things that are edgy and out there when I be on my boss chick shit channeling Lady Gaga until I walk into the office and every one is staring and suddenly the wind blows over my back and I wish I had more fabric covering my butt cheeks.

Jimin laughed at himself for posting his long hair

And I laughed my ass off out here and said the same thing about him making fun of himself because of his hair because he knows it breaks the gender norms and some people will judge.

And yes he got dragged for it too by some people.

I came out here and celebrated that moment as a win for us because I love when BTS do gay shit or gender bending shit so why the fuck would Jungkook wearing his hair long set me off?

Why? Because I love it so much when people conform to tradition and societal norms?

Not only are you assuming things about me you were falsely accusing me of something every one and their mother out here knows is false and when I set the record straight on you you turned around and called me a liar and told me I was backpeddling.

It's bizarre when you people do that shit. So bizarre. It's okay to be wrong you know? Especially about people you think badly off. Because we are not living in your delusions.

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 7 | Chapter 9

Chapter 8: Flambe

TW: panic attacks, unhealthy coping mechanisms, confrontations, allusion/brief mentions of grooming, light make out session, Simone & Olive suck, language, smoking, mentions of drug use (past and present), some heavy topics (mentions of suicide, near death experiences), obvious tension, slight mention of tattooing, a strip club/strippers/partial nudity, drinking, mild implied violence

The hazy outline of her face was all he could see as the world around him threatened to fade into the dark edges of black that lined his vision. Lena filled the space between his legs, sitting on the floor with him. Parts of her face would come into view, more clear and vivid than they usually were… she looked like an angel. “Can you tell me what you need?”

You, he thought as his chest tightened. It was an odd admission for him. Usually, in times like this, all he could think of was Simone and what she’d tell him he needed to do. Slow your breathing. Just push through it. Just breathe. But at that moment, all he could think of was her and how her presence alone made the tightness in his chest ease. He shook his head quickly, afraid he’d reveal too much to her if he spoke now.

“That’s okay,” she said softly, moving to settle in closer. “Let’s just focus on breathing.” She reached down and carefully took hold of his hand, pressing it to her chest. Her eyes became clear. A pair of glowing emeralds looking at him like she cared… like this wasn’t a massive waste of her time. “Can you feel my heartbeat?”

For a minute, all he could feel was the coolness of her skin, soft as silk beneath his palm. Then the steady thumping of her heart echoed through his hand, seemingly filling his chest with its power. Then, nodding, he watched her lips lift into a relieved smile. “Can you feel my breaths?” 

A flash of her head dipping below the dark waters in The Cape filled his head. He remembered how she’d nearly stopped breathing in his arms… the way her chest stuttered and her heartbeat felt bolder, wilder against his chest. His head ticked as he forced himself to focus on her now. On the steady motion of her chest falling and rising with each deep and slow breath she took. He nodded again. 

“Good,” she whispered. “Now, just try and breathe with me, okay?” She pressed her hand to the back of his, a gesture that made him feel fuzzy, uncertain of what the lifting feeling was, as she counted softly. Jake could feel his body reacting, calming to her within minutes. Usually, he would have to force it all down, push what he felt back into the confines of the cage he kept it all locked away in until he could trick himself into thinking he was fine. 

This was different. Lena squeezed his hand, her thumb stroking along the back for a second as she held his gaze, unflinching and unjudging. “You’re here. You’re safe with me.”

Safe? As though he was some scared child? Jake tore his eyes away from her, anger, embarrassment, and shame boiling inside his chest as he pulled his hand away and settled onto the floor, trying to put space between her body and his. “You can go now. I’m fine.”

“It’s okay not to be okay sometimes,” she replied as sweetly as she retook hold of his hand.

“Not for me.” He forced a chuckle from his throat, trying to clear the tightness that lingered there.

“Why not?” She asked. He almost answered her on instinct… some bizarre instinct that only grew stronger daily, threatening to have him spilling every detail of himself and his life to Lena Harrow like some stupid puppy desperate for her love. When he didn’t reply, she said, “You’re human too, Jake. And after everything that’s happened… That biker asshole punching you and my shit in Cape Cod combined with your Cape-related stuff. So understandably, you’d be feeling overwhelmed.”

“It’s so fucking stupid. All this over a dumb arcade game.” Why does this feel so easy?

Lena shook her head, that damn thumb stroking the back of his hand again, sending a wave of calm through him. “It’s not stupid. It took me years to get over that shitty fake drowning animation. I still can’t go swimming. No matter how shallow the water is, I always feel like I’m going to sink.” That’s why. Lena understood… she knew what it felt like in a way no one else had. It was scary to think of all the ways they’d suffered alike throughout their fucked up lives. “We don’t get to choose what affects us. We just have to do our best to get through it.”

She got him through it, he realized. He forced all expression from his face as he once again shoved everything to fade away. “Thank you.”

“That’s what friends are for.” She pulled back, and he had to physically refrain from moving to stop her. “I’ll give you a few minutes to yourself.”

Jake watched her go, silently cursing himself for having this public outburst… for letting her, of all people, see him like this. He waited in the bathroom for a few minutes, looking into the mirror's reflection and berating himself for being so weak and annoying. Finally, he left, not bothering to say goodbye to anyone, not bothering to pretend like they’d care if he just disappeared. Catching a cab, he went straight home. Home where he didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing him hit this low point. Home where he could open up the first beer he could get his hands on and the seven after that.

Standing in the doorway of his bathroom, his eyes glued to the tub. Echoes of distant waves filled his ears, images of him looking up from beneath the water… his mother's voice assuring him that everything would be okay. He stepped forward, drawn to the idea of filling the tub up and slipping beneath the water to force himself to face that breathlessness that still seemed to haunt him. As he shrugged off his jacket, the sound of it hitting the floor, heavier than it should have been, pulled him from his drunken fixation. 

He fell to his knees, having to steady himself against the doorframe as he bent over to pull his jacket into his lap and fish through the pockets. Then, pulling out the fluffy green frog with starry eyes and big red lips, Jake smiled. “I think I’ll call him Jake.” He chuckled at her voice, the image of her holding up the hideous little grumpy-faced frog to show him etched in his mind like it was the most important thing he’d ever seen. “He even looks like you.”

“Lena,” he whispered, rubbing his fingers over the long-limbed stuffed animal. His phone lit up beside him, Simone most likely calling or texting to nag him about not being late for his shift tomorrow. 

Goodnight, Jake. He didn’t recognize the number at first, but after a minute of thought, he smiled, sad and happy simultaneously. Jake honestly hadn’t expected her to ever use the number he’d put into her phone, but for that moment, he was glad she did.

Goodnight, Lena.After he sent the simple message, a wave of calm washed over him. He half expected her to text him again with the dozens of questions she no doubt had; Simone would have, but after a few minutes of silence, he decided she’d fallen asleep. Leaning back into the doorway, Jake held onto the little frog and closed his eyes.

*

A heavyweight dipped the side of my bed, and the smell of Irish whiskey and hair gel filled my nose. The featherlight tapping of something fuzzy to my cheek made me groan. Opening my eyes to find Patrick poorly hiding behind the stuffed frog I'd won at the arcade. "Better wake up, sleepyhead!" He sang in a Kermit the Frog voice. "Don't want to miss breakfast. It's the most important meal of the - OW!"

I pinched his arm harder, pulling the grumpy frog from his hands and shoving him off the bed with my legs. "Don't you have places to be?"

"Not really," he answered from the floor. "I got my shit done hours ago."

Turning to look at the clock, I groaned even louder. "Seven o'clock? How dare you."

Peter emerged in the doorway, leaning against it with a bowl of cereal. "Morning, sleeping beauty!"

Pulling the frog close, I rolled over, flopping the pillow over my head. "Go away and let me sleep."

"This is my room, you know."

I swung my feet over the side of Peter's bed, stepping on Patrick's back to slide through the doorway, and headed to my room. Pausing, I smiled back at them. "Now, keep the noise down so I can go back to sleep."

They chuckled as I shut my door and flopped onto my bed. I wasn't expecting to be able to fall back asleep, but getting the time to relax in my bed holding the soft grumpy frog named Jake made this small moment enough. I listened to my two brothers wreak havoc in the small kitchen, blaring Irish folk music and loudly dancing to the jaunty tune. For this one moment, life felt slow and steady. It felt like it had before our dad died. 

My brothers and I ate breakfast together an hour later, then we took turns showering in the shared bathroom and settled around the table, drinking coffee and picking at our plates as Ozzy slid through the front door and smiled. "Ah, it's so nice seeing all my little troublemakers at this table again." He kissed Peter's head and pinched Patrick's cheek before wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "How was the rest of your homecoming night?"

"Very fun," Peter said with a smile. "I do appreciate it."

"No more thank yous or I appreciate its. Welcome home, big brother." I replied.

Patrick checked his watch. "You need to be at the hospital at one, right?"

"Yeah." Sensing my nervous confusion, Peter continued quickly, "They want me to check in. You know, make sure I'm doing well at home."

"I can come with you," I offered. "I don't have to be at work till three."

"Sounds good," Peter agreed.

My phone buzzed a few times in my pocket.

I apologize for the last-minute notice. I need you to come in early tonight. You'll be working the bar. - Howard

Hey Red, it looks like it's gonna be you tonight and me. Come in early so I can go over the basics with you (Howard's orders) - Nicky.

Holy shit. I gulped down the rest of my orange juice and quickly set my dishes in the sink. "Change of plans. Looks like tonight is going to be an absolute shitstorm. Pat, can you make sure Pete gets to his appointment?"

"Sure thing, sis."

"Is everything alright?" Ozzy asked.

Sighing, I answered, "I guess I'll find out."

"Call if you need anything."

"Aye, aye, Captain Oz!" I hollered, shutting the apartment door behind me and moving down the stairs and through the gym. Dom leaned against the wall in front of the alley as I walked closer. "Dom! Got time to give me a ride to work?"

He tossed the cigarette to the side and swung his leg over his bike. "Sure thing, kid, let's go." Then, lifting the helmet, he smirked. “Newbies get the helmet.”

“I’m hardly a newbie.”

“Alright, passengers, get the helmet. Better?” He asked.

I grumbled, pulling the bulky helmet over my head and curling around Dom’s back as he wove through traffic effortlessly. Riding with Dom was always relaxing. I knew he’d get us to where we were going without issues, and listening to him bitch about every traffic inconvenience was always entertaining. Through the slight tint of the visor, I watched as the city lights streaked by, and for a quick moment, I felt like I was somewhere else. Somewhere that reeked of expensive cologne and finely polished leather. For a moment, I was in the dark car, fingers digging into my thighs to keep myself from shaking as the lights and snow flew by at a startling speed, and a cold sting bit into my neck, threatening to cut with each bump and turn.

My fingers curled into Dom’s shirt as I pressed my head to his back and breathed in the way the helmet smelled like cigarette smoke with a mild tint of Dom’s weed. I wasn’t there. I would never be there again, not with Dom around. He pulled into the alleyway and held his hand out for his helmet. “Thanks, Dom,” I said, handing it to him.

“Busy day?” He nodded to the clamoring of people that became visible when a few guys from the back opened the alley door to take the trash out. 

“Yeah, it’s looking like it’s gonna be crazy.”

“Well, call if you need anything,” he reminded. “See you at Ozzy’s later?”

“See you later. Try to stay out of jail.” Dom scoffed as he pulled the bike out of the alley and waved back at me before flying off. 

The kitchen was an absolute nightmare. Bodies of people were moving around like their lives depended on it as they frantically moved dishes around and hunted for bar mops and prepped. Scott quickly tasted every sauce, muttering more or less when he looked up at me and shook his head. “Fuckin ridiculous.”

I looked around for a minute, whistling lowly. “What the fuck is going on here today?”

“We got slammed with four last-minute VIP reservations.” He shook his head. “The kind of VIP that requires all hands on deck.”

“How the hell did that happen?”

“No fucking clue. Howard’s pissed.”

I moved out of Santos’ way as he slid past with a rack of dishes to polish. “Doesn’t Howard have all this shit written out in some book or something, so we don’t get surprised with things like this?”

“Yeah, he does,” Scott answered, tasting another sauce. “Less.” He tossed his spoon to the side and ran a rag over his head, collecting the sweat accumulated. “He says there must've been some mix-up when whoever scheduled their parties wrote it down. It’s a load of fuckin bullshit.”

“You think he did it on purpose?” I asked with furrowed brows.

“I think someone did,” Scott answered. “Doesn’t matter. We’re still fucked. You’re at the bar tonight, right?”

I nodded. “Yeah, Howard said there was a last-minute change or something.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

“Do you know exactly why we’ll need three bartenders tonight?”

“Two. Jake didn’t show up for his shift.” Oh fuck. “He’s usually pretty late, but no one’s been able to get a hold of him, not even Simone.”

“He just didn’t show?”

“Yep,” Scott nodded toward the kitchen doors. “Howard and Simone have been going at it for almost an hour now.”

Great, I cursed to myself. “Thanks, Chef.”

I hurried up the stairs and changed into my work clothes as fast as possible, throwing my hair into a messy bun before tying on the shiny black work shoes. Jake was usually late, a habit he’d been notorious for even before I arrived, but he’d never just skipped work. As I laced up my shoes, I tried not to think about what that meant… on what had happened last night after he left the arcade. Was he just too hung over, or did he do something stupid? My hands shook as I recalled all the times I’d been half-dead in alleyways after taking too many pills and how I would've died if someone hadn’t found me. I closed my eyes tightly. Jake wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t do that, not when he had no one to help him if he needed it.

Will smiled at me as he entered the locker room, changing out his suit jacket for a clean one. “I set my arm in one of the sauces.”

“I’m surprised Scott let you live,” I replied, breathing out my anxiety.

“Me too.” Will looked at me carefully for a minute before he sighed. “Are you okay? I know today’s been… hell, but you look pale.”

“I’m okay,” I assured him. “Just kind of worried that Jake didn’t even call.”

Will shrugged, doing up the button on his jacket. “I’m sure he’s fine. Jake’s like a cockroach. Nothing can get rid of him.”

I bit my cheek to avoid snapping at him for the crude analogy and nodded. “You’re right. He probably just had a long night or something. I better check in with Howard. Let him know I’m here, so he’ll relax a bit.”

“Good idea, though I’d be careful. When I passed the office a minute ago, it sounded like things were getting pretty heated between him and Simone.”

Downstairs I waved to Nicky, quietly gesturing toward Howard’s office to let him know I’d be right there to help him prep. The dark wooden door was slightly open when I turned down the hall, making every harsh word he and Simone traded even louder. “You’re not firing Jake,” Simone said sternly. “He’s-”

“He’s a liability.” Howard sighed. “First, he was making threats to people from behind the bar-”

“That was one time,” Simone cut off. “To one person who we can both agree deserved it.”

“It doesn’t matter how many times it happened or to who, Simone. The fact that it happened at all with this blatant disregard for procedure and, let’s face it, professionalism is more than enough grounds for termination.”

Simone made a soft, seething noise as she scoffed. “This is ridiculous even for you.”

I knocked on the door, cutting into their conversation. Howard smiled tensely as I entered the office. “Lena, thank you for coming in early so last minute.”

“It’s no problem,” I assured him, glancing at Simone’s tight, angry face. “I just wanted to let you know I was here, and uh, it’s probably a bad time, but… I was hoping I could reserve a table for next week, Friday, if possible?” I smiled, a gesture meant to soothe Howard's anger hopefully. “Figured I’d ask you personally, given the scheduling mishaps that have been going on.”

His gaze shifted to a book in front of him, eyes scanning along the page before he nodded and picked up a pen, writing something down. “Done.”

“Thank you,” I responded, taking a deep breath. I’d be the worst friend in the world if I just stood there and acted like Jake’s job wasn’t on the line. "And… I don't think you should fire Jake.”

"Lena-"

"You said this place was as much mine as it was yours," I pointed out, ignoring how Simone's lips tightened. "Well, it's just as much theirs as it is ours, including Jake."

"He no call-"

"No show, I know. But how many times have I done that in the past?"

Howard’s head tilted as he sighed, "That's different."

“Only because of my name. And nepotism isn’t exactly considered professional,” I pointed out.

Howard clenched his jaw as he nodded stiffly. “Nicky’s agreed to go over some things with you. I know you don’t exactly need it, but I need service to go smoothly tonight. After that, I’ll think about what course of action Jake deserves.”

“Thanks, Howard.”

Nicky smiled when he saw me and patted me on the back as I joined him behind the bar. “How bad do you think tonight’s gonna be?”

I laughed as I grabbed a knife and cut the fruit we’d need. “If Howard and Simone’s moods are any indicator, I’d say pretty fucking bad.”

He shook his head. “Well, Howard told me to show you the basics, but I think we both know you don’t need it, so if you don’t say anything, I won’t either.”

“Sounds like a good deal. Thanks, Nicky.”

Simone stormed out of Howard's office, a deep scowl on her face as she regarded me with a heated look of bitterness that made her look like my mother. Nicky’s eyebrows shot up as he mouthed ‘wow’ to me. I couldn’t have agreed more. Simone was a textbook narcissist, someone who reminded me of all the people who made my life a living hell throughout the first fifteen years. 

The way she held herself higher than everyone else with that air of superiority and the honeyed words that, more often than not, extended far beyond the surface level of things was my mother. Her inability to embrace change and stubborn insistence that her way was the only way was aunt Maddie. And then there was that which was hidden far beneath the surface. That hideous thing that I only caught in glimpses, fractions of a second, where she’d let that pretty mask of hers drop to reveal what was beneath. That was him. The cursed name still brought a foul taste to my mouth whenever I felt brave enough to speak it. 

I watched her prepare the dining room with Olive stuck to her side. They said little to one another, but I noted that Simone seemed to be the only person the new girl didn’t look nervous around. Instead, she held herself differently when she stood beside the blonde woman, higher in a way that made my gut tighten with the sensation that told me I shouldn’t trust her. 

Service began with a rush of people flooding the front door. The poor hostess did her best to smile through the chaos and overlapping voices. Howard played the guests like a finely tuned violin, using just the right amount of flattery and bribery. He was undoubtedly in his element as a manager, more so than when I first met him. Back then, he was little more than a young man bumbling around at aunt Maddie’s every request and demand. He didn't have the spine to speak to the guests like he did now and even less charisma.

Howard stood by the bar for a while, looking out at the room full of people and the line of those waiting with grim expressions. Every few minutes, I could feel the familiar weight of his eyes watching me, a sensation that wasn’t uncomfortable but still made me feel weird. Peter had commented on his habit of watching others, particularly me, back when I was younger and timider. He made it clear that he, my dad, and even Patrick weren’t fooled by Howard’s seemingly peaceful and meek demeanor. And after everything that had happened under aunt Maddie’s nose and, in turn, Howard’s, I couldn’t exactly blame him for holding a grudge.

Olive made small talk to Nicky every few minutes as she restocked the bar, but she’d said nothing to me all night. Of course, I didn’t mind that. It wasn’t like I was dying to make conversation with her, but what did get on my nerves was the way she blatantly ignored me. “Olive, we need more ice.”

I hadn’t said it in any tone that would prompt her to ignore me, but she did anyway. Her big eyes watched the dining room, full of a sparkling wonder that, to me at least, made her look like an idiot. Nicky glanced at me and then cleared his throat. “Olive, we need more ice.”

She turned and smiled at him. “Of course! I’ll be right back!”

Scoffing, I shook it off, trying to get through the hectic night without getting dragged into whatever drama she was trying to incite. I’d been helping Ozzy run things behind the bar for years, but tonight was one of the worst nights I’d ever seen behind a bartop. Every seat at the bar was packed, which wasn’t too odd. What made it terrible was that every free inch of space around the bar was also full. Bodies stood smushed together, ordering drinks in frustrated tones and with holier-than-thou looks. Rich people suck, I reminded myself after every fake smile and over-exaggeratedly made drink. They’d put a dollar in the tip jar, and I’d want to pull all my hair out. And they’re terrible tippers.

“Olive,” I called out. “The bar needs more Opus.” The brown-haired girl didn’t pause as she walked past the bar entirely and back into the kitchen. I turned to Nicky with wide eyes that conveyed my frustration well. “Guess I’m getting it.”

He shook his head, refocusing on his drink. “Don’t sweat it. I’ve got the bar covered, Red.”

I felt somewhat relieved by the coolness of the wine cellar and the momentary freedom of fake smiles and shitty people. Scanning the shelves, I didn’t hear her steps until she cleared her throat and smiled thinly at me. “Simone,” I addressed in a bland voice. “Something I can help you with?”

“Where’s Jake?” She asked, her voice not even attempting to sound sweet or friendly anymore.

“I don’t know,” I answered. 

Her red lips pursed as she let out a breath. “He was with you last night, wasn’t he?”

I nodded. “For a while, yeah. He left before everyone else. That was the last I saw of him.”

“You’re lying.”

“I don’t know what you want from me, Simone. I don’t know where he is.” Shrugging my shoulders, I returned my gaze to the racks of wine. “If anything, I would have figured you’d know.”

Simone made a sound that resembled a hissing snake as she spat the words out, "I knew I was right about you. Selfish, manipulative, and dangerous."

That was enough. Fuck this. "Projecting your own shortcomings onto me isn't going to help you." Cold rage seethed from her as she straightened her back. "Just because you're feeling bitter and abandoned doesn't mean it has anything to do with me."

"Oh, but it has everything to do with you. Jake was perfectly happy before you showed up."

"Ahh, yes, because spending every night drowning out mountains of trauma with alcohol and drugs and casual sex is what all happy people do."

Her lips thinned into a tight line as she laughed. "You think you know him? You don't. I know him. I am the only one that knows him." Shaking her head, she looked me up and down. "He doesn’t care about you.” My teeth ground together as she smiled. “You aren't the first new girl Jake has gotten himself caught up in, and you certainly won't be the last. He'll get what he wants and be done with you just like all the others." She raised her hand to her chest. "I am the only person Jake would never leave."

I raised a brow, unbothered and unphased by her long-winded but ultimately meaningless words. This was a tantrum, nothing more. "I see," I started. "I wonder which one burns you most. The fact that he's giving me more attention than you or the fact that I didn't have to manipulate him when he was a child to get it."

There it was. The chip in her perfect porcelain mask shattered everything in the blink of an eye. Simone's face dropped into a dead stare, filled with every lie she told him and every excuse she made to justify what she'd done. The dead stare I’d seen before in someone else's eyes. "You don't know a goddamn thing about Jake and I. You don't know what he's been through, what I've had to sacrifice-"

"And what about him?" I demanded angrily. "What did Jake have to sacrifice to appease you? What price did you force him to pay for your so-called love?"

Her smile was deadly. Teeth bared and poison dripping from her ruby lips as she spoke her following words carefully, "You don't know anything about love, you ungrateful disappointment."

I took a step closer, the old anger I’d usually kept held back by thick restraints … a fragile thread now held that rage back. "You're the one that doesn't know anything about love. A monster like you could never even fucking imagine what it's like to actually care… To actually love someone other than yourself." I smiled one void of all joy and filled only with a promise. A promise not just on Jake’s behalf but on my own… one my monster wouldn’t ever hear. "You've read my file, but do not make the mistake of thinking you know me. All of that is surface level. Every fucked up thing you’ve read about in Howard's stupid little papers is nothing compared to the shit that’s not there. You don't know the lengths I'll go to to protect the ones I care about."

Simone laughed, baring her teeth slightly. "Is that a threat?"

"Threat, promise, it's all the same to predators like you." I grabbed the bottle of Opus off the rack next to her. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a bar to tend to."

All the way up the stairs, I could feel Simone’s hatred grow. There was no going back now, not that I’d ever want to. But, at least I could take some comfort in knowing I wouldn’t have to deal with the awkward small talk and fake requests of friendship anymore. I set the Opus next to Nicky and practically shoved my way past Olive. “I could have gotten that,” she said snarkily.

“Oh fuck off!” I shouted in the lowest tone I could, quickly shaking off the anger and returning to kissing the asses of the increasingly drunk patrons surrounding the bar.

When things finally began to slow, Nicky and I started closing down the bar, bidding our rich parasites guests farewell. I returned to the kitchen with a few plates and kindly handed them to Santos. "Crazy night, huh?"

"Yeah," I agreed, looking around at the drained faces in the kitchen. Even Isaac looked tired.

"Last desert, and then we're done!" Scott announced, reading off the final ticket and leading each area that wasn't needed in closing down for the night.

The light aroma of sweet peaches and fresh berries filled the air as they braised in the pan. Scott reached over and added a decent amount of rich amber liquor over the top of them, and the pan was set ablaze. A classic flambe. Rich, sweet, tart, everything that made a simple slice of plain cake taste heavenly.

Closing was one filled with tempered silence. Everyone was still on edge and thoroughly done with every minuscule amount of drama the night had been orchestrated with. Howard said nothing, and as soon as the dining room cleared of guests and the kitchen was shut down for the night, he walked into his office and closed the door. Simone left without a word to anyone, and with her gone, everyone else seemed to breathe a breath of fresh air. The locker room was packed with employees who all gossiped about the awful night.

Heather shook her head as she threw her shirt on. “Jake had the right idea skipping out tonight.”

Ari scoffed. “An idea that cost him his job.”

“Howard won’t fire him,” Heather argued. “Simone would raise hell if he even tried.”

“I don’t know,” Will interjected. “Did you see Howard tonight? I’ve never seen him that angry.”

I tried to drown them out, trying not to focus on anything that would potentially drag me down into the twisted thoughts that made me worry about Jake. Then, in the corner of my eye, I saw Ari handing out little pills. Sasha held out his hand, and she paused. “Thought you were done with these.”

The man rolled his eyes and plucked the pill out of her fingers with a bitter phrase in Russian. Everyone filed out, heading down to the bar to drown the night out in booze, everyone but Sasha. He sat on the old couch, holding the little pink pill between his fingers with a contemplating look.

“Want some company?” I asked, leaning against my locker. 

He sighed and patted the seat next to him. “It’s a generous offer, little Tiger. But I don’t know if it’ll help now.”

It wasn’t the best idea, but it could help. I moved to Jake’s locker and opened it, pulling out his extra stash of cigarettes. “Wanna share one?”

Sasha smiled. “Of course.”

He lit the cigarette, taking a deep breath of the smoke as he set the pill down on the uneven coffee table in front of him. “You okay?”

“No,” he admitted. “But I have to be.”

“You don’t have to be right now,” I answered. “For the duration of this cigarette, I give you permission not to be okay.”

"I am homesick." He shook his head. "It feels like everyone I love there is sick or dying or being carted off to prison, and I…" He wiped away his tears. "I cannot go home."

"I'm sorry, Sasha." I sighed. "When my dad died, I felt like life was going to explode. I still feel that way sometimes. I know it can never compare to what you're going through, but I'm here whenever you need someone to not be okay with."

He chuckled and nodded to the pill. "So, what was it that got you into the filthy habit?"

"Well, I started with Adderall to try and achieve my mother's impossible standards." 

Sasha nodded, breathing out the smoke and handing me the cigarette. "And then? How'd you go from the little babies to the big boys?"

I took a long drag, closing my eyes for a moment, trying to focus on the burn of the smoke in my lungs. "Oh, come on, baby girl, you know you want to try it." Then, with a shaky exhale, I shook my head, staring at the embers sparking in the burning edge with a tiny hope that the smoke would help keep the bitter taste out of my mouth as I answered, "His name was Tony."

"Ahh, I should have guessed it was a boy." Sasha breathed, wiggling his fingers for the cigarette again. "Was it love at first sight?"

My jaw clenched, and a wave of disgust and shame hit me in the chest. "Not for me."

The Russian tilted his head, taking in my stiffness. With a soft noise, he carefully stroked my cheek. "Well, if I know one thing from our time together, it is this; he did not deserve you, Tiger Bitch."

"Thank you," I whispered. "So, are you gonna take it?"

"No," he sighed, looking at the little pill. "I don't need it anymore." He flicked it into the sink and took hold of my hand, pressing a smokey kiss to my knuckles. "Thank you, my tiger."

"Thank you, my little Russian prince," I responded.

"So, tell me what happened between you and blondie."

"God, you guys are the worst gossip."

He shrugged. “You don’t have to say anything. I’ll make up a story I think is fun.”

I laughed, the tension slowly easing out of my shoulders. “I don’t know which is worse.”

“My version,” he replied with a wicked grin. “Obviously.”

“You guys want to come to the bar tonight?” I asked, standing up and smiling down at him. “Ozzy’s pulling out the big gun tonight.”

“What is the big gun?”

“Karaoke machine.”

Sasha’s face gleamed as he jumped off the couch laughing. “You save us seats! I will rally the people!”

*

Jake downed the shot like his life depended on it, and the irrational part of him that the alcohol seemed to make louder argued that it did rely on it. After waking up on the bathroom floor and having another panic attack, clutching onto some stupid frog, he’d started drinking again. Once he ran out of beer at home and received more messages and calls from Simone, all pissed off and saying she’d had enough of his shit, he migrated to Home Bar, where he sat in front of the busty bartender and drank everything she put in front of him. Vivian smiled as she set down another drink. “Take it easy, tiger.”

He chuckled, giving her a nice view of his flirtatious smile, the one he’d used to sleep with her the first time, while he admired the way her boobs spilled out of her corset top. Tiger. The word rolled around in his head, conjuring up the image of Lena’s tattoo and bringing a genuine smile to his face. He swallowed the second shot, shaking his head as if the alcohol swishing around in his mouth would clear away the fond thoughts of the redheaded woman. 

Someone gently tapped on his shoulder, drawing his blurry vision to the side where Tess stood. Jake blinked a few times, the image slowly becoming clearer and clearer until Olive’s stupid smile and big eyes looked at him with glee. “Hey,” she said. “I didn’t think I’d see you here tonight.”

“Well, here I am,” he replied, stretching his arms out with a tight grin.

“Everyone seemed to miss you at work today,” she continued. 

He scoffed. “Yeah, right. You want me to fuck you, Olive?”

She looked taken aback for a second, her innocent little brain reeling at his forwardness. “I-I…” she stammered before taking a minute to regain her composure. She nodded. “Yeah… I do…”

Jake stood up, using the bar to steady himself as he grabbed her hand and pushed through the crowd toward the back booth. He sat down, adjusting himself in the poorly cushioned seat and looking at her. “Well, come on then.”

For a minute, he thought that would be the end of it. She certainly looked like she was going to turn tail and run, but for once since he’d met her, she’d surprised him. Olive straddled his lap and nervously looked down at him. “You don’t-”

“Just don’t talk,” he bit out, pulling her head down with one of his hands and messily pressing his lips to hers.

As he kissed her, Jake found himself thinking about Tess… the way she looked and even the way she sounded as she responded to his kiss and touch was too much like her. Tess had been one of the few people he didn’t plan on sleeping with when he’d rejected her the first time. That should have been the end of it, but then he’d gotten a call from Simone. Beneath Olive’s hand on his cheek, his jaw clenched. Simone had not so subtly told him to sleep with her. “She just needs to get it out of her system,” she’d said. “And maybe you need to get it out of yours.” 

Jake approached the back waiter the next night, took her out to some shitty diner, and took her home. What was surprising was how much he enjoyed it. Tess was sweet and soft and everything he thought he wanted when he actually let himself imagine a future outside of 22West… and outside of Simone. He’d taken it more seriously than Simone had anticipated, which sent her into a spiral of worry. With Etienne and his bullshit, as well as Tess’ behavior toward her behind his back, Simone had turned to drinking all the time, even at work, something she still occasionally did but had improved since Tess’ departure.

That unsettled feeling began to drown out the buzz of the alcohol as Olive’s hands ran down his chest. The realization came a moment later. When he’d brought up the similarities to Tess, Simone's tone yesterday was the same one she’d had when she told him to sleep with her. That was what he’d seen and felt when she’d spoken to him at the bar. Simone wanted him to sleep with Olive… but why?

He pulled back and sucked in a deep breath of air as Olive’s dainty hands began undoing his belt. Jake tried to forget about Simone and everything else… tried to give in and let this happen. Maybe he did need this? Maybe that’s what Simone had been trying to tell him. His fingers ran through her hair, and his heart dropped. Brown, not red. Jake looked down at her round brown eyes as Olive tried to kiss him again. He grabbed her arms and not so nicely shoved her off of him into the booth before he stood, grabbed his cigarettes, and headed toward the door.

Olive yelled after him, but Jake's mind was made up. He didn't want brown hair between his fingers. He wanted red. He didn't want cold, pale, or dark eyes looking up at him, pupils blown wide with lust… He wanted that vibrant green that filled with every emotion she felt at any given moment. Jake didn't want to listen to Simone. He didn't want Tess or Olive. Jake wanted Lena.

*

Karaoke night at Ozzy’s was exactly what everyone needed after the night of god-awful service. Sasha and Ari commanded the stage as they belted out the words to some popular song and danced around on the stage. Quinn cheered Ari on at the front of the stage, looking up at her with a big smile, not-so-subtle kisses, and winks. Prue and Will bobbed along with the terrible rendition of the song, making plans to go see a movie. He blushed whenever she complimented his sign language. Everyone else was scattered around, standing at the bar for drinks or mingling in the crowd of people all here to have a good time.

I sat down in our booth and watched the front door, hopefully expecting Jake to come strolling in with his stupid hat and stupid face and stupid everything. But the longer I watched, the more obvious it became that he wasn’t coming, and that only made me feel more nervous about how I hadn’t heard from him since last night. Then, finally, Sasha and Ari finished their song and were met with boisterous cheers from the crowd. They hurried over to our table and sat down, chugging the glasses of water Ozzy had brought.

“Are you going to participate in the fun, Tiger Bitch?” Sasha asked with an arched brow.

“No,” I answered.

Quinn pulled herself away from Ari’s lips to boo at me. “Come on. You’re so good at it, though!”

Will leaned his head on top of Prue’s and smiled. “You a performer?”

“No.”

Quinn rolled her eyes and pulled Ari’s lips back to hers. Prue shook her head a little, pulling back to talk to Will. “She’s just being modest.”

"You should go on," he encouraged. "I'm sure Sasha would join you!"

Sasha grinned. "I would if our tiger is content to play second fiddle!"

Heather laughed. "I think you'd be second fiddle in that match-up."

"I am always the star," Sasah replied, giving Heather a look. "Russians don't play second fiddle."

As I watched my newly grown group of friends argue over who was born for stardom, I couldn't help but focus on how my oldest friends quickly lost themselves in their newfound love. I couldn't help but feel that little green monster bite me again. I wanted that. I wanted the sweet puppy love that Prue and Will had and the passionate one Quinn and Ari shared. It had been years since I'd felt the softness of romantic love. Sex had been fine, but it wasn't the same. It wasn't what they had. Dom tapped my shoulder, pulling my attention back from the short pity party, and leaned down. “Hey, one of my boys just told me your guy was outside making a scene.”

“Jake?” I asked a dumb sense of relief washing over me.

He nodded. “I figured I’d let you handle it rather than me or my boys. You know, spare the kid a black eye.”

“Thanks, Dom,” I said, standing up and quickly approaching the front door. The bikers were crowded around two people facing each other, one of them being Jake. He was clearly not himself as he egged on the biker, trying to get him to fight him by the look of it. Finally, the biker stepped out of the way of Jake’s sluggish hit, and he fell to the ground, laughing. 

“This guy’s fucking nuts,” one of them said as I pushed through the crowd.

"Hey, tough guy," I said, kneeling to get a better look at him.

Jake smiled widely, his hand reaching out to run up my arms. "Lena," he breathed out. "I was lookin’ for you."

"I heard," I said, pressing a hand to his face. He was hot, leaning into my chilled touch with a content sigh.

"You're so soft."

Looking up at the bikers, I waved off their concern. "I've got him. Thank you, guys." I grabbed Jake's arm and carefully started pulling him to his feet. "Let's take a quick walk."

He walked as much as he could but leaned heavily on me as we headed toward The Ring. The abrasive smell of booze, cocaine, and throw-up burnt my nose. “I threw up on my shirt,” he mumbled.

“I see that,” I answered, struggling with the door. “Are you feeling a little better, though?”

“Yeah,” he said, curling a finger around my hair. “You’re here.”

Patrick’s eyebrows shot up as I pulled him into the building. “A little help?”

He wrapped Jake’s arm around his shoulders and took most of the weight. “Taking him upstairs?”

“Yeah, he’s pretty out of it.”

“Pete’s gonna love this.”

The stairs leading to the apartment were the hardest part as Jake seemingly decided he was done with our walk and stopped moving his feet. Patrick had to grab hold of him and hoist him up each step, nearly falling through the door as I opened it. Peter sat at the table, sipping a mug of tea or something hot with a book in his free hand as we clamored around each other and Jake. 

Patrick hit his knee on the side of the doorframe and abruptly dropped his hold of Jake, sending the half-coherent man falling forward into my chest. Jake rubbed his cheek against my skin and hummed, perfectly content. Peter slowly set his cup down and leaned back in his chair. “How was Ozzy’s?”

“Good,” Patrick answered after letting loose a slew of curse words. “Picked up a friend.”

“I see that.”

“Can we not do this right now?” I huffed out, slowly tilting back beneath Jake’s weight. “He’s about to take me down.”

Peter smirked. “I think he’d enjoy that.”

“Peter!”

Between the three of us, we managed to drag Jake to my room and flop him down on my bed, where he curled his face into a pillow and breathed in deeply, mumbling something about cherries. I sucked in a breath of air. “I’ll go get the extra blankets,” Peter offered.

“I’ve got the upchuck bowl,” Patrick followed.

I carefully helped Jake lean forward to slip his jacket off and take hold of the bottom of his shirt. “Hey, I’m gonna take your shirt off, okay?”

He smirked. “You can do whatever you want to me, princess.”

“Okay…” I slid his shirt up, carefully avoiding the splotches of throw-up that would no doubt stain the material. Jake sucked in a deep breath every time my skin brushed against his. His hands slid down to my hips, holding me against him as his eyes trailed down my face before I moved the shirt over his head. “There. Now let’s get your shoes off.”

He reluctantly let go of my hips so I could turn around and try tugging the shoes off his heavy feet. His fingers ran through my hair. "Mmm, red…" he mumbled. "That's better." I giggled, tugging off his shoes, pausing slightly when his fingers trailed down, lazily dragging along the curve of my tattoo. I turned my head, and he looked up at me, moving his fingers to my cheek. "You're beautiful."

“And you’re really, really out of it,” I said, desperately trying to ignore how his words… his soft eyes made my heart flutter. Jake smiled, soft and full of admiration, ultimately forcing me to clear my throat and stand up. “I’ll have the guys toss this in the wash.”

My brothers were already by the door, holding two thick blankets and a giant bowl our family used when someone got sick. They shoved the things into my arms and peeked into my room. "Are you okay with this?" Peter asked softly. "Patrick, or I can take care of him."

"I've got it, Pete," I assured him with a smile.

Patrick ruffled my hair. "We're one holler away if you need us, little sister."

I tossed the blankets in my armchair by the door and set the bowl on top of them, combing my hair down and lovingly flipping them off before turning and closing the door. My bed was empty. "Jake?" The bathroom door creaked slightly, and a light commotion echoed in the bathroom. I carefully pushed it open to find Jake lying shirtless in the bathtub. His eyes screwed shut as he tried to steady his breathing. "Jake?"

"I just need a minute," he said breathlessly. Then, frustrated and embarrassed, his face tightened.

"That's okay," I said slowly, standing next to the tub. "There any room for one more?"

Jake looked up at me for a minute before silently sitting up and making space for me to climb into the tub with him. It was tight and uncomfortable, but I could tell that having me close helped him relax. "This is fucking ridiculous."

"Yeah, I've always said they need to make bathtubs bigger."

He chuckled. "Not that." Gesturing to himself, he scoffed. "Me. I'm… I'm being fucking stupid."

"No, you aren't," I assured him, resting my chin on my knees. "If it works, it's not stupid."

I thought he was going to laugh again, but instead, he made a strange noise. "You know, I used to lay in the bathtub at Simone's parent's house and hold my breath until I felt like I was going to pass out." The confession was quiet but focused. His tense posture didn't shift as he continued, "I wanted to feel what she did… Wanted to know if my mom suffered when she drowned." He shook his head as if he was trying to keep certain memories from taking root. "When I was a bit older, I added water - almost accidentally drowned myself before Simone found me. She was livid. Dragged me out of the bath and screamed at me for being selfish and stupid. And that was when she told me the truth." He took deep breaths as his face twisted into an expression of anger and guilt. "It wasn't an accident. My mom… She walked into the water, and she chose to die."

I forced myself to stay calm, though the new information made my own guilt about Jake's involvement with my trauma rage inside me. This isn't about me. This is about him. I reminded myself. I wouldn't force my guilt on him, not when it wasn't his fault I felt that way, not when he needed me at this moment. "I'm sorry, Jake. That… That doesn't sound like it was easy."

His eyes met mine as a tear escaped his tight hold. "What did I do? What did I do to make her do that?" Oh, Jake… He shook his head, laughing quietly. "I know I'm an insufferable asshole… I know I'm annoying, selfish, and manipulative… But I just…." All I could hear was Simone. This was her voice in his head, her voice telling him it was his fault, that he was the problem.

"Listen to me," I instructed softly as I moved in the small tub, practically laying on top of him as I took hold of his face. "It wasn't your fault. None of it." He started to shake his head again, but I held firm. "You are not annoying or selfish or manipulative. You are a human being… One that is an asshole sometimes, but you just so happen to be one of the nicest assholes I've ever met."

"You don't really think that," he insisted.

"I told you about my mom," I countered. "I told you about my very impressive criminal record. If I wanted to lie to you, Jake, I would've done it by now."

He closed his eyes, leaning into my hands for a minute before quietly asking, "Why is it so easy with you?"

"Must be my unparalleled charisma."

Jake laughed, bright blue eyes staring up at me, free of his usual restrictions. I could see everything he felt and realized why he always forced himself to look so grumpy. Those blue eyes studied my face before moving to my hair as he lifted a hand to run his fingers through it. "I never thought I'd get this attached to you." He shook his head. "You were supposed to be easy… A quick fling to make me feel better."

I refrained from laughing. "Do I not make you feel better?"

"You do," he admitted. "You make me feel like myself."

"That's a good thing, isn't it?"

Another tear rolled down his cheek. "It's been a long time since I've been me."

I brushed it away with my thumbs and smiled. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I really like you. The real you.”

With a smile, he nodded. “I really like you too.”

“Come on,” I gestured toward my room. “Let’s get you back in bed so you can sleep this off and wake up to that hangover.” With some help, he was back on his feet, and clumsily we made it back to my room, where he collapsed on my bed and watched me as I moved around the room to grab the blankets and bowl. I set it down on his side and smiled. “Just in case you can’t reach the bathroom again.” 

Unfolding the blanket, I spread it out over the top of him before grabbing my pajamas and changing quickly in the bathroom. Jake was still awake when I got back, watching the door for me. I sat on the empty side of the bed, gathered my pillow, and got ready to head to Patrick or Peter’s room for the night. Jake turned to look at me over his shoulder, and quietly he said, "You still owe me one.”

"I'm not kissing you," I replied with a shake of my head. "Especially not when you're this fucked up."

Jake looked nervous as he turned his head to look at me with those big watery eyes. "I wasn't gonna ask for that."

I finished taking my shoes off, tossing them in the far corner of my room. "What then?"

"Will you…" He paused. "Will you just… Hold me?"

It was such a simple request, one that was filled with years of vulnerable needs that had been pushed aside or ignored. I could see the doubt in his eyes as he waited for me to deny him this comfort as everyone else had before. He wouldn't get that denial tonight, not from me. I readjusted on the bed, fluffing my pillow before turning on my side toward him, carefully wrapping my arms around his bare, tense back. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah…" He whispered, reaching up to gently hold my hand, pressing it to the heartbeat that pounded in his chest. "It's perfect."

I leaned over and kissed his cheek before I curled up again and set my forehead between his shoulder blades. “Goodnight, Jake.”

He didn’t say it back, just yawned and mumbled my name as he slowly relaxed into the soft bedding. The longer I lay there, pressed up against his warm skin, the more unavoidable the truth became. I was comfortable… I felt happy and safe alone in a room with Jake. My fingers gently traced the dark ink around his lower bicep, a thick band of black, before moving to the long-stemmed flowers that intricately lined the skin of his upper arm. As I traced the lines of his tattoos, I quietly admitted to myself that I liked Jake… Liked him more than I anticipated. 

"I never thought I'd get this attached to you either,” I whispered before closing my eyes and drifting off to sleep, holding onto Jake with the silent promise that I’d still be there when he woke up.

*

Irish folk music blared through the walls, pulling me out of my blissful sleep, curled into the warmth on the right-hand side of the bed. With a frustrated groan, I rolled over and walked to the door, opening it to peek out at the two shirtless idiots that were arguing over who got the shower first. “TURN THE MUSIC DOWN!”

“JESUS!” Patrick yelled back. “Don’t gotta yell, girly.”

“Turn. It. Down.” I pointed my finger at Peter. “Don’t make me get my gloves.”

Peter chuckled. “Relax, sis, I’ll have him turn it down.”

Turning back, I slammed my door and flopped back onto my bed, resting my head against the lean muscle of Jake’s chest. My eyes shot open. Jake's chest? I lifted my head and looked down at him, those blue eyes shining in the sunlight as he looked up at me with a smirk. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” I said, still slightly dazed as the events of last night came back to me in a rush. “How are you feeling?”

“Good, all things considered,” he answered, eyes drifting down to look at my sleepwear. “I’ve got a few questions, though.”

I scratched my head, sitting up to give him some space. “I’m guessing the first one is something along the lines of ‘what the fuck am I doing in your bed’?”

He nodded. “Something like that, yeah.”

“Well, I don’t have a full account of where you were yesterday, but at around ten, you showed up outside Ozzy’s and tried to fight a biker. So I brought you up to Patrick and Peter’s - my dad’s old place - and put you to bed.”

“Where’d my shirt go?”

“In the wash,” I answered with a smirk. “You threw up on it somewhere along your journey.”

He sighed. “That’s a new low, even for me.”

I shrugged. “Eh, it could’ve been worse.” After a minute of Irish folk music playing in the background, I picked at my nails. “So… how much do you remember about last night?”

“Not a lot,” he said. “Why? Did I do something embarrassing?”

“Depends on what you consider embarrassing.”

“Well, my pants are still on, so that’s a good sign.”

I met his curious gaze. “Do you remember climbing into my bathtub?”

Jake’s smile faded as he nodded. “I remember that yeah.”

Good, I breathed a sigh of relief and nudged him. “Do you remember practically inhaling my pillows and calling me beautiful?”

He rolled his eyes. “You can’t blame me for the pillows. They’re soft, and they…” Then, pausing, he shook his head, committing to whatever words he held back. “They smell like you.”

“I smell like me, too,” I retorted. “And you’re not constantly trying to inhale me.”

“I would,” he replied, pulling his arms behind his head to lounge. “That cherry vibe you’ve got really does it for me.”

I shoved his knee. “Weirdo.”

“As for calling you beautiful, I hardly think that’s a surprise.” His eyes looked me up and down. “You are beautiful. And you know it, which is kind of hot.”

Standing, I shook my head at him. “Shower’s through there, though my idiot brothers will likely be hogging all the hot water. Any preferences for breakfast?”

Jake sat up fully, eyes glued to my exposed legs. “I believe I was promised shitty eggs a while ago.”

“Shitty eggs it is,” I replied. “I’ll grab your shirt for you and leave it on my bed.”

Patrick and Peter turned to look at me when I closed my bedroom door. Peter nodded to the full coffee pot and smiled. “Figured you’d be out here pretty quick this morning.”

Patrick sipped at his mug. “How’s your little boyfriend?”

“He’s fine,” I answered, grabbing a pan and the eggs out of the fridge.

“Ohhh making him breakfast too?” Patrick added. “How domestic!”

I slapped his back with the spatula. “Shut up and behave yourself! He had a rough night. The last thing he needs is you two morons making this weird.”

Peter looked up from the paper. “We’ll be perfect, gentlemen.”

Patrick stood next to the bathroom door. “Oi! Don’t run the sink while the showers on, or you’ll be tapping ice off that pecker!”

My head hit the dryer as I groaned. “I fucking hate you two.” I grabbed Jake’s shirt out of the dryer and put it on my bed. 

Cooking was the only part of the morning I enjoyed. It was simple and straightforward, with the room to be as good as you made it. Breakfast was something I could control, one of the few things in life that only changed when I did so. The eggs were simple enough, an old staple from living with my dad and brothers before going back to my mom. Dad always called them "shitty eggs" though it was arguable that they only tasted shitty when he cooked them. 

Having a background in food, I took on most meals after I came to live here permanently. That was when "shitty eggs" turned into "omelets". Dad still cooked his horrible breakfast for me when I'd drained myself on a bender or just had a bad night. Shitty eggs came back into use after he died, and Patrick and I had to keep things afloat while Peter went through chemo.

The shower turned off, and a few moments later, Jake came out of my room, fixing his shirt and jacket with a blank expression I now saw through. He was nervous. Clearing his throat, he looked around, taking in the small space of bright colors and thrifted furniture. Patrick broke the silence, lifting his mug, "Good morning."

"Morning," Jake replied stiffly.

Peter smiled from behind his book and gestured to the seat across from him. "Breakfast should be ready any minute."

Jake sat down, setting his hands on top of the table and tapping his fingers against the old wood. “This is a nice place.”

“It’s small,” Patrick said. “But it’s got a lot of history.”

“I can imagine. How long have you all lived here?”

“It’s been in the family for years, so pretty much forever,” Peter answered. “Well, except for Patrick. He came to live with us when we were… I don’t know… eight, nine, maybe?”

Jake’s brows furrowed slightly. “You’re not related?”

Patrick shook his head, his face tighter as he worked past the slightly uncomfortable question. “Nah, I lived on the street before Jack found me. The orphanage didn’t exactly appeal to my tastes.”

“Both your parents died then?”

“Don’t know,” Patrick admitted quietly, looking down at the coffee swirling in his mug. “Never asked.”

Sensing the rising tension in the burly man, I turned the stovetop off and plated the eggs, serving them quickly and clapping my hand on his shoulder. “Family ain’t always blood.”

That brought a smile to his face as he looked up at me and nodded. “Family’s more than blood.”

“Alright, enough talking. Eat before your food gets cold,” I instructed everyone, taking my seat across from Patrick beside Jake.

He looked at the plate of eggs and then at me, “These are supposed to be shitty?”

I laughed. “It’s just what we call eggs around here.”

“Shitty eggs were dad's specialty,” Peter mused with a grin. “Man could cook any meat you gave him but would always manage to fuck up the eggs.”

“I liked his eggs,” Patrick insisted.

“Yeah, well, you were a kiss ass.”

He flipped me off and used his fork to shovel the food into his mouth as quickly as possible. Patrick was a notorious inhaler of anything edible. It was most likely a residual habit from his time living on the streets, but it became rather endearing. Finally, he gulped down his coffee and stood, clearing his dishes and giving me a kiss on the head. “You’re on Ozzy duty today. Try and be quick. He’s getting sneaky about showing up early.”

“Stubborn old goat,” I replied into my eggs.

Patrick gave Jake a pat on the arm as he passed and rubbed Peter’s bald head. “Have a good day, misfits!”

Jake ate slowly, being far quieter than I expected him to be. Peter kept looking up at him every few minutes, watchful and a little bit amused. “What are your plans for today, Pete?”

“A whole lot of nothing,” he answered. “I gotta feed the alley cats in a few minutes, though.”

“You and your strays,” I mumbled. “How many came last time?”

“Twenty-three.”

I smiled. “Maybe you can start your own show. The Cat Man.”

He laughed. “You’re hilarious.” Then, gathering his dishes and disappearing into his room to get the bag of cat goodies he’d kept on hand, he stole a chunk of my eggs off my plate and headed toward the door, “Thanks for breakfast, sis!”

“You’re welcome, asshole!”

The door closed, and the quiet buzz of the city waking up outside was all that remained. When Jake and I had finished our food, I took our dishes and started washing them while he looked around the apartment more carefully than he had before. He picked up picture frames and leafed through books left lying around. It was weird having him here, a place that had been - and still was - one of my safe havens from the world outside. But as weird as it was, it felt… natural… like Jake belonged here just as much as I did.

I was surprised when he didn’t ask any questions, though maybe he wasn’t feeling particularly curious after the night he had. “So…” I started, “What happened yesterday?”

He shrugged. “It’s a bit of a blur, to be honest.”

“I… I was worried about you.” He turned his head, eyes meeting mine for only a moment before he looked away. “We all were.”

With a scoff, he plucked a book off a table. “I doubt that.”

“So it may have mainly been me, but still.” I refocused on the dishes as I asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Jake answered. “I think I did enough whining last night.”

I turned to him and shook my head. “That’s not what that was.”

His smile wasn’t real but rather a visual defense he put up to try and breeze past the uncomfortable topic. “Crying in your bathtub over my dead mom sounds an awful lot like whining to me.”

“Then you need a new definition of whining.” I placed the dishes on the rack to dry and leaned back against the counter. “It was brave of you to admit all of that to me. Even if you don’t think so.”

"I'm sorry for putting all this on you," he said after a long moment of silence. The shame and guilt lace his words as well as his eyes.

"Don't apologize for that. Not to me."

He smiled a little at my use of his own words against him. “Thanks.”

“So… you have plans today?” I asked.

“Not really,” he admitted. “Unless avoiding Simone’s phone calls counts as plans.”

“Is she that upset?” Part of me felt gladdened by that fact… glad that he’d sought me out and not her, but I forced myself to let that go as Jake looked up worriedly.

“She’s livid. I haven’t pulled something like this in a while, and let’s just say, after everything I put her through a few months ago, this is kind of the last straw with her. Howard too.” He looked back down at his hands as he shrugged. “Apparently, I have behavioral issues.”

With a laugh, I made a face. “Behavioral issues? That doesn’t sound like you at all!” Jake only rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Well, I’ve got some errands to run today, but you’re more than welcome to tag along.”

He considered my offer for a minute. “You sure I won’t annoy you?”

“Oh, I’m positive you will,” I answered with a smirk. “But I don’t mind.”

“Okay,” he said. ��What’s first?”

“I’m going to get dressed, so why don’t you head down to the gym and wait? Patrick will probably keep you pretty entertained.”

He nodded, following my advice and heading down the narrow steps to The Ring while I headed back to my room. I washed my face and brushed my teeth before digging through my drawers to find the right size of clothes. I really need to clean in here. Pulling a pair of jeans on and throwing on the first t-shirt I could find, I moved back to the bathroom to quickly pull my messy hair into two simple braids on either side of my head, combing down the shorter strands that refused to cooperate with a bit of water.

The lights in the gym flipped on as I descended the steps. I could hear Patrick’s loud voice coaching, and as I rounded the corner, I could see Jake standing in front of a punching bag with a pair of gloves on and a curious glint in his eyes. Leaning back against the wall, I watched the two of them for a minute. Pat showed him a few practice punches, moving through each step slowly so Jake could watch and learn the proper technique. His fists hit the bag in quick strikes, landing exactly where intended in seconds.

Jake did his best, throwing out slower punches and focusing more on the technique behind them rather than hitting as hard as possible. The last hit rattled the chains holding the bag in place. Patrick hummed. “Not bad. If you’re really lookin to learn a thing or two, Lil miss Leanin’ Lena could surely teach you.”

I scrunched up my nose and stepped toward them. “I hate it when you call me that.”

“It’s cute,” Patrick insisted.

“Not as cute as Prancin’ Pattie.” 

He pointed at me with a deep glare. “It’s Powerful Pattie, now!”

I nudged Jake. “Come on, tough guy, we’ve got work to do.” He gave his gloves back to Patrick and followed me toward the alley door. “See you later, Prancin’!” 

Dodging the rag he tossed my way, I pulled the old door open and led Jake out to the alley. Peter was a way down, sitting on the ground with bowls of cat food neatly lined up along the wall and about thirty cats purring and rubbing themselves on him. He waved to us as we made our way across the alley to Jack and Ozzy’s back door.

“Isn’t it a bit early to be opening the bar?” He asked as we moved down the stairs into the dark space.

Flipping on the lights, I answered, “We’re not opening it. Patrick and I alternate helping Oz every morning. He doesn’t know, so keep it quiet, but he’s not getting any younger, and he gets messier every day, so we organize the ledgers and make sure he can find everything he needs to and move some boxes around, and unpack some things. You know, the usual.”

Jake chuckled, sitting and watching me as I moved around behind the bar. “That sounds like a lot of work.”

“It’s not so bad,” I assured him. “Besides, I know Oz would do it for me if the roles were reversed.”

“I’m pretty sure you could get a homeless person to do this for you if you really wanted.”

I grinned at him. “Because I’m so lovable?”

“I was gonna say convincing,” he replied. “But lovable works too, I guess.”

“Well, get up and help me unbox these cases,” I replied, nodding to the boxes shoved off to the far end of the bar.

He stepped around, taking my place as I moved to the back office and flipped the light on. Ozzy’s office was always a mess, but it was more organized chaos than anything. He had specific stacks of papers dedicated to bills and health inspections, and inventory. The one thing he always seemed to lose track of was his reading glasses, so Patrick and I got him a container to put them in and painted it the ugliest, brightest yellow we could find. He still lost them, but it wasn’t as often now.

I could hear Jake unboxing and stacking the alcohol while I tidied a space in the center of Ozzy’s things and staged everything he’d need to look over for the day so he’d find it easily but not suspect mine or Patrick’s involvement. Ozzy loved having us help out around the bar, but when it came to the little things like bills and paperwork, things he contributed to his share of work within our odd little family, he was insistent on doing it himself. Hence the sneaking in and secrecy.

After the office looked just right, I rejoined Jake in the front. His eyes lit up as he admired the back wall of every alcohol Ozzy kept on the shelf. He’d gotten through one case and had just opened the other that was filled with more glassware. Side by side, we polished the glasses when Jake suddenly chuckled. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing,” he replied with a huge grin. “Just remembering that night you stayed late so Nicky could go to his kid's recital or whatever.”

“Oh god,” I grumbled.

“What was it you said?” He asked through his laughter. “You can flirt with me all you want, but that’s as far as you’re gonna get?”

I bit my lip and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

He set his glass up, leaning against the bar. “And here we are. Having shared a bed not once but twice. Having seen each other half naked and at our lowest.” With a thoughtful hum, he looked around the empty bar. “Who would’ve thought?”

“Not me,” I answered, turning to grab another glass to hide the blush that crept up my neck. “If I recall correctly, you didn’t exactly take that well.”

“I didn’t,” he admitted. “Can’t blame me, though.” He gestured to me. “Look at you. Anyone would be a bit grumpy after getting rejected by you.”

“I hardly rejected you.” I shook my head and watched him polish the last glass, focusing far too closely on his fingers and the way his muscles moved when he held the glass just a little tighter. “I just didn’t want you to think your hard work flirting with me was going to get you anywhere.”

He narrowed his eyes and shrugged. “It got me pretty far.”

I grabbed hold of the empty boxes and rolled my eyes at him. “Whatever you say, grump.”

*

After finishing up at Ozzy’s, Jake went to the store with me. It was not at all how I’d imagined my day going, but there we were, walking side by side down the isles working through the list Peter had given me. Placing the cat food in our small cart, Jake looked up at me and asked, “So Patrick really lived on the streets?”

“Yeah,” I answered, dropping another item into the cart. “He doesn’t like to talk about it much, but from what I know, his parents dropped him off at the fire station and just vanished. He was in the orphanage for a while, and then he moved to foster care, but you’ve met Pat he’s… he’s a lot. After another family ditched him, he just kind of ran away.”

“And your dad just took him in?”

I nodded. “Pat would use the gym to sleep during the winters. My dad caught him a few times before he finally got the chance to invite him upstairs for a warm meal. After that, he just kind of… stayed. My dad adopted him when he was thirteen.”

Jake shook his head. “I never would’ve guessed it. The two of you look related, and you certainly act like you are.”

“Family’s more than blood,” I repeated. “Patrick might not be my blood, but he’s my family. We bicker, fight, and poke fun at each other, but we also help each other with anything and everything without judgment.”

That last bit made Jake’s eyes scrunch up. It shouldn’t have surprised me that the notion of no judgments was something he’d have a hard time believing. After all, he grew up with Simone, the queen of judging. “Oh, pass me a thing of mustard,” he said after checking the list again. I leaned back and grabbed one of the bottles, handing it to him so he could toss it in the cart. “Thanks.”

We got back to the apartment around noon, and the gym was in full swing. Patrick coached from the side of one of the rings, holding his hand out to give me the money for his share of the groceries and taking a water bottle from one of the bags. While Jake and I put things away, my stomach growled. “Hey, do you like middle eastern food?”

“I guess,” he replied, shutting the fridge. “Don’t think I’ve had much of it.”

“Wanna grab some lunch? I know a pretty good spot.”

Nana’s wasn’t too busy when we walked across the street and into the front door. Her place was small and only really well known among the locals of the neighborhood, which was another reason we all loved it so much. The first person I saw was Dom, sitting in his corner with a few of his boys talking business. The second was Nana, though I didn’t see her so much as the headscarf covering my eyes as she tugged me into her tight embrace.

“Habibi!” she cheered as she pulled back, smiling warmly, and she pinched my cheeks, fussing over my thin frame before finally taking notice of Jake. Her eyes grew nearly as wide as the rims of her glasses as she looked back at me with a raised brow. “And who might this strapping young man be?”

I smiled, carefully pulling Jake forward so Nana could devour him. “Nana, this is Jake. Jake, this is Aya Nazari.”

“Please call me Nana!” The old woman insisted. With raised brows, she turned back to me and whispered, too loudly, “He’s very handsome.”

Jake smirked as he pretended not to hear her. “Think you can squeeze us in for lunch?”

“Of course!” She shouted, shoving both of us toward a table closest to the front. “How hungry are you? Just a little or a lot?” I opened my mouth to answer, but she waved me off, “I’ll just bring you all your favorites!”

“Nana!” I tried, but the old woman was already gone to the back of the kitchen.

Jake settled into his seat with raised brows. “Your grandma is quick.”

I sighed. “Yeah, prepare yourself for at least five full meals.”

“I knew I shoulda worn my sweat pants,” he teased, eyes turning to the diner to look around.

“You do that everywhere you go?” I asked, finally letting my curiosity win out.

“What?”

“That serious study you do of every new place.” I did my best to recreate it. “You do it everywhere, or are the places I bring you just really interesting?”

Jake shrugged, looking around with a smile. “You do bring me to some pretty interesting places. But, yeah, I do it everywhere. You can get a lot of information from people’s spaces. It helps me get a sense of what to expect.”

“Not a surprise guy, I take it?”

“No,” he chuckled. “I hate surprises.”

I nodded in agreeance. “Agreed. Surprises suck.”

Nana brought water to our table with a bright smile. “Abdul is working on your food.” She pulled up a chair and settled in next to us. “So, tell me about yourself, Jake.”

“There’s not much to tell,” he answered.

“Nonsense!” Nana insisted. “If my Lena is with you, you must be special!” She pinched my cheek. “She has an eye for good souls.”

Abdul shouted from the back, and Nana sighed, standing up to shout back at him. I cleared my throat with a sip of water. “Sorry about her. She’s kind of nosey.”

He kept looking around with a faint smile on his lips. “Old people usually are.”

Lunch with Jake proved to be an interesting thing. He didn’t open up much more about his night or what led him to try to fight the gang outside of Jack and Ozzy’s, but he opened up about small things. He loved food and art and collecting things like rocks. So when he brought up his photography, I leaned forward, practically landing in the food Nana put in front of me. “You have a camera?”

“Yeah,” he said, taking another bite of his food. “Is that impressive?”

“Yes!” I smiled wider. “You’ll have to show me some of your pictures sometime.”

Jake leaned forward, cocky attitude and wicked gleaming eyes watching me with glee. “What’s in it for me?”

I shrugged. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

“You’re into photography?”

“Painting,” I corrected.

He laughed. “A cook, a boxer, and an artist? You, Lena Harrow, are probably the most confusing and contradictory woman I’ve ever met.”

Raising my brows, I tilted my head, mulling over the title with joy. “I like the sound of that.”

When we finally gathered our things to go, Nana slid a pile of boxes onto the counter. “You are out and about, yes?”

“Yeah, what do you need, Nana?”

“Will you take these to Prue and Quinn?” She asked. “Abdul’s back is flaring up again, so he cannot walk all that way.”

Grabbing the boxes, I nodded. “Say no more. We’ve got good backs, so it should be pretty easy.”

The old woman wove around the boxes Jake now held, hugged him tightly, and said a few words in Arabic before pulling back and squeezing his cheek. "Don't be a stranger!" She turned to me and patted my cheek. "You bring him back next time! Both of you are so thin, wasting away!"

“Have a good night, Nana!” I replied, quickly moving through the door Jake held open for me. “Alright. Prue’s this way, and Quinn will be a street or so down from her.”

The sky had turned a beautiful shade of light orange as the sun had just started to disappear behind the tall buildings. Jake and I walked the block and a half to the small tattoo shop where Prue worked. “Didn’t know Prue was a tattoo artist,” Jake mused, admiring the neon signs.

“Where do you think I got all my ink?” I asked, pushing the door open with my hip. “Prue’s the only one I trust to get a tattoo from around here.”

Jake’s eyes skimmed down to my arm. “Well, if you’re an example of her talent, I’d say it's safe to assume she's the best in the business.”

I beamed at the compliment and smiled even wider. Prue’s chair was in the back, where she sat leaning over one of Dom’s boys, focused on his leg. Katie, the apprentice that ran the front desk, smiled at me.“Nana’s?” I nodded, and she extended her hands over the counter. “Gimmegimmegimme!”

She took her box and groaned at the full aroma of spices. “Does Prue have time to eat?”

“She should,” the girl replied, ripping open the plastic holding her silverware. “Last I checked, she only had a few more spots to finish, so she should be on touch-ups right now.”

“Awesome. Thanks, Katie.”

Katie looked back up, this time her eyes meeting Jakes as she swallowed a large bite of food and cleared her throat. A blush tinted her cheeks as she smiled sheepishly at him. “Uhh… Hi…”

Jake ate it up, smiling with a tilt of his head. “Hey.”

She looked away, holding in a giggle. “Make yourselves comfortable, I guess.” Once Jake turned away from her, she looked at me with wide eyes and a not-at-all-subtle whisper, “Oh my god, I think I’m pregnant now!” Jake glanced over his shoulder, and she squeaked, closing her mouth tightly. “Are you and him…?” She signed, making a crude gesture for fucking. 

“No.” I signed back.

Katie raised her eyebrows. “Are you planning on…?” She made the same gesture again.

I rolled my eyes and turned away from her, heading down toward Prue’s station. Jake followed close behind as I stopped short of her to make sure I didn’t startle her and mess her up. Ryker, the man in the chair and one of Dom’s most trusted “employees,” smiled and nodded to me. “Lena! Long time no see!”

“Good to see you’re tastes,” I gestured to the skull tattoo, “Havent changed, Ry.”

He shrugged. “You know me, all about that hardcore shit.”

I laughed. “Yeah. Hows the pain compare to the mommy tattoo you have on your ass?”

“Oh fuck you!”

Prue looked up, taking note of Ryker’s mouth moving before she turned and smiled up at me. “LENA!” She shouted, setting her tools down to free her hands. “What’s up?”

“Lunch.” I nodded to Jake, who held the other containers of food in his hands with an awkward smile. 

She made a sound of glee, hopping up out of her chair and giving Jake only seconds to resituate the food before she wrapped her arms around his middle, holding her gloved hands away from him with an equally loud, “JAKE!”

He glanced at me with a chuckle as he gave her a pat on the back. “Hey… how’s it goin’?”

Reading his lips, she smiled wider. “Good,” she said, pulling back. “He’s running errands with you?”

I shrugged. “It’s been a weird morning.”

“That’s so fucking cute!” She scrunched up her nose and squealed. “Give me one second. I just need to clean him up and wrap his knee.”

As she turned back to her work, Jake smiled at me with a raised brow. “Seems like she likes me.”

“Yeah,” I admitted. “You tend to have that effect on people when you’re not being a dick.”

“Good to know,” he replied, clearly pleased with my answer and the way Katie kept leaning over the counter to admire his ass.

Once Prue finished, she sat behind the counter and dug into her food. “Are you guys staying?”

“We’ve gotta get this food to Quinn.”

“Tell that bitch I said hi!” She replied with a big grin. “Oh, and ask her what time we’re going dress shopping.”

“Oh god, that’s right,” I whined. “I’ll ask.”

Prue swallowed her food, wiped her mouth, and gave Jake another hug. “Bye, Jake.”

He waved, already migrating toward the door. “See ya.”

“God, he’s cute when he’s nervous!” Prue giggled. “I’ll be expecting a full rundown of what the hell you two have been getting up to today.”

“Whatever. Enjoy your food.” I signed back following Jake. “Sorry about her. She’s a very touchy person.”

Jake agreed, his hands hanging closer to his sides as he walked. “It’s alright. I was more concerned with her assistant.”

I laughed. “Katie’s sweet, but she’s not very good at the whole admiring from afar thing.”

“Admiring?” He raised his brows and grinned.

“Oh, don’t pretend you didn’t notice her checking you out.”

He made a noise, slowly drifting closer to me until our shoulders pressed together as we walked, his blue eyes boring down into mine. “Are you jealous, princess?”

I scoffed. “I hardly need to be.”

“Oh?”

“Admit it, I could have you anytime I wanted you,” I answered, eyes instinctually looking away from his to focus on his soft lips.

“You think it’d be that easy?”

“Well, wouldn’t it?” I asked, batting my eyelashes as I looked back up at him.

Jake shook his head, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth for a moment. “I like to think I’d give you a little trouble.”

Tilting my head, I smiled. “Only a little?”

He cursed under his breath as I stepped ahead, leaving him behind me to check out my ass as I walked. The strip club wasn’t far from Prue’s shop, and it was always a place people could find fairly easily due to the intensely bright lights and the thumping music. Once we got close enough, I slowed down to let Jake catch up to me and advised, “Keep your hands in your pockets.”

Jake scoffed. “Think I can’t control myself around a few strippers?”

“No,” I rolled my eyes. “I’m more concerned you’ll lose your wallet. Half of the girls working here around lunchtime are some of the best pickpockets in the city.”

“I mean, a nice pair of tits to the face would be quite the distraction.” He agreed, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets.

The club, called Busty's, bumped with lively music as we entered. It was relatively quiet. Daytime wasn't exactly when the stripping business was booming. Quinn would be in the dressing room, doing her extensive routine to get ready for her shift tonight. I nodded to the bouncer up front by the counter, and he nodded back. "Quinn's in the back. Any of that for me?"

I pulled the smallest box from Jake's hand. "Nana said this one has extra love in it."

"That woman is a saint!" He cried, accepting the food with a smile. Pointing his fork at Jake, his eyes narrowed. "This one with you?"

"Yep," I looked back at Jake with a smile. "I know he looks like trouble, but I promise he'll behave."

Shaking his head, Jake flipped me off. "If you say he's cool, then he's cool. Try not to let him near Crystal, though. Bitch is on one hell of a streak with wallets."

Linking my arm with Jakes, I pulled him forward. "Thanks for the heads up!"

"I look like trouble?" Jane questioned as we moved through the dimly lit main room.

"Yeah. Don't pretend you don't know exactly what I'm talking about." I gestured to his outfit. "The black clothes, leather, piercings, chains. You just scream bad boy, bartender."

"So I just scream I'm your type?"

"I'm never going to hear the end of that, am I?"

Jake leaned in as the music got louder. "Not on my watch, princess."

Past the hideous carpet and the multiple stages filled with varying light colors was the golden sign that said dressing room, staff only. I hurried up the stairs and knocked on the door. “Quinn, are you at least somewhat decent?”

“Not at all,” she answered. “But you can’t see my tits, so come on in.”

The dressing room was bright, far brighter than the actual club was. Everything was pink and gold, with sparkles embedded into every surface. Quinn sat at a little desk with her name written on the mirror in lipstick. She wore a lacy black, mostly sheer outfit and was just finishing up her eyelashes when Jake and I walked in. Through the mirror, she saw him and smirked. “Jake? Now, what is a fine gentleman like you doing with our little troublemaker?”

“Just running a few errands.”

Quinn practically groaned. “You have him running errands with you?” She purred, turning to look up at me as I moved to set her food down. “How cute.”

I rolled my eyes and stuck my tongue out at her. “Nana sends her love.”

“Perfect timing!” She said, tearing into the food. “If you’d have brought me this after I did my lips, I would have killed you.”

Jake awkwardly looked around, trying not to pry into the more intimate things thrown about the room while still trying to satisfy his curiosity. “Prue wants a time for dress shopping.”

“I was thinking day of at like six?”

“In the morning?” I groaned. “I hate you two.”

She shook her head. “So, what have you two been up to today?”

“Like he said, errands,” I replied quickly.

“Errands or,” she raised her hands to do air quotes as she sensually whispered, “Errands?”

“Don’t trip on the stage,” I teased, grabbing Jake by the hand and leading him out of the dressing room.

She waved. “Bye bitch! Bye, Jake!”

We walked out of the club and back into the chilling air. Jake and I walked closer together, our hands still linked for a moment before I pulled my fingers free of his. For a while, we just walked, the quiet that had settled between us comfortable and free. It felt nice to spend time with him outside of the group, where he felt less inclined to hide away his every thought. As we grew closer to the apartment, Jake sighed. “Thanks for letting me tag along.”

“Thanks for tagging along,” I replied. “It was weirdly fun.”

He kept his eyes trained ahead of us as he asked, “So, you think I’m gonna get fired?”

I watched his face and saw the worry and the fear that lingered in his furrowed brows and tight eyes. “I don’t know. Howard was pretty pissed.”

“What’d Simone say?” I knew what he meant by asking. Knew he wanted to know if the hundreds of messages he’d gotten full of her anger… of her threatening to leave him behind, were true.

“She told him not to,” I said honestly. I was no fan of Simone and never would be, but Jake cared deeply for her, and I couldn’t bare to hurt him more than he already had been.

He nodded, breathing out a stressed breath and taking in a new, relieved one. “I’d say it’s about fifty-fifty then.”

“Oi!” Patrick hollered from across the street. He waved us over with wide arm gestures and flamboyant movements. “Come on!”

Jake and I crossed the street and fell into step behind my brothers as they began to walk. “Where are we going?”

Peter wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “To get that drink we owe you too, and that moon-eyed bitch.”

I gave him a glare. “Pete-”

“Relax, I’m not partaking.”

“Not even a sip.”

“You’re no fun.”

The sun finally set, and blue hues filled the city's skyline. All the bright signs kicked on and lit up the streets with that glow I loved so much. Walking through the neighborhood at night always made me feel like I was a kid again, sitting on my dad's shoulders as he pointed out his favorite spots and greeted everyone that passed with a fond hello. I looked over at Jake, slightly breathless at the way the colors illuminated him. Was he always so handsome? I wondered as his smile nearly made my heart burst. Oh my god, pull it together! I turned back around at the large crowd spilling out the doors of the old Irish pub.

“Here?” I asked.

Patrick smirked. “The bet was we bought drinks, didn’t ever say you got to choose where.”

The old pub was always packed, loud, and filled with drunken Irish men looking for a good drink and maybe a good fight if the mood struck. Wooden walls were lined with every type of whiskey and rum and Irish-made beer. Hanging from the ceiling, old streamers of green four-leaf clovers hung, likely from some old celebration of Saint Patrick’s Day.

We all sat down at the first table we could find, Jake and I on one side and Pat and Pete on the other, grinning like fools. They loved this place, not just because of the drinks and the loud people but because of how much it reminded them of our dad. I saw the appeal but found comfort in dads memory in smaller, less chaotic locations. Patrick left the table to get the drinks, and Peter leaned forward. “So, how was your day?”

“Good,” I answered, glancing at Jake. “We just ran errands.”

Jake shrugged. “It beats getting my ass chewed out at work, so I’d say it was good.”

Peter nodded, eyes glued to my face and the expression or lack thereof. He saw right through me. Saw into my very mind and ate up all the thoughts of Jake that weren’t friend specific. He’d always been able to do that with every boy I liked since the dawn of time. It was frustrating to no end, but this was particularly so. After all the fuss I’d made over Jake being a friend, Peter would never let me live it down, and Patrick… God, Patrick would be the worst of them.

When Patrick returned, sliding each of us our drinks and setting a tiny shot glass of whiskey down in front of Peter, the crowd began to pull their attention to our table. Jake and Peter stood out like sore thumbs in the sea of red hair and rich browns. Jake, clad in all black and leather with chains and earrings and everything that screamed city boy and Peter, bald and thin and not drinking. Patrick sent as many dirty glares as he could to try and get them to get the message, but it seemed like tonight was not the night for silent deterring. 

We drank and conversed, but Patrick’s tenseness only seemed to grow as the crowd began whispering about our brother and my friend Jake. It only took one pointed comment to blow his top, but what surprised me was that it wasn’t a comment about Peter that did it in… but about Jake. I hadn’t heard the full thing, but whatever they’d said had Patrick on his feet in a manner of seconds, with Peter closely moving behind him.

Jake watched the fight break out with wide eyes and a quiet fuck. “Your brothers work quickly to defend your honor.”

“Oh, they didn’t say anything about me,” I assured him. “I look Irish enough for them.”

"Then what was all that about?"

"They insulted you." 

I watched Jake's face shift. That strong mask of disinterest and uncaring fell and exposed the disbelief that lay beneath it. "Why would they do that?"

"You're part of the group now, aren't you?" I asked. A hopeful look shined in his eyes as he shrugged. "Patrick's protective. He can insult you all night, but god help anyone else who does it." After a minute, I bumped his shoulder. "You said a mob was better than nothing. So... Welcome to the mob, Jake."

Patrick dropped himself back into his chair, and Peter laughed as he followed. "Those FUCKING CUNTS," Patrick yelled, causing more shots and curses to fly from the bar. Then, he smiled smugly, "Won't be botherin' ya again, little brother."

"Little brother?" Jake asked.

"Sorry," Peter said. "Copperhead calls everyone brother or sister. He's a big family guy."

"Don't mean nothin' by it," he said. "If it bothers you."

For a second, I worried that Jake would take offense to my brother's too-intimate gestures. But, instead, he shook his head and cleared his throat. "No, it's fine. It doesn't bother me."

Patrick smiled. "Good. Now, I believe we were discussing drinks before we were so rudely interrupted."

As the night dragged on the more Jake seemed to relax. My brothers were idiots the majority of the time, but they did a hell of a job making lost people feel found. The bar started to close down by the time we gathered our things, paid our tab, and started home. Patrick and Peter took the front, loudly singing Irish folk music as they walked back toward the apartment. Jake and I hung back, enjoying the quiet, crisp midnight air. 

Somewhere up the road, a car engine revved, the sound making me turn my head and nearly trip over my own feet as I searched the street for that flash of red and white. Jake set a hand on my lower back, steadying me as he looked at the road. "It's just someone's old junker."

Patrick and Peter had stopped walking, too, both of them looking back at me, ready and willing to come rushing in if I needed them. I shook my head, and we started walking again. They waited until we were a little closer to do the same. Then, after taking a minute to get my heart to stop beating wildly, I spoke, nudging Jake’s shoulder, “I just realized you’ve gone all day without trying to play 20 questions.”

Jake chuckled. “I did, didn’t I?”

“I’ll give you a freebie if you want,” I offered.

"You still haven't told me about this,” he said, brushing my hair off my shoulder to trace the long scar that peeked out from beneath the collar of my shirt.

"It's not something I like to talk about," I answered, our pace slowing until we weren't even walking anymore.

"Is it worse than all the shit with your mom?"

Worse. That was a mild way to put it. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, smoothing his thumb over the jagged edge of the skin. "I just want you to know you can trust me when, if, you're ready to talk about it."

I set my hand over his and looked up into his eyes. "I do trust you, Jake."

He smiled, looking up the street at Patrick and Peter as they waited for us. "I better go home. Wouldn't want Lena to miss me too much."

I rolled my eyes and smiled, the nervous tension from his question vanishing. "Yeah, she can be kind of clingy."

Jake shrugged. "I don't mind."

"See you at work tomorrow?" I asked as he took a step back.

"Depends on if I still have a job or not."

"I told Howard he should let it slide, but I don't know how much influence I have in managerial affairs."

He smiled, waving the concern away, and wrapped his jacket around my shoulders. "Don't worry about it, princess. I'm sure I'll be fine either way."

“Goodnight, Jake," I said, taking hold of the leather to pull it tighter around myself.

“Goodnight, Lena," he replied, looking at me for a minute before he turned toward the street to call a cab.

I rejoined Patrick and Peter, ignoring how both gave me that look. Patrick opened his mouth. "Don't say a word," I warned.

He put his hands up, innocently smiling. "I was just gonna say tonight was fun." There was a long pause. "And ask how long you're gonna wait to fuck him, you know, now that you're being realistic with yourself."

Raising my hand, I chased after him. "Stop running, and let me slap you!"

[beneathashadytree]

MAYA’S 2K+ FOLLOWERS EVENT!

Just a month or so ago, this blog hit 2K followers! It feels so surreal; to have so many people reading (and actually enjoying! Like, can you imagine?) my fics is a dream come true. To celebrate this incredible milestone, I’ve decided to hold an event! I will be opening my requests for the upcoming weeks—from today, 26/1/2023, till 9/2/2023. I’ll be outlining my requesting rules here💗

FANDOMS I’LL WRITE FOR:

One Piece

JoJo's Bizarre Adventure

Moriarty the Patriot

Attack on Titan

Boku No Hero Academia

Bungou Stray Dogs

Haikyuu!!

Kuroko no Basket

Tokyo Revengers

Juiutsu Kaisen

Mr. Love: Queen's Choice

Ikemen Sengoku

Ikemen Vampire

Ikemen Prince

Ikemen Revolution

Check my regular rules for requesting to find out where I’m at in each series/game! And here is my full masterlist, if you’d like to check out my works!

GENRES I’LL WRITE:

Fluff

Angst

Smut (as long as I’m comfortable with it)

Hurt/Comfort

Angst to fluff

Platonic or romantic

PS: I generally write for gender-neutral readers! I try to be as inclusive as possible 🫶🏽

You can, of course, request more than one dialogue prompt. Any additional details you'd like, just let me know.

EXAMPLES OF REQUESTS:

Hi, I would like to request an angst piece for Jotaro Kujo in JJBA, prompt "Would you stop that?"

I want to request a smut piece for Vinsmoke Sanji, prompt number 64, reader is a switch and is the one saying it to him!

EVENT PROMPTS:

“No one's ever done that to me before.”

“Could you play with my hair?”

“I can't remember the last time I did this with someone.”

“That feels nice.”

“I haven't been hugged in years.”

“I never want to let go.”

“Let’s just cuddle forever.”

“You put your arm around me and I literally felt my knees buckle, this is so pathetic.”

“I just want to be held for a little while.”

“You’re legally obligated to keep holding me.”

"I think I forgot what human contact felt like.”

“I need to remember what hugs feel like.”

“Do you mind if we stay like this for a little longer?”

“My family was never the touchy-feely type.”

“I’ve never been in a relationship before, so I don't really know how to do the whole…..kissing thing.”

“You were my first kiss.”

“Could we cuddle, like, platonically?"

“I’m in desperate need of a hug.”

"What's wrong with me?"

"Are you mad at me?"

"Can this stay between us?”

"I don't want you to go."

“Would you stop that?"

"Can we talk?”

"I have to tell you something."

"Take my hand."

"Sometimes I can't help but get lost in your eyes."

"This is my fault.”

"Talk to me. I'm here for you."

“Please, just come home."

"I didn't want to go to bed without you."

“You're doing it wrong."

"Go ahead, hit me."

“You don't give yourself enough credit."

"Why do you hate me?"

“Tell me something I don't know."

"Please don't make me go home."

"I've never seen you like this."

“You’re up early.”

"Let's just have sex instead."

"This part of you…seems to be very sensitive."

"Prove to me that you deserve this."

"If you give me a hickey, I'll have to give you one too."

"Ah, I see you have a little problem. I can help."

"I've never been into this stuff…until I met you."

"I just like keeping you close. You're so warm."

"Be quiet. We're not alone."

"And what if I want you to do that?"

"It's okay, you're doing great. Keep going."

"Come back to bed."

"You haven't seen anything yet."

"Can you feel what you've done to me?"

"Okay, but we have to be quick."

"Fine, I admit, I've fantasized about this before."

"I'll go gentle. Though, we can always change that."

"You shouldn't have said that. Now I can't resist you."

"I knew you were secretly a pervert, but this…!"

"That's it, there we go…just like that."

"Are you trying to seduce me? Because it's working."

"It's time for payback. Turn around."

"So you do like getting spoiled after all."

"Don't stop looking at me while you do it."

"You say that, but all I hear is 'more, more, more'"

"I want to love every inch of you tonight."

"Hey, hey, two on one is not fair!"

"Enough of that, let me fuck you."

"You can still keep going?! What in the world are you?"

"Take your time. The whole night is ahead of us."

"You like the way this fabric feels, don't you?"

"Your face is a mess… a very pretty mess."

[Prompts by @bewitchingmemes, @violettduchess]

EVENT MASTERLIST:

Spellbound (Giorno Giovanna, Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure)

Desperate (Mori Ougai, Bungou Stray Dogs)

Silk (Louis Moriarty, Moriarty the Patriot)

Inside (Sherlock Holmes, Moriarty the Patriot)

Call on Me (Chifuyu Matsuno, Tokyo Revengers)

Seduced (Albert Moriarty, Moriarty the Patriot)

Tender Love (William Moriarty, Moriarty the Patriot)

All Sensitive (Albert Moriarty, Moriarty the Patriot)

Obedient (Sir Crocodile, One Piece)

20 Years (Jotaro Kujo, Jojo’s Bozarre Adventure)

Hide Away (Sebastian Moran, Moriarty the Patriot)

Let Him Watch (Albert Moriarty, Moriarty the Patriot)

Show Me (Mori Ougai, Bungou Stray Dogs)

All Marked-Up (William Moriarty, Moriarty the Patriot)

After the Fall (William Moriarty, Moriarty the Patriot)

Firsts (Mycroft Holmes, Moriarty the Patriot)

Perfect (Jean-Pierre Polnareff, Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure)

Shameless (Mori Ougai, Bungou Stray Dogs)

Messy (Louis Moriarty, Moriarty the Patriot)

Nights with You (Mycroft Holmes, Moriarty the Patriot)

Earnest & True (Albert Moriarty, Moriarty the Patriot)

All your positive feedback throughout this entire time—even when I was on hiatus—has uplifted me during the toughest times. I am eternally grateful for every single one of you wonderful people, and I want to give all that love back to you!💗

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

every time I read about shitty landlords and read all the bullshit comments defending landlords for never going for social housing tenants I get so fucking angry. which, for a reminder to everyone: you are only ever one two pay day/s or paycheck/s away from homelessness or some other major life altering change for the worst... meaning you'll be next in line on the 10 year waiting list for social housing in my state of australia, new south wales.

because yeah, dgmw- a select few may or do leave properties in significant disrepair or completely ruin them.... I've seen the damage both on TV.... and through my cadetship in social housing last year. also heard about damage through that program, too, from both the workers where I was and the other people in the program etc etc. because for many people, esp if they've been long-term homeless for an extended period of time, they may not know how to live in a home or actively feel safe in a home and other things. it was our job, where i was working, to connect them with services to sustain their tenancies and help them live better lives.

but over the last year working in social housing, I learnt to hate landlords, even more than i already did previously. most especially the horrendous type of landlord that thinks they can just walk into their tenants' property at will, any time they want..... for idek.... just to "check they're stacking their plates right in MY cupboards. all day. every day. ".... or the like, which is a statement that was sneered down the phone..... not even considering time for ANY notice of inspection or entry.... entirely ignoring the tenants' privacy and "right to quiet enjoyment" which is stated in new south wales tenancy law and tenancy agreements.

we had to frequently remind these types of assholes that they could NOT enter the property without permission from the tenant (eg for repairs) or also us (inspections, repairs etc); or without express notice to the tenant, from themselves; or the real estate (repairs and inspections.... again sometimes in partnership with us). or also, in an emergency situation, they could enter the property for obvious reasons.

EVERYONE has EVERY fucking right to fucking hate landlords... and MOST ESPECIALLY when quite a few of them want to play with peoples lives like they're disposable toys. just invade privacy whenever they fucking want for funsies.... all bc apparently "oh no. MY PROPERTY may be damaged from this tenant not stacking plates to MY standard of presentation!!!!!! let me just enter their house- no. sorry. MY house - while they're at work, without asking them.... and then tell them some time later down the track. checkmate." and other bizarre utter bullshit excuses these assholes had.... and that i've also seen on my area's uni buy and sell page, when people have posted about their nightmare landlords over the years; looking for legal advice.

just. i fucking hate landlords. and tbh, I'm so glad I left that job. it was Too Much™️ dealing with these asshole landlords and their fucked up mind game ass questions and the mind games they wanted to play with their tenants and US.... always trying to tell any of the workers that I transferred them to on the phone, that "i'll ALWAYS know more about tenancy than YOU. because i've been a landlord for 30 years. what do YOU know???" no. the fuck. you do NOT know about MODERN tenancies, vernon or madeira. you need a real fucking job..... instead of thinking it's fun to have an express avenue to snoop into peoples lives in your free time. maybe brush up on CURRENT tenancy law, and don't pull the weird shit that you were pulling back in the 90s.... which was probably still fucked up borderline illegal or fully illegal landlord behaviour bullshit, in the 90s, anyway.

but hey. what the fuck do I know??? I was born in the mid-90s. more than likely, i will NEVER own a house of my own... or probably will never even move out of home... because of your bullshit gatekeeping of property: always raising rents and property prices.... and/or wasting actually useable and valuable living spaces for air bnbs and so-called "investment properties."

[gnarlyeddy]

Thank you for the free snacks

I think that they all live together. Karla, Ryu, and Taichi are Paul’s parents at the same time because nobody knows where the hell his parents are (or if he even has parents at a certain point.) Paulisded1fish’slittlebrotherandIwilldieonthathill

Paul, met Marina and Warabi through a series of events that boils down to “you’re an octoling and a DJ? You’re just like me fr”. In the Splatoon 3 times they hang out almost every other weekend using Zoom (which is cannon to the Splatoon universe)

Karla gives me extremely strong they/she energy I can’t explain.

Ryu enjoys going on hikes as a hobby. He usually goes alone but sometimes manages get a few of his bandmates or his rainmarker team to tag along.

Tachi originalled pinned Paul as “tiny and awful” because they were extremely irritated at the fact that the only person who ever reached out to their ask for a vocalist wasn’t a vocalist and was also a 10 year old child. He warmed up to his presence in the band extremely quickly and the other bandmates tease him for that.

Karla was a denizen of the deep. One day they just decided to leave. Nobody really knows why (they might not even know either)

All of them are on surprisingly good terms with Pearl. She definitely taught Paul how to say fuck though

Ryu regularly gives out extremely bizarre and strange anecdotes about his life that are non sequiturs to a conversation and then just…never elaborates.

Oh yeah also he’s a roller main. He just looks like a roller main.

Raian and Paul are friends. They met at a concert one day (around 2020ME) and hit it off due to their shared special interests in music production and ancient history.

Tachi is in a knitting club. That are his extra activities outside of the band. How does he knit with no arms? Well he plays the guitar with no arms so…uhh… shrug(?)

They all know how to cook to various degrees and they take turns cooking dinner, Paul getting to join in when he got older and stopped eating raw spaghetti or whatever 10 year olds do.

SashiMori I miss you sm you made one of the best songs in the game and then dipped

THESE R ALL SO TRUEEEEE do we all just share a braincell cuz i swear i mentioned Ryu being a hiker before.. it's just so fitting !! And taichi being globally accepted as the worried and caring parent is the best thing ever ... Karla is so interesting because while knowing nothing of them (perfect choice of pronouns btw) it's so obvious that she would also care for Paul in their own way (i think their preferred bonding activity is exploring abandoned buildings... Much to taichis demise

Honestly these are so good I'll have to sketch them out somewhere proper (.... Like school. I'll draw them w shading at school) but let me tell you I LIVE for these. Everyone please read

[ophelia-jones]

Multiple partners M/F/M, oral, anal, dubious consent 18+ only

Late kinktober submission.

Its a one shot, but connected to my fic 'looking in' over on ao3.

Fantasies

Paisley stretched out on the sofa, her head in Negan's lap as he smoothed her hair with those magic hands of his. She sometimes wondered if this were all just some wonderful fever dream. If it was, how far back would she find herself when she woke? Before Alexandria? Before the Saviors? Before she left England at all?

Sure, if that were the case, the world would go back to normal. No walking dead to contend with, plus The NHS, pubs, and shops would still be around. Her heart no longer ached for such things, though. The very idea of Negan being nothing more than a figment of her fevered imagination made it hard to breathe.

Bizarre as it seemed, she wouldn't want to wake up to that other world now. For all of the things she had there, it wasn't home. This, right here? This was home. Negan was home. Alexandria was home.

"What's going on in that twisted little brain of yours?" Negan asked with a soft smile as he gazed down at her with a look she would never believe was just for her. It made her feel everything all at once, and sometimes, she thought she might explode with so much emotion.

"Nothing much," she sighed contentedly.

"I don't believe that for one fucking second," he told her with a playful little smile. She loved it when he did that - murmured to her practically without moving his lips. It showed off his devilish nature so well; maybe because it was his eyes doing the talking.

"You're not getting bored of this old fucking man, are you?" He teased. Paisley knew this was no moment of self doubt but his way of drawing her into his web. He wanted her to lavish him with praise and kisses. Most likely, she thought as she flashed a twisted smile up at him, he wanted her to suck him off - since she was already down there, and all, he would say.

"Maybe," she teased, watching Negan's eyes widen with surprise.

"Really?" He said. It wasn't a question but a challenge. Paisley shrugged and feigned indifference to the subject.

"I mean, who doesn't like to order alacarte from time to time?" She couldn't suppress the giggle that her game had brought out.

"Uh-huh," Negan smacked his lips and nodded at her, arching an eyebrow. "Just what sort of thing are you thinking of ordering?"

"You want to know if I have any dirty fantasies I keep to myself?" She replied. "Sure, but that's it. A dirty mind wandering down dark alleyways and guinels that should never see the light of day. I'm sure you have plenty."

"Sweetheart, you have NO I-fucking-dea!" Negan laughed. "But we're talking about you right now. What twisted little kink soaks your panties when I'm not in them?"

"I…" Paisley paused and looked up at him, trying to guage his openness to the things she let her mind consider when she wanted to tease her own boundaries. The sort of things a person would think about but most likely never actually do.

"Come on, I'm no wilting violet, punk. Lay it on me," Negan urged.

"I might've imagined a threesome once or twice," she told him.

"That's pretty tame, Paisley - I expected some weird fucking shit. Hell, you got anyone in mind? You know me when it comes to pussy, the more the hornier."

"Sorry old man, I am just not into pink tacos. Nothing against women who are, it just doesn't do anything for me," she told Negan, reaching up to trace his jawline absent-mindededly. His eyes widened only slightly and she felt him shift his weight under her head.

"You think about taking on two cocks at once, huh?" He asked. "My, my but you do have a surprise or two left in you. How exactly do you imagine that shit would go down?"

"How do you think?" Paisley turned the tables. "What do you think it would be? I'll tell you if you're hot or if you're cold."

"Oh-ho mmmm… alright, I can play fucking ball," Negan smiled crookedly at her. He slipped one hand up along her side and under her shirt, kneading gently at one breast and rolling her nipple between his fingers. He described the way he imagined such a thing might go.

Rick has come to check on Paisley while Negan is out on recognizance and has been gone a few days. He has interrupted her shower and so she answers the door in a towel. Rick can't control himself, he's driven mad with lust and kisses Paisley ferociously, stripping her of her towel…

"Be serious!" Paisley laughed, slapping Negan lightly on his cheek.

"OK, so what was wrong with that?" He laughed sincerely. "Was it… the person? The setting? Enlighten the fuck outta me, here, punk."

"Well, I can't say Rick would be the first man I thought of," she told him lightly, grabbing his hand and guiding it down to cup her ass instead. "And it's not a cheap porno!"

"Really? Ok, I'm fucking stumped. I'm just going to keep my hands busy and my fucking mouth shut while you spell out your threesome for me," Negan told her, slipping his hand down her pants and between her legs and finding her wet and yielding.

"That's not distracting at all," Paisley moaned.

"Tell me," Negan demanded softly.

**************************************

Paisley stood, naked except for her thigh-high stockings, and admired her knotwork. Daryl could move only slightly and had no chance at all of getting loose from his bindings. The sight of his primal, rock-hard body, already naked and flexing against the ropes that bound his hands to the headboard and feet to the footboard. He was already stirring; not wanting to be excited by this but unable to help himself.

Paisley crawled onto the bed, dragging her hair along the length of his firm legs and over his now fully erect cock, then along his belly and chest, hitting him in the face with it as she tossed it back out of her face.

Suddenly, the door opened, and Negan stood there staring at the scene.

"Untie me," Daryl says quietly to her.

"Don't let me interrupt," Negan grinned; a slightly sideways smile, the one that always meant trouble. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door jamb. "I'll just wait my fucking turn for this ride."

"The fuck you will," Daryl growled, straight into against his bonds. "Paisley, untie me NOW!"

"Negan, you ass hole. You said I could have a hall pass today," Paisley griped at her husband as she freed one of Daryl's hands.

"I didn't say shit about stopping, did I? I am a man of my word! But hell, darlin', I figured the least you could do is let me watch."

Paisley glanced back and forth between the two, a smile slowly forming on her face.

"You serious about this?" Daryl growled at her.

"Could be fun," she replied.

"Come on, you know you want to give it to me by giving it to my girl," Negan taunted sitting in a chair in the corner.

"Untie me," Daryl told Paisley again. She sighed in disappointment but did as he said. She didn't want to traumatize the man, she had just wanted a little excitement. As soon. As Daryl's hands were free, they were in her hair. He pulled her head back and kissed her forcefully. She squealed in surprise but then relaxed into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck. Soon, he pushed her down, shoulders back against the mattress and slid down her body to drape her thighs over his shoulders and begin licking and sucking at her wet, throbbing cunt as if he were devouring a sticky sweet overripe peach.

"Oh, sweet fucking heaven! Don't stop, Daryl, just… like… that!" She screamed, her hands in her hair and her back arched as she closed her thighs around his head. She came hard against his tongue and he pulled away to lie on his back before pulling her up on top and guiding her to impale herself on his rigid member. As she began to ride him hard and slow, she heard the sound of Negan undressing behind her. She shivered with excitement and anticipation as she hoped she knew what he had in mind.

Negan knelt on the bed behind her and slid one long fingers hand over the curve of her ass before tapping a finger against her asshole to test her willingness. Daryl frowned up at Negan from under Paisley but his eyes refused to stay focused for long as she pulled up until he was almost not in her at all anymore and then crashed down hard to smash herself against his entire generous cock.

"Let me know if this hurts," Negan told her softly as he slipped one finger in, slowly spreading the resistant orifice and making her feel so full she might split in two. Slowly he used his fingers to encourage her to open wider as he lubed his cock - he had barely touched her, but was hard as a rock from watching them. She froze for a moment when she felt the tip pushing in.

"OK, ok…" Negan murmured, pausing to allow her time to adjust. Inch by inch he pushed in a little further as she rocked herself against Daryl until both men were deep inside of her.

Paisley had tears in her eyes from the intensity of the feeling. Negan, on his knees behind her, grabbed a handful of her hair and twisted. He pulled her head back toward him and began to ride her now. Through the thin membrane of skin between her entrances, Negan could feel his cock against Daryl's as he took control. He was in charge now. Daryl reached up to knead Paisley's breasts as Negan built up speed until he was riding her with a deep, slow rhythm. Daryl could just lie there and let her ride him to the edge and over if he was so inclined.

But Daryl wasn't the sort to let others take the lead. Especially Negan.

He was breathing heavily, releasing those breathy gasps and grunts that always turned her on and began thrusting his hips up into her hard and fast. He held both of her wrists and she was completely and utterly under their control.

"Oh, fuck yes - sweet fucking hell… don't stop! Please don't… shit, I'm coming! I'm com… oh oh oh my God…"

"That's my dirty, dirty girl right there," Negan purred in her ear, still holding her in place by her hair. Now his free hand found her clit and pressed it down hard. The loose skin of her cunt did the moving as the men moved inside of her. Negan brought his pace up to match Daryl's rhythm. "Now do it again."

"Ohhh fuck…" Paisley murmured.

Daryl released her wrists, his hands shifting back to her breasts where he caught her nipples and pinched them between his thumbs and forefinger. He showed no restraint, instead of the gentle side of her friend this was the feral, untamed side. He twisted at them and it was like a shot of straight electricity buzzing through her body and meeting the slow flame of Negan's firm touch to cause an explosion as she came again. Her eyes were unfocused and her body growing tired and limp from the hormones being released. But they weren't done - neither wanted to be the first to finish.

"You both feel so fucking good," she breathed. It wasn't a lie but she was struggling to keep up. She could hear in the noises Negan made that he was close, and Daryl grimaced almost painfully from trying to restrain himself.

"My stubborn boys," she laughed, slightly exasperated and yet so full of love for the two of them. "Daryl…" she purred, placing her hands on his chest. Negan released his grip on her hair and she looked down into Daryl's clear blue eyes. Her hair fell all around Daryl's face and suddenly it almost felt as if they were alone.

She leaned down and kissed him gently, just a brush of her mouth against his. Her breath caressed his lips longer than her lips did, but it worked and Daryl cried out in a choked, guttural sound that any animal on the planet would recognize.

He was still gasping and panting when Negan laughed.

"Ha-haaaaa uuuh," he bit his lip and looked down to watch his thighs clap against Paisley's round ass. "My girl's something else, isn't she Daryl? Don't get too comfortable though…" He began to struggle to speak clearly as his face drew tight around his words. He licked his lips and looked over Paisley's shoulder to meet Daryl's eyes. "She's MY girl, and you're her toy. She plays with you when I say it's OK, but she's all… fucking… MINE!" He said his lips parted and his eyes closed as he came.

"Whooo!" He chuckled. "You are SOMETHING, punk!" Paisley whimpered when he pulled out and stood up. He looked down at the lovers with a wide grin as he got dressed. Paisley rolled away from Daryl and spread out on the bed feeling like a limp rag with her tired, relaxed limbs and a smile.

Daryl stood to dress quickly; he wanted to get out of this situation before it got even more awkward.

"That's it? Wham, bam, and not even a thank you ma'am?" Negan quipped, amusing himself greatly.

"Fuck off," Daryl growled.

"Just did that," Negan replied. He was still grinning like the Cheshire cat as Daryl pushed past him toward the door. Negan smacked Daryl's ass with an open palm as he walked by. "Good game."

"Listen here, you best forget this happened. Got it? And if she ever tells me, (just once!) that you hurt her? I'll cut your throat before you can make a damn excuse," Daryl said, pointing a finger in Negan's face.

"But Daryl, how am I supposed to forget our night together? Don't treat me like some sex toy. I have FEELINGS!" Negan taunted as Daryl slammed the door behind him. Negan turned his smile on Paisley. "Well, that was fun!"

************************************

"You really are so fucking good at being bad!" Negan told her, wrinkling his nose down at her as she lay with her head in his lap on the couch. "But, why Dixon?" He shook his head.

"You have someone else in mind? And don't you dare say Michonne. She scares the fucking shit out of me!" Paisley warned. Negan replied playfully, "But you gotta admit, scary or not, Michonne is HOT. Maybe the four of us?"

"Dream on old man," Paisley said, sitting up to kiss him lightly.

"Where are you going?" He wondered aloud.

"I'm going to bed. Are you coming?" She smiled back over her shoulder at him.

"Not yet, but I'm sure you can do something about that. My dirty girl," he replied, standing, stretching, and following her to the bedroom.

[semimedieval]

the gang reacts to: jojo's bizarre adventure part 1 phantom blood but make it stupider

this is a joke lupus has no dio in him no dio at all. he is at most a jotaro but not even really that either. and obsidian is too skinny to be any jojo character at all. maybe he could cut it in part four or five but other than that. okay anyway-

we begin like this. which would be yaoi if it wasn't just straight up silly. <- a thing that could be said about jojos bizarre adventure phantom blood.

Obsidian trudged through the grass. Sometimes, Lupus could be a bossy flirty show-off. Lupus trudged down the path. Sometimes Obsidian could be an emotional, overreacting, oddball. (XD)

while the boys are busy fighting, jack accidentally spawns the entire concept of the fields of aphelie, which i really had confidently thought i invented out of wholecloth for the roleplay.

[Spark] reached out to touch a blooming flower, it's leaves so golden it seemed to glow. It snapped at her finger and out of surprise she set it on fire. The ashes fell to her hands. "Odd flora in these parts," Lupus remarked.

but lupus isn't allowed to talk about FLOWERS, he's got sins to atone for. we cut to him and ky.

Ky nodded "Strange." then, more quietly she whispered to Lupus. Could I talk to you? Alone? "No problem," he replied. When they were alone, he asked, with only a slight trace of bitterness, "Here to tell me off?" "No Lupus." she said evenly. "It's about when you threw that snowball at Obsidian. I know it was just a joke, but afterwards you got this terrible expresion in your eyes. It was frightening and it scared me. "fear still lingered in her gaze. "Are you okay?" "Uh... yeah...?" he asked. "I'm fine, Ky." But he wasn't so sure himself. He knew it'd be so easy to get people to do what he wanted. Obsidian and Tozi both had an obvious weakness, they'd do anything for the sake of Chuji. Quartz would come running for anything. Spark was fiercely loyal to all her friends, and, consequentially, would do anything to save them. Ky pushed the thought to the back of her mind. "Sorry, must have been a trick of the light." She extended her hand for him to hold. He took it. His mind was full of various scraps of thoughts (lol what?). It was so easy. With the right words and mix of emotions, he could get most of them to do anything they wanted to. He couldn't help searching for weaknesses, everywhere. But it was all just thoughts, he added. It wasn't like he wanted to manipulate and overthrow people. Why'd he want to do that?

This is fucking GOOFY. Lupus and Obsidian are having a bitch of a time with the intrusive thoughts lately. Also Lupus you are not as good at seeing ways to manipulate and exploit your friends' weaknesses as your insecurities are clearly telling you you are, given that the only people you come up with genuine weaknesses for are Obsidian and Tozi. Also Tozi is ALREADY DEAD, fuck would you do to him? I'm not impressed.

He is not a Machiavellian genius, he's a flawed human sixteen year old boy who is having "Am I evil?" thought experiments over his father. And also doesn't like Obsidian for reasons that are not explained outside of "conflicting personalities." I think it's out of character for the Lupus of 2.0 and the Leander of 3.0 to not be immediately kind of worried when Ky suspects him of Hidden Long-Buried Evil. But jury's out.

I'll be real: Obsidian having A Rivalry with both tozi and rim just makes him look like a complete buzzkill. And speaking of Tozi -

"Ugh." Chuji yelled sarcastically James, let me show you how to cook... She grabbed his arm and walked back to the fire. "You show him, Chuji!" Quartz yelled enthusiastically. Tozi laughed. "I remember when she did that to me, It was with a mushroom. She was a grander cook than I. 'We were lost in the woods,' Is what we said, making it a game." Obsidian smiled. "A mushroom? What did you do to it?" "It melted! "He burst out happily, he then looked at Chuji, blushing. "I nearly got my first kiss that day...." "I see," said Obsidian, neither coldly nor happily. He had been practicing his 'neutral look' lately. "The first time I tried to make toast, Quartz chased me out of the house with a big stick." "I gotta go, the wind's wanting me back. Bye," he then was swooped up and blown into a small still cloud "Bye," said Obsidian, wondering if Tozi's departure was only due to wind. He began to set the makeshift table.

"I see" is a pretty great response to this all things considered. Ghost Tozi reminds me of those deranged tiktoks that are like "POV: you're out with your boyfriend and his totally chill girl best friend shows up uninvited and starts dropping hints about just how in love your boyfriend was with her in high school" Like dude Obsidian is trying SO hard to get along with you please try to play ball a little. Meanwhile, Ky is having a found family moment and it's very sweet.

Ky smiled. She loved her family. Family. It had been a while since she'd had that. All that happiness was welling over, filling her heart with love. Ky turned to Lupus and lightly kissed him on the cheek.

And Lupus resolves his personal little moral crisis.

With Ky, Lupus never failed to cheer up. He felt that he knew for sure, today at least, that he'd be faithful to his friends.

He also says "Our schedule for tomorrow: rescue Rim from my demented unicorn-obsessed father," which is very funny in a 2012 sort of way. I do think it's SO funny that in this adventure the entire sequence of Poppyworth->Lupus and Ky breakup->Rim rescue->arriving at the beach->Chuji and Obsidian's date->the entire next day at the beach, including the pendants and Dracus and Tozi's revival takes place over THREE DAYS. THREE DAYS!!!

ALSO poor moopy has been rping with themself for like what feels like at least a week and i am not playing ball with them at ALL monoceros-wise. embarrassing for me.

THEN: the kyobsidian agenda.

Ky sat down on a patch of green grass and took of her shoes. She dipped her feet in the water. Obsidian appeared behind her. "Hi," Ky froze as she heard Obsidian's voice. Would he hate her too, as he did Lupus? "Do you mind if I sit here?" he asked. "Don't worry, I consider you a friend. And I know that Lupus means well, too" "Really?" she asked "I don't think you mean that, Obsidian. I don't blame you for not liking Lupus. You don't have to hide it from me." She skipped a rock across the water, creating ripples on it's surface. "I meant, he means well, but he has a funny way of showing it," he said bitterly. "To me, at least." The rock Obsidian threw bonked into the water unceremoniously. "Never been much good at it," he laughed. Ky gave a weak smile. "What does he say?" "Doesn't say anything," he assured her. "It's just...do you get the feeling he has no problem with flirting? That he likes showing off what he can do? That he expects people to feel sorry for him, the little tragic hero whose father is the Evil Overlord? That he bosses everyone around?" "I guess he does do that but, you have to focus on his overall qualities. Those things don't define him. "Plus, when he flirts it makes me laugh." She argued.

JESUS CHRIST OBSIDIAN YOU ARE BEING SUCH A DENSE ASSHOLE. First of all "no problem with flirting"? it sounds like YOU have a problem with flirting which maybe explains why you and chuji textually haven't kissed since she cried and passed out in your arms. skill issue.

secondly, "expects people to feel sorry for him".... dude. imagine if someone said that about YOU. from the way lupus talks about his father it feels like it should be pretty fucking clear that he is severely affected by the fact that monoceros sucks. i guess in aote1 it's not textual that monoceros is abusive but it is textual that monoceros hated people with element powers and that made lupus feel afraid. i'm sorry that fantasy homophobia metaphors are not an issue for you obsidian.

thirdly, why are you talking to lupus's girlfriend about this anyway. i know she asked you but jesus. This is still life ruiningly goofy in 2.0 but i have to say the dialogue is a lot better.

“It’s fine, I’m interested.” She leaned forward. “You don’t have to hide that you hate him - every time he talks, you make faces, and you guys have argued multiple times.”  “I know he means well,” Obsidian repeated; he looked embarrassed to have brought it up. “I just mean - he’s so commanding, so self-centered, and so insincere -”  “He’s sincere!” Ky snapped, more coldly than she seemed to have intended, because she immediately covered her mouth with her hand. “Sorry - I just, I suppose I get defensive -” “No, no,” Obsidian said quickly. “He’s your boyfriend, I shouldn’t have brought it up -”  “No,” an amused-sounding voice said behind them. “Maybe you shouldn’t have.” Abruptly, Obsidian scrambled backwards, muttering something apologetic; continuing his vague smile, Lupus lifted Ky’s hand gallantly and raised his eyebrows at Obsidian.  “I’m sure your persuasive skills would have been very effective on anyone other than my girlfriend,” he said smoothly, and Ky gave a weak chuckle while looking strangely back at Obsidian.

the good news though is that we're skipping til morning and surely this inane rivalry thing will wind down instead of escalating and having social consequences for people that last three whole hours <3 onward!

also, love the blink-and-you-miss-it "obsidian is bi and had feelings for tozi" insinuation in the 2.0 excerpt that i only noticed because i very vaguely remember putting it there. love wins, i guess

[faorism]

absolutely wyll romancing astarion. spoilers below!

as i learned when i noticed someone had options i didn't get during the camp celebration night, there is precise pathing in wylls romance to avoid a bug(?) WHICH HAS YOU NOT HAVE HIM IN YOUR PARTY WTF that had me restart at the door of the underdark

i also definitely missed some subtle dialogue cues for wyll, while it's always very obvious what will seduce astarion let astarion seduce you.

it also doesn't say in the link above, but another person said asking wyll about his eye also breaks the romance. might have been an earlier patch, but i decided not to test it

you miss out on astarions lovely snippy comments and i miss his voice so much

maybe i am just so desperate for wyll interactions, but i feels other companions' reactions are prioritized above wylls? i hear SO much more from karlach, but astarions comments were definitely frequent or at least very memorable

im going to write a post about this, but unlike other companions who have persistent dialogue options, astarion does not until later on the game, and as of post-grove without romance path, wyll doesn't either. what astarion does have is the permission to feed on you. it was a delightful chore to always tell him he can. there was something somewhat transactional about it. and like people in other reblogs shared, it implies that wyll is kinda just relieving some tension even tho he knows (with a passed insight check) there's something fake about astarions approach. i really like this dynamic for how messy it is

astarion calling you darling and dear all the time 😭

wearing the bloodless condition with pride was so hot to me.......

astarion starts off strong in act i, cools off in act ii, and then boy when you complete his quest in act iii it's just so lovely.

people have spoken about wyll being underwritten. not sure for the wyll romance, but comparing astarion romance to wyll as a mainstay companion (during a tav/shadowheart run), it's definitely doesn't have the same punch as astarions emotionally imo. like,, the emotional resolution between cazador and dad/aldur ain't the same. (i personally wished ravenguard was less a set piece for all we had to go thru to find him since act i. because bruh the daddy issues there are SO real. i desperately wish that wyll reacted to the contents of his father's vault 😭)

astarion would absolutely hate being pushed into leadership (def npc in his own life energy, so he can observe others and react rather than being the one to be decisive) while wyll is the origin who steps up to the challenge

imo there is no way to play origin astarion as companion accurate while trying to impress wyll. you are forced into the noble/heroic actions or else wyll absolutely will disapprove.

meanwhile, there was only one thing i absolutely had to do where wyll that felt ooc, which was allow astarion to kill the gur hunter. (in my playthrough, i long rested immediately after the fight and astarion started the romance then. which. was so fucking depressing and wonderfully tragic in retrospect.)

in my abandoned playthrough, i was also flirting with gale and karlach with astarion. it was honestly bizarre to see how sincere, tender, and kind astarion is as origin. wyll, on the other hand, is absolutely that sincere, tender, and kind

THAT SAID i like the rp of occasionally dropping the weight of The Blade Of Frontiers and allowing himself to (as @lesbianralzarek brilliantly described) be a cunt sometimes. this ultimately is one of the biggest draws for me. i adore literal prince wyll and i cannot wait to carry on thru the romance to see him at his peak dreamy. however, im still struck with the line from companion wyll for why he hid his connection to mizora. something like, his is a tale of two men. he wanted you to know the blade, and not the shadow from the past. and like. UHDNDNDKS i really loved rp'ing from his guy who might not usually do something like this and not usually with a guy like astarion, and he doesn't see himself as a full person deserving of letting loose and living outside the grand persona. growing just a tad bit morally gray (or just a touch impolite tbh) on the small things felt like a natural way to allow the shadow to be lit

the other major reason is more ymmv: i am deeply interested in the exploration of trauma, and knowing what i know about astarions backstory, i am missing that as part of the relationship from what ive seen so far with astarion origin. like, the man says "dont touch me" hundreds of times thru a playthrough when you switch to him; having that be reflected in the rp (in terms of him not wanting to have sex after act ii for awhile) moved me. again, idk enough about wylls romance (other than the dance scene on my tav which RIP at me having to break the poor man's heart over rejecting him) so maybe my opinion will shift!

and the most important reason: romancing astarion means playing with wyll, and he is so good and sweet and i just wanna look at that man for hours on end and you should too haha

Wyllstarion people, is it best to romance Wyll with Astarion or romance Astarion with Wyll? Who has the most extra content?

[harcove]

Hii could u write for billy x reader where reader is part of the hellfire club? Like she's a metalhead and plays dnd and stuff, i rlly can't see how billy would end up with someone like that

A/N: sorry this took a bit, I've been going btwn writing multiple things and ya aaaa I hope this is okay love! Honestly, I personally think Billy could find himself being with most anyone- it all depends!

Pairing: Billy x Hellfire!reader

Length: 2.3k

Warnings: nah, but I'll keep saying OOC Billy so no one tells me my characterization of him is wrong 🤡

(Not So) Polar Opposites

Billy hated having to be back at the school after hours; the sun had set and there were only a few cars in the lot besides his Camaro. If it weren't for you, he wouldn't have been there.

Billy always picked you up Thursday nights from the school. It was Hellfire Club night, DnD night, the night where you wouldn't drive home with him from school because you were staying back to help prepare for the DnD campaign you were part of.

Hellfire Club wasn't something Billy gave a shit about. It was your thing, a thing that you'd been in before he even arrived in Hawkins. And sadly, it was something that dictated your social standing as being something of a 'freak.'

It didn't stop Billy Hargrove from setting his sights on you however.

Billy was at the top of the social hierarchy that engulfed Hawkins High. What he did, what he said, people ate it up. People like Carol and Tommy. Did they have things to say about you and the Hellfire Club when he showed an interest in you? Yeah. Did he give a fuck? No. And he was sure to let them know that their opinions in his life didn't matter. And to keep your name out of their mouths.

And by proxy, the Hellfire Clubs name. At least when he was around to hear it.

Sure, he didn't get it. He didn't get the whole deal with Dungeons and Dragons. Didn't get what the point of the game was and definitely didn't fucking get what the hell you wrote on those sheets of paper you'd sometimes work on at his house. 'Character sheets,' is what you'd say whenever he asked what the fuck they were.

It went right over his head.

But you enjoyed it. You had fun going to those DnD nights in the school, and enjoyed spending time with the members of Hellfire Club. You especially enjoyed it because your best friend, Eddie Munson, was the head of the club.

Billy knew Eddie Munson.

Not that he spoke to him in school; Billy rarely ever stayed at the school during lunch periods to see you at the table with the other Hellfire members, and he never had reason to just speak to them or him. Most of his time spent with you was outside of or after school.  Save for the fact Eddie was the drug dealer he dealt with. If he wanted weed, it was Eddie Munson he'd get it from.

So, they were on an even groundwork there.

No matter how bizarre it seemed to anyone else that Billy Hargrove was dating you, it didn't matter to him. He wasn't scared of losing his status as the top dog. The guy who scared others, who was the Keg King. He had worse things in his life to worry about. And perhaps, the fact that he didn't care so much is what kept him right where he was.

He liked it.

Where the two of you differed vastly in your free time activity (him enjoying going to a party, you enjoying the fantastical game of DnD) you also had similarities that bound you together as tight as your opposite interests.

You enjoyed metal music; Billy also enjoyed metal music. It was nice to find that he didn't need to change the radio station because you hated the loud music he wanted to play, because you wanted to hear it too. And aside from partying, Billy actually did enjoy simpler things, particularly sitting in his room on his bed reading something. It wasn't something people expected, but when had Billy ever been predictable? You happened to like a good book as well.

So as bizarre as the two of you may have seemed on the outside, you actually clicked quite well together- like two pieces of a puzzle.

But you were taking a real long time finishing up your session, and it grinded on Billy's gears. He just hated being in that school more than he actually had to, even if it was for you. He wasn't mad at you. Maybe mad at the school for even existing in front of him. And for DnD for cutting into time he could be pulling you close.

Fingers tapping on the wheel of his car, Billy let's out an annoyed sigh. Scorpians playing from his cars radio, he moves his body slightly, making the leather of the seat squeak. It's twenty minutes past when you usually finish your session and come outside.

Usually you're quick to come out and greet him. There have been times where you've run a little over time, but those times Billy wasn't as in much of a mood as he was then. And usually it didn't take you more than 10 minutes.

He'd just have to go in there and get you himself. That's what he concluded. He knew you sometimes lost sense of time especially when you were having a good time. It was like wrangling his sister sometimes; but he was pretty sure Max sometimes liked to conveniently "forget the time" because it would annoy him. You never did that.

At least, he was pretty sure you didn't.

With another heavy sigh, albeit this one sounded more annoyed than the last, Billy pulls the key out of the ignition shutting the his car off, stepping out with one feet heavy on the gravel taking a few moments before pulling the rest of his body out; like he's being forced against his will to do this.

No one could force him to do this. But that didn't mean he wasn't allowed to still feel a bit ticked off.

He knows the room you have your sessions in. It's a drama classroom, with a small stage (compared to an actual stage) in a bigger than average classroom. It didn't have a bunch of chairs and desks because, well, it was a drama room. Most of the activities in their didn't require students to sit for an hour.

So it isn't hard for him to reach it in a matter of minutes. The door is slightly ajar and he can hear the lot of you inside, laughing and shouting.

"I can't believe you rolled that at the end," he recognized your voice, it sounded like you were on the edge of a laugh, one of happiness and disbelief, "like, seriously."

"What can I say, but you're welcome for saving the day."

Billy doesn't recognize the voice fully, he doesn't even really care to figure it out; he never spoke to any of the Hellfire members aside from you and and Eddie Munson (barely).

Instead, Billy chooses to wait a few moments as you laugh, continuing your banter. He's not going to knock on the slighy ajar door, that's stupid. So after a few more moments, he's pushing against the door to open it fully. It creaks when he does, announcing him before his own presence is noticed.

"Billy!" You notice him first, before anyone else really does. You always notice him, "what are you doing here?"

In your hands is one of his jean jackets, one you borrowed that morning; the fall weather had been more bitter than you realized that morning. He took it off and gave it to you with the most dramatic eyeroll he could muster. You rush towards him. Being close is all you want.

Billy looks at you, then looks at the watch on his wrist, as if he was really reading it; it was more for the dramatics.

"Just thought I'd see if the school was doing good tonight, y'know?" He's being sarcastic clearly, "I just... Love it here."

You turn your head to look at the clock in the room, noting the time; twenty minutes past when you were supposed to meet him outside.

Awkwardly, you wince and shoot him an apologetic look, smiling at him. You can see it in his eyes; he's not actually too angry with you.

He finds it hard to look at you, happy, enjoying yourself and smiling how you do, and be angry. Annoyed maybe for the wait, but that too slowly dissipates when he looks at you.

Not completely, but just enough.

You act as some sort of balm for his emotions, the bad ones, and an irritant (meant in the best way possible of coutse) for the good ones, amplifying them by just being near.

"I'm sorry," you offer up, genuinely sorry. You don't like keeping Billy waiting, not because you're scared of him or you're doing things on his time- but because you know his father. And you know the times he comes home can set his father off.

And he did this without you asking.

"Mmm... Next time you can walk."

He says it but he doesn't mean it, he wouldn't let you walk home alone late. His voice gives him away too. But maybe it's only obvious to you.

Rather than giving him a response you only smile at him, closing the distance fully between the two of you and wrapping your arms around his torso.

"Ah, Hargrove," Eddie Munson makes his presence known; he always seemed to be bright in a room- he knew how to get people to look hid way.

So did Billy.

"To what do we owe the pleasure?" Eddie bows dramatically. His face plastered with a smirk as he looks between you and Billy who now has a single arm across your shoulders as you keep your arms wrapped around him.

"Munson," his fingers are pressing into your shoulder and his cologne (which you had been privy to all day anyways because of the jean jacket) just smells so much nicer on the man himself than just on his jean jacket, "the pleasure is hers actually."

There's a deeper meaning to that, you know it. A sexual one, most likely. Especially based on the way Eddie cocks an eyebrow when he stands up fully, his smirk widening only slightly

"If he gives you trouble, let me know Lady Ironbark," Eddie uses your Dungeons and Dragons characters last name as he moves around the table to pick up some things, "not sure what I can do against the beast bit, it's the thought that counts."

Billy doesn't take him seriously and you're glad for that. Because if he decided to, you weren't sure you'd like the outcome.

Initially things had been more tense between the two. One being your best friend and the other being Hawkins High schools king after taking it from Steve. Billy was in the perfect spot to beat Eddie down, bully him and the other members like yourself of Hellfire. But he didn't.

Surprisingly, Billy didn't go around bullying people just to have fun. Or just because he could. In reality, Billy avoided interaction people, needless interaction he cared little about the people in Hawkins. But if they just so chose to cross his path or do something to set him off? Well, that would do it. It wasn't like he actively went out of his way to say words to random kids in the hallway.

"...Lady Ironbark?"

Billy says it flat. And really it sounds kind of funny coming out of his lips.But he does recognize the name; how could he not, when he's sat there before and just let you run off about your character for the current campaign.

"My character for this campaign," you respond- thinking he has forgotten about it, but he really hasn't.

It seems like a lot of times the information you give him sometimes just goes in one ear and out the other. It's just how Billy seems. Like he's not listening, but in reality, he retains all of the things you tell him inside his head. And it will be at moments where you least expect it that he will say the things you think hes forgotten.

"I know," he says, unhooking his arm from around you and pulling away to take a cigarette from his jacket pocket, placing it between his lips, "and you can tell me all about them again, in the car, on the way home."

Billy is itching to leave the school; again, the less time he needed to spend there the better.

"Okay," you smile, a genuine and big smile, turning to look at Eddie and the few straggler members from Hellfire finishing packing things up, "I'll see you guys at lunch tomorrow!"

A chorus of see you tomorrow and good nights come from the boys, and you turn to follow Billy out of the room.

"Put that on," he's already lighting the cigarette in his mouth before the two of you have even exited the school; his chin juts towards his jean jacket in your arms, "It's bitter as fuck out. And you're not getting two of my fuckin' jackets in one day babe, no matter how good you look in them."

Giggling, you pull the jacket on, Billy taking your bag lazily and throwing it over his back in one hand, not caring about being gentle with it. He keeps walking.

"I'm sorry again by the way," he pushes the door open with his hip to exit the school, you hot on his tail, "about being late. I'll make it up to you by letting you play your favourite music in the car on the way to my place."

It's funny because, one, you think you're going to dictate what he plays in his car (sometimes you do but its his car) and two, because you literally like the same kind of music. So it's not really making anything up.

"Whatever."

You know he's got a small tilt to his lips. And you know he's not mad. You know he's going to keep picking you up even if its annoying sometimes. And you know he loves you and you love him.

Even if you're (not so) polar opposites.

[monstersinthecosmos]

Give me your favorite soft Daniel headcanon

i had to google what is soft headcanon, idk what is that I dont have those. 🤔 I'll try?

doing hard drugs and crying into a soft towel wait no

Sometimes he still has like creative frenzies where he wants to stay inside and make stuff to tune the world out and process some emotions but he's taken more of a Marie Kondo approach and tries to make stuff that he can donate afterwards. Like building doll houses or something that kids can use after, or something that can be then disassembled when he's done, like Lego sets. It gives him that space to tune out for a few days but he's mindful enough to pick crafts that don't need to take up permanent space in his home. But it's a real act of growth and self care to prepare for these moments and expect them and allow himself to go through it without letting it fuck up his life.

I like to think he got back into interviewing and secretly has a podcast. I listen to This is Actually Happening and I think this is like THE podcast that Daniel would have!!!!!!!! It's all first hand accounts of traumatic and/or bizarre shit but the interviewer edits himself out so it just plays as a single uninterrupted narration. That's Daniel! This is the format he would use to keep interviewing people!!!!

Huge Trekkie. K/S SHIPPER. Reads fanfic and actually leaves comments bc he is a nice dude who wants fic writers to feel encouraged and appreciated =P

And a couple ship related ones too just for good measure:

Although everyone jokes about creating nightmare concoctions in the kitchen, that's sort of a caricature and he's not so useless. When (human) Daniel doesn't feel well, or in moments of aftercare, Armand knows exactly how to make Daniel's favorite things perfectly! (This sounds like it's more about Armand but Daniel gets to be the one to admire all of this and feel cared for.)

He and Armand play mind gifting games (Daniel is practicing and Armand is teaching him tricks) where they sit out on the balcony and try to influence pedestrians to do random shit and it makes them laugh and they play footsie while this is going on. (I feel like they parallel play Animal Crossing or some shit too so this is a good time for them to each chill out playing AC in between pedestrians and they can like show each other their islands and visit each other and everything.)

Sometimes, even when he's feeling better and is mostly recovered, Daniel exaggerates his ~condition~ to Marius for cuddles. Sometimes it's bc he wants a lazy cuddle day and sometimes bc he can tell Marius isn't having a good day and he does it so that Marius feels like he can be purposeful and take care of somebody.

He's the MEME GUY of the coven and sends a lot of stupid ancient history memes to Marius like "it you". He's also that guy who airdrops memes to strangers in a crowd.

(Also, I don't think Daniel going back to New York makes Marius & Armand's relationship worse. I think Daniel is the fresh set of eyes they need as a mediator who will help them communicate with each other and work out their shit.)

[discoscoob]

I wasn’t aware that Eddie and Chirssy valuing their best friendship staus above their their romantic status was such a shocking new idea. I always had the idea in my head.

Yes, we are aware that Eddie has a giant crush on Chrissy. But I generally think he would enjoy hanging out with her.

I get this vibe that Eddie would enjoy her honesty and curiosity for the things he likes. I think, sometimes, Corroded Coffin and the Hellfire club could get bored with Eddie’s antics (not Mike or Dustin.) So it is fun to hang out with someone who is so enthralled by everything you've loved for years. I know that Eddie gushes his heart about LOTR to Chrissy and Chrissy just sit there with sparkles in her eyes. Which makes Eddie's heart swell up. I also get the vibe that he would feel safe with Chrissy to talk about his parents (I headcanon that his old man is in jail for murder because of what Eddie said in ep.8 and his mom is dead) because Chirssy has a rough home life too. He would also share embarrassing stories about himself with her that he will never tell anyone because he got a reputation to upheld.

With Chrissy, I would think she enjoyed that Eddie actually listened to her and let her be quirky without any judgment. He would let her complain about Jason and Laura. He would entertained every bizarre idea that pops into her mind.

Futhermore, I always thought in the secret dating AU when they fucked behind Jason's back, it's always Chrissy who 'fuck up their friendship' because she starts to have intense feelings and thoughts about Eddie, even though the one who is unconsciously friend zoning him. I always imagined her in a scenario with her having a wet dream about him and waking up to think that like, 'best friends don't have dreams like that about each other.'

This is why I always love the friends to lovers trope for them. I imagine a slow burn where they’re friends (best friends) for aaaaages before they eventually date each other. Idiots in love for sure.

I know people love the AU where Chrissy and Eddie fuck behind Jason’s back, I like it too, cheating isn’t wrong if you’re cheating on an arsehole.

However I either think she would’ve broke up with Jason after the basketball game, like I said in my theory the other day on how Jason was acting really suspicious the morning after or she would stay with Jason while her and Eddie grow close as friends and Eddie is in love with her (and she’s in love with Eddie too) but the both of them think the other only likes them as a friend so they’re both too afraid to admit their feelings.

Chrissy and Jason would break up eventually though and Chrissy and Eddie always end up together in the end.

My headcanon about Eddie’s parents is that his mum died in a car accident when his dad was driving under the influence and that’s what he’s in prison for.

I think that Chrissy would also end up reading lotr too, maybe she would have trouble sleeping one night and instead of waking Eddie she would decide to pick up one of Eddie’s books (it happens to be lotr) Eddie would wake up in the morning to find her completely engrossed. She’d be like “why didn’t you tell me this was good?” and he’d tell her “I talk to you about it all the time” and she’d reply “yeah but you never actually told me to read it!”